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neosapienooc2019-12-30 12:51 am
neosapienmods) wrote in neosapienooc2019-12-30 12:51 am
TEST DRIVE MEME #1
JANUARY TEST DRIVE
1: SPRAWLING WASTELAND, GLOWING IN THE DARK
No sunlight reaches the Underground, but there is rain: grey, oily droplets that slowly trickle down from the city above, seeping through layers of concrete until they drip from broken light fixtures onto the aptly named black markets below. The glow of neon signs keeps the shadows at bay, just barely. What was once a system of utility tunnels and basement bunkers is now a warren of tiny shops offering reprogrammed ID chips and back-alley cybernetic upgrades, where hitmen and slave traders operate with lawless impunity. But someone is always watching... the eyes of Yakashbah, graffitied in bioluminescent paint, stare unblinking from the walls.2: A MIND OF DARKNESS, A HEART OF LIGHT
People come to this place for only two reasons: they're either looking for something, or they're trying not to be found. Whatever your reason, the Underground welcomes you.
Outside of manicured parks and glass-enclosed vertical farms, green space is rare in New Gate City, so the elites flaunt their wealth in private rooftop gardens. Fragrant, exotic flowers bloom amidst strings of lanterns, and real grass - an extravagant luxury - carpets the ground beneath partygoers' feet as they sip champagne and admire the dark cityscape below. Tonight, one of the Douman Zaibatsu's myriad charity organizations hosts its annual fundraising gala... but this year, the special guests attract even more attention than the celebrities and fashionistas in attendance. Representatives from the Neo Sapien Organization have been invited to speak on the topic of Human/Meta-human relations, and to raise money on behalf of job placement programs for impoverished Metas in the Last Ward. Of course, most within the Douman Zaibatsu would prefer that these "job placement programs" send Metas to the farms far outside New Gate City (or better yet, to the lunar strip mines), but at least for tonight, members of both factions hide behind false smiles and false words.3: AS FEAR'S REPLICATING, YOUR WORDS RESONATING
Someone gasps, and everyone looks up. Arcadia's central shopping district goes silent, save for the distant sound of pop tunes played over tinny speakers, as a massive black banner unfurls down the side of a building. A crudely drawn eye fills the banner, bisected by a line of white paint... the unofficial symbol of the Meta rights movement. People start to whisper, and somewhere, there's a cheer. Police drones buzz through the air above.4: A NEW HOPE GLISTENS OFF THE STREETS
Meta rights protests aren't uncommon in this part of New Gate City, even though they're soon dispersed by local security forces. This banner, too, will be quickly taken down and destroyed, but the photos and videos of the event will be harder to suppress. Already, the bystanders are murmuring to each other, some in support and some in fear. Others keep their heads down, wary of expressing their true feelings about the rising numbers of Meta-humans. And as security forces move to block off the area, others are frantically trying to disappear.
The blocks surrounding the Neo Sapien Organization's headquarters in the Middle Ward are like an oasis at the center of an otherwise inhospitable city. Old buildings have been renovated into bright and cheerful apartments that accommodate a variety of Meta-human physiologies, Meta schools and Meta-owned businesses are flourishing, and Meta-friendly shops and cafes line the streets.5: WITHIN THE CHAOS, I KNOW I'M NOT ALONE
The best coffee in the Middle Ward can be found at The Mean Bean, just across from the NSO building, where the shop's fire-breathing Meta owner personally roasts every batch. NSO employees and and other patrons of the popular cafe congregate to discuss local news and gossip: a proposed Meta registration and identification law, rumors of vigilante gangs near the border with the Last Ward, and rivalries between NSO university sports teams. Arguments occasionally grow heated (especially when it comes to sports), but overall the atmosphere is friendly and congenial.
The Last Ward's electrical grid is reliably unreliable, but blackouts on this scale are rare. Half the ward has been dark for the past three days, save for a few emergency generators and dwindling battery backups. As winter winds batter old, drafty concrete apartment blocks, the residents grow restless and frustrated. Police have already put down several riots, but there's no stopping the spike in looting and other petty crimes.
In the Parish, many people have opted to barricade themselves inside their homes until the blackout ends, but others are taking advantage of the chaos. Most, though, have chosen to band together to protect each other throughout the long nights. The people of the Parish may not have much, but at least they have a sense of community.
2A
What are you afraid of, Huaisang? That red demon? You're stronger than he is, or you could be. He can almost hear the strict, disapproving voice of his dead brother echoing in his thoughts, as if all the scoldings he'd given during life weren't enough. You come from a long line of devils.
Belatedly, he realizes that the red demon is watching him with what appears to be mild amusement, the way a tiger regards a mouse. Not even worth eating.]
Eh? Ah... were you talking to me?
[Huaisang hasn't touched his meal - hasn't trusted himself to. The silverware is only silver-plated steel after all, and it trembles in response to his fear. With his meta-human ability to create magnetic fields, he could turn every knife at the dinner table against the beast... but that would mean exposing his family's secret. His untouched knife shifts slowly towards the other man, until Huaisang places his champagne glass on the table to stop its advance. Someone must have bumped the table, that's all.]
That is... um... you're absolutely right, of course! That's why the foundation is allocating funding for Meta-Human housing and community programs, so they'll have somewhere safe to live... [Safe, and preferably far away. He can be polite, too.] Together we can, um, ensure a peaceful and prosperous future for everyone, right?
[No, brother, I'm not afraid of that demon... I'm afraid of myself.]
no subject
He doesn't, though. However much he would like to, his unfortunate dinner partner seems far too tense to be corrected with a simple nudge. As he hears the rattle of silverware against the table's top, Magnus sets down his glass as well.
Gently. ]
That, I believe, is the goal. [ His tone is kept lightly bantering, with no mockery to be (easily) found in it. ] But I'm sure all of us have already had enough of that conversation tonight, haven't we? Let us use this meal as a moment to put such weighty topics aside, and focus our minds somewhere more pleasant.
[ No, talking about it is the whole point in his being here, but maybe this man will be more comfortable on ground that is less charged. As with his voice, his expression is deliberately amicable as he watches for a response — and any tremble disturbing the carefully arranged tableware. ]
no subject
[You're the one who brought up such a weighty topic in the first place! Or at least that's what Huaisang would say, if he had the courage to. Instead, he looks up and gives a strained smile. Even here in Central, open hostility is considered to be a bit of a social faux pas, and he'd hate for anyone to to think him unsophisticated. He reaches into his sleeve to pull out a delicately painted folding fan, then snaps it open to cover his embarrassment.]
I-I'm Nie Huaisang, by the way, from the Qinghe Foods corporation. That is to say, um, I'm the owner... we produce bioengineered meat products, but I'm a vegetarian so I don't really know what I'm doing...
[He hides behind self-deprecation the same way he hides behind his paper fan. It's not much of a shield against the world, but with no conscious control over his meta-human abilities, it's the best defense he has. In the nearly ten years since he inherited leadership of his company, he's steadily risen through the middling ranks of the Douman Zaibatsu's countless subsidiaries... Huaisang knows the value of being underestimated.]
no subject
If that were true, I have my doubts that you would be in charge. [ He might not know much about Qinghe Foods in the particular, but he doesn't need to in order to say as much. New Gate City's world of business is an unforgiving place, and if this man truly had no understanding of his job, he would have already been forced from it — by competition within and without. ]
I am Dr. Magnus Sohrab. [ Sometimes, introducing himself feels pointless, his appearance distinctive enough that he is recognized in places only by word of mouth. Still, it's only polite to answer an introduction with one in reply, and he wouldn't dream of assuming a businessman has the same concerns as himself. ] A simple educator working in cooperation with the NSO.
[ Besides, Magnus is no stranger to false modesty himself. ]
no subject
[Before he was murdered, most likely by someone within the organization. Of course, Huaisang has no proof of that beyond his own convictions. If this Magnus Sohrab is a friend of the NSO, that's even more reason to be wary of him.]
So you see, it's a family business. I wanted to be a painter, not a CEO... My only qualifications are being born into the right clan and having a pulse. [He smiles wanly. That second qualification has been remarkably difficult for members of his family to maintain.]
no subject
Perhaps you have, or perhaps you haven't. I can't say whether my work is anything that would attract your interest.
[ There's a pause, then. Magnus leans back in his seat and inclines his head, studying Hauisang openly now. Probably, he had met the referenced brother at least once, but the truth is that, despite technically falling into that category himself, he had less association with its other donors than he did it's employees.
However, that isn't the reason for the curious gaze of his single eye. ]
If your responsibilities leave you with no spare time to explore a hobby, that's a shame. I'm no artist myself, but I think the world is a poorer place for every painter and poet unable to pursue their talents.
no subject
[Huaisang is used to polite disinterest (at best) when he mentions his hobby, so that isn't the reaction he expected. It's enough to... well, not put him at ease exactly, but at least shift his anxiety from one direction to another. He speaks quickly, almost stumbling over his words.]
A-artist or not, I don't meet many people with a genuine interest in things like that. Well, I know plenty of art collectors of course, but most of them are just using art as a vehicle for money laundering, or for a philanthropic tax break, or because they like seeing their name on the side of a museum...
[He trails off, abruptly self-conscious. Surely Dr. Sohrab was only being polite, but even that is an unexpected kindness.]
no subject
[ The words are a scoff, but of course, this time, his disdain isn't directed at Huaisang. ]
I do collect, but if I enjoyed none of it, all it would be is so much clutter. [ But his hasty admission that so many people have less-than-refined reasons behind their interest is amusing, and Magnus smiles again. ] Perhaps I should call myself an art appreciator, instead? I wouldn't want to be taken for someone disingenuous about his interests.
no subject
I-I certainly didn't mean to imply that you were disingenuous...
[In truth, though, Huaisang didn't expect the meta-human to have an interest in art. His appearance doesn't exactly suggest delicacy, after all... but perhaps Huaisang was too quick to judge. He looks up and speaks earnestly.]
...So what sort of art do you collect - or, should I say, appreciate?
no subject
[ There's a flash of a wider smile, uninhibited enough to show his teeth. For just a moment, he considers asking if Hauisang has ever heard the name Amon Sohrab — but it's been many years since his father has had dealings with the elite of Central Ward, and this man looks younger than he is. Magnus continues past the thought without so much as a pause. ]
But in recent years, I've found myself drawn to more contemporary styles as well. I suppose that's only natural — it would be hard to find a man more contemporary than I. [ He can't wink, having only one eye, so he laughs at his own joke to show that it's just a harmless riff on his meta-human identity!! ] In the end, the right balance between minimalism and intricacy is what attracts me to a piece, and that can be found in many places.
no subject
[When he finally overcomes his stutter, words seem to spill out of Huaisang like water overflowing a dam. He gestures enthusiastically, punctuating his thoughts with flicks of his folding fan. But self-consciousness quickly reasserts itself, and he lets out a weak laugh of embarrassment.]
Ahaha...sorry, I'm just rambling. I think it's admirable that you're carrying on your father's legacy, though.
[Contemporary. Implying that Magnus Sohrab and meta-humans like him are the future of humanity... Huaisang wonders if Magnus's father saw things the same way. Many meta-humans with physical manifestations are rejected by their families, after all... the apparent affection that Magnus has for his father is striking.]
no subject
I hadn't considered it as a matter of legacy, but hearing you say so, I feel as though I ought to. [ His voice lowers just a little, then, as if his next words are something private. ] You wouldn't assume so, but this is the ward where I spent the earliest part of my life. Even after we had left for a more modest home, that art collection is something he refused to let go of.
[ It's an admission carefully measured, saying just as much in implication as it does on its surface. Then, before Huaisang can even open his mouth to respond to it, Magnus moves past it, voice back to its normal assertive cadence as he says: ]
But, please. This isn't something you often have the opportunity to discuss, is it? [ As with so many things in Huaisang's demeanor, that isn't something Magnus needs to be a mind-reader to know. That had been the clear, bubbling enthusiasm of a man finally able to give voice to something he has repeated in his own mind dozens of times, simply for lack of any other person to voice it to. ] Ramble as much as you like, as I have happily done the same.
no subject
A-actually, there's going to be an exhibition in Central next month of artworks recovered from places that were flooded when the sea levels rose... I thought you might be interested, so, um... Don't worry about the meta-human travel restrictions! I can work something out!