neosapienooc | 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.

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.

2: A MIND OF DARKNESS, A HEART OF LIGHT

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.

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.

4: A NEW HOPE GLISTENS OFF THE STREETS

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.

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.

5: WITHIN THE CHAOS, I KNOW I'M NOT ALONE

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ numbers won't be an advantage for those officers for too long. the thing about them all crowding around one body like that is that it puts them in close proximity to each other. who knows what could happen when one misses a swing or a kick meant for Jet and instead takes it out on their partner.

something stalls the forward movement of one of those boots. maybe it was a rock. a crack in the pavement. something on the floor. it's impossible to see in this darkness, but it's there, and it's solid, and there was enough power behind the kick that the resulting momentum topples them over -- to crash face-first with their counterpart directly across Jet's prone body. that's a pair of bloody noses. they stumble back flat onto their asses. ]

"What the fu--?" [ protests a third, before he is silenced by one of the others "accidentally" rearing back their arm and "accidentally" discharging their stun baton right into their shoulder. that seems to be a shock for both of them - but obviously more literally for the unfortunate sap who falls away, a shuddering mess until unconsciousness claims him too.

that just leaves the poor sap who just zapped his buddy and the fifth cop, gawking, panicking, reaching for his sidearm. it won't budge from his holster, though, and when he hunches over with both hands on it to try and yank it free it puts his head at the perfect level to eat the boot of Mr. Stun Gun as he slips on who-knows-what and just about cracks his skull open against the alleyway wall.

it all happens so fast. like someone toppling a short row of dominoes or a stack of cards. they're not all K.O.'d but they'd certainly not be moving anywhere for a bit.

hopefully Jet can, though. because the only way the shadows call out to bid him deeper inside is with a flash of a digital display set behind a darkened visor. two bright white words that briefly illuminate the silhouette of a familiar yellow helmet. ]

GET UP

[He's lucky. It gets to be apparent that one of these "police" aren't as on the force as they might otherwise believe. He's down and he's not as alone as he might have thought, but that's no excuse to lie around and wait for things to worsen.]

[He's already rolling to his feet. Something in his middle feels like it might have given in. His breathing is uneven, verging closer to a wheeze.]

Thanks. [The word is nearly inaudible.] How'd y'know I had guests?

[ the shadow - and that's the only way to describe a tall figure that wears matte black leather neck-to-fingertip-to-toe - steps into what dim illumination there is and offers its hands forward. there are tendrils of something. metal bands? rope? that evaporate into the darkness from their fingertips, flowing along the concrete to the limbs of the enforcers. the secret to manipulating their movements, to tripping them all up and making them fall all over themselves.

Celty doesn't like injuring people if it can be avoided. but technically, she didn't assault these officers. it was just a big string of accidents. no one would be able to prove otherwise unless they knew what to look for and had very detailed surveillance equipment. not likely in this pitch blackness.

the display flickers to life again. the lettering no longer yelling in all caps. ]

I overheard the stampede.

[ Celty tilts her head. concerned. it's difficult to convey with body language but there's an urgency to all their movements too. she shifts her body to the side, gestures with one hand down the alley. ]

This way.

[Running shoulder-to-shoulder with metas comes with the territory down here, and it's not without its benefits. He gets a hand for support. He takes it, but stands under his own power.]

[Hands twitch at his sides. The instinct to go through their shit, grab what he can - it's the scavenger's reflex that's kept him alive for longer than he should've been. There isn't time for that. He has to turn his back. Whether these nightmares are well and truly out of it or dead doesn't matter. They're not his problem right now.]

[He can breathe, so that means he can walk. He can run, fight, shoot - do whatever he needs to do to get the hell outta here.]

Let's move.

TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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