[center [i The apocalypse was an inevitable event which befell humanity. Corruption and dissension led to it.. However; the only thing greater than humanity's evident thirst for blood is their resilience to survive even the darkest of things or threat.. Five centuries into the future and technological advances have been made to made the Earth some what hospital. ] ]
[center [i Despite the unimaginable beasts and unspeakable horrors which were brought about by the mutation of radiation and nuclear fall-out; cities manage to flourish and sprout up. And.. as time went on the need for order was came along with process but it wasn't anything which we'd thought it would be.] ]
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[center [i Oppression is something which flows in humanity. They relish the pain of others. Due to Earth's population only being that of two million, and our technological advances, only one government reigns over the Earth. Floating above us all, in that damn space shuttle of theirs, is our 'loving leader.' Below us, her army of cybernetic enhance humans do her duty deeds.] ]
[center [i Peace through force is destine to fall away.. With the nuclear war a far and distance memory.. unrest grows. The rumor of slaves being sold by the upper class and executions for those who speak ill against our leader only heighten distrust in the very one whose suppose to be protecting us..] ]
[center [b But despite all the cons.. Earth is home.] ]
[b [center Atticus Finch; businessman and head of Trade throughout the Three levels of the city] ]
[center [pic https://i.pinimg.com/236x/c8/1a/03/c81a03241f9f2e1b32ae858a534cba82--character-ideas-character-art.jpg] ]
[center [pic http://cdn.mos.cms.futurecdn.net/837ff687b2899653b940816e00ae7d69.jpg] ]
The academy had always put pressure on him to excel well in life and had pushed him to be his very best. However it never prepared him for this. The deafening sound of explosions or the screams of panic. Thousands of bodies running frantically to and fro trying to seek shelter from the chaos which ensured. Twenty two years old and the commanding officer of the entire military police, he'd gotten the signal that the lower realms of the city were under attack and with out any hesitation he sprung forth into action.
[i "Quick! Our number one goal is to protect the citizens and to subdue any resisiting people of the rebellion!] That would be his first mistake.
In the lower realms people carried weapons to protect themselves. And even though their were laws and things done by the book not all adhere to them strictly. As much as they tried to protect those who needed protection sometimes it was impossible to do so. Ushering people into safety, the soldiers confiscated any weapon they found and those who resist were thrown to the ground and handcuffed. Meanwhile the young commander ran around trying to help others who had fallen and and escort them to safety before he heard a voice call out his name.
Turning his head he saw unfamiliar faces smile as those people approached him slowly. All the while he was carrying a civilian using his entire body weight to support them. [i "Come with me! I'm the commanding-]
[b "We know who you are. A privilege brat put into power... say, youre pretty knowledgeable about the workings of the politics.. why don't you join the rebellion? Or work as a double agent? Our leader Cal, would love a bright boy like you.. as a matter of fact, she's on screen right now."]
As soon as he finish his words, the figure of a red hair woman popped upwards on screen. Over her words he screamed [i "Help me with these people first! We can discuss politic later!!" ]
And with that the rebels moved to help guide the injured and Marcus Thorn turned a blind eye to their treason and instead turned an open ear to what the woman above screen said.
There was no indication as to how much time had passed. It seemed as though hours had gone by when in reality it was a mere matter of minutes. The woman took her time to fix her hair, all the while Darcia stared blankly ahead, oblivious to what dangers were happening a few miles from their location. She had known all too well what dangers this world held and she was sure that she might discover more after the days end.
[b “Is the cargo prepared?”] The voice snaked through the air and sent shivers down her spine. Cargo. That was all she was now. She used to be a person and although she had lived a rather unnoticed existence, she wished that she could return to simpler times. Darcia would happily return to the shadows and live her life quietly if it meant that she hadn’t become the cargo of those who wish to sell her for profit. The woman behind her dropped her hands, indicating that she had completed her task yet she didn’t hear the confirmation. It was clear that the communication had been passed silently as the man who had entered the room moved forward and took hold of her arm. His grip was tight and would likely cause the formation of a bruise upon her pale skin later. However, they would ensure that such imperfections were concealed before allowing her to go on sale.
He pulled at her arm, indicating that she should follow and she complied quickly, not wanting to lose her balance and fall. The time of her inspection had arrived and she was being taken back into the hall. As she approached it, she took note of the ornate decoration. Darica would have admired such a building, taking note of its beauty if she was here under different circumstances. As she entered the room, she saw a row of men standard before a group of men and women who seemed to have lost their confidence in their stance. Their backs were hunched slightly and the look of fear was so clear upon their faces. She recognised it because it was a fear she felt too. In turn each man moved through the crowd of people, inspecting their bodies, their faces and making a decision about which room to take them to. If they might have fetched a high price, they were taking to a room where only the richest of the rich would be. If not, they were sold off to the highest bidder elsewhere.
The grip that had been so tight upon her arm loosened now and she was pushed forward to another man who caught her as she stumbled.
[b “Careful now.”] His voice was soft but she knew that it was merely so she did not right him. Darica didn’t have the energy to even if she wanted to. Instead, she worked hard to avoid any eye contact from him. His took her face in is hand, gently turning her head in different directions so that he could take in the sight of different parts of her face. When he was satisfied, he walked around her body, every now and then shifting a bit of material to check for scars or bruises. She had been lucky to avoid obtaining any until now. Her arm was already beginning to bruise and he noticed it too. He leant over and whispered to one of his colleagues, tell him to escort her to the room where the rich would reside.
[b “Make sure that bruise is covered.”] He said a little louder now before she was being led to another room to cover the bruise and then another where she would be greeted by those who might wish to buy her.
Miles away from Calliope, in the heart of humanity’s hub, a well-dressed young man and his compatriots received their orders to move. Trevor split off from the group, entering a glittering building. The warmth of the indoors was greatly welcome, especially on his poor ears. His thick hair normally covered them. However, for this mission he had to be presentable by inner city standards. His hair was cropped short and he was stuffed into business casual attire. The dark tones nearly getting lost on his equally dark skin, or so he thought. When he passed by a wall filled up with decorative mirrors he caught glimpse of himself. Thank the powers that be he didn’t look as stuffy as he felt, in fact he almost looked dashing, but this was so far out of his comfort zone that it didn’t last. Not to mention there were a million other things to worry about.
As planned, things inside were in an absolute frenzy. While he had visited the building a number of times in the past month to make himself a familiar presence, no one heeded him any mind in the communication center. Explosions throughout the area, including some within this building, had everyone preoccupied. Doubly so for any guards who were stationed here.
Taking his chance to sneak into the back, the security was unbelievably thin. So much so that he didn’t encounter a real problem till he reached the area he needed to breach. In front of the thick metal door stood a tall man in full uniform. He was armed and didn’t look like he would be moving anytime soon. Before being seen, Trevor removed a small firearm from his side. Quickly taking aim, he fired. The guard immediately fell to the floor unconscious, as the rebel hit his mark. Stepping over the body, he didn’t take the time to hide his deed. Instead he settled with locking himself in the otherwise empty control room.
Huge computers lined the walls. They were built to keep the entire city connected. Sure there were smaller centers like this scattered around, but it all eventually came back to this focal point. Rumor had it they were looking to do away with this system though. Something about replacing it with a communications tower big enough to marvel the masses, but they were still trying to find the right mind to design it. These people were picky as all hell, so it could take years. But with the resistance’s current resources there was no way they could take something like that down, so they couldn’t chance waiting.
Making himself comfortable in the chair that faced the single monitor in the room, he scooted up to the screen. Swiftly he plugged a driver into the system and got to work. There were three stages to this plan. For now he would focus on the first, which in turn made the second inevitable. The third was a little more out of his control. But he pushed that from his mind.
Trevor typed frantically at the keys. A satisfying clicking filling the room and fading into the hum of the computers. Within five minutes he was through the most challenging bit. The rest was child’s play. With that said, the entire process took less than ten minutes in total. Pressing a button on his cuff, he spoke into the device. [b “I’m ready whenever you are.”]
On the other side, Cal had made it to her destination, a sort of middle ground area. It looked nice enough on the outside, but the people were just as destitute. This was the region nearly all of humanity’s food supply came from. And along the edge of the grounds stood members of the rebellion in stolen military armor, each adjacent to a post that had been driven into the ground.
Wasting no time, the dark eyed woman made her way to her own station. She entered one of the annex buildings. There a man greeted her with a surprised expression. He must have been expecting someone with a greater presence. While sorry to disappoint, there was nothing she could do to change it. She instead stood tall, and rested her arms behind her back before nodding to him. He in turn shuffled around the clutter of cords and electronics that were strung about. Eventually he pointed a camera seated on a tripod toward her. [b “We’re ready here.”] His voice was low and rough.
Despite the distance and shoddy signal, Trevor heard the man loud and clear. With the click of a single button Calliope’s form was broadcasted onto every screen, hologram projector, and cyber kinetic cranial enhancement within the dome.
[font gentium [center Nikolai still stood in the cold outside the city, the toxic clouds off in the distance quickly nearing as the protective veil began to form like circuitry around the city. There had been no answer to his knock the first time, but he could hear some of the other stationed guards on the inside screaming frantically about something exploding. Assuming his knock had gone unheard over the loud voices, he knocked again--harder, this time, with more inhuman force that only cyborgs can administer.
Finally, Nikolai heard the gate's large lock system unlocking with three heavy clicks, and the huge door sat slightly ajar. It didn't open any further, which was unusual--there were several guards stationed solely for the purpose of opening the door, as it took more than one to do so, but there didn't appear to be even a single person attempting it.
In mild annoyance, and angst at the quickly oncoming death-rain, Nikolai put his hands upon the cool steel of the door and pushed inward. The door budged and moved about a meter before he gave up on trying any further; he didn't need to, anyhow, he could fit through the gap without the gate being entirely open.
Sliding in, he noted that his suspicions had been correct--there were no guards here. Furthermore, he noted that the voices he had heard screaming before were gone now. It appeared as though the entire post had been cleared. The locked military weapons rack along the inner wall of the gate was also empty.
The only time something like that happened was when the guards were called away to something more urgent and pressing, usually an attack of some sort by the rebel forces. Nikolai furrowed his brow and turned around to hastily push the gate back in to place. It was easier to close the gate than open it, and it took little effort this time. The automated system began locking it as soon as it was in position, and Nikolai turned back to the empty lookout. Surprised he hadn't noticed it a moment ago, he was suddenly overwhelmed with the smells of ash and burning flesh--a large grey smog cloud was forming over the city, trapped inside by the huge protective dome.
Feeling rather confused as to what had happened, Nikolai headed towards the metal command-center several meters to the right of the main gate. More of a shack than a proper headquarters, the command-center was one of several across the city that had direct contact with the government's shuttle above, as well as with each other. It was mostly used to convey the goings on of each day between districts, and reports were rarely made to the government space shuttle except in cases of emergencies.
The building was rusted over and no longer shined like it had when first built, but it had rather strong safety measures to avoid being taken over and abused by the common citizen. An eye-scanner confirmed Nikolai's identity and clearance, allowing him entrance.
The center was just as devoid of life as the lookout post, which definitely struck Nikolai with the severity of the situation. There were screens all around the interior of the five-by-five one-story building, and each one had a flashing red screen. Some were emblazoned with the word "[i danger]."
The main computer, a larger screen that sat in the middle of the far wall, had a variety of distress messages from the other command-centers in each district. Quickly, Nikolai skim-read each one and came to the conclusion that each district was facing the same issue--large-scale explosive attacks, which mostly targeted the central and upper districts.
Nikolai briefly pondered that he was lucky to have been outside the walls when it had happened, but dismissed the thought as inconsiderate.
It appeared that no connection with the government had yet been made, and that each district was acting within themselves to respond to the attacks.
Sitting down in the large chair, he opened up the messaging link with the government space shuttle and wrote a brief message: [b Under attack. What are your orders?] Attaching the messages from all of the command centers, he input his identification code and hit send.
It seemingly came from nowhere. The eruption of flames which happen the moment he made it to the section where the rations had just ended being served to the common people. One moment he found himself walking towards the people in a cool fashion, the next he felt heat onto the left of his body. It wasn’t pain that shook him, rather it was the force of the blast projecting him sideways and making him slam into a building which rattle him. For a moment a high-pitch ringing deafen him to the sound of people screaming. There was carnage.. Yes, bodies littered the ground and the several of his fellow ‘soldiers’ laid face down stiffen as if they were unable to move. Jerking his body forward, he rocked to and fro steadying himself, preparing to launch himself into the fray as civilians began to limp towards him. Yet, all around him several buildings began to erupt into explosions..
Like chain reactions, the explosions seemed to rattle along the city. Set up in random places the explosions weren’t meant to harm but to nearly cause a distraction. A nuisance to those who ruled as ‘tyrants’ over the masses.. However, for the man who was in the the midst of the flames, he didn’t know the bigger picture. Staggering to his feet, he reached out telepathically to all those who were in the service and could help. His duty was clear; he would rescue all he could in the midst of this hell.
Sprinting forward blindly, his first task was to drag those out who had caught by the debris of building collapsing. As screams reach his ears, he slid leg first to the nearest building and spoke out over the voices. Whether or not his voice was heard was impossible to tell. The air smelt of smoke and panic. Grabbing hold of the concrete building he strained with all his might to lift and show that he was worth more than a damn. His alterations allowed him to lift more than the average human, so as he grunted and strained, he hope that there would be those who would come to his aid and pull out those who’ve been trapped beneath.
Hands pulled out trapped people by arms and many people alike help each other to bring one another to safety. Doubled over by the weight of four or five bodies, the general staggered forward carrying those who could not walk onto he fell forward and dumped them unto the ground which was several feet away from the burning buildings which sent smoldering smoke upwards. Surely the blackness of the smoke was visible from the upper realm and it would be a sign to the oppressor that hope would not be snuffed out.
She hadn’t even noticed the way that her body shivered at the touch of the men who transferred her in to a building she didn’t even recognise. At first Darcia thought that chill had come as a result of the cold air around her but the truth was, the cold was something she no longer felt and it was simply the disgust of having hands upon her, taking her to a fate that she wanted nothing to do with. Darcia had heard stories of those who had been taken to work within an industry that only benefitted those who profited from the sale of humans.
She had no idea what her fate would be and she was sure that it wouldn’t be something that would become clear in such a short space of time. She was one of the few who knew that the rumours of slavery had, in fact, been true but there was no real understanding of what the slaves were used for or even who was in the market to purchase another being who had once been an equal to them. That thought itself was naïve because in this world, no one was truly equal. There was such a divide in social class within the society that had built itself upon corruption, power and exploitation and Darcia was just another one of the poor souls who seemed to have nothing to live for.
As she was being directed towards the building, she found her feet stumbling as she walked, blind to the path before her. Both literally and figuratively. There was no way that she could know what fate awaited her once she would set foot passed the threshold of the building where the business transactions would take place and the last thing she expected was to have the blanket removed and to be taken away for a final preparation before she was fully inspected.
[b “Make sure she looks pristine before you bring her back to hall. I have a feeling she would make someone a perfect bed slave.”] The man laughed and Darcia’s expression spoke more than any words could. It was more than disgusting and something that she felt made them feel as though they have travelled back to Roman times where it had become common for poorer women to be condemned to such a fate. Never had she imagined that it was something that still existed today but then, she had hoped that slavery itself had been eradicated long ago.
She didn’t have the time of the nerve to protest as a woman took her by the arm led her towards an area where she would bath and change her clothes. She would have been grateful for the use of hot water if it hadn’t been for such a sickening purpose but she knew that she had no authority here and she had no right to protest to those who could not do anything about her position her so she simply went through the routine of stripped down to her bare skin while those around her inspected her body and prepared her for an official inspection.
Darcia felt numb to what was going on around her, simply taking no notice of the way that they woman played with her hair almost as though she was nothing more than a display designed to attract those with money but she guessed now, this is what she had become upon her capture and there was not much she could do about it now. The men before were right, she had no one left in the world who would care about her absence. Now she simply had to hope that whoever bought her had better intentions than her capture had suggested.
The world outside grew dimmer as the computer-generated dome came up, covering the metropolis from whatever was on its way. More likely than not it was acid rain. The covering did its job for the most part. The majority of people were able to come out unscathed. However some of the outer edges of the city had to worry about glitches in the system. Maintenance’s top priority would always be the upper districts; therefore they seldom made it out to these parts. Luckily the holes were few and far between. So long as you kept an eye open you could avoid them and keep safe. But there was always someone who didn’t pay enough attention and paid dearly for it later.
The days leading up to her plan’s execution were slow going. Calliope wasn’t sure if this was due to excitement or her nerves. A lot was hinging on this move. If they succeeded it would be their first real victory and possibly a turning point in this mess, but it they failed there is no doubt many people would lose their lives. Whether it was death or slavery, their existences would no longer be their own. It was a heavy burden to bear, but she didn’t dare shy away from it. If she did, it was likely she would become complacent to the tragedies around her. Not much unlike the current government. And that was simply something she could not abide.
Time was particularly slow the day of. Things were unusually quiet. She thought it a shame. When things stopped moving like this, people got antsy. If they were on guard, the peacekeepers would be as well. It was not ideal. And while hey might have caught on that something was in the works, the fiery haired woman was confident they had no idea what it was. Holding on tightly to that optimism was what allowed her to make it as far as she had.
1257 hours. It was almost time. Calliope stood from the bench she resided and began to walk through the streets. Walking, as though she had a purpose, she really wasn’t headed anywhere just yet. Passing time on her feet to seem less suspicious to those that might have their eyes on her. It helped to keep her mind clear as well. Then, as if by clockwork, at 1300 hours a slew of eruptions sounded. The echoing of explosives could be heard across the entirety of the city. Each was strategically placed. They hit the center pretty hard, but they were littered across the lower districts as well.
People began to panic. Many not knowing what was happening or what to do. It was in this commotion that Calliope set course to where she needed to be. It was quite the trek, but she would have time. She moved through the rushing crowds, ducking passed shouting keepers. All the time her mind was on those who would be hurt by this devastation. The notion that it was her fault tugged at her stomach and heart. It was unforgivable. Even though it was for the greater good, in the end it didn’t excuse her actions or choices. The woman only hoped that those who were lost, or lost loved ones, held onto the grudge she had created in them. Surely, one day she would get what was coming to her, but until then she had a goal and she was going to make it a reality.
Judging by the uproar being caused down below, she knew the central zone would be in a much worse state. It was going absolutely perfectly to plan. And as she made her way to her designated position she knew that somewhere else in the city the second phase of the operation was being put into action.
[font gentium [center Nikolai sighed and checked the time on the corner of the screen on his black government-issue lenses. 10 minutes until the end of his shift.
The shades, which he pushed up further on to the bridge of his nose precariously, were something of a breakthrough in interactive technology. Alas, they were reserved for use by government officials and certain military members, such as those given the especially pretentious job of patrolling. There were only a few men allowed to leave the walls of the city for this duty, and Nikolai was one of those prestigious few.
He supposed that those of the bountiful floating shuttle above were concerned that if they sent out just anybody beyond the wall for patrol missions, they would attempt to run away.
Nikolai had never even seriously thought about trying to flee, for multiple reasons. He knew it would be futile--he had a tracking chip and they could most definitely wipe him out whenever they wanted--and, he just didn't really care.
There was something peaceful about patrolling, away from the brawls and riots that explode on the daily within the walls of the Capitol. Peace and quiet were hard to come by. He cared very little about the resistance movement, these days, and had resigned himself to a quiet government life.
It was this sense of neutrality that had boosted him up in the ranks these past few years, earning him special privileges like the glasses, as well as newer issue technology for his mechanical limbs.
Sometimes, Nikolai wondered if he was something of a pet to the government; always being praised and given gifts, in exchange for him rolling over to their every whim. It wasn't a good life, but it wasn't a bad one either, he decided.
Sighing, he decided he best return to his office post and report on the happenings during his shift. As always, nothing interesting had happened, beyond the return of a few groups of hunters that had been allowed to exit the city for foraging--at their own discretion.
About 100m from the main entrance to the Capitol, he turned on his heels to head back towards it. By now, there was a tinge of grey and green hovering above the horizon, the signature afternoon colours of toxicity that constantly reminded him they were living in a once thriving wasteland.
Under his breath, he chuckled slightly. He wondered how many citizens had seen the horizon--probably not many. The tall walls around the city meant that to most, the horizon was just grey metal.
He had to admit, the colours were mesmerizing, if beautiful even. He doubted there would be many people left to see it in the coming future--humanity was a dying race. He had no intentions of halting its inevitable demise.
While walking, the [i crunch crunch] of rubble and dust quaking beneath his heavy black boots, Nikolai noticed something off in the distance, where the horizon sat unimpeded by buildings.
Clouds--or, more correctly, pale green clouds. Toxic rain. An occasional event, that would most definitely burn the skin off of anybody who stood out in it too long. Yet another thing to thank their stupid human ancestors for, with their idiotic nuclear war.
'[b [#315c70 At least it gives me something interesting to report on,]]' he said aloud, not realizing he had done so. Thoughts and speech often got confused when one spent most of their time in isolation walking around a huge city wall with nothing better to do than hope for a natural disaster to tell big government about.
He hummed to himself as he knocked on the huge city gate for entrance back in; there was maybe 20--no, 30 minutes until the looming clouds would reach them. Time enough to enclose the city in that big dome they have stored in the walls, no doubt... he hoped?
[left [pic https://i.pinimg.com/236x/c0/5b/28/c05b28571cbf7e56e89420de4746b39e--old-paladin-aiden-shaw.jpg]]Piss. Smoke. Sweat. Blood. Stench hung thick in the cramped bar, smothering it's inhabitants like a blanket. Disheveled men and gaunt women shuffled to and fro, murmuring quietly amongst themselves. It was a strange kind of peace, a humble acceptance of circumstance. In the few hours between shifts, people were too tired for thoughts of rebellion, too hung up on thoughts of their next pint to remember their last meal. Sad, sure, but content they were none the less.
At one side of the bar hunched a veritable bear of a man. Giant hands made his mug almost comical in size, and his obvious age did little to detract from his imposing nature. The skin of his shoulders, though covered in thin white hair, was pulled tight over rippling muscle. Muscle that extended down through hulking arms and presumably to log like legs.
"Barin, ye' right luv? Fancy another?" crowed the bird like woman tending the bar. Barin grunted and nodded in response, never taking his glassy blue eyes from the bottom of his beer.
It had been 4 years since the man found himself in the northern slums. Rumors still passed back and forth about his origins, only strengthened by his refusal to discuss it. Many had him pegged as some kind of black ops soldier, or a hired killer. Some one of mystery and intrigue. They weren't far from the truth. In his decades as a guard captain, he certainly felt like nothing more than a killer. It was this disillusionment that finally prompted him to 'resign', handing in his two weeks notice in the form of a prison break and a gunfight. Since then, he had taken to a life of drunken peace, avoiding the frequent riots and brawls. This in spite of the frequent pestering of the resistance to join their cause.
"Make it two Darlene..Reckon I'll be headin' off soon. Cold makes m' bones ache" he rasped, his baritone voice clearly dulled by the passage of time. It had been a while since the fighting and shouting had died down, and he figure now would be as good a time as any to head back without drawing the ire of the peacekeepers.
"Sure luv, sure. Hows about some oil too yeah? For te' leg" she cooed. Barin glanced down below the counter with a grimace. Below the knee of his left leg was a mass of pipes, valves and wires. An early model prosthetic, cobbled together from machinery parts and clearly well used. The faint hum of gears and pistons floated through the idle chatter of the bar. He nodded in agreeance and rubbed his thigh just above the metal.
"Aye, that too. That too" he murmured, trailing off.
[center The woman's stomach rumbled so fiercely, it actually caused her to look around in a panic. [i Haven't heard that in a few days...] She thought to herself. Luckily, the city's "watering hole" was already in sight. Hold a blade to the right brat's throat, and she'd get enough rations to feed herself for days. Besides, even the government agreed, feed the able and let the weak die. Right?
The woman lifted her dress, her delicate fingers running up her leg until she reached her needle-like throwing daggers made from military scraps. The metal was much more durable than anything available around here, and corpses oils to use them, it totally didn't matter that they became corpses because of her anyway.
Convieniently for the murderess, those who had already received their rations were just outside the circle of...well, for lack of better words, beggars. Them being this far out would take any military mutts a minute at least to react to anything going on. A sly smirk spread across the woman's face; she was so delighted to get this started.
As she took a step forward, she heard a voice.
"[+darkslategrey Its almost appalling we have to do this whole ration thing while they live in luxury, no?]"
She stood silent, her back still to the voice, clenching her blade.
"[+darkslategrey Nice weapon you got there. Really plan on hurting someone with it?]"
She had no desire to respond to this man.
The figure stepped beside her. He was cloaked, so well in fact that has clothing even seemed to alter what the mans size was. He was impossible to read.
"[+darkslategrey You know, hunger does drive people to do terrible things.]" The man broke a loaf of bread in half, handing the smaller to her. At
At first she hesitated, but her stomach spoke for her with another grumble, so she snatched the bread from his hand and angrily took a bite.
"[+darkslategrey Good, now you don't need to hurt anyone. There are children around who need no part in witnessing murder.]"
The woman cringed. She did not care for the emotions of little creatures such as children, but the [i way] he said it made her spine crawl. She turned to thank him.
In one swift motion, the hooded figure snatched her blade from her, and attempted to jab it in to her stomach. He suceeded. Luckily, it didn't pierce far, she knew she could patch the wound.
When he realized he failed, he dropped the blade and ran.
"[+crimson Oh, hunger does it, huh asshole?]" She hissed, putting pressure on her wound as blood pooled below her. A woman nearby witnessed the whole event play out, and when she realized it was over, she screamed in terror. As for the white haired beauty bleeding from her gut, she rolled her eyes, and sat slowly, beginning to unlace her corset to expose the wound.
Steel eyes of the darkest shade of brown looked down below as the crowd of hungry people began to congregate together. Loaves of bread and canned meats were being given out to the people who could barely stay afloat in the poverty stricken-world below. This, [i this] was a part of being general of the military police. Feeding those in need and making sure that they’re weren’t any people who had the great idea of stirring up trouble. Riots were frequent along with the rhetoric that the people above ground weren’t to be trusted. If only they could all know the truth..
Standing above on his hoverboard, he pressed the thrusters down upon his board and instantly he began to descend. Heading down towards the breadline, the general let slide a smile that painted him as nothing more than an average person. Beneath the long sleeve so of his uniform none could see the cybernetic technology which gave him up to be no longer a part of the norm. He was apart of the elite. The small percent of people which did their damnedest to make sure things were effect and smooth..
Hopping off his hoverboard, his feet carried him towards the line as he began scanning the people. [#b4cbc3 “I can’t believe that somehow.. Somewhere, a bunch of rag-tagged untrained and undisciplined people were able to get their hands on high-grade military tech.”] A voice which was not his own rained through his mind.. Neither flinching at the words or speaking he began walking towards the soup line his voice rising above the others.
[b “Alright everyone. Single file. Single file. Remember they’re three lines.. One for food, one for water, one for toiletries. Three cans of beef and a two loaves of bread per two person is the ration. Families with children are top priority. We need our children to be taken care of!”] Faking sincerity he began to walk the lines surveying the people.
In the central part of the city poverty wasn’t as big as it was out north where the coldness was frequent or East. This was the path of convergence. Ample opportunities existed to at least make a decent liveable wage.. And as he walked the lines to and fro he sighed.
[#927349 General Zero here. Central food lines seem to be under control. Haven’t seen any suspicious activies yet. But the day is still young.. Section 01 is clear. Now to head to section 02-010.”]
Throwing out his hoverboard in front of him he hopped on it and began to fly offwards.
[center [pic https://i0.wp.com/www.volksbahn.biz/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/Augmented-Reality.gif?fit=383%2C265&ssl=1] ]
[size20 [font "Calibri" As the rebel forces gather below to begin preparing for their assault against the oppressive regime, little do they know that the forces which be above are actively looking for suspicious behavior. As Hunters from outside begin to search for food in desperation to feed their own population.. The stage is set for the beginning of an exciting story to unfold] ]
[h3 Phase 1; complete. Phase 2; Begin.]
Cold. It was not just a word to describe the temperature of one's skin or the way the wind felt as it danced upon the bodies of those still human enough to feel the horrifying shudder of coldness. The world itself had grown cold and cruel in its ways and so had the people who still resided upon the harsh lands that we once called home. There were not many left among the living who could think for themselves as they had grown numb to the governmental regime that had be forced upon the world.
The streets were almost desolate and had once been full of those not fully understanding the danger that surrounded them every day and those who pretended not to see things to keep themselves safe, or what they believed to be safe. There would always be violence and decay on the streets as long as there was a resistance to those who controlled them. Once upon a time there were bustles of busy humans going about their everyday lives never really understanding how much of a blur their life had become. They never really knew how dangerous the world would have become back then, in their careless world. It was different now.
She watched the streets from inside the transportation that she had been forced into and pulled her jacket tighter around her form, more out of comfort than anything else. Of course she was here against her will but no one would know or care.
They were just rumors. To some that is all the talk was. Some knew better; those with first-hand experience of said rumors. Darcia was one of those people. Unlucky enough to have been left without a family and anyone to notice that she was no longer among those that go about their everyday business. Slavery was very real and many turned a blind eye to it, not wanting to get executed for going against their government. The only people who were even remotely clued in to what was happening was a group of resistance but individuals being taken into slavery was the least of their priorities. Armour and weapons were more important to them. How else would they fight?
An abrupt stop brought Darcia out of her thoughts as she heard male voices conversing outside.
[b “New cargo being brought in for inspection.”]
[b “Seriously, just the one this time?”]
[b “It’s rare to find one like this though. She has no ties, no family. No one will ask questions and she is certainly a looker. This is extra anyway. The quota has already been met so just take her in and get her ready for inspection. I have a feeling that she is going to be worth quite the sum.”]
Darcia couldn’t see the men conversing as they were slightly out of her eye line but she knew that she hated them and she knew that she had no way of getting out of this and fighting would be pointless. She would have to decide between life as a slave or be executed for fighting it. Little did she knew that she wouldn’t even get the chance to choose.
The sharp pain in her neck lasted only a minute but her hand went straight up to where it ached and felt the retraction of some sort of needle before her eyes started to feel heavy and her body started to become numb. [i This is how they ensured that we can’t fight.] She thought before her body fell into a complete slumber. The doors opened and two men reached in to take her in doors but first they covered he with a blanket so the ‘cargo’ was unrecognizable to any passers-by; not that there would be any in these parts but they could never be too safe.
[b “Quickly now. They won’t wait forever.”]
To say life was difficult down in the lower circles was a gross, and frankly audacious, understatement. Certainly hell would be better than this, but it was that sentiment that drove her forward. As a part of the ever-growing resistance, Calliope Vinton had a burning hope for the future. And it was going to take a lot more suffering than this to snuff it out. After all the worse they could do was kill her, and she was sure hades would be a paradise after all she’d seen here.
Running a hand through her fiery hair, she pushed the tangled mop back to reveal burnt umber eyes. They seemed too focused. She almost didn’t recognize her reflection. However it was undoubtedly her staring back through the mirror, anything else would be nonsensical. Glancing over her frame, the clothes she wore were about as non descript as they come. Dark colors, no logos, plain and simple. Made it easier to blend in. And while it wouldn’t stand out to wear her weapon visibly, Cal chose to keep it tucked away. The firearm stayed concealed in a holster that sat at her waist of her pants. She found that it worked better as an ace in the hole than a warning.
Outside the hovel that was her living quarters, the woman made her way to her appointment for the day. The surrounding area blended together with everything around it. The drab gray and browns seeped into it all. Nothing was left untouched by the distinct impression of wasteland. Had she not lived there her entire life, she wasn’t sure she would be able to find her way around.
While the streets were bustling with all sorts of miserable people, Cal kept her dark eyes plastered to the path ahead of her. Today was not the day to be late. The resistance had been planning for this day for ages. For the first time in forever they would set the gears turning for something huge. While it would slow going at first, she was sure it would lead to an upset the likes the modern world had never seen. If all these people could only hold on a little longer, the future might just hold opportunities for them as well.
The meeting place, like everything else, was run down. The front was a pub owned by one of the founding members relatives. It made a perfect guise to make people mind their own damn business. After all, not a single one of these lowlifes wanted to lose the only decent place to grab a drink for tens of miles. It was in their best interest to keep their mouths shut, and Cal like it that way.
Slipping silently into the back, there was a sort of trap door that led to the underground. It was easy to get lost in the dark corridors, but she knew the way well enough get through. Eventually she would make it to the meeting all. Every pair of eyes shot to her as she opened to door. While this place was well hidden, tension was on high at the moment.
Giving a light nod to those already sitting at the table, the woman took the last empty seat. Carefully she looked over all the faces, everyone was here. [b “Since we are all here, let’s get started.”] Her words were commanding, exuding the authority she had here. Aside from the handful of people at this meeting, no one knew that she was the spearhead of their rebellion. It was one of the few perks of looking so much younger than she really was. The rebel soldiers that did know her thought she was a grunt, just like them. It was nice. It kept her humble and able to see what problems were arising in the ranks.
[b “As you all know, our friends in the second circle have made good on their promise to procure the prototype armor that’s been rumored to be making its debut soon… They ran a rather conspicuous test trial, and to all our surprise the vestments work.”] A poised smirk played at the corners of her lips. [b “As per our agreement, half of that shipment will be coming our way.] The resistance had funded much of the petty thieves’ operation, but this new tech was well worth the investment of their precious resources. [b “We have laid low long enough. The opposing forces will be focused on tracking down those who committed the heist, it is finally time to put our plan into action.”] Many of her comrades had been impatient for this day, a din of excitement roared up. [b “Everyone will receive a missive reminding them of their roles, study them well and don’t disappoint me.”] With that the meeting came to its close.
Leaving the establishment, Calliope smiled. Things were finally being put into motion.
[font gentium [center Nikolai let out a sigh, though his "breath" was met with no steam from the icy cold surrounding him; he was just as cold. Not that he could feel it, though, for the majority of his body was of cyber technology design--a small price to pay for daring to rebel against the authoritarian government. It was either become a mechanical weapon to be used as a tool in the oppressive regime that is the military, or submit to death right then and there, at the feet of the leader of the entire planet.
Sometimes, he wondered if he should have chosen the latter, but he had always been afraid of death, and had chosen the cowards' route. [i [#62808e Anybody who claims they aren't afraid of death, is either a liar, or an idiot,]] he thought to himself calmly, as he patrolled the far west edge of the "capitol" city.
Patrols were one of the few times he got to be alone, so he savoured them. Usually, his entire day was filled with training of some sort, or tutoring new recruits in how to use their mangled new cyber limbs. But sometimes, if he was lucky, Nikolai was given the opportunity to stroll on the outside of the main gates, where humans were not allowed to go for fear of toxicity. While out there, he had two duties; watch for escapees, and watch for the gathering parties sent out by the military.
He had not yet come across anybody trying to flee the capitol on his own patrols, but he often heard of it. It made him wonder why some people would rather risk their faces melting off, and imminent death, than live under an oppressive regime. And then, that made him wonder again if he had made the right choice in becoming a cyborg--if other people were so unafraid to die for their morality, why wasn't he?
His thoughts were cut off short, thankfully he thought, by the sound of voices coming from the far distance. The hunting team, he assumed.
How animals had managed to adapt to the radioactive wasteland that now made up most of earth, he hadn't the slightest clue, but they had done it. The only problem was that now, most of them were monstrous and hard to kill--and a lot of them were toxic, though there had been found ways to purify the meat.
Nikolai was correct in his assumption, and a group of three or four humans came in to sight, all clad in the same anti-radiation clothing. He noticed that one was carrying something, and for a moment he had a spark of dull hope that it might be food, to feed the starving citizens. But no, it was just another dead human, gone to waste at the hands of the uncaring government, who couldn't even spare one of their militant cyborgs, who are immune to the radiation, to go do the hunting.
Nikolai sighed again, now, and once again there was no stream of steam where hot breath met cold air. He shook his head, and walked over to the ginormous looming front gate that marked the single entrance to the city; speaking through the communication device plugged on to the side of the metal gate, he informed the other militants that stood on the opposite side of the wall that the hunter gatherers had returned--one man short.
With that done, he returned to patrolling--no time to waste on pitying the dead, when it's a more common occurrence than food. Not that he needed any.
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