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Thread: [M] Futuropolis 2094

  1. #21
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    "Right, uh... I'm pretty sure we're close to the High Street station." Joseph scanned the buildings around him for a bearing. "Yeah, it's just a block or two away from here." He tucked his identification back into his pants and collected his iron pipe off the ground. Awkwardly speed-walking to keep pace with the doctor, he tried to hide his face from the circling drones. "Jesus Christ, what the hell is even going on? All those people in Paris, just... the casualties alone!"

    Together they trailed the detective from a distance. Joseph's talking faded out, and he became somber. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a bright yellow rubber fob, the kind designed to float in water, attached to it a tiny bent key. Worn white letters on the fob read The Untouchable; the Intangible! He took a deep breath and glanced up again.

    "This planet is falling apart," he said suddenly, "and it's because of people like that pig, him and those bastards on Luna sitting in their ivory towers. They're scum, the whole lot of them."
    Last edited by MarsShadow; 05-15-2018 at 05:38 AM.

  2. #22
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    Despite no more gun-swinging medics and oppressiveness, things still hadn't calmed down on Greenflower street.

    A police aerocruiser gently flew down from above and parked on the footbridge. Three officers piled out, accompanied by a security droid. As the cops dispersed, the droid remained near the aerocruiser. It had a slim aluminium human-like frame and a 2-shaped head with a big red light as its center eye.



    "Pierre, ask around for surveillance." The senior cop directed his younger colleague to Takahashi's noodle shop. Together with the remaining ladycop, the senior police sergeant wandered off into the aid center. The cops all wore bright-green reflecting bulletproof vests with NCPD on the back as to indicate the populace of their presence.

    Pierre walked up to Takahashi's counter. It was obvious what altitude he grew up in, as the young copper still looked fresh and optimistic despite being in the lower levels. Quintus threw a gaze at him, momentarily distracted from the ashen-haired curves. He had to admit; seeing such an optimistic posture this far down was soothing, despite it being a cop.

    "Robot?"
    Takahashi responded with another pre-recorded dialogue; "Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"
    The young cop didn't quite know how to respond. "I uh, could I see those caméras?" He showed his holobadge to Takahashi, who scanned it with its eye-on-a-stick. Like the model citizen he was, Takahashi held its electro-arm on the young officer's holobadge. The cop sat down on one of the stools along the counter to view the standoff between Detective Cellobs and the yet-unknown doctor on his holobadge. At the end of the footage, Pierre the cop turned to the rest of the people in the noodle shop. His eyes, unfortunately, locked on Auntie Simone. "Madam? Would you mind answering a few questiòn?"

    -- --

    Avalon's rad-ass bike dubbed the Babe was still parked in the first alley left of the Ibutsu aid center. A good spot - central and in the shade - if there wasn't a big screen next to it showing whole greenflower some shit straight out of a post-apocalyptica flick, followed by a near-shootout. Suffice to say, the alleys leading down to streetlevel were now busy.

    In the alley were the Babe stood, elegantly leaning on some bicycles, were also a few middle-aged punks. While two of them stood on the other side of the alley shooting up whatever substance was in the syringe, the lady-punk next to them sat on some trashbags while she smoked some cobalt cigarettes: one of Nova Casqua's most popular new drugs.

    A voice came from above; "Hhh! Stop pissing in my street, yer no-good punks!" It was an old lady, who enjoyed her own clean cigarette from a balcony above the alley.

    She threw her walking stick down, it landing on the final middle-aged punk; who was taking a leak against the old lady's house. As he fell over, a stream of urine splashed on the Babe's front mudguard before he could zip it up. This cobalt-smoking asshole just left three distinct blue-glowing piss stains on Avalon's beloved motorbike.

    -- --

    A bit higher up and on the other end of the street, Detective Cellobs sat on a doorstep in a narrow alley to relay info to the Inquiry through his holobadge. "...he was very adamant to not let me in to the Ibutsu building." He paused and looked around to be certain no-one heard. "Perhaps he knows?"
    On the other end of the line was an Inquirer, Cellobs' boss. "We can't afford a leak. Not now, in this critical hour. Capture that doctor and bring him in for questioning."
    "Understood." he replied, "Am I allowed to use leth-" Cellobs looked up and disengaged the call as some cape-wearing junk passed him by looking like a zombie. He could also hear a faint voice coming from the stairwell where he came from: "And it's because of people like that pig, him and those bastards on Luna sitting in their ivory towers. They're scum, the whole lot of them." Cellobs quickly hid in the shadows of the doorway, quietly took out his PKD and filled the five chambers with tranq-darts.
    Last edited by Q; 05-15-2018 at 08:28 PM.

  3. #23
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    "Madam? Would you mind answering a few questiòn?"

    She glanced up with alarm at the officer, then back down at her breakfast.

    "I don't know anythin'," she said. "I just came in for some food and coffee. I'm on my break."

    Please, she begged silently. Please go away. Please leave me be!

    She raised her head enough to glance at his face, and ducked it down again. She should have left. Soon as that madman went racin' out after that other crazy one!
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  4. #24
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    Khawarij began to stride down the alleyway. He continued to stay ahead of Joseph, leading at an almost breakneck pace.

    "This planet is falling apart," Joseph said, "and it's because of people like that pig, him and those bastards on Luna sitting in their ivory towers. They're scum, the whole lot of them."

    Kaji mulled on the statement. It wasn't necessarily false. To some extent, he agreed. But what else was supposed to happen? Whether he liked it or not, some people had more than others, and that got things moving. That made life... interesting. He slowed as he approached a dark spot in the alleyway. "Why were you at the aid building before the incident?" Something was off. Why show up to a clinic armed? he medic loomed over the ganger, his imposing height enhanced by the extra half an inch his boots gave him. Kaji modulated his voice to it's "Cease and Desist" setting, his voice ringing out in a deep, metallic, demonic blast. "What was that pipe really for?"

    The slick steel of the alleyway rang in the rain, the showers crashing down on them like tidal waves.

  5. #25
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    Joseph resisted an urge to make an immediate break for it. This might have been a poor choice of person to tag along with. "It's not what you think. I wasn't going to..." he lowered his head in shame. "I don't have a home. I sleep in cars that aren't mine, alleys and under bridges and, y'know, anywhere I can." He pointed towards a lonely dumpster. Rain plastered the metal flap with loud thuds. "Say, like right behind there. Some people see a skinny-lookin' college kid and think it's an easy target." Straightening out and standing up taller to meet Kaji's stare, he finally elaborates "The pipe is for my own safety. I don't suppose you've ever had to worry about that the way I have to."

    Red and blue LED lights from high above occasionally blink down into the alleyway, reflections bouncing on the puddles formed in the ground.

  6. #26
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    Kaji continued to glower at Joseph. It was a tragic life if the boy really lived it. He remembered all of the impoverished people living in the sand wastes of his home. A destitute life could break anyone.

    One thing still didn’t add up. Kaji lowered the intensity of his voice box in an attempt to neutralise the situation. “Why did you need to go to Paris, Joseph?”

    As he waited for his answer, he realised that he had been way overboard in the last few hours. Between 11 pm last night and whatever time it was now, he had removed and reinserted a mans organs, almost gotten into a gunfight in public, and was now threatening a worthless being. If he kept it up, the Janisarries would find him faster than ever.

  7. #27
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    With a nod, he replied, "My mother's sister." Joseph flipped out the business card he was thumbing over earlier. "Works in Paris at a biomedical corporation. My mom isn't... around anymore, so I wanted to see her." He handed Kaji the card in case he wanted a closer look:

    Amazdu Tsukiko (天津 月子)
    Chief Vaccinologist for Ibutsu Biomedical

    On the back of the card were a phone number and an address written in blue ink. Around the phone number were angrily scribbled question marks.

    "The problem is:" he continued, "I haven't been able to contact her since my mother passed. Her company wouldn't even give me any information, so I decided I'd visit her myself."
    Last edited by MarsShadow; 05-24-2018 at 06:34 PM.

  8. #28
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    Kaji gasped as he read the card. This woman was one of the people who had helped design and install many of his implants. She had been there when his left arm stump had been infected after his new hand had been attached. She was the one who could fix his hand, again. He needed her to be alive.

    “Joseph, I know this woman. She has done more for me than you can imagine,” Kaji said, voice box now normal again. “I will help you find her. For the both of us.”

    He handed the card back to Joseph and nodded. “Come. We have to resolve this before we move forward.”

    He began to turn and continue down the alleyway, right into Cellob’s trap.

  9. #29
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    Avalon strolled down the street with her hands in her pockets, ignoring the panicked crowds around her. She just needed to get to her bike and ride off into the sunrise, preferably far away from any crazy gun-toting doctors or detectives. Maybe then she could finally find a slice of peace and quiet in this city of chaos. She reached the alleyway where she had left her motorcycle, taking a drag of a fresh smoke, but as she turned the corner the cigarette fell from her open mouth. All she saw was some derelict tumbling over, taking with him a stream of unmistakably cobalt-tinged urine that splashed over the just-cleaned wheel guards of Avalon's prized possession. That was all she needed to see.

    "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she roared, pushing up her sleeves and marching towards the offender. He attempted to scramble to his feet, but Avalon grabbed him by the collar and shoved him to his knees. Her eyes were alight with rage but hidden, the reflection of Paris' destruction dancing on her sunglasses. But the junkie didn't need to see her eyes to know her anger, no. The cold steel of her AM-19 Toradan Machine Pistol against his forehead did the trick. He sniveled and moaned, paralyzed with fear. If he hadn't just unloaded on her bike, Avalon mused, he would probably be pissing his pants. But his stammered, incomprehensible apologies went unheard.

    Avalon's finger brushed against the trigger, and she very well would have pulled it if only to vent her frustrations, but the nearby wail of police sirens jolted her out of her rage-induced tunnel vision. Shootings in this neighborhood weren't exactly rare, but she didn't want to take the risk that some rookie gunner with a heart of gold would come charging towards the sounds of gunfire. A warrant out for her arrest would make her day quite a lot worse. And she didn't want the guy's blood to stain her babe even more, now did she?

    She let out a frustrated groan and removed her gun from the cowering man's forehead. For a moment he breathed a tearful sigh of relief until Avalon's heavy boot swung upwards, connecting with the man's face. "That's for my fucking bike," she growled, and her glare shot upwards at the other junkies still gathered around the scene. She didn't have to say anything; only a wave of her pistol was enough to send them scrambling away.

    She now stood alone; only the body of the unconscious junkie and her bike remained in the deserted alleyway. She sighed as she looked upon the man's handiwork on her otherwise-pristine motorbike, grieving for the credits she'd have to spend redoing the paint. After what seemed like ages, though, she was at long last able to go on with her day. She swung a leg over her bike, fastened on her visored helmet, and gripped her hands upon the accelerators. A short delay as the system read her fongerprints, but the bike’s displays soon blinked to life and the engine hummed. "Still purring like a tiger," she remarked with a smile, and finally set off onto the street and away from the bedlam of Greenflower, in search of that famed peace and quiet she'd heard so much about. Little did she know, she was speeding towards the very people she had originally hoped to avoid...
    Last edited by Splat; 06-03-2018 at 08:13 PM.

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  10. #30
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    Auntie Simone furtively glanced up at Pierre, then back to her noodle breakfast. Didn't he say he wanted to ask her questions?

    She picked up her coffee and took a long sip, glancing across the street at the clinic, wondering what was going on here and if something would start again to get this cop's attention away from her. Before he found out she was an ex-con. Before he tried to make some sort of move on her to get her to grass on someone. She didn't know anyone!

    She hoped he wasn't looking to frame someone, those kind of jobs got messy. A lot of sneaking around, gaining their trust, then deciding if it would be better to run for it or knocking them out and dragging their sorry ass to an undercity hole where they could be questioned without worrying about the neighbors calling anybody.

    He looked honest. She'd hate to do that to an honest cop.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

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