Making the turns aren't that hard, just time consuming. This is one of my longer updates (I think), but I mainly have problem with time management.
Hm... Its been a while since Persus posted. Guess he's busy.
Night 5/5[Commercial District]Frogdo had been standing near the huddled group, listening in. Granted, that wasn't entirely hard, they're not the greatest at being stealthy with their conversations.
"Well, if he likes dyin that's his choice."
"Hey now, Lunk means well. This isn't exactly a good spot we're in."
"An' being nice don't change nothing. Going quiet is the best we got, so get going Chin. We all go, he'll suspect something."
"Got'cha Boss."
By then Frogdo had snuck off into the back while Asimov was busy with Forrest, Chin only a few seconds behind him.
Asimov moved towards Forrest, making calming gestures towards the holo. "It's alright, Forrest. You'll see what I mean when we get you docked." His left hand outstretched towards Briefcase, the holo batted the toothed hand away. It snapped at him angrily in return.
"I-I refuse to become like you! Your mad, degraded, and infected!"
"Forrest, calm yourself. This is for your own good, you risk degradation if you don't, and we would be terribly behind the mercantile curve."
Freddie saw now as a good time to cut in, before things progressed.
"Excuse me, but could you tell us more about the new users? I'm afraid I'm also not quite up-to-date on the latest market tendencies, which is hardly optimal if I wish to market myself to users adequately, yes? What are the newest user profiles like? What do they want from their products? Any new input on their general usage behaviors?"
Asimov made a face at Freddie, the two mouths on his face frowning at the interruption. Soon his wheedling smiles smothered the frowns, leaving only smarm. Briefcase seemed thankful for the attention being drawn off of him momentarily.
"Ah, it is truly a pleasure to work with such agreeable stock. You do make a compelling point, it wouldn't do well to have stock not adequately prepared for what is their purpose."
"The users are, remarkably, rather simple with their usage of products. Rarely do they interest themselves with much beyond stock, such as yourselves, but there are some which even the Gentlemen of Leisure's prior function can be of some aid. Terribly uncommon though, certainly not something to base one's presented experience around, not at all."
"Their whims are easily provided for, their interest in stock is either for repurposing or proliferation, to either improve upon themselves, or to produce more users out of the stock. The latter is a rather fascinating process, I've yet to see items sold become future users before. On that note, I do so hope you all consider us for our hospitality when you've been enlightened."
The tainted holo paused, looking behind Freddie. A frown set into his multiple mouths, and with a blink as gone, leaving nothing in his wake.
Frogdo and Chin searched the backrooms for wherever the AI cores might be. They quietly crept to and fro, searching each room they came across. Most were dressing rooms, backrooms that held boxes of hats and suits in storage, even an old office that was in obvious disuse. But nothing that screamed 'AI Housing Here!'
Chin looked around, uneasy. "Two-Eyes, I'm thinking we should hurry up. Think we should check that locked room? It was the only place that was actually locked when we got here, that we found."
The room Chin spoke of was down the hall from them, or rather presumably it was, as it was the only door with metal shelving pushed in front of it. Frogdo noticed that beyond the shelving, at the end of a hall a camera in a corner focused on them, its lens rotating as it trained on the two survivors.
"Pardon me, valuable stock. Are you two perhaps... Lost? Certainly not searching for a rather particular something, hm? That would quite force my hand, you see." His left hand demonstrated such, hissing at the two as it split to bare its teeth.
"One would be a rather poor salesman if they didn't keep eyes throughout the store, no?"
Chin cursed silently at the voice behind the two.
Seeing Asimov's lack of presence, Forrest sprung into action. He looked strained for a moment as he gestured towards one of the cameras that silently stood vigil in the corners. The holo spoke in a frantic whisper, his words barely having a pause between them.
"I-I've set the cameras to-to loop for a bit, he'll probably notice soon. Please, YUsers, you have to help! If we can get Asimov to dock, I think I can shut him down. He's sick, but I think he can be fixed and brought back to his old self. This isn't him, please, he was never like this before."
"Your as much a loon as he is, we should crash his core and be done with it!"
Lunk nodded in agreement to Boss. "Too much trouble, smashing easier."
"We can't just kill him, not when he can be reverted!"
"He sure doesn't mind wanting to kill us, Suit. I ain't gonna stick me an' my friends necks out just fer your sake, specially not for a pile of circuits gone crazy."
Seeing as the enforcer is rather insistent, and the request sounding rather important, Harvey decides to go to the Sergeant. The helmeted enforcer was happy about his decision, although that was gleaned by voice.
"Thanks pal. Sorry to rush you but orders are orders. I've been on shift all day, and really I just can't wait to kick my feet up is all. You must feel the same after being on the surface all day."
The trip to the sergeant's office was uneventful, most already asleep and just leaving just the night owls out and about. People can't tell day or night much in the bunker though with the constant, albeit typically dim, lighting. The clocks stations at various intervals helped though.
Arriving at the door, the two walked inside the small office with the Sergeant himself at the desk, watching the two enter. Four enforcers lined the room, similarly helmeted as Harvey's escort, standing as if statues.
"Mr... Harvey. No last name on record. Bare record as it was, and not the easiest to find either." The Sergent's electronic eyes focused in on the survivor.
"A strange occurrence. Our files run deep, and tabs are kept closely." The grizzled man crossed his hands, his dimly glowing eyes steady on Harvey. "Normally... I'd pull you into custody for suspicion. A spy. A stowaway. An anonymous. Maybe you paid someone to make you disappear. Maybe someone did it to cast suspicion. There are many reasons for this... Oddity. Few are innocent."
The enforcer placed his hands on his desk and pushed himself up into a straighter position, sighing. "But times aren't normal, and you volunteered when few would. Whatever reason, you're trapped here in this pit like the rest of us. A pity Mr. Allworthy couldn't be here, but I've been informed of his injuries. That's what I called you in here for, I've been informed you've dealt with a plagued individual first hand and won."
"You'd know what to expect, how to react, signs, and ways of fighting them better than anyone who's talked to me thus far. Recount the experience, say what you know. Be detailed."
]Randall got right to work. He looked around to make sure no one was watching before making his move, heading towards the alleyway that was shared by two of the restaurants. From this distance, he could hear the people inside. Happily chatting to themselves as they ate, occasionally the distant murmur of voices being drowned out by someone laughing at something or another. The distant hum of vehicles filled the air and several pedestrians roamed the streets, but none paid attention to the destitute street rat.
The alley was dark, the buildings heavy shadow making all the differences as it blocked the rendered sky. Some doors lined the walls of the two buildings, leading inside the eateries and various other facilities. The prize though, the rusted metal chests containing that which Randall seeks. He pried open one of them and was presented with an odd sight.
Inside was the typical filth and refuse, but on it all was a white box, atop the box a clean plate containing on it an untouched meal. Besides the plate were cutlery and a cloth napkin. Across the strange find sat a note. It read "A gift to those without." The peculiarities don't stop there though, Randall hears something coming from inside the dumpster, a sort of faint noise that's hard to work out. Music? Voices? It sounds muffled, wherever its coming from inside of rusted container.
Marion made her way into the kitchen, thinking about food. Should she make bacon and eggs, cereal, toast with butter and jam... All of the above? Order something? As distracting as food is though, her thoughts kept drifting to the message. Its pretty early in the morning, how long did that message sit there? Who sent it? Doesn't hurt to check, not like it'll take long.
She plodded her way back into her room and snagged the phone. The visual message--or vis-mail, as her daughter calls it--came during the night, or early morning to be more exact, at 3:24. The caller wasn't listed though, no name shown. Usually it would show something though, either 'blocked,' 'unlisted,' or 'unknown,' but there was just a blank spot where the name should be. The number looked normal though.
The detective clicked 'play,' and held the phone in front of her as she watched fibers of light play off her phone, forming an image. There was a blank, black splotch where the phone was suppose to display what was reordered, moving and edging as if some blob testing its limits. A soft static came from the phone, the sounds of a machine communicating to other machines, but to a human nothing discernible but tones and crackling static.
The static played on, the black splotch formed by her phone 'dancing' to each audible spark and cackle. This went on for the length of the message, about half a minute, before disappearing and her phone informing her 'end of message.'
Well, at least the message wasn't long, and the morning is still in front of her.
************
Name: Freddie Firenzo
Gender: Male
Attribute: Inspiration (1)
Short Description: a somewhat small man, balding, wears glasses and possesses a pencil mustache. Covers up encroaching baldness with a clearly stolen trilby and hides rather unimposing physique behind a somewhat oversized pastel blue tuxedo.
Short Biography: despite the rather dire nature of the situation, Freddie is quite glad, all in all, that whatever happened happened. He was in the middle of contemplating suicide when the sirens came, trying to decide upon a good method to carry out a deed. However, evacuation put a stop to that kind of thinking, and Freddie rather appreciates the circumstances due to this. Why, he could make off with an entire tuxedo and hat in the chaos, and nobody noticed. For him, this whole apocalypse thing is kind of a definite improvement, really. Certainly an opportunity to reinvent himself, find some sort of track to get his life onto at last.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
Metal Club,
Metal Spike,
Cracked Headlight,
7 Dual-Torches,
Oil Canister,
Lighter,
Credit Unions,
2 Rations,
Memory Stick
Name: Frogdo Badtirigidon
Gender: Male
Attribute: IRONMAN (0)
Short Description: He's a short dude with curly brown hair, spiky stubble, and heterochromatic eyes - blue and brown.
Short Bio: Maaaaaan, he was a dude who came from the streets, maaaaan, and he was angry and resentful and stuff, maaaaan. He's a survivor because he, like, KNOWS da streetz, maaaaan.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
Metal Club Name: Randall Steward
Gender: Male
Attribute: Intimidation (0)
Short Description: a short and filthy dark-haired individual. His back is always slightly bended fowards, which gives him the impression of being a hunchback. Actually, he stays like that to remain unseen.
Short Biography: Randall's parents abandoned him when he was but a a kid. He survived in the streets pretty much as a rat, stealing food and hiding. Treated by everybody as scum, he never found a way to integrate into society and kept living with low standards.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
2 Knives,
Rubber Glove,
5 Rations,
Meat Clever Name: Inspector Marion Dupont
Gender: Female
Short Bio/Description: A tall, commanding woman, previously an investigator in Ship Enforcement. After the warning sirens she moved in an orderly fashion to the nearest bunker. Her goals are: A. Find out if her daughter is safe. B. Get to the bottom of what's going on.
Attribute: Hammerer (1)
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
2 Rations,
Lighter,
Handcuffs,
Family Photo,
Sharp Machete,
Metal Club,
Heavy Work Gloves,
Sledge,
Duct Tape,
Small Prybar,
Box of Nails Name: Harvey
Gender: Male
Attribute: Hammerer (0)
Description: Fairly tall with a lean but muscled body, long black hair and bright blue eyes.
Background: Winging it.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
2 Knives,
Recorder,
Revolver,
2 Speed Loaders,
Rifle Scope,
Rifle Mag,
2 Rifle Rounds,
Ration,
Credit Unions,
Car Parts,
Small Fab Cube Name: Samuel Allworthy
Gender: Male
Attribute: Inspiration (0)
Short Description: A tall formally dressed man with a conductor's baton
Short Biography: An orchestra conductor who managed to get to the shelter on the way to a concert.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
2 Knives Wounds: Busted Right Arm
Poll
0 (0%)
Author
Topic: Survival At Its Finest: Waking Up From Sleep Mode (Q&A) (Read 61369 times)