All That Remains

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All That Remains (Interest Check & Plot Details)

All That Remains (Sign-up & OOC)

STARRING

William 'Buck' Foster & Anastasia 'Ana' Hammond ( Anubis )

Paisley James Brenwick ( @natterjack )

Bliss Jackson, Victor Silva, & Leila Dove ( @The Red Tazelwurm )

Johnathan Wiles ( @Merc )

Rose Merrieweather ( @The Creator )

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December 2nd, 2274
Oppekt Biodome
12:07 A.M.


Midnight. What you and I know of time has no relevance here. Where there should be darkness, this mockery of a 'city' is bursting with light and life at all hours. Black smog overhead chokes out any view of the stars, punctured only by towering monuments to the sin of humanity, the skyscrapers of the rich and a symbol of oppression to the poor.

Neon billboards hum in unison as they pierce the shadows that should be on every wall, every street corner. They hawk the wares of their creators, prophesying the next big thing: Soft drinks, fast food, medicine, the list goes on while somewhere, a sickly mother hacks out her last unclean breath, leaving behind hungry little mouths.

What's one measly life to the profit these mega corporations turn, turning like the cogs inside a war machine on humanity?

Nothing.

Anastasia pulls her eyes away from the misery below, concealing it by pulling closed the heavy curtains of President Brenwick's office window. Turning on her heel, she steps quickly to his desk with a small holographic datapad clutched inside her delicate hand.

She sets it on said desk before him, tapping through menus until a report is drawn up, outlining statistical data regarding Oppekt co. and its assets.

"Here is the data you requested, sir. As you can see here," She'd lean in, pointing at something particular on the hologram that had cropped up in Brenwick's face. "There have been more terrorist attacks just in the last week alone. Two factories have been completely leveled, and another temporarily disabled. This has set production back by 32.8%"
If she had emotion, it would be appropriate to say that she 'despised' being the bearer of bad news. But it was just her programming punishing her, despite having no affiliation with what would prove even slightly detrimental to Brenwick. She anticipated the response, likely a sigh and a frown. Then again he could just as easily explode. Humans were unpredictable like that.

Not like a Replicant.

Meanwhile, somewhere far below in the streets, those responsible for the attacks were celebrating in their own way, Buck among them. They were holed up in a friendly dive bar, staying out of the neon light where Oppekt's militia were probably taking out their aggressions on the less fortunate in response to the terrorist attacks.

That was Oppekt's modus operandi, at least it was before Brenwick had taken over, who had as of yet not changed the policy when dealing with rebellions: React accordingly. Scare tactics. Punish the weak and helpless, demoralize them into stopping.

Buck had long ago come to accept this harsh truth, that many others would suffer for the actions of a brave few. But he had no intentions of stopping, not until the foundations of this corruption were in rubble around he and the others' ankles, and those in positions of power were cast down.

Until then, the replicant washed his worries away in synthehol, a piss-poor excuse for alcohol that has been synthesized for mass production. It tasted bad, it stunk, but it was about the only thing a man or woman had to drown in down here where the air was sulfur and the blood of innocents flowed like a river.
 
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"But that's horrible!" Bliss yelled at her mother from across the dinner table. For the fifth time that week, her mother had brought up the subject of her dating her way up the food chain. Gaining attention from one rich guy, before moving on to the next richer guy. Bliss hated her mother's gold digger mentality. Even now when they had everything that they wanted and her mom no longer had to work on the streets like a whore, fluttering her eye lids at rich old guys and showing them a bit of skin, she was still intent on getting to the top. "Look, I'm not you mom! I have everything I want and if I don't I can just ask dad!" The teenager snapped.
Her mom laughed, a cold hollow sound. Her dark brown eyes narrowed and her gaze locked on her daughter. "There's nothing wrong with having power, Bliss. Victor won't be looking out for us forever, and when he turns his back, which he will. We need to be prepared. Now, why don't you head to bed. I heard that nice young man from 6th and 3rd place is going to some kind of outing tomorrow. You need to get up early enough to intercept him, so he can invite you along. I heard he's best friends with a foreman's son."
Bliss ground her teeth together, but knew arguing would be useless, so she just got up and stormed up to her room. She considered making contact with her father, and asking him to talk some sense into her mother, but she didn't want to interrupt him if he was in a meeting.

- -

Victor Silver was in his office looking through various design concepts from his employees and from that 'Youthful Voices' that he had set up last week. He regretted not judging the stupid contest himself, because the winners' ideas were absolute shit. "A prosthetic limb that shoots out lasers whenever danger is near." He read from the second place winners' portfolio. He scoffed and tossed the folder to the side, and ran his hands through his hair. "What a waste of my time and energy." What annoyed him the most was that he was going to have give those little pukes, prize money and scholarships, for idiotic concepts that would cause more harm than good!
"Tomorrow I am going to fire the idiot who came up with that contest idea in the first place!" He snarled, forgetting that he had in fact come up with it himself.
He then turned to even more stressful news. The terrorist attacks on the factories. They weren't his factories of course, no in fact they weren't even near his, but the thought of one of them being destroyed, enraged and worried him. Production rates would decrease immensely if they go to his factories! He needed to come up with a back up plan. Something that would keep his company a float even if one of his factories was destroyed.

- -

Leila, sat in the back of the dive bar, nursing an extremely watered down glass of whisky. She had tried her hardest to seem older than she was so she could at least get a taste of actual alcohol, but the bartender had seen right through her and had instead given her a tall glass of water and literally five drops of whisky. She had scowled at him, but hadn't argued, she didn't want to get kicked out after all. So she had returned to her seat, extending her legs and tried to work out the cramps she had gotten from running all over the lower half of the dome all day. For some horrible reason, everyone and their mother had decided to send out messages constantly! She had actually spent thirty minutes dashing from one sisters' house to another, because they were too lazy to just cross the street! "Well at least I got paid..." She muttered as she watcher her fellow rebels celebrating. She didn't join them in their cheer, as it would have felt out of place. She hadn't actually done anything to cheer about or help the cause. Sure a few rebels had given her messages to send to others, but that wasn't that big of a deal. Her measly actions weren't even close to that of Buck. She stared wistfully at the man, wishing she had skills other than running really fast and climbing up structures like some kind of sewer monkey.
 
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"There have been more terrorist attacks just in the last week alone. Two factories have been completely leveled, and another temporarily disabled. This has set production back by 32.8%."

Lighting upon the digital report, dark oculars narrowed into slits, slender fingers curving to etch invisible furrows in the desk's polished mahogany. Given the recent history of similiar .. ah, setbacks, the news was rather devastating – but all outer appearances claimed that the President was naught more than irked. He spared the report only the briefest of glances before returning his attention to the game of solitaire occuring on a tablet [that] he balanced carefully on his lap.

"How .. annoying," he murmured. The rumble of his mezzosophrano was more to himself than anything, as with a slender digit he mated a trio of cards together. "Tell me, Annie. How did my father ever handle such .. unfortunate events?" The question was posed neutrally .. although if one were to listen closely, they would surely recognize the disdain of an overlooked son, the baby of a family who nursed the savage enjoyment of proving one's predecessor horribly, horribly wrong.

To look at him now, it might've been difficult to believe, but it was true—painfully so—that once upon a terrible time, Paisley had been that son. The youngest of four, he had always been perceived as the baby, the least entitled to duty and the least capable of doing anything that could possibly make his parents proud .. his father, that was. His mother, the most fragile of things, had always been doting and sincere.

And then, a few summers ago, his brothers had suffered a terrible, terrible .. mm, accident. Remembering the occasion, a smile suddenly curved the young man's scarred lips. Terrible, indeed.
 
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"I said no. Now go on, fuck off."Johnathan gave the floozy a rough shove. Crap alcohol, cheap cigarettes, and whores begging for a few bucks. Some celebration this had turned out to be. Recently they had taken out one of the many factories, and there was already talk of another operation. Great, another day dodging bullets. Downing the rest of his beer in a quick swig, the rebel decided it was time for him to call it a night. His company wouldn't be missed anyway. "See ya, Morty. I'm gonna head home." Johnathan said as he placed a few bills on the table. The bartender gave a half sincere wave.

The atmosphere changed rather quickly once he stepped outside. Happy drunks were replaced by shifty characters in alleys, and private militia patrolled the streets with high powered rifles. "From one shithole straight into another." Johnathan complained. His house was only a few blocks down the street, but the walk there felt much longer because of the patrol staring him down.

"Hey!" One of the soldiers shouted. Johnathan stopped without turning around. Home was just past the next apartment. "Yeah you! Turn around." After letting out a deep sigh, he did as he was told. This was not how he wanted to spend the night. Instinctively he reached for his sidearm. Shit. It wasn't there. He forgot that he had left it home. Getting caught with a weapon of any kind was reason enough for a death sentence. "Kind of late for stroll, isn't it?" The soldier spoke through an underbite.

"Just thought I'd enjoy the stars." He joked. Laughter was usually a good get of jail free card.

"Oh yeah?" Owning up to the bad reputation that soldiers have, the man pushed Johnathan to the ground. With the barrel of his rifle sticking in Johnathan's mouth he asked, "How's the view now, funny guy?" There was a soft click as the man switched the safety off. The rebel tried reply but his response was muffled by the rifle. The soldier gave a wheezy laugh but made no move, but made no move to remove the rifle. "Lets just sit here for a minute, and 'enjoy the stars'."
 
Rose was finally ready to face her new job possibility. She slowly turned about to make sure that she was perfectly dressed. Her grey suit was impeccable as was her silk blue blouse. Small blue rose earings and a matching pendant necklace which hung at the base of her neck. Light grey silk stockings- her last pair and dark grey 4 inch high heels. Her hand bag was a dark grey. Her breifcase was dark grey as well. Make was very subdued and put on perfectly.

Rose picked up Roses in the Rain perfume and gave herself a nice spray before leaving her bedroom. SHe went to the kitchen and checked her breifcase. She had everything ready to hand out and her address that she needed to arrived at. She left and headed downstairs to grab a cab. The Cab quickly took her to her destination and she winced at the price of the ride. Hopefully, it will be well worth the time and money.

Rose got out and walked into the building where she paused to double check the address. She wasn't paying too much attention to anyone due to her nerousness but she was off to one side of the hall.
 
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