Dan woke up, hearing a loud noise from above. He immediately realized he should leave soon. So he made his way to the door out, he cracked it open, looking left and right to see if there was anything notable outside.
He decided he wanted to check out that window, that might be a better place than where he was now, or it might hold something of value. All he needed was his own little hideout for this area, everybody like him should.
I nod my understanding while dropping my identity token into the breast pocket of my overalls and collecting the small pile of tokens, which have been slid under the window, in my fist I head in the direction I've been directed. The mechanical obedience is instinctive, but my thoughts are in turmoil. Where is this place? Why haven't I heard of it before? What does he mean by 'bad'? Halfway to the door I'm struck by a horrible idea and involuntarily freeze. I'm being sent offworld. I'm being sent offworld! After all these years and I'm going to die on a strange planet or asteroid far away from everything I've ever known! In the corner of my mind, someone starts wailing. Wait -didn't he say 'train'? I look at the tokens inside my hand. The tokens are small discs of the black alien metal with symbols embossed on one side. Stirring the pile with my finger I shuffle the food ration tokens around until I find the travel token. I feel some of the tension ease from my shoulders, it's the familiar train travel token not for a transport ship. 'When you hear hoof-beats, think horse not zebra' I admonish myself. Passing down a short corridor, I pause under the archway of the train-transit station to transfer the tokens to the dufflebag on my shoulder.
Opening the pack I see....
Halbert- You see some folded up clothes, a small box of tokens, a canteen full of water and a small, square metal box for eating food out of with a knife and fork. There are a few water bottles and a few vacuum packed meals with them. You put the tokens in the box and walk forwards into the train station, slightly nervous. There on the tracks lie a Union turbo train, a sleek train built out of Union metals. It is around 100 metres long, with seats in every compartment except for the first two, which house engine and driver, and the second carriage always holds a platoon of Union soldiers, often transferring supplies as well. On the station, there are around 50 other people, crowding around forming groups and talking nervously. The trainsstation is in the old earth style, presumably to give some comfort. It is all very false, the brick walls hide alien alloys reinforcing them. Propaganda posters take up most of the wall space, and a large screen hangs from the ceiling.
Dan Streger- You open the door slowly, carefully. It is morning, but here it is still slightly dark. You see no one in the dusty alleyway, so you leave. You survey the dumpster next to the window, and climb it. It squeaks audibly and you decide you chose wisely last night as the would've alerted nearby Union members. You steady yourself atop the dumpster, almost losing balance and take a look inside the window. Within you see a derelict room. There is one door on the far side to you, but it has been boarded up completely. Nobody has been in there for a few months at least. There is a metal shelf with a few wooden crates in it on the right wall, on the left there is a wooden bench. You can't see what is directly below the Window, but you see a darkened shape as there is little light coming into the room. Taking a closer look, you see in the centre of the room there is a small hole. It looks like it used to be a vent maybe, but has since been damaged and abandoned. You examine the window, it has a latch on the inside, you think you could either force it or prise it open.
I walk along the length of the station absorbing the scene. At the barrier I hand over the travel token and am allowed to pass through onto the platform. No words are exchanged. I'm full of questions but prudent people don't draw attention to themselves by asking questions. Most questions get answered if you wait long enough.
I walk along the train, eying the other people on the platform. Like myself, most of them are wearing grey overalls with two blue stripes on the left shoulder, identifying their occupation in construction. Most of them seem to be in their mid twenties to thirties and none of them make eye contact with me.
At the second last compartment, I enter the train and take a window seat on the far side of the platform facing forward. On the wall in front of me are two of the posters. One shows a attractive, beaming young female holding a child on each hip with the large words 'Contentment'. The second poster shows an alien and a human lifting a rock into a mine-cart together with the caption 'Help the Union that helps you.'
I wait.
OUT OF ROLEPLAY
I'm gonna try and make it so everyone gets one post each before we move on. So for example, broicious must post and I respond then I'll respond to the next round, if that makes sense? If anyone is absent for whatever reason, this rule will be changed. It's just so everyone stays at the same pace.
Thanks.
District SW7 -r119-028, development
The vibration kicks in and almost on autopilot my eyes open, slightly startled at the surroundings my mind quickly recalling the events of last night. The morning has come far too quickly.
Using the last of my water I try to refreshen up a little, making a mental note to organise a few personal hygiene items. I stand stretch and once dressed in my suit I reorganise the room to a little more of a disorganised state, not yet ready to have it organised until it is secured. 'hmm, so how you going to do that Carl' i ask myself as i move out of the plant room, pulling the door closed behind me and slowly moving down the corridor up the stairs and to the front door.
Pausing to listen to the sounds of a new day my stomach rumbles and I hope there will be something to eat at the new site accommodation. I look out of the crack between the main entrance doors and as the street appears to be clear I slip out of the room and walk down the steps and turn east along the road before turning left and heading north up to Hyde Park. As I walk I try to study the eastern elevation of the Natural History Museum building, looking for secondary access points.
Carl Michelson- You leave into the streets, the road cracked and misshapen, having experienced heat bombardment from orbit in the invasion. There a few buildings still standing around here, most just piles of rubble as this area has yet to be built on. Looking at the museum, you see no obvious access points though in the dreary light of morning it us hard to tell. The Windows have all been boarded up, and there are no doors visible. A few sections have collapsed, but they have melted into a thick,concrete like substance sealing themselves nicely. The roof, from what you can see down here, looks fairly patchy but difficult to get to. There are a half dozen dead trees surrounding the museum, essentially turned to large sticks of charcoal. You carry on.
After a moment of thought Dan decides to attempt to pry the window latch open, if it doesn't work he will force it, trying to be as quiet as he can.
It was very hard to balance on the dumpster lid, Dan was afraid that he would fall off, making a lot of noise, and thus attracting unwanted attention which would get him killed. He kept looking around, he swore he saw shadows, but that might be just a trick of the light or he's just being paranoid, either way, he needed to get inside the room soon.
Halbert- Sitting down, an alarm blares one, long tone. Everybody on the platform quickly files into carriages, which fill up quickly. A man sits opposite you but keeps his head looking down, avoiding eye contact. A second alarm blares loudly and the train shunts toward and slowly speeds up. The train leaves the sheltered station onto a magnetic rail system, either side are tall buildings, the rails fenced off. Looking out further you see you are heading south, fast. An intercom sounds throughout the train. A human voice crackles out "Hello. We are heading towards a old, traditional sector. You are all being rehoused. Congratulations." The voice is far too optimistic. The man looks up, revealing you a young face with light stubble, he looks tired, as all seem to. "Well that's great eh? What do you think, old timer?" He asks you.
Dan- You start prying the window open, and it gives quickly without much force. The latch simply snaps off, clattering to the floor in the room. This makes you jump and you have to grab the inside of the window to stop yourself slipping off the dumpsters' lid. Giving one more glance around the alleyway, you open the window. Inside, directly below the window is a large wooden box that would make a good stepping stone to get into the room. Suddenly an klaxon shreeks, the sound calls workers to the factories. You must hurry up.
OUT OF CHARACTEr
Hellooooo where'd everyone gooooooo
OOC: Waiting for Ekko_ to post I think.
At first I feel a flash of irritation -how can I think something when I don't have enough information to conduct a rational analysis? -but when I look in his face I see something unusual. Many people have a defeated tiredness about them; this man has a sort of serious tiredness, like someone who thinks a lot and is troubled by what he sees. Most people don't do that, they work so that they can eat and they eat so they can work again the next day and care little for things that have no immediate consequence on their own situations. Probably the question is more significant to him than the idle chatter it might appear to be.
"It's just the way things are." I shrug "It's like with construction, you do the best job you can with whatever materials you're given."
After a short pause, I sigh. "It might not have to be like this if it wasn't for those uhh .... the troublemakers stirring things up of late." I choose my words carefully, it's not unheard of for people to denounce others and it's very easy to misinterpret what someone's said when it means an extra food token for turning them in.
He looks out the window. "Things will be better when they're gone.", he says quietly. From the look on his face, I suspect his troublemakers are different from the ones I was thinking about.
We're passing through the District boundary now. Each District is enclosed by heavy wire fencing or brick walls and nobody is allowed to enter or leave without an appropriate travel permit. On an observation tower near the boundary two humans in full-length mottled grey coats are watching the approaching train, rifles propped in front of them pointing at the train. Sometimes people try to ride the outside of the train to sneak out.
I flick my chin towards the two collaborates, "We'll be better with them?"
"It'll be better." he insists, "It has to be."
"If you care about a future, why don't you work with them?" I probe, "A number of different aliens are in the Union, if you cooperate maybe in a few generations your children might be accepted into the Union too."
He snorts. I can't tell if it's anger or scorn but for the rest of the trip, though we make occasional small talk sharing stories about places we've worked and things we've seen, he doesn't bring up the topic again.
Near the end of the journey the train enters a dirty-orange brick tunnel, the roof of the tunnel is sheet steel and in some places I catch glimpses of the sky through rusted out holes. A few minutes more and the train deposits us in another Transit Station. As I stand on the station stamping my feet to work the stiffness out of my knees and get the blood flowing again, I see a group of young children weaving through the crowd trying to hand out leaflets. I catch a glimpse of one, they seem to be instructions to work hard, have children, keep the peace, report loafers and saboteurs, abide by the curfews, etc. Probably handing out these leaflets is part of their indoctrination, more for their benefit than for ours.
I follow the shuffling crowd down a corridor into an identical-looking District Administration Center. Judging by the amount of people from the station, several other trains have brought people in this morning. For the second time today I find myself
queuing in front of the slotted windows till it's my turn to slide my identity token onto the reader table.
(OOC: My apologies, I was unavailable for a few days. Though to be fair the other two haven't posted yet either. :p)
Halbert- The process is almost identical to leaving your previous residence. You drop the token, the screen displays your status as the tired man ushers you away from the other side of the screen. Before he does however, he says "Welcome to the sector. This is an industrial habitation and working bloc, previously called 'Crawely'. Enjoy your stay" He clearly does not mean it, and within 1 minute is giving the same drab welcome. You are quickly moved out the station by the large crowd, emerging into a large plaza area. It is flanked on all sides towering, monolithic apartments of harsh concrete. Several population pacification officers stand among the crowds. They are humans, but fed good hot food and kept in much better conditions than other citizens. They are clothed in suits of dark blue armour, similar to soldiers. They carry extendable stun sticks and crowd-control weapons such as tear gas and stun shotguns which can be transformed into pulse shotguns to kill the dirupters. They wear lighter blue caps with 'PPO' on the front in gold writing.
OOC- Recently it's become clear o me the current model f posting cannot be sustained for a long and consistent roleplay, therefore post whenever you can and however much you want. I will keep in contact with all of you to ensure that if someone is lagging behind there is a plan in place. Now, let's get the roleplay moving again!
Thanks, David.
OOC: :D
Dan carefully steps in, listening for noise outside and looking around the room. When he is in he makes an attempt on silently closing the window, as to make sure nobody gets suspicious, getting caught with a gun would be the end of him. After he closes the window(silently or not), he takes a longer look around the room, getting a look at what it has. Or if it's empty.
Dan- There is no one inside. The window shunts shut with little noise, but the klaxon makes sneaking much easier. The room is what you saw through the window, various containers the the right and a bench on the l leftThe hole in the centre requires light and on closer inspection appears to be vent of some kind, leading who knows where. The door is shut and barricaded with rotting wooden boards.
Jhon'Del Marr was beginning to grow tired of this. When word had first begun to trickle through the ranks, first through the Watchers, and then into their human compatriots, that there were small pockets of rebellion beginning to spring up in the her squad's quadrant of KAPPA, she had actually been pleased. It had been so long since the war, so long since her squad had been faced with actual battle that she could see them growing more lax by the day. These small skirmishes kept the men fighting fit and on the alert.
But this was simply too much. Now they were causing disturbances within zones that hadn't seen combat since the war. She and her squad had been systematically searching through buildings for the last fourteen hours without so much as a vagrant to show for their troubles, in fog so thick she'd been forced to stay in thermal vision almost the entire time.
Bending her long neck, she adjusted her headset, the only field equipment she carried on patrols, and cracked the knuckles of her small, primary hand.
As her squad finished the search of another building, she walked to the building across from it, scanning it with her thermal vision, hoping that, perhaps this would be the payoff of their search
OOC: Oh dear, we have a player working for the Union! :O
Dan walks over to the containers, he then starts o search through them. Still staying as quiet as he could, even with the Klaxon going off he still feeled like he needed to be quiet.