BLARGistania
24-02-2004, 01:45
Spike sat in the crowded confines of a small roadside café, reading the local faces and while calmly sipping at a cup of coffee. Old, young, middle-aged. The people were all there, going about their daily business, not a care in the world, no idea what was happening outside of their personal spheres. Spike put his cup down and got up. He tossed down a few coins to cover his drink, picked up the paper and walked out the door. As he stepped outside, he paused to light a cigarette, then, continued on. The city had an eternally dreary feel to it, one coated by clouds and crushed dreams. It was the kind of city where only the strong survived, it was the kind of city where life meant nothing and everything was for sale. Spike wandered past back alleys of dealers, shops of expensive imagination enhancers, and side corner bean sellers. None of it he wanted, none of the people he cared for. The cigarette slowly burned down its length. Cars whizzed past, throwing up puddles of leftover water from the last night’s rain. Stray dogs barked at the random passerby then retreated into their holes, going back to chewing last week’s bones.
The city had a beat and a pulse of its own, everyone had their place, no one knew it, and even fewer people knew where the power of the system lay. Oh, the government was in place of course, but the government was ineffectual, irrelevant. The true power lay in the underworld, a system of gangs, organized crime syndicates, and the vast networks of drug dealers and party people. They were the blood veins of the city, the beat and the pulse. They controlled the government, the puffed-up bureaucrats, the pretentious assholes, the conceited minor dignitaries. All of them. They were all under the control of the vast system of the underworld, a world in which the meek were trampled and the savage were honored.
Spike glanced down a side alley as he passed by. Drug dealer dealing some poor addict a new drug. Would probably kill the kid, Spike thought, too bad. The cigarette burned down its filter and Spike let it drop, crushing it as he walked past. He pulled the jacket up further around his neck, partly to ward off the cold, partly to conceal what he was doing. He quickly liked the tap system into his ear and set the hip piece to record. In a few short minutes, a meeting was supposed to take place between a high-level dealer and a bounty-head. Spike really didn’t care about the dealer, he could live or die and it wouldn’t matter. What Spike wanted to know was where the bounty was going. A minor hit, but nonetheless, it was a hit that could be made. And any hit at all brought the prospect of meat closer to the table. Spike turned his mind away from that thought, as much as he liked a steak, he needed to focus on the conversation that transpired. Spike turned into another local shop, a small market, and pretended to browse assorted items as he listened to the meeting taking place.
“Hey, you got the drop for me?”
“Yeah, its in lot 43 over in the warehouse district, south section of the city. Be careful with it, its very fragile and highly dangerous.”
“You mean you haven’t tested this stuff yet?”
“No, it’s been tested; just one out of every five will die using it, but before they die it’ll give them the high of their life.”
“But why are you killing so many of them?”
“Think, the market demand will be huge when they find out what this stuff does. The deaths will create a media attention, drawing all the snotty upper class kids to the drug. It’s like candy, when they find something new they must have it. If we can pull this, half the city’ll be hooked, think of the market.”
“Aight, just how does this stuff work?”
“It’s like a strong neuro stimulant. The drug rushes into the brain and speeds up his activity, turns the brain into something like a hyper processor. Unfortunately, a good chunk of people don’t have the ability to handle the drug, those are the ones that will die. For everyone else though, they become hyper-sensitive and elated. It’s like a super endorphin.”
“Sounds like something I don’t want to touch, lot 43, warehouse district, south side. Got it.”
“This place has the best seared pork I’ve ever had, you should try it.”
“Sure, oh, hi, yes, I think I’d like to try the seared pork. . . .”
Spike let the remote drop as he left the store. His bounty was heading down to the warehouse district on the south side of the city, that was all that spike needed to know. He ambled out of the shop and caught a train. There were still a few hours to burn before his hit, so he decided to scope the area out before hand, see what was going down. The train shook along the tracks, rumbling through the city. A high whistle went out, screeching into the early evening, a voice crying out for mercy in the city that showed none.
The warehouse was dirty, but then again, the section of town wasn’t that great either. Rusted catwalks creaked overhead and puddles of stagnated water littered the ground between dilapidated buildings. Spike stepped around these puddles, looking for lot 43. He found it, it was a small, back alley lot with a rusted door and a picture of need superimposed over a V. Great, Spike thought, rusted door, and it’s tagged by some idiot. He ambled around the place, checking it out, but apparently the door was the only way in. Spike sighed, and then noticed something lying on the ground. It was a small needle, filled with some green fluid. Spike palmed it and placed it inside of his jacket. He walked off to find a place to sit and watch his prey, and maybe catch a nap.
OOC: This is kinda an experiment, I want to see how it goes. This is an RP for a single character or a very small group, not huge armies or massive forces. I'd like to see if this idea works or not. Anyway, if you want to join in, the RP is open, spamming will not be appreciaited, and please, be descriptive with your posts. I've only presented the setting, my character and two others, add in as you please.
The city had a beat and a pulse of its own, everyone had their place, no one knew it, and even fewer people knew where the power of the system lay. Oh, the government was in place of course, but the government was ineffectual, irrelevant. The true power lay in the underworld, a system of gangs, organized crime syndicates, and the vast networks of drug dealers and party people. They were the blood veins of the city, the beat and the pulse. They controlled the government, the puffed-up bureaucrats, the pretentious assholes, the conceited minor dignitaries. All of them. They were all under the control of the vast system of the underworld, a world in which the meek were trampled and the savage were honored.
Spike glanced down a side alley as he passed by. Drug dealer dealing some poor addict a new drug. Would probably kill the kid, Spike thought, too bad. The cigarette burned down its filter and Spike let it drop, crushing it as he walked past. He pulled the jacket up further around his neck, partly to ward off the cold, partly to conceal what he was doing. He quickly liked the tap system into his ear and set the hip piece to record. In a few short minutes, a meeting was supposed to take place between a high-level dealer and a bounty-head. Spike really didn’t care about the dealer, he could live or die and it wouldn’t matter. What Spike wanted to know was where the bounty was going. A minor hit, but nonetheless, it was a hit that could be made. And any hit at all brought the prospect of meat closer to the table. Spike turned his mind away from that thought, as much as he liked a steak, he needed to focus on the conversation that transpired. Spike turned into another local shop, a small market, and pretended to browse assorted items as he listened to the meeting taking place.
“Hey, you got the drop for me?”
“Yeah, its in lot 43 over in the warehouse district, south section of the city. Be careful with it, its very fragile and highly dangerous.”
“You mean you haven’t tested this stuff yet?”
“No, it’s been tested; just one out of every five will die using it, but before they die it’ll give them the high of their life.”
“But why are you killing so many of them?”
“Think, the market demand will be huge when they find out what this stuff does. The deaths will create a media attention, drawing all the snotty upper class kids to the drug. It’s like candy, when they find something new they must have it. If we can pull this, half the city’ll be hooked, think of the market.”
“Aight, just how does this stuff work?”
“It’s like a strong neuro stimulant. The drug rushes into the brain and speeds up his activity, turns the brain into something like a hyper processor. Unfortunately, a good chunk of people don’t have the ability to handle the drug, those are the ones that will die. For everyone else though, they become hyper-sensitive and elated. It’s like a super endorphin.”
“Sounds like something I don’t want to touch, lot 43, warehouse district, south side. Got it.”
“This place has the best seared pork I’ve ever had, you should try it.”
“Sure, oh, hi, yes, I think I’d like to try the seared pork. . . .”
Spike let the remote drop as he left the store. His bounty was heading down to the warehouse district on the south side of the city, that was all that spike needed to know. He ambled out of the shop and caught a train. There were still a few hours to burn before his hit, so he decided to scope the area out before hand, see what was going down. The train shook along the tracks, rumbling through the city. A high whistle went out, screeching into the early evening, a voice crying out for mercy in the city that showed none.
The warehouse was dirty, but then again, the section of town wasn’t that great either. Rusted catwalks creaked overhead and puddles of stagnated water littered the ground between dilapidated buildings. Spike stepped around these puddles, looking for lot 43. He found it, it was a small, back alley lot with a rusted door and a picture of need superimposed over a V. Great, Spike thought, rusted door, and it’s tagged by some idiot. He ambled around the place, checking it out, but apparently the door was the only way in. Spike sighed, and then noticed something lying on the ground. It was a small needle, filled with some green fluid. Spike palmed it and placed it inside of his jacket. He walked off to find a place to sit and watch his prey, and maybe catch a nap.
OOC: This is kinda an experiment, I want to see how it goes. This is an RP for a single character or a very small group, not huge armies or massive forces. I'd like to see if this idea works or not. Anyway, if you want to join in, the RP is open, spamming will not be appreciaited, and please, be descriptive with your posts. I've only presented the setting, my character and two others, add in as you please.