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Plantae 2080

Indigo Steel

Planetoid
Joined
Feb 3, 2015
As usual, the streets of Safe Zone 12 bustled with people and machines. The Trade Market, as usual, was particularly crowded with people buying and selling various wares while androids decried advertisement and robots aided with stock work. Patrols of the Paramilitia moved through the crowds, flanked by military androids and mobile weapon robots. A few general laborers could be seen in the distance; patching and reinforcing the Perimeter Wall alongside construction robots large and small.

Felix Tanner made his way towards one shop in particular that was doing well for itself; well enough to have an actual brick and mortar shop instead of a stand or tables. The breeze tried to tussle his short black hair, finding it difficult under the ballcap he wore; his blue eyes looking around him vigilantly due to the valuables he carried. He wore his usual jeans, t-shirt and boots, but with an added flak jacket with multiple pouches, a gun holster at his hip that carried his .50 caliber Colt revolver.

He shifted the backpack weighing down his right shoulder to more comfortably bear the weight. He found a few choice items during his last outing, and he had a rapport with the gentleman who owned it.

"So, whaddya got for me today?" Gruber said, wiping blackened machine grease from his hands; judging from that and the state of his overalls, he'd been working on his "special project."

From his pack, Felix placed four canisters of Tech Fluid (a graphite-based concoction that acted as a multi-purpose lubricant/conduction enhancer for machines, especially androids and robots), as well as miscellaneous parts like plugs, servos, power cores, and entire robotic limbs.

Gruber nodded. "Not bad, not bad."

Felix grinned. "You're gonna love this..." He slid out what appeared to be a small motor.

Gruber's eyes widened as he grinned as well. "Is that what I think it is?"

Felix nodded. "Ford-Chrysler Fusion/TruDiesel...cherry. I thought you'd like it for your pet project."

"You know me too well." Gruber replied, his eyes fixed on the motor.

****************

Felix was grinning from ear to ear, having made a lot of credits on that engine. A few more runs like that one, and he wouldn't want for anything else! His smile faded when he saw the usual group of people begging for work. It was becoming a sad fact of life that jobs were becoming scarce as resources dwindled and population rose ever so slowly. The Zone has considered multiple solutions to this, such as expansion, education programs (because scientists and doctors were badly needed), and long-term group scavenger runs.

Nearby, he noticed some "social morale specialists" plying their trade, as well. Anything to improve morale was considered and regulated by the Zone, including prostitution. Humans and androids alike were there; he could tell the difference, especially since his usual work was as a mechanic.

While tempting, he was a bit tired from his scav run, and decided on a drink instead, walking past them into the bar.
 
Ah the Zone. Zone 12 to be precise. Home sweet home. Was there anything more appealing to the soul than the mingling of institutionalised oppression with desperation, where the rich got richer and the poor, well, suffice it to say there wasn't much difference between the poor and feral animals these days. Well! That's what happens if you choose to stay beaten down mused Clara Lawless as she artfully weaved around people and machine alike in Zone 12. Her large canine, Wolf, doing the same a short distance behind her.

Yep! Just another day in paradise. If paradise felt like the end of the world. But that wasn't about to stop Clara. Life was for those who had the balls to reach out and grab it. And she certainly wasn't one for sitting on the streets begging for a job that barely paid the rent. No Sir. One could say she was in a trade all of her own with no cap on commission she thought amusing herself.

Yet, opportunity didn't simply drop into your lap. No, you needed to know where to look for it. For that, it was important to remember no matter how society evolved for the good or the bad, the basic human needs remained the same. And Clara liked to believe this went double for men or at least that's what she learnt from the sociological side of her work. Men needed jobs so they could then go spend the money they made from those jobs to fulfil their basic needs. She didn't judge them. In this dreary world everybody needed an escape from reality. Ergo money from said job went towards (in most cases) rent, bills, food, drink and fucking. And there was no place like that in Zone 12 except Magic City. A depraved nook in the Zone that catered to all sorts of depravities including the latter three.

Sure the liquor was more water than whiskey and sure the food might give you explosive diarrhoea and the hookers might not be human but a better burger and bang couldn't be found anywhere on this God's not so green anymore earth. What it did offer however, to someone like Clara, was a clientèle that were sad and lonely and eager to spend the meagre pay they'd earn't before they thought about bills and final notices.

Stopping for a moment a short distance behind some guy who was blocking her view of Sugar which was basically nothing short of brothel she glance across at the selection. One more beautiful and desirable than the next . . . What are you gonna do buddy? She thought as she stood watching him. Hit or miss? It wasn't long before he started walking away towards a bar elusively name Nomad. It would have been more accurate to have called in Bums R Us.

"Ladies." Clara two finger saluted the working girls and bot as she followed a moment behind the guy walking into the bar.

"Care to take a ride sugar?" One called out seductively with a wink. Lilly. An ebony skinned beauty who happened to be her friend. She used to give her the lowdown on the Patrons and they had a pretty sweet thing going before Sugar bolstered security measures. The bouncers? They weren't that fond of Clara.

"Maybe some other night." Clara grinned back before she slipped into the bar, Wolf waiting obediently outside the threshold until he would hear the signal.

Nomad was like any other ding box. The occupants were shady and most of them seek dark corners to do well whatever the hell they were doing. Business, pleasure. No one asked so long as you bought a drink and kept the noise down. Clara was here for neither. Actually, strictly speaking that wasn't true. She was here for business too. Except her business wouldn't take very long at all. She'd already floated the bartender this months tip to make sure everything was kosher. Thus as soon as she stepped in, Clara was down to business.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you all." She spoke in the most dumb feminism voice she could fathom. "But I'mma looking for Sugar? It's my first day and I'm going to be so late! Could you tell me if I'm close-or where to go?"

"You just past it on your way in." Sammy the bartender offered deceivingly helpfully for his usual stoic demeanour. You get what you pay for.

"Oh!"
Her hands flashed up before her face in a gasp. "I am so silly! You mean to say I walked right pas-oh!"

Like clock work she took a single step closer to the bar and suddenly crashed forward. "Oh my gosh-Oh! Oh my!" She squirmed across the lap of three men sat at the bar. She didn't even mind that one took advantage of the situation and gave one of her breasts a firm squeeze while attempting to help. "I am so sorry." She begged forgiveness as she tried to right herself, both hands moving across the chest of each man in what looked like leverage getting up. "I am so terribly clumsy!"

Finally she was back on her feet. Her work was done. Slowly she began to back out towards the door. "Well, I better get going. Thanks for all yourself-"

"Hey!" The guy who'd felt her up suddenly sprung up from his seat and she immediately knew where this was going. "You little bitch where's-" He was quickly cut off my a growling barking Wolf who was far too close for comfort to Pervo's crotch. "Okay! Okay!" He began to beg. "Just get your hound of Hades away from me."

A small grin threatened Clara's lips. "Wolf!" She whistled and they were gone just like that, with two fat wallets accompanying them. One of three guys turned out to be a bust. Clever boy, keeping your money in your pants. The rest of them? Suckers.

Soon she and Wolf were back weaving through the trudges of people in Zone 12. Her attire was selected for it's aerodynamic factors. Sneakers for the off chance she had to run. Khaki coloured pants that were skin tight for ease of movement. The short leather jacket over her tank top reversible which she turned inside out from bright pink to black as soon as she slipped out of Nomad. And that long dark hair that was all hairs, tied back into a sensible ponytail as she headed back to her minuscule apartment nearby with her pet and her small yet sizeable hoard.

All in a good day's work.
 
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Felix had splurged on the good stuff (non-watered down Fireball), and sipped at it like it was the last alcohol on Earth, the sweet burn sliding down his throat. Around him was the usual din of Nomad; promises being made, gifts being exchanged, deals being dealt...he tried not to eavesdrop, as there were no doubt some things he wouldn't want to hear. They had their business, and he had his.


As he enjoyed his drink, he heard a lady come in, loudly asking for directions. It wasn't long before she suddenly collapsed on not only his own lap, but two others as well; fortunately, Felix didn't lose his drink. He sighed in mild annoyance; while he wasn't exactly complaining to have a beautiful woman fall in his lap, it still wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world. Besides, he had a feeling that this lady wasn't ordinarily this clumsy...a feeling confirmed when one of the men shouted about his missing money, only to get a mad dog threaten to chew his balls off.


Felix smiled, the "reverse pockets" he sewed on the inside of his pants saving him from yet another pickpocketing attempt. He finished his drink before leaving to go home for the night.


**************


Near Clara's apartment complex, a large group of people made their way to the main entrance, while flying drone robots descended from above. The leader of this group wore a suit of decent quality and a trench coat, his posture and stride perfect as he followed the paramilitia troops. Inside the lobby, the handsome, clean-shaven man gave a polite smile and presented the dirty, scraggly-bearded old man at the desk with his ID. "Good day, sir; I'm Agent Lucas, Zone Investigation Bureau. I'm here to speak with one of your tenants regarding something very important…"


He reached into his coat, producing a photo of Clara. "Where does this woman reside?"


The old man looked at the paramilitia troops flanking Lucas; wearing a fusion of police and military grade armor, with full NBC-protective helmets and assault rifles. "Wha's with all th' firepower?" He slurred.


Luca's perfectly charming smile didn't waver. "The woman we're here for has a criminal record; these troops are necessary to ensure the safety of yourself and your other tenants. Please answer my question, sir; where does this woman reside?"


The old man sighed, then said, "I warned that girl trouble'd follow 'er home....Third floor, room 3D."


"Thank you for your cooperation, sir." Luca's spoke, before making a series of silent gestures with black-gloved hands that included pointing at the stairs and the main entrance. At his silent commands, the troops moved quickly….


Once on the third floor, Lucas walked calmly to the door and knocked. "Zone Investigation Bureau!" He spoke, "Please open the door!"


(GM note: If Clara chooses any other action but compliance, please roll 1d100 for success and include the result with your next post)
 
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