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Snippet #2812219

located in Atlas City, a part of Hadean, one of the many universes on RPG.

Atlas City

A city on the front line of innovation, science, industry, and heroism! A growing community, helping build a better future for everyone!

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Maeve Butler
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March 2, 2045
Stormont Estate, Belfast, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom
5:02 PM

”This is John Martin, reporting for BBC One News live from Stormont Estate, where an apparent bombing by terrorist group Fomóraigh during the seventeenth delegation to vote on reunification has damaged much of the Parliament Buildings, injuring dozens. It is currently not known how many are dead, but estimates are not optimistic. As yet, there have been no arrests, but police are working closely with the British Heroes League and United Celtic Heroes Association to uncover the culprits behind this heinous attack on British democracy. Back to you in the studio, Anna.”

March 2, 2045
Port of Belfast, Belfast, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom
9:21 PM

Maeve pressed herself against a shipping container another pair of supers passed by overhead, flying low as they scanned the area for anyone suspicious. Her fingers dug deep into the metal as they flew off into the distance; she understood the need for subtlety, but she hated having to hide like this, especially when it felt like she was running away.
”Alright, everything’s ready,” Saoirse said, slipping out of the shadows once the hero patrol was gone. ”We got a freight ship willing to take ye. Ye should be there in just a few days.”
”A few days?” Maeve pulled her fingers out of the shipping container and rubbed at her hands. Good thing it was empty, given the holes it now had in its side. ”Where are ye sending me, anyway?”
”Atlas City.”
”America?” She ran one hand through her hair. ”I admit, this is a bit of a mess, but-”
Saoirse shook her head. ”No, this works out. We needed someone to meet with a contact in Atlas City anyway.”
Maeve sighed through her nose as the two of them started walking toward the pier, keeping away from the lights in case any more patrols came through the area. A contact in Atlas City. So Paul had decided to go through with the plan to seek external support. She understood it from a tactical perspective, but it still left a foul taste in her mouth. Even if everyone in their “organization” had powers, Fomóraigh was still less than 100 strong, and despite the media’s insistence to the contrary had existed for less than a decade. Still, Maeve wasn’t thrilled at the thought of them becoming beholden to someone else, especially someone for whom the Fomóraigh and their ideals were little more than a convenient business opportunity.
”So?”
”So what?”
Saoirse pulled Maeve to a stop. ”Don’t play stupid,” she chastised, looking up at the sky instead of at Maeve. Her grip was tight on Maeve’s arm. ”If ye lost yourself at the assembly, then does that mean-”
”Yes.”
Saoirse let out a foul string of Gaelge that was only silenced by Maeve putting her hand over her mouth to keep Saoirse from giving their location away to any supers still in the area. Saoirse struggled under her grip for a bit, then huffed and tapped Maeve’s forearm to signal it was fine to let go now.
”No bleedin’ wonder ye lost it! I would too!” Saoirse spoke in the breathy shout-whisper of someone trying not to wake the dead. ”Seventeen damned blood-fuck years! You’d think they’d just give up the act at this point!”
Maeve sighed. ”Aye, well.”
The Northern Ireland Assembly’s Seventeenth Delegation to Vote on Irish Reunification. The best joke they’d come up with yet. As if they would ever actually vote to leave the Crown’s good graces. Or that Parliament would ever really let them. Instead they played a game every year where they’d gather up in Stormont Estate, pretend they were going to have a serious discussion on the subject, then ultimately vote against it while the English media ran feel-good pieces about how nice and loyal and unified the Kingdom was, and wasn’t it grand how much Northern Ireland preferred them to the Republic? Maeve found it absolutely vile.
”Come on. You’re the one who knows which ship it is.” She turned and continued walking toward the pier. Saoirse’s mouth opened and closed a few times, evidently with more to say, but instead she just huffed and jogged to catch up.
”It’s this one,” she said, indicating a large American cargo ship which appeared to have finished loading at least 2 hours prior. ”They were planning to leave a bit earlier, but we managed to convince them to push back their schedule.”
”Alright then.” She lifted the wide hat hanging off her back up onto her head. ”I’ll be off. Try not to let Paul break everything apart without me, aye?”
”Just a second, Maeve.” Saoirse grabbed Maeve’s arm and turned her around before pulling her down for a hug. ”Be wide, aye? There’re a lot more supers in Atlas. Mind your temper.”
”Are you my ma now?” Maeve quipped, pulling away.
”Not with that attitude,” Saoirse replied, laughing. Maeve turned to leave, and Saoirse stopped her again. ”One more thing. Paul might want ye to get this boxed, but an agreement goes both ways. If ye feel they can’t help us, or ye don’t trust them, just leave. We can find someone else.”
Maeve was quiet for a long moment, looking out at the sea. ”That might not matter,” she said finally. ”But I’ll bear it in mind. See ye when it’s done, Saoirse.” Then she left and boarded the ship to Atlas City, leaving the rest of the Fomóraigh to hold the fort without her.