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Born in the Light of Eyes » Places

Places in Born in the Light of Eyes

This is a list of locations that can be found in Born in the Light of Eyes.


All Places

MCU Headquarters

5 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2019-03-26 16:30:05 »

         
Prince watched calmly as Atlas took off at a decent clip to take on the pickpocket. A sip of his coffee and a very disinterested gaze were all the indication Prince gave that he was even paying attention to this little adventure. As he continued to watch Atlas, rather than the pickpocket, he started picking up on the subtle clues to his movements. Everyone usually had something that gave them away if people were paying attention, and learning how people move was a good way to pick them out of a crowd when getting a facial recognition simply wasn't on the table. A slight limp, a longer step with the left than the right, maybe their body slanted in a certain direction. With Atlas, it was different. Bots always had a certain way about them, they were blocky and confident. Their strides always had some kind of mechanical presence to it, but with Atlas, it was almost the opposite. With the body using more synthetic components than mechanical ones, it was the idealized version of a human body, just better. When he moved, it had the same confidence of a robotic personality using algorithms to move rather than intuition or gut, but it was too smooth. No limp, no gait, no discerning factors aside from the fact that it was too perfect a movement.

Prince had made that same observation about the pickpocket the moment he had made his move, his eyes tracing over every inch of the man's covered body. His movements were mostly organic, but he favored his right side with a noticeable tell tale sign of augmentation. It wouldn't be a leg, as that would most likely provide an upwards slant as opposed to a downwards one, and it couldn't be a military augment because that would draw too much attention, but it was heavy enough to change the man's walking stance. Prince wondered if Atlas had taken the time to observe his target before reaching out to him. Personally, Prince looked forward to seeing how Atlas handled what was going to inevitably be a slightly violent but not over the top pickup.

Mechanical movements, all too perfect. Strides long and already gaining. Still. It didn’t seem to give away Atlas’ intentions, as far as catching the thief went. Though, if Prince’s analysis was correct, it seemed as if he’d noticed the thief’s unusual gait. He’d maneuvered himself just so, positioning himself to the man’s right side, rather than his left. Even inorganic, mechanical models police used were outfitted with retina-scanners capable of picking up irregularities. Prosthetic limbs, outfitted with codes; even if they were wiped, there was a good chance he’d sensed it underneath his pants. Or else, noticed the slight difference in his gait. Maybe, he’d just been lucky.

As soon as Atlas’ fingers grappled onto the man’s sleeve, the man’s momentum carried him around. A harsh ripping sounded, before mechanical fingers found themselves around a fleshy bicep. It jerked the man roughly backwards. No chance carrying the android forward, seeing how vast the weight difference was between them. Didn’t stop the thief from reeling to the side, all snarls. The purse dropped to the ground and spilled its contents across the pavement. A stick of lipstick rolled off the curb. Car keys. A picture. “Lemme go, you fuckin—” a sharp yelp, as a fist collided into Atlas’ face plate.

It snapped Atlas’ head backwards, but did little in the means of damage. Poor guy probably broke his hand.

Seemed like he was expecting someone different. A person, maybe. Another sharp intake of breath, a wheedling whine. Faces turned in their direction. People whispered, tucked themselves closer to the building. Atlas’ fingers looked as if they were digging in tighter, locking in place, though he didn’t seem to notice the man’s obvious distress, as he tried to squirm away, “You were instructed to halt, sir. You did not comply. We will be taking you down to the precinct to answer for what you’ve done.” Instructions, spoken in a matter-of-fact tone. He looked over his shoulder at Prince, and drew his free hand up, thumb flagged.

Prince continued to drink his coffee in a calm manner as if there was nothing happening in front of him at all. His eyes coasted to the people around them, noticing how many of them were huddled together, avoiding the area or deliberately turning around to avoid the confrontation altogether. As he walked closer to the idiot and the machine, he mentally restrained himself from sighing as he bent down and retrieved the purse from the thief. Taking a quick glance around the ground to make sure nothing fell out, he looked at the wannabe swiftfingers and gave a nod. "I'm going to assume you didn't grab anything out of this purse, right?" The criminal shook his head vigorously, straining somewhat under Atlas's hold, but otherwise remaining still. Prince turned slowly, sauntering over to the woman who had slowly been approaching the officers as they retrieved her purse. As they closed the distance between each other, Prince handed the purse over. "Make sure nothing important is missing." Prince asked before she could say anything, which was answered with her rifling through her purse and grabbing a few important items.

"It looks like everything is here. Thank you officer." Prince gave a shrug before turning back towards the two individuals still locked in a grapple on the ground. Stepping to the front of them, he knelt down and noticed that the man's hand was already purple and starting to swell. A quick look at the thief showed that his clothes, while at first glance acceptable, showed signs of wear and tear. His face, while relatively clean was unshaven and his eyes were sunken. Creases lined his cheeks and while he looked ready to bolt at any moment, it seemed to be more out of desperation than a genuine need to escape. Prince rifled through the man's pockets, much to the man's discomfort as he squirmed and moved to avoid it, but Atlas held him down. Soon enough, he found the man's wallet, and upon opening it, his ID card. Flicking the rest of the wallet onto the ground, he stood up with the card in one hand and his coffee in the other. Taking another sip, a green display appeared in front of his face

"Mr. Alan Torrinson. 8165 Albert Street, Apartment 24. Sucks to be you, don't it?" Prince turned the card over, making sure his implant recorded every detail of it before tossing it on the ground. "I'm positive Alan here understands the error of his ways, don't you Alan?" Prince asked as his implant connected him with the criminal database back at HQ, bringing up no prior criminal record on Torrinson. Once all that information had been conveyed, the information display in front of Prince's face disappeared and he looked down at the thief. "Find another way to make ends meet. I know who you are and where you live, don't make the same mistake twice." Prince stated before turned to Atlas. "Release him."

Atlas made a happy humming sound as Prince approached. Clearly, he was pleased with himself. Thought he’d done a bang-up job. Probably. It was hard to tell, what with the lack of mouth, eyes, and stereotypical features humans had. His face-plate lit up, flashed briefly and dimmed back to its opaque, reflective surface. It reflected the man’s face; twisted into a pained sneer, lips peeled back from teeth that could’ve been tended to a little better. Obviously it wasn’t something that was at the top of his priorities, though nicking purses from poor ladies in the streets definitely was. Leather fingers dug into the tendons of the man’s wrist, as if he were holding the leash of a particularly rascally dog and not the fleshy wrist of a human being.

He watched as Prince retrieved the purse and plopped it into the manicured hands of the woman. She, at least, appeared grateful that the ordeal was concluded. Relieved, but wary. Rifling through the purse as she was with a sour look on her face, eyes flitting up to stare at her thief, crumpled on the ground at his feet. After thanking Prince, Atlas seemed to beam up. He straightened his shoulders, and flashed another thumbs up; face-plate winking a pixelated smile, before he turned back to stare at Prince, occasionally whirring his head to regard the criminal attempting to weasel his fingers between his mechanical hands and his captive wrist. The sound of clacking heels announced the woman’s departure. All was well.

If Atlas at all noticed the damage he was doing to the man… he certainly wasn’t giving any indication of it. Might’ve even held the man’s wrist until it died and fell off. He stood stock-still, not giving the man any berth, as Prince shoved his hand through his pockets. He seemed to lean forward and peer down at the card held in his hand. Staring at the blinking light that showed Mr. Alan Torrinson’s face, an ID that told them everything they wanted to know. He planted a hand on his hip and rolled one of his shoulders; as if in acknowledgment to his rhetorical question. Or, in an attempt to look like a tough guy. As soon as Prince ordered his release, his leather fingers immediately relinquished their grip and sent the man sprawling on the ground, cradling his hand to his chest.

“Ah, yes,” he drew a hand to his face-plate, and cleared his dual-toned voice, “Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, shame on you.” An awkward pause, before he added, “That’s how it goes, doesn’t it?”

Prince peered over at Atlas, glaring slightly as if to say 'play your part bot' before looking at the man slightly writhing on the ground. "Hey, get going. I don't want to see your face again..." The man paused for a moment then climbed to his feet and did what seemed like a powerwalk through the slightly encircling crowd in his attempt to move away from the police officers. Prince took a sip of his coffee, giving the retreating figure of the wannabe criminal an uninterested gaze while keeping the crowd in his periphery. A good chunk of people had stopped to stare at the police roughing someone up, but the moment the event was over most seemed to wander on their way. A sigh of relief escaped Prince's mouth as he started walking down the block. "C'mon."

With what seemed to be the most exciting part of this beat detail over with, Prince continued to drink his coffee in hopes that the caffeine would be enough to get him through the rest of the day. "So...If you were a standard bot, this is where I would be tweaking some of your operating procedures." Prince said as he slightly swirled his cup. "Because for a simple pickpocket, you did way more damage than necessary. His hand, at the very least, is probably fractured. You were holding his wrists with a deathgrip as if he had any chance of actually fighting you, and you weren't paying attention to the people around you." Prince took another sip from his coffee as they continued to walk. "What I mean by that is that the SCPD, and in particular, the 'bots' they use to supplement their workforce, are to be held to a standard far above any other city or government official because of our position on the world stage. While I don't think anything damaging will come out of that slight altercation, people seeing a bot tackle, pin and potentially harm someone who only grabbed a purse and tried to run is sending a message of an overaggressive workforce. Do you understand?"

If Atlas at all understood the glare, he certainly gave no indication. A slight tip of the head and that was all. Unsurprisingly, subtleties and nuances seemed lost on him. Maybe he hadn’t been programmed with those types of things? Sarcasm, nor bitter humor, either. Almost seemed as if he took everything Prince said literally. He watched as the bedraggled man scrambled backwards, regaining his feet long enough to carry him far, far away—without so much as glancing behind him. He only paid the dispersing crowd a glance, carbon-fingers twining behind his back. At ease, but curiosity seemed to waft from him in apparent, unsubtle waves; he seemed to like the attention well enough. Though, he snapped to attention as soon as Prince indicated that they were done here, following at his side.

“Tweaking some of my procedures,” his voice whirred a clip lower, confusion apparent. It was stated like a question he didn’t quite understand. Or else, like a teen that was being reprimanded without reason. His face plate reflected Prince’s face, as he craned towards him, though his hands seemed to clench momentarily into fists, flitting and loosening as they walked. He seemed to stew in silence, shoulders slightly bunched up. He, at least, seemed to be listening and didn’t interrupt as he talked. Only when he finished did Atlas shove his hands into the pockets of his trench coat, much like an unruly child who’d been chastised. Though, without any of the contemptuous sass. “I… I do understand.”

He pulled his hands free from the trench coat that covered the majority of his body, and rubbed at one of his wrists. Fingers treading along where his veins would’ve beat if he had them. “Wasn’t he a bad person? Weren’t we protecting the citizens from people like him?” Another pause, hesitant this time. “Do you think he’ll be OK? His wrist.”

"There are plenty of free clinics further down that should be able to help him out. A lot more charitable citizens in this city than one would believe, along with more criminals than the media would ever allow to slip into the world at large." Prince answered first, taking a drink as he finished and continuing to walk down the street. "And the answer is both yes and no. Yes, he broke the law in a few different fashions. He stole something and he tried to evade the law, either of which would normally put someone in the holding cell at least, with a most likely sentence of 5 years." Prince continued, nodding to a couple people as they addressed the pair as officers. "But... not everyone is a bad person. Sometimes people do bad things because they have no choice. Did you notice his clothes? His eyes? The wrinkles and signs of stress etched onto him? Did you notice he ran with more desperation than purpose? When he struggled, was it panic or malevolent intent?" Prince stated, his eyes staring into the distance ahead of them.

He had seen it more than he would like to admit, the downtrodden and unlucky who come here believing the stories put forward by the media. They believed it was a fresh start with a guaranteed success rate. They didn't find out until it was too late, that Sonder City was just like any other place, just with a bit more makeup and attention to detail. So many would be criminals just found themselves at the wrong end of the spectrum, doing anything they could to survive. He couldn't let them all go with a warning, but there were those who were obviously doing it out of a sense of loss rather than greed or desire to inflict pain. "I'll be the first to admit... I don't know much about AI, so I don't know if you can recognize the inner workings of a person's emotions or intentions... but I guess that's why I'm here." Prince gave a sigh, taking yet another drink from his coffee. "End of the day, the laws are guidelines. Right and wrong can't be equated to lines in a book. They can be guided, sure, and of course we need some semblance of order in order to function as a society, so the law serves a purpose... but some days you just have to go with your gut as to what is right or wrong."

It was at this moment, something dawned on Prince as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Here I am spouting philosophy to a machine. Not as if you can fully understand all of this anyways. Look, just do me a favor and try to gauge the reaction based on the crime. A simple pickpocket doesn't need his bones broken, we clear?"

Atlas seemed lost in thought as he listened. Well, as much as one could look puzzled with a faceplate that occasionally lit up, and flickered down into a more muted tone, reflecting the surrounding buildings and passing faces; those brazen enough to actually peer around at them. At first, he seemed to want to say something else, perking his head up, then lowering it back down: quiet. For once. “That… I don’t think that’s in my code.” The way he said it seemed… pained, as if he didn’t really like saying it that way. “He looked scared.”

His shoulders slumped a fraction. A slight whir was a near-constant to his actions; hydraulic pumps and inner workings never quite human. His movements, as Prince had noticed before, were near perfect. Posture, gait, run. Though, there were times, like in this moment, where he almost appeared childish. Shoulders bunched, hands coming to rest at his hips: like a kid who’d been reprimanded. Like someone who was considering his actions and not quite understanding the consequences. The why’s. “Go with your gut?” He glanced down where his stomach would be, and then back at Prince. A noise that sounded awfully close to a sigh puffed out from his voice-box.

Another quick nod of the head seemed to be his answer to Prince’s question. Not that he had much choice. He hadn’t seemed very happy with the way he'd resolved things, so maybe he wouldn’t cause undue injury in the future. Hopefully. Another long silence, drawn and reserved. Contemplative, almost. He glanced towards the building and tapped the toe of his foot on the ground. This time, his voice was quieter.“Are you going to put this in the report?”

Prince shrugged, taking a long sip from his coffee as they continued to walk down the street. "Where would it get me, putting that you roughed someone up in a report?" Prince stared ahead, almost like he didn't have the capacity to look at whoever he was talking to while speaking. "I put it in, and the best that will happen is the chief ordering me to work out your kinks, the worst he'll berate me for falsifying a report in order to rid myself of a partner. Either way, it's just not worth the effort." A part of Prince knew he was acting very much like an asshole, but an even bigger part of him simply didn't care. He didn't like having a partner, much less a tin can of one, and he didn't see the point in hiding his feelings in that regard. It was often better to simply air what you were thinking and suffer the consequences, than hide and pretend everything was fine. "Long story short, no, it won't be going in the report. Not noteworthy enough. We took down a pickpocket, no need to explain further."

Prince motioned with his free hand as he continued down the street. "C'mon, we still have a ways to go yet, and I would prefer to do it before the coffee gets cold."

The base of operations for the MCU in Sonder City

Augmented Refuge (CAI HQ)

The unofficial official Headquarters and Safehouse for CAI members and representatives

Sugar and Spice (S&S)

A fairly electric and entertaining night club with a dubious history

Central Park

A beautiful park with a misleading name

City Hall

The seat of Government for Sonder City

Macker's Gym

A relatively ordinary gym that seems to be a common workout place for SCPD members

The Last Stand Bar

A popular after work get together for a number of individuals

Middle-Middle

The Middle Class Area of Sonder City, encompasses the majority of the City's territory.

Slums

Where the poor thrive and die in equal measure, driven to the brink of human deprivation in order to see the next day.

Infinity HQ

The Headquarters for the Infinity Corporation inside Sonder City.

Itemis HQ

Itemis Corporation Head Offices

Vackar Tech HQ

The Head Offices of Vackar Tech.

Sonder City

The City of Hope and Dreams

Sky District

The upper class district in Sonder City. Mainly composed of the rich and powerful, including seat of government and corporation HQ's.