The Hand of God (IC)

[Music]

The only lights that the small group of Resistance members could see were an eerie fog-light in the distance and the pulse charges on their guns. The soft pattering of six feet on a metal surface was the only noise. Elle was afraid to even breathe.

On such a dark night, Elle would have been perfectly content to go to sleep in her home, which was an old, abandoned bank on the edge of Central Park. It was a Saturday night, so she would be going to church the next morning. But there was no time for that now. She had been chosen for this mission: sabotage. She had the details memorized. A dangerous task, only two others had come along.

She darted silently ahead, intent upon reaching her goal faster. But then-

Whee-ooo! Whee-ooo!

Deafening sirens suddenly blared all around the little trio as spotlights on the sides of the narrow walkway lit up. Elle, cringing, turned back to see one of her companions, indistinct in the sub-darkness, step off of a trip wire, which was designed to catch intruders. Apparently, it had done its job. A feminine voice began stating in a loud montone, "Welcome to New York City. Present identification to the nearest console. Present identification to the nearest console. Present identification..."

Elle's eyes darted from the boys to the hidden elevator they had used to access the Upper City. "Run," she said, as all three of them took off at once, abandoning the mission. Mentally, Elle was cursing herself. She had been given command of this mission. She'd botched it; now there would be hell to pay...

Pseew! Ps-pseew! Three laser shots came out of nowhere and hit Kevin in the chest. "Kevin! NOO!" shouted the other soldier (Elle couldn't remember his name) as the dark-haired man clasped his chest and toppled slowly, as if suspended, over the side of the platform into the darkness. "Keep - moving!" Elle shouted through gritted teeth, grasping the guy's arm and dragging him part of the way. Then she forced his head down in time to avoid two more laser shots that came arcing through the air to strike again.

Now the source of the shots was close enough to see clearly. Two police-bots, hovering on their one 'leg', were glaring at the couple. "Resist and die," stated one of them in a grating metallic voice.The other armed his pulse rifle as if to prove this point. Elle, who already had out Winona, was aiming the pulse pistol at the left cop, while she noted out of the corner of her eye that the boy was aiming his own blaster at the other robot. They shot in unison, the blasts resinating off the spiderwebbed metal walkways of the city.

Her shot was true, striking the robot squarely. Immediately, he tumbled to the ground with a muffled thud. The other cop was hit as well; although the blast had only struck his arm, it knocked him off balance and he followed Kevin over the edge.

Elle, looking at the male, helped him to his feet (he had fallen over) and they raced to the elevator and began their long descent. Indeed, there would be hell to pay for what had just happened...

.....

Brace d'Ardeneta was completely oblivious to the violence that took place less than a block away from his apartment. Well, one block and roughly 389 floors.

He was sitting smugly on his leather sofa, drinking hot cocoa and watching a documentary about the Civil War. He snorted in derision; what kind of fools would let an entire sector of their country sever ties with them? He was lucky to grow up under such a better regime. His father was a genius.

He checked the time; it was after midnight. No matter; tomorrow was Sundaym and he had nothing planned. He could sleep all day if he so desired...

Bzz. Bzz. His communicator vibrated insistantly, so he picked up the small black device and checked it. He had a new comm, from his mother. Your father wishes to see you in the morning in his office read the message. Brace mentally noted the meeting, then proceded to turn back to the television. He had a lot to do in the morning...

To cite my picture:
http://bestgamewallpapers.com/files/per ... c-city.jpg

[towers]

Pandora looked at the clock on the wall; every second felt like a slow torturing drain on her life. She hated the city at night, it felt like one big prison. She sat there on her large bed in the dark room, listening to the ticking of the clock. Tick tick tick… More of her life drained way. Pandora couldn’t take it anymore; she grabbed her towel from the top of her dresser and headed out her room. She was careful not to wake her mother when she unlocked the front door and crept out. Pandora decided to take a midnight swim to calm her mind.

She headed down the large corridor towards the main lobby; no one was there except the receptionist robot. Damn ugly thing. Pandora ignored the soda machines’ advertisement as she walked passed it, those things always annoyed her. The young girl finally arrived to the gym; the pool was just on the other side. Of course the pool and gym area were empty, nobody in their right mind would be working out this late.

Pandora took advantage of the vacant rooms as she striped to her underwear and bra. She knew the cameras were on, the cameras were always on, but it didn’t matter, she doubted that anybody was watching anyways. She made her way to the edge of the pool and looked down; the constant moving water made her reflection blurry. It comforted her; she was used to seeing her father in her refection. Pandora dived in. The cool water felt good against her skin.

Maze sleep like a log through the night, every now and then he would drool onto his pillow.

[DreamingForever]

Jacey twirled her black hair around her small index finger; a sure sign that she was nervous. She was worried about Elle and the two boys she had taken with her. They had left earlier and still weren’t back as the night grew later. She sighed and shut her eyes in a desperate attempt to calm herself. She silently prayed to God that he would look over Elle and the boys, to insure their safe return.

Once she had finished praying, she stood up from her tiny bed. Her house was located about a block down from Elle’s. It was a small home, but it was a sanctuary for Jacey. She had lived here all her life with her father. He had picked this house and Jacey intended to live in it until the day her heart stopped beating.

She slowly made her way down the stairs and threw open the front door, feeling as if she needed air. She took in a great breath of the fresh air (Well, as fresh as it could be for living in an abandoned New York underneath the City) and felt herself relax. She couldn’t help being worried; it was in her nature. With one more quiet sigh she began to stroll down the deserted street, knowing she would get no sleep until her friend’s were safe.

[rachelbeann]

Charlie paused, fingers hovering over her keyboard. Her eyes zeroed in on the single sentence filling up her screen. Man apprehended yesterday pleads guilty to possession of hazardous texts.

They were mocking her, she was sure of it. Ten words, and it had taken her how long to write them? She rolled her shoulders, urging feeling back into her exhausted muscles.

What she wanted was air, but it was getting too late - correction, was too late - to consider taking a walk. (She was well-aware she wasn't allowed the same eccentricities others could sometimes get away with, late-night forays included; her family still bore the the black mark of her brother's betrayal, and d'Ardeneta had nothing if not an impeccable memory.) She squeezed her eyes shut and tapped the keypad adjacent to her computer a few times. The system chirped dutifully and the temperature in her room dipped a few degrees.

The problem, she surmised, was that those ten words were the entirety of the information her boss had given her on the article. No name, age, or sentence. Certainly no reference to the materials he'd possessed upon arrest. No, it was Charlie's job to expand the backbone into something sinister; it was her job to paint a picture of something menacing without a single detail to support it.

But she certainly wasn't going to get it done tonight. With a sigh, she got up, tapping her keypad again. With a churlish sound, the window slid open.

[Lulu]

Glancing over her shoulder, Sahara said her goodbyes to her elderly empoyer, scanning her timecard as she headed out the door. Zipping up her jumpsuit, which provided a weak buffer against the wind, she turned left, eager to get home. A figure whistled as he got into her car, causing Sahara to turn around, giving a wave to Zhar as he got into his car, pausing as he turned to call out to her.

"Need a ride, love?"

Sahara gave a shake of her head, giving him a quick smile.

"No, i'm good, you know i'm just round the corner."

She turned and walked off, hearing him mutter something about her never accepting rides, giving Sahara a reason to laugh as she rounded the corner, her short burst of laughter ending quickly as she looed up at her absoloutely ugly apartment building, she hated living so close to people, people above, people below, people at either side of her, people everywhere. With a sigh she crossed her arms over her chest, swiping her card at the door as she headed to the elevator.

Once the doors of the lift closed her in, she relaxed against the back panel. She rubbed the knotted muscles at her neck before unzipping the jumpsuit, peeling the thing off to the waist. Underneath she was wearing a white singlet, hating the feel of the synthetic material against her skin. Once inside her door, she sagged against the frame of it, liking the quiet, and the fact that she was on her own for once, not being monitored. Peeling off the jumpsuit entirely, she tossed the ugly thing in the laundry, eager to be able to feel the air on her skin instead of material that reminded her of a plastic bag.

She would have killed for a cup of coffee right about now. She hadn't had freshly ground coffee in years, but could still recall the scent in her nose from memory. The instant coffee she spooned into her cup was a far cry from anything freshly roasted, but it had the caffeine she practically ran on these days. What she wouldn't give for a sleep in a decent bed and waking up to a fresh cup of coffee. The thought caused her to laugh morbidly. As if. She thought. Her communicator vibrated loudly, the little device spinning around on the marble countertop. Immediately knowing it was her brother, who called endlessly to check up on her, she ignored it. The overprotective bastard just wouldn't give her a break. As the thing kept buzzing, she shoved it into a kitchen drawer, which muffled the sound some, before she headed off to bed, hoping to get some sleep this time.

[towers]

Maze woke up the next morning earlier than expected; his communicator was going berserk. The young man rubbed his eyes and grabbed his comlink; three miss messages, and all from the detective in charge of his battalion. Maze sighed as he placed the small device on his nightstand and stood up. This meant he wasn’t going to be able to work out this morning. Water was running in the bathroom and Maze noticed his wife’s clothes on the floor, she must have just gotten back from her night shift from the hospital. “Great, no showers either.” He mumbled as he headed to his closet.

Maze arrived to work lest than an hour later. “Where the hell have you been Blu?” His commander asked; not expecting an answer. “We have two patrol bots missing and reading down on our sensors. Apparently a group of sewage rats tried to make it to the surface. We don’t know if they were successful.” His commander explained. He was a short man, but he made up for it with his attitude. Maze could never take him seriously though on the account that the man a mustache the size of a small rabbit growing under his noise.

“What do you want me to do about it boss?” Maze asked before taking a sip of a nasty cup of coffee. He made a face at the cup and set it down. “What I want you to do is join Murphy who’s already down there and see exactly what happened. We don’t have cameras that far down there.” Maze brushed his hair back with his hands as he headed out the door.

}}I made it the next morning, I hope that's okay...{{

[Music]

(That's fine. I kept the boy anonymous because I wasn't sure if Orith Nar wanted to insert character. If he doesn't post pretty soon or chooses not to, I'll create an NPC identity for the guy.)

As soon as Elle was in the elevator with the other guy, she collapsed to the floor, not noticing his actions. She reflected on the failed mission, knowing that she was completely accountable for the death of a comrade. Her legs hurt, and she was just tired. So she eventually just fell asleep, knowing that it would be a while before the old-fashioned cargo elevator reached the Old City, far below the high-tech platforms that rose far above the old landmarks.

.....

Brace, having dozed off with the documentary still playing, woke up the next morning to a large cocoa stain on the leg of his jumpsuit and the couch. Cursing aloud, he stripped off the soiled fabric and started the shower. After he felt sufficiently clean, he went to find the next uniform. He smiled, realizing that it was his favorite colors: red and black. He had more liberty than most when it came to dressing in the morning.

He remembered the meeting with his father. Honestly wondering what he was being bothered about now, he quickly ordered a plate of toast (which appeared instantly in the particle transporter) and ate the food. After he finished getting ready to go, he grabbed his communicator and headed out the door, boarding the elevator to the ground floor of the apartment complex. Sighing and pressing his button, he leaned against the wall to wait. Living on the top floor of a 390-floor tower had both advantages and disadvantages.

[Lulu]

Sahara woke early, far too early. It was the weekend, it didn't make sense for her to wake up yet, but her sleeping patterns never did. Yawning, she looked over at the clock. Damn. It was only 4am? She'd be tired again by midday. Sitting up, she patted down her hair pressing the control near her headboard to bring up the steel shutters. She frowned, looking out at the ugly black and grey buildings that obscured her vision of the sky, the horizon, everything. She found a small patch of sky between two executive buildings, staring at the light grey sky until it was streaked with pink, signifying sunrise, sitting on her bed and watching that small patch of sky until the sun had fully risen. Thinking it was finally a suitable hour to be up and about, she scooted to the end of the bed.

She was intending to go down to the gym this morning, but decided she wanted to take a bath first, which was stupid, because she'd only be getting hot and sweaty, needing another shower/bath. Knotting her hair on top of her head, she closed the door to the shower, turning the water on and slipping into the tub, turning off the exhaust fan, wanting to let the room get more steamed up than a sauna.

Exiting the bathroom in a cloud of steam a great while later, she walked into her walk in robe, looking at both sides. On one side there were her standard issue civilian jumpsuits, on the other were her 'proper clothing'. Frowning, she pulled a jumpsuit roughly off the hanger. Putting on fresh underwear and a white singlet, she cringed as she pulled on the jumpsuit, the thing feeling like a bodybag. Grabbing a sweat towel and a bottle of water, she walked out of her apartment, heading for the lift.

She watched the lift's progress through the building, seeing one coming from the very top. Pressing the button, she waited. Who the hell would want to live on the top floor anyway? She haphazardly braided her hair as she waited for the lift to reach her floor, breathing a little sigh as she stepped in, not taking any notice of the people/person in the lift with her. She pulled at the collar and zippers of the jumpsuit uncomfortably, eager to get to the gym.

[Conquerer_Man]

The twilight of the undercity cast an ethereal shadow from the buildings as the small portion of the day that the sun actually hit the old New York City began to fade. It would be an almost perpetual night once the sun was directly over head of the city. The only place that would get any sun shine from here on out would be Central Park, which was left uncovered for some reason.

Wallace cherished these times when he could see the sun. Looking out of the window of his workshop, he set his gaze upon the brilliant sphere the began its ascent into the sky. Wallace always felt like this was parting a kiss from the sun, in which he would see very little of until dusk when he would again get that brief kiss of sunlight.

Turning back to his work on hand, Wallace lit several candles while he still had light to strike the matches. He had several electrical lights set up all around his workshop but he hadn't turned them on yet and he was too far away from the closest switch. The dancing light from the candles lit up the room in a eerily otherworld sort of way, revealing his workshop to their best capabilities.

Wallace's workshop was old, abandoned way before the cities moved upward. He had holed him self up in an old factory that had been abandon for some time. For that reason it was made out of brick and massive steel girders that still held the line despite their age, thanks primarily to the new cities that made the world underneath almost climate-less. The building had faced some wear and tear but now it faced nothing, with the occasional water break from the city above as an exception. The building also had every thing he needed. The large floor space for his make shift smelt and furnace, the large metal containment room where he kept his more dangerous chemicals in for storage, all the scrap metal he would ever need, and train access to the rest of the old New York City. He even had an old office to call home. It was almost all he needed.

Using the light from the candles, Wallace navigated the various benches and large objects around his workshop. The switch to turn on the lights was close by, suspended from the ceiling from an electric wire that ran to the main circuit in his office. With a push of a button the entirety of the place was lit up. It was good to see.

"Now back to work," Wallace said out loud as he sat down at his bench. In front of him was a mess of different things. Various books about several different military weapons, machining techniques, and explosives mix. He also had before him a hand written copy of the Anarchist Cookbook which he had picked up from a man dealing in outlawed books. Also set before him were several machined pieces of metal, the crude workings of an improvised explosives launcher. He had the main idea of how the old rocket launchers, such as the AT-4 and RPG, worked and now he was trying his hand at making them. So far the launcher part was finished but he had yet figured out the best way of making the explosive it’s self. So far he was trying to figure out what would be the best delivery system, rocket or explosive charge. With the rocket he would get better range and explosive size but at the cost of complexity. If he went with the explosive charge it would be much simpler to make but at the cost of size and having to rework the launcher mechanism a bit. Then he had to figure out if wanted a shape charge or normal high explosives round. It was a hard decision. “At this rate, I might as well give up on you guys,” he said as he turned his head to a cork-board with several different plans and blueprints pinned up on them. Putting his head in his hands, he sighed and then got back to work.

---

A few hours later and Wallace had to put the launcher down. He had put enough work into it for today. At least he decided what to do. Going with the rocket propelled high explosives charge he felt was the best choice and later he could work on the others. So laying before him was the half assembled prototype “Faux-RPG” tube and casing for the round. It definitely looked like the old soviet RPG launchers if just a bit shorter and a fatter projectile. It actually looked more like the Panzerfaust used by the Germans in WWII, and in the end Wallace would probably have to fire it like that, under his arm instead of over the should.

Having finished his work on his project for the day, Wallace decide it would be best for him to head to the resistance HQ to see if he’s needed for something.

It took about fifteen minutes for Wallace to make his way to the closest bus stop, and that was using the old L-tracks as a personal road to the other parts of the city. Waiting, he stood in a crowd of about a dozen people that were also there for the bus.

The ride over was somewhat cramped. In fact annoyingly so too. With at least several other seats, a young man had chosen to sit next to Wallace. Not that Wallace didn’t like people sitting next to him, but the seats where just a bit too small for his legs and he liked to sit with his legs either taking up the entire bench or with his legs parted and his arms stretched out as he reclined slightly. This man had just sat down with no regard to Wallace at all.

Annoyed, Wallace did the one thing he knew best, scare ‘em out. Taking out a few det-caps he asked the man to hold them while he looked for something. Obliging, the man held on to them with a puzzled look on his face as he wondered what Wallace was trying to dig out. Finally after a few minutes, Wallace pulled out a cigar from his inside jacket pocket and placed it in his mouth. “Now where did I put those matches, where they next to the charges,” he said out loud to him self. With a quick realization of what Wallace was about to do, and the fact he was holding explosive det-caps, the man next to Wallace threw them down and moved to the farthest seat away from him. With smile on his face, Wallace stretched out and put away the det-caps but still held the cigar in his mouth.

Arriving at the old theater that was now the HQ, Wallace exited the bus by him self. Everyone else had decided it best to get off on the next stop after Wallace’s stunt. Heading inside, he hoped that they would have something for him to do, preferably one that allowed him to use his skills.

[DreamingForever]

A tiny person could be seen curled up in a chair off in one of the darker corners of the room. Seeing as the City blocked most of the light, one couldn’t be sure of the time. Jacey had roamed around last night until about 2am when she had decided to stay here for the night. It wasn’t very comfortable but it was the fastest way to get information on missions.

Jacey woke up, startled, as someone walked into the HQ where she had passed out last night. She examined the face and with a smile, realizing it was Wallace. She considered calling him over but was hesitant. She needed to know if anyone had heard from Elle or the boys. That’s why she had come here late last night.

She waved him over, a small smile on her pretty face. She didn’t know Wallace very well but from what she had heard, he was a very nice man. A little stubborn and very into his work, but a nice man all in all. Besides, Jacey knew trust was the most important thing while being in the resistance. If you couldn’t trust anyone you might as well be dead.

[Conquerer_Man]

Seeing Jacy wave him over, Wallace mosied on over. An odd way to discribe his movments but never the less accurate as he slowly made his way to wherer Jacy was.

Jacy, in Wallace's perspective, was a small girl. Tiny to the point of almost in Wallace's eyes of being a midget or a dwarf. Of course being 6'8", Wallace probably looked like giant to someone so small. All a matter of perspective really, was what Wallace always said.

"I'm guessing you decided to spend the night here," Wallace commented as he saw Jacy's tosseled and wayward hair. Pulling out a lighter from his jacket pocket, Wallace lit up the cigar still in his mouth from the bus ride. All of his explosive material was in one of three fire resistant bags suspended at his waist, so any ashes or embers from the cigar wouldn't have set anything off. Smoking was something he had picked up during his occasional visits to the old New York City from when he still lived topside. In the city you couldn't smoke, because then you would get cancer and that would make you a burden on the state. At least that was the excuse the government used to ban the making and selling of any tobbacco product. Truth be told Wallace had quit smoking in general. During his thrid marriage he had been up to a pack and a half a day, but now he didn't even smoke cigarrets, only a cigar occasionaly. In fact the one he had in his mouth was his first in over a month. If he hadn't tried to get rid of that man next to him, he probably would have never lit up today.

[towers]

Pandora woke up to the sound of her mother talking to someone on the computer. She didn’t know how long she had been sleeping, but it wasn’t long enough; her body was exhausted from the late night swim. The young girl sat up and glanced at her door; Determining if she was safe from any interruptions. After a few minutes, she leaned over to her nightstand and opened the drawer; pulling out an old leatherback book. It was a Bible; and it had belonged to her father long ago. Pandora opened the book to a page that had been bookmark and began reading.

Maze covered his mouth as he yawned. It took forever to get to the sublevels of the city and the only company he had was a patrol bot. Once they arrived at their destination, Maze cut in front of the machine. “Excuse me citizen.” Maze ignored the robot and continued walking towards two figures. Somehow, the fact that the machines were never rude, made Maze respected them a whole lot less. One of the two figures ahead was Detective Murphy; an old guy with not a lot to say, Maze liked that about him. “Since when do they let the elderly visit down here?” Maze said with a smile to the balding gentleman in front of him. “Fuck you” Was the elder’s only reply. Maze laughed and leaned over the low railing. “Long way down,” He mumbled.

The balding man with grey hair looked up from his paper work; he was taking note of the scene. “Pretty sure that’s where one of our robots went. The other is taking a nap a few feet behind me. Heads blown off” He explained before going back to his notes. Maze glanced behind the other detective at the hemp of metal. “Nice shot.” He said noticing the missing head; this meant there was no way to salvage his visual records. The other detective chuckled, “Maybe for you.” Maze mocked a laugh and walked past the other patrol bot to get a better look at Murphy’s Notes. “You think they made it to the city?” He asked as he tried to peek a look at the old man’s hand writing.

“Do your own paper work.” Murphy said as pulled his small notebook closer to his chest, as if protecting his precious from filthy greedy hobbitses. Maze lifted one side of his mouth in disappointment; he wanted to save time on his paper work by catching up with Murphy notes. The young detective walked past the old guy and looked around. He inspected the broken bot on the ground and noted the weapon used was a plasma pistol. Maze looked at his watch and then around his surroundings. He didn’t know how long this was going to take, but he was ready to leave already.

[DreamingForever]

Jacey let out a quiet laugh and ran a hand through her messy hair. It was a fruitless attempt seeing as her fingers got caught in the black tangles. “Yes, I did stay here last night. I…” she bit her lip, not wanting to seem naïve and foolish. People believed because she was so tiny and rather young that she had no thoughts or opinions. She sighed and continued, “I had a terrible feeling. I’m worried, Wallace.” She stared up at him, grey eyes reflecting her fear for the three who had not returned.

“I know it sounds stupid but I really do have a bad feeling.” She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity and tried to push the feelings aside. She watched him light a cigar and she raised an eyebrow. “And you know that isn’t very good for you, Wallace.” She scolded with a maternal expression.

It was strange to see a girl her age, and height if you were being truthful, scolding the grown man. She really couldn’t help it. She worried and fretted over the little of things, always wanting others to be healthy and safe. Most of the time she neglected to eat or sleep herself because she was attempting to take care of everyone else.

[Conquerer_Man]

"Ya, I know, if I've heard it once I've heard it a thousand times, smoking's bad for your health, but we're all allowed a vice every once in awhile, mine just happens be carcinogenic," Wallace smiled as he pulled the stogie out of his mouth and blew a cloud of smoke away from Jacy. Putting the end back in his mouth, pulled another drag from the large roll of tobacco. Holding it in his mouth for a few seconds, he released a second clouds soon after the first. Looking at it he thought it best to put it out for now and rubbed the end against the sole of his old combat boots.

Returning to what she said earlier, Wallace thought upon what she said. "I can't tell you your feelings wrong, but what are you going to do about it, just try and not to think about it, if it's to be than it's going to happen," Wallace explained, his hand stroking his grizzled chin in a thoughtful manner, "now that'll be two hundred dollars for this secession." Wallace stuck his hand out in a joking manner.

[Gabriel_Whist]

Judah Ben-Tov stood atop the Empire State Building, a hand rolled cigarillo slowly burning in his mouth, and the large column of ash threatened to fall of any second. Below him lay the city he had born in, Old New York. He laughed quietly to himself at the oxymoron, taking a puff from his cigarillo, and tapping the ash of into space. He was an old man, and he'd lead a hard life. He'd been at this for so very long, to long, and sometimes he just felt so tired, so weary of this world, and its problems. But he couldn't go to rest in peace like his darling Amaris, he could not yet see his beautiful daughter and upstanding son in law again. No, there was still life in these old bones, and people who needed him. Which reminded him, Ari would be waking up soon, and Judah didn't want him worrying that his last remaining relative had finally kicked the bucket as well. Still, it was nice to be alone for a while, away from all the people who depended on him, able to think in quiet of the better days, to let himself feel the heartache of his long life. He still missed the sunrise, after all these years, and this was about the only place he could see it with that blasted upper city blotting out light for the under city. Sighing deeply, the old man took a last pull of his cigarillo, and tossed the butt into space, following it soon after, a thick, heavy rope strapped to the caribeaner at his waist.

After he finished repelling down the face of the Empire State Building, something the old man did much swifter than one would expect, in a matter of minutes, he climbed into his rusting old pick up truck, an ancient relic, old even when he was young, and headed back towards the settlement. He and Ari lived in the vast and majestic main branch of the New York Public Library, located in Manhattan, not to far from Central Park, where Judah spent much of his time, farming, and dealing with the many people who came to him for help, advice, and to settle disputes. He often wished his old friend hadn't made him his second in command, being the right hand to the leader of the ressistance was a tiresome job. Yet, it was his duty to do all he could to secure a brighter future for his people. For his grandson. A brighter future than the one he had been given, brighter than the one.... he choked up for a minute as he thought this, clearing his gravelly old throat and shaking his head. Brighter than the one his daugher had been born into. He had failed her, but he would make a better world for his grandson. He would not fail again.

Ari awoke to the sound of his grandfather's truck pulling up outside their home. He had made his bedroom in an upper loft that had once contained countless books for research and reference, before they had been taken by the government and almost uniformly destroyed, so many years ago, long before Ari was born. It made for a nice bedroom though, the heater vent, when Judah got it working in the deep of winter, was at the foot of his bed, and kept him nice and warm when it was cold. It was roomy, and bright as a room could be down here, with many glass paned windows, and dusty old skylights. Best of all, though, was the large circular window that took up most of one wall, overlooking the street. Through it Ari liked to watch the sunset each night, counting off one more day survived, one more day in this cold, hard, and unforgiving world that had stolen so much from him.

Tossing back his sheets, Ari hopped out of bed, tugging on his jeans, a (semi) clean t-shirt, his army overcoat, and boots, before climbing onto the rolling ladder that was the only entrance to his bedroom, and, with a hard kick, sliding off down the libary on the well oiled tracks with a loud whoop. He hopped off to land in a graceful roll as he reached the entrance and ran outside to see his grandfather climbing out of the truck, and unloading supplies from the back. Firewood, mostly scrounged from the framework of abandoned buildings, and ancient decaying billboards, fresh fruit from the orchards. Ari's hopeful face fell into a dissapointed look of glumness. "Looks like breakfast is just gonna be fruit today.", he thought with an inward sigh. Judah noticed the change in expression on his young grandson's face, and his own weathered face cracked into a smile, wrinkles lining his face like cracks in the earth, and he pulled a small carton out of the cab of the truck, his eyes twinkling. Ari's face instantly lit up. "Eggs!" He crowed. "Thanks grandpa!" He ran to the old man, and hugged him hard around the waist. Judah chuckled, his deep laughter rolling from his throat, rich, and gravelly and full of character, like an ancient well spring, as he tossled his grandson's hair. "Go get them cooked up, we'll eat and then head over to the fields, see what work has to be done today." Ari nodded happily, and darted back off into the library, Judah following slowly, pulling his rifle back out of the rack in the truck and slinging it over his back, and his satchel off the front seat, slinging it over the opposite shoulder to rest at his hip, before heading in.

[DreamingForever]

Jacey chuckled and nodded once. “Alright, I agree. Everyone needs a vice or two.” She grinned at him and continued, “Anyways what are you doing here? Other than charging girls for advice.” She asked, her eyes reflecting back her question.

She sighed. “I guess your right. God chooses your path, we merely follow it.” She stared up at Wallace, her neck hurting considering his height. She knew only to well about God choosing the paths of others. He took her father’s life, but he had a reason. God always did.

((Sorry for lame post. So not feeling it right now. I apologize.))

[Music]

(Great job everyone. And only two days into the rp... I think that this will turn out well. In case no one noticed, Gabriel_Whist's character is the second-in-command of the Hand of God. So if he tells you to do something, you have to do it. :) And DreamingForever, I totally understand.)

When Elle came to, she was laying on an old park bench. She groaned as she sat up; every part of her body was sore. So she laid back and relaxed for a minute, trying to remember what had happened. Oh. Right. Kevin.

Forcing her protesting body to stand, she looked around. She was in Central Park, the only part of the Lower City that could still receive the sun's glorious rays. On the ground next to the bench was her pulse pistol. She picked it up and stowed it in its proper holster, overprotective of the weapon.

She had no idea how she had arrived here. The boy from the elevator was nowhere to be seen, and she still didn't know his name. She groaned slightly, this time frustrated that she had botched her mission so badly. Her goal had been to arm a small explosive that would have caused the malfunction of several robotic police, but she had failed. A comrade dead, a task incomplete... with her luck, the police had found the elevator and sealed it up.

She brushed the dust from herself, then looked around for one of the magno-buses that were used for transportation. Boarding the nearest one, she sat alone at the back. The other passengers avoided her, sensing her frustration and fear.

Finally, she arrived at headquarters; entering the building, she ignored everyone who was standing around and headed toward the receptionist's desk, hoping that she would have information or at least be able to direct her to the right place.

.....

Brace, watching as a pale girl with a dark brown braid entered the elevator, smirked. She was pretty enough, but he was preoccupied for now. Maybe later he would figure out which of the apartment complex's eight dining halls she ate dinner in when she felt like eating out instead of in.

Listening to the ding! when he had reached floor 200, which was where the streets intersected the building, he got off, smiling flirtatiously at the girl, then passed the receptionist robot, loving the innovation that robots gave, eliminating the need for useless jobs like waiters, factory workers, and chauffeurs.

After walking into the bright sunlight, he stepped into his vehicle, a red hovercar with an open top. Donning black aviator sunglasses, he drove toward the tallest buillding in the city. As he passed the overhang into its below-'ground' parking facility, he read the familiar sign: The Federation of American States.

After he had parked he walked to the nearest elevator, heading for the top floor in the entire city: 853. He sighed. Elevators. Today they were his thing.

[Lulu]

Sahara watched as the man exited the lift, looking over his black and red uniform, noting that the man obviously wasn't just a civillian. Shrugging off the thought, she fiddled with the zipper on her jumpsuit, almost pushing herself out of the lift before the doors even closed. Rounding the corner, she headed into the gym. There were many people here this time of morning, not her favourite time to be there, but she enjoyed the workout, the distraction, and the sleepiness that overtook her afterwards. Sleep. Sleep was good. She never felt like she got enough of it these days.

Stepping up on a treadmill, she put her communicator and water into the holder to the side, turning on the speed as she started at a light jog, watching the news on an overhead screen, only half paying attention. Her communicator buzzed, and she eyed it with a look of annoyance. Her brother, again, the third time this morning. Pressing the ignore button, she was relieved for the intrusive buzzing noise to quiet. Running on the treadmill, she headed to the cross trainer, then back to the treadmill. She beat out running until her legs were numb, and her chest felt constricted from shortness of breath. By this time, most of the other civillians exercising had well finished her workout. Unzipping her jumpsuit halfway, she looked through the partition to the pool. Really feeling like a cool-down, she headed to the pool, stripping off the jumpsuit as she slipped into the water, in bra, underwear and singlet. Starting to do laps, her limbs loosened up as she did slow easy strokes. One, two, one, two. Until her arms were against sore and sluggish, she lay on her back, floating in the water with her eyes closed, enjoying one of the rare times that she ever felt free, almost able to pretend that she was somewhere else.

After her long workout, and languid swim, she headed back to the damn elevator, pressing her floor a few times impatiently. Closing her eyes as she leaned her hip against the wall, she imagined the hot shower and comfortable sleep she'd be having when she got back to the apartment.

[Conquerer_Man]

"Thought I'd see if anything needed to be done, anything that maybe needed to disappear in a large and brilliant explosion," Wallace remarked smartly. He took an available chair and plopped down in it after he un strapped his demo gear. "And your self, what are you doing here?" Wallace asked the same.

When Elle strolled in though, she caught his attention slightly. The opening door and her quick pace weren't out of place in such a building of normal activity, but it was just how she carried her self that made him notice. She seemed defeated, frustrated. Having had three wives had helped Wallace pick up on the body language of a woman. Right now he figured it was best if he didn't do anything untill she needed him to do something for her.

((It's all good my friends, I understand.))

[DreamingForever]

"Well, I can assure you, your the first person we'd call if we needed something blown up!" She giggled and took a seat next to him.

She followed Wallace's gaze and noticed Elle. Alone. Jacey had wanted to spring up and run to her side, but she had fought the urge. Elle obviously didn't wanrt company and needed to talk to someone about her mission. She looked pissed off and sad.

Jacey turned to Wallace, eyes fearful. "You don't think anything happened, right?" She bit her lower lip, knowing something bad had happened.