Just a question, would we be allowed any sort of neural interface augs for a character? As in the character is a programmer or IT kind of person and this would be in place to help them do their job by directly linking them to a computer rather than typing. As for hacking, this would be a two way street, as the character themselves could have their brain hacked.
Just a question, would we be allowed any sort of neural interface augs for a character? As in the character is a programmer or IT kind of person and this would be in place to help them do their job by directly linking them to a computer rather than typing. As for hacking, this would be a two way street, as the character themselves could have their brain hacked.
Hmm... I'm still debating that idea in my head really... a few others have (or seemed to) propose similar ideas before... I'm not quite sure where I stand on "brain-hacking"... it would probably mean that either A) I come up with a cyber space sort of 'level' every time someone tries to hack something... or B) I come up with a separate set of rules for hacking. Hmm... I guess, if pressed, I'll go with A).
Already have one guy interfacing with machinery as part of his job... I guess I don't have a problem with someone else doing it too... as long as the jobs and characters are distinct enough. Hint: the other guy is basically a nuclear physicist/technician brought in to help get one of the fusion reactors up and running.
What was your idea, specifically?
Oh, and as for hacking, I'm afraid that unless you've got the military-grade version of that kind of aug, you can only access computers that your character already has access to, and even then, only the parts of that computer that you already have access to. If you want a military-grade aug, you have to be a soldier or a member of the VPD.
Or... a member of the criminal underground. But, that carries its own price with it. Your choice.
Appearance: He is a tanned and slightly overweight man of European descent with almost black hair speckled with grey. He usually wears expensive suits but in more causal situations dresses down into a shirt, always with an expensive watch though to remind others of his wealth.
Equipment: Aside from a simple watch and pen, Lionel always carries a high-tech bespoke mobile phone to keep in contact with his many employees and contacts, for obvious reasons this has the latest security features. He occasionally will take a laptop in a briefcase with him if he is expecting business. He also wears a solid gold cross around his neck to signify his Christian faith.
Cybernetics/Nano-Aug: None
Public Bio: Born in Vigil to one of the primary branches of the illustrious Wells family, Lionel seemed destined for success, especially when at a young age it became clear that he'd inherited the famously astute mind the Wells linage was known for. His mother and father divorced when he was five years old but remained on good terms with each other and shared custody of young Lionel. His father remarried a few years later.
Lionel studied Law in one of the U.S. top universities and then founded a law firm in New York with the financial backing of his father, marrying his wife Sophia in his early fifties. About three years ago, two years after the birth of his daughter Charlotte, Lionel's father unexpectedly suffered a heart attack and the major share of his business empire, the Northstar Corporation, in Vigil was left to Lionel and his family, who moved back to the Canadian city to take over.
Since his takeover of Northstar, Lionel has been working on a new project that was recently unveiled the public. He intends to build the new Northstar Mall complex in the centre of the lower city, complete with a church preaching his particular brand of Christianity to the poor "unsaved" masses. While his charitable efforts had endeared him to some of the locals in the past, tensions have arisen between the inhabitants of the lower city and Northstar employees due to their perceived abrasiveness, particularly in the impoverished Newark district where many homes will have to be demolished to make way for the new mall. Lionel received planning permission from the city authorities last month, many of whom he is good friends with and invited them round for dinner the evening before the decision. Newark district residents are angry at this apparent corruption in the authorities and have launched a class suit against Northstar, hoping that a court will overrule the decision and save their homes. The landmark court case will open very soon, with Lionel leading his own defence team against the aggrieved citizens.
Power: None
Occupation: CEO of Northstar Corporation, part-time solicitor
Hobbies: Reading and authoring political and law essays, playing rocket (a 22nd century originated game that bears some resemblance to golf), going on holiday with his wife and daughter, attending church.
Marital Status: Lionel has been married to his wife Sophia for the last eight years and the marriage has generally been happy despite the three decade age gap between the spouses. To read more about Sophia, see her sheet below.
Parents: His father was John Gibson-Wells, founder of Northstar and a descendent of the illustrious Gibson who founded Vigil, until he died of an unexpected heart attack in 2452 at the relatively young age of ninety four. His mother Emily Huntington and step-mother Sarah Gibson-Wells are both still alive at the ages of eighty three and seventy five respectively.
Children: One daughter Charlotte, to read more about her, see her sheet far below.
Medical health: Due to 25th century technology, despite being over sixty years in age, he appears to be mid-forties at worst. He wears contact lenses to correct for short-sightedness and isn't physically in the best shape.
Notes: Lionel is a Protestant Christian in belief and holds apparent superpowers to be the work of the devil, politically he is conservative both economically and socially, at least by 25th century standards. He is also morally opposed to many forms of body modification including cybernetics.
Full Name: Sophia Elizabeth Gibson-Wells
Age: 32
Birth date: 19th November, 2423
Appearance: Sophia is a stunningly attractive and well-groomed woman with blue eyes and long flowing natural blond hair. She tends to wear blouses and the latest fashionable skirts, as well as copious amounts of gold and silver jewellery.
Equipment: She is never seen without a handbag on her; always containing a purse, mobile phone and cosmetics in-case of an aesthetic emergency.
Cybernetics/Nano-Aug: None
Public Bio: Sophia was born to a British businessman and an American film star and spent most of her formative years in New York, along with one younger brother. In her teenage years her father's business empire collapsed and her family was forced to relocate to a smaller mansion, although they had enough savings to still be comparatively wealthy compared to most Americans. While Sophia was only attained mediocre grades at her private school, her beauty attracted attention from many of the rich young men she knew and at age twenty one she started dating her future husband Lionel, who at the time was already fifty and was running a successful law firm in New York. They married three years later and when Sophia was twenty seven, she gave birth to her only child Charlotte.
Since she became a mother, Sophia has not continued any of her past modelling work and has instead tried to raise her child to the best of her ability.
Occupation: Ex-model, house-wife
Hobbies: Meeting with friends, shopping, light reading, attending fashion shows, dressing up her daughter
Marital Status: Sophia has been married to her husband for the last eight years, to read more about Lionel, see his sheet above.
Parents: Her father is British businessman Oliver Dorchester and her mother American ex-actress Lindy O'Hara, aged a hundred and thirteen and eight nine respectively. Both continue to live in New York.
Children: One daughter Charlotte, to read more about her, see her sheet below.
Medical health: She has had minor plastic surgery twice, other than that nothing relevant.
Notes: Sophia has dual citizenship of United States and Canada, the former by birth and the latter by marriage to Lionel. In theory because of her father she could also claim British & EU citizenship; however she has never had the need to do so.
Full Name: Charlotte Sophia Gibson-Wells
Age: 5
Birth-date: 14th January, 2450
Appearance: Charlotte has pale white skin but with dark brown eyes and dark hair tied in bunches; she is average weight and height for her age. She prefers to wear girly clothes and it is rare to see her without at-least one pink item of clothing.
Equipment: None
Cybernetics/Nano-Aug: None
Public Bio: Charlotte was born in New York to Lionel and Sophia, who moved back to Vigil with her when she was aged two. In the first five years of her life she seems to have taken after her father rather than her mother in brains, starting to read aged four with the help of Maria. She has modelled a couple of times for magazine covers, however her boisterous nature meant it was a stressful experience for everyone involved. Charlotte has attended an expensive preschool for the last two years and is signed up to attend St. James' elementary school, the most renowned private school in all Vigil, from next September onwards.
Power: Charlotte has the power to change reality at will, to manipulate one kind of form into another... including living beings. She is limited in that matter and energy must be conserved however meaning she cannot create something out of nothing, or destroy something entirely. Furthermore in ways that are not entirely clear the use of Charlotte's powers are tied to her emotional state and while precociously intelligent for her age, she still lacks an understanding of cause and effect enough that she is potentially dangerous to both herself and others around her.
Power Origin: This is entirely a mystery to both Charlotte and her mother, despite ongoing research by the latter.
Occupation: Preschooler
Hobbies: Playing outdoors (specially with friends), playing virtual reality (VR) games, reading, singing and dancing to popular music.
Marital Status: Single, but "engaged" to preschool classmate Daniel Rosenburg.
Parents: Lionel and Sophia Gibson-Wells, see above sheets for more details.
Children: None (duh)
Medical health: Mild allergy to eggs
Notes: Like her mother Charlotte has dual citizenship between U.S. and Canada.
Woah, my sheets! Thanks for answering my earlier question by the way, one more for the record. Over the last few hours I've had an itch to make some lore (perhaps a map or a flag for example), do you mind if we create stuff like that or do you already have things in mind which aren't in the OP? Any creations could be put through you via PM if you want before being posted public if you wanted to review them.
Appearance: He is a tanned and slightly overweight man of European descent with almost black hair speckled with grey. He usually wears expensive suits but in more causal situations dresses down into a shirt, always with an expensive watch though to remind others of his wealth.
Equipment: Aside from a simple watch and pen, Lionel always carries a high-tech bespoke mobile phone to keep in contact with his many employees and contacts, for obvious reasons this has the latest security features. He occasionally will take a laptop in a briefcase with him if he is expecting business. He also wears a solid gold cross around his neck to signify his Christian faith.
Cybernetics/Nano-Aug: None
Public Bio: Born in Vigil to one of the primary branches of the illustrious Wells family, Lionel seemed destined for success, especially when at a young age it became clear that he'd inherited the famously astute mind the Wells linage was known for. His mother and father divorced when he was five years old but remained on good terms with each other and shared custody of young Lionel. His father remarried a few years later.
Lionel studied Law in one of the U.S. top universities and then founded a law firm in New York with the financial backing of his father, marrying his wife Sophia in his early fifties. About three years ago, two years after the birth of his daughter Charlotte, Lionel's father unexpectedly suffered a heart attack and the major share of his business empire, the Northstar Corporation, in Vigil was left to Lionel and his family, who moved back to the Canadian city to take over.
Since his takeover of Northstar, Lionel has been working on a new project that was recently unveiled the public. He intends to build the new Northstar Mall complex in the centre of the lower city, complete with a church preaching his particular brand of Christianity to the poor "unsaved" masses. While his charitable efforts had endeared him to some of the locals in the past, tensions have arisen between the inhabitants of the lower city and Northstar employees due to their perceived abrasiveness, particularly in the impoverished Newark district where many homes will have to be demolished to make way for the new mall. Lionel received planning permission from the city authorities last month, many of whom he is good friends with and invited them round for dinner the evening before the decision. Newark district residents are angry at this apparent corruption in the authorities and have launched a class suit against Northstar, hoping that a court will overrule the decision and save their homes. The landmark court case will open very soon, with Lionel leading his own defence team against the aggrieved citizens.
Power: None
Occupation: CEO of Northstar Corporation, part-time solicitor
Hobbies: Reading and authoring political and law essays, playing rocket (a 22nd century originated game that bears some resemblance to golf), going on holiday with his wife and daughter, attending church.
Marital Status: Lionel has been married to his wife Sophia for the last eight years and the marriage has generally been happy despite the three decade age gap between the spouses. To read more about Sophia, see her sheet below.
Parents: His father was John Gibson-Wells, founder of Northstar and a descendent of the illustrious Gibson who founded Vigil, until he died of an unexpected heart attack in 2452 at the relatively young age of ninety four. His mother Emily Huntington and step-mother Sarah Gibson-Wells are both still alive at the ages of eighty three and seventy five respectively.
Children: One daughter Charlotte, to read more about her, see her sheet far below.
Medical health: Due to 25th century technology, despite being over sixty years in age, he appears to be mid-forties at worst. He wears contact lenses to correct for short-sightedness and isn't physically in the best shape.
Notes: Lionel is a Protestant Christian in belief and holds apparent superpowers to be the work of the devil, politically he is conservative both economically and socially, at least by 25th century standards. He is also morally opposed to many forms of body modification including cybernetics.
Full Name: Sophia Elizabeth Gibson-Wells
Age: 32
Birth date: 19th November, 2423
Appearance: Sophia is a stunningly attractive and well-groomed woman with blue eyes and long flowing natural blond hair. She tends to wear blouses and the latest fashionable skirts, as well as copious amounts of gold and silver jewellery.
Equipment: She is never seen without a handbag on her; always containing a purse, mobile phone and cosmetics in-case of an aesthetic emergency.
Cybernetics/Nano-Aug: None
Public Bio: Sophia was born to a British businessman and an American film star and spent most of her formative years in New York, along with one younger brother. In her teenage years her father's business empire collapsed and her family was forced to relocate to a smaller mansion, although they had enough savings to still be comparatively wealthy compared to most Americans. While Sophia was only attained mediocre grades at her private school, her beauty attracted attention from many of the rich young men she knew and at age twenty one she started dating her future husband Lionel, who at the time was already fifty and was running a successful law firm in New York. They married three years later and when Sophia was twenty seven, she gave birth to her only child Charlotte.
Since she became a mother, Sophia has not continued any of her past modelling work and has instead tried to raise her child to the best of her ability.
Occupation: Ex-model, house-wife
Hobbies: Meeting with friends, shopping, light reading, attending fashion shows, dressing up her daughter
Marital Status: Sophia has been married to her husband for the last eight years, to read more about Lionel, see his sheet above.
Parents: Her father is British businessman Oliver Dorchester and her mother American ex-actress Lindy O'Hara, aged a hundred and thirteen and eight nine respectively. Both continue to live in New York.
Children: One daughter Charlotte, to read more about her, see her sheet below.
Medical health: She has had minor plastic surgery twice, other than that nothing relevant.
Notes: Sophia has dual citizenship of United States and Canada, the former by birth and the latter by marriage to Lionel. In theory because of her father she could also claim British & EU citizenship; however she has never had the need to do so.
Full Name: Charlotte Sophia Gibson-Wells
Age: 5
Birth-date: 14th January, 2450
Appearance: Charlotte has pale white skin but with dark brown eyes and dark hair tied in bunches; she is average weight and height for her age. She prefers to wear girly clothes and it is rare to see her without at-least one pink item of clothing.
Equipment: None
Cybernetics/Nano-Aug: None
Public Bio: Charlotte was born in New York to Lionel and Sophia, who moved back to Vigil with her when she was aged two. In the first five years of her life she seems to have taken after her father rather than her mother in brains, starting to read aged four with the help of Maria. She has modelled a couple of times for magazine covers, however her boisterous nature meant it was a stressful experience for everyone involved. Charlotte has attended an expensive preschool for the last two years and is signed up to attend St. James' elementary school, the most renowned private school in all Vigil, from next September onwards.
Power: Charlotte has the power to change reality at will, to manipulate one kind of form into another... including living beings. She is limited in that matter and energy must be conserved however meaning she cannot create something out of nothing, or destroy something entirely. Furthermore in ways that are not entirely clear the use of Charlotte's powers are tied to her emotional state and while precociously intelligent for her age, she still lacks an understanding of cause and effect enough that she is potentially dangerous to both herself and others around her.
Power Origin: This is entirely a mystery to both Charlotte and her mother, despite ongoing research by the latter.
Occupation: Preschooler
Hobbies: Playing outdoors (specially with friends), playing virtual reality (VR) games, reading, singing and dancing to popular music.
Marital Status: Single, but "engaged" to preschool classmate Daniel Rosenburg.
Parents: Lionel and Sophia Gibson-Wells, see above sheets for more details.
Children: None (duh)
Medical health: Mild allergy to eggs
Notes: Like her mother Charlotte has dual citizenship between U.S. and Canada.
Woah, my sheets! Thanks for answering my earlier question by the way, one more for the record. Over the last few hours I've had an itch to make some lore (perhaps a map or a flag for example), do you mind if we create stuff like that or do you already have things in mind which aren't in the OP? Any creations could be put through you via PM if you want before being posted public if you wanted to review them.
Cheers for clearing that up. Since I'm a fan of flags and enjoy making them, here's my proposal for the flag of Vigil:
The two horizontal bars represent the upper and lower city, whilst the star represents both the northern position of Vigil and the unity of it's people. The "U.N. blue" background represents the fact that it's inhabitants are descendants of immigrants from all over the world, and the red and white in the centre of the flag represents the city's Canadian identity.
Appearance: Shaggy brown hair, usually wearing his cheap suit and tie, always wears
black pants, brown eyes, he's also shaky and has the occasional twitches.
Equipment: An umbrella
Cybernetics: Pacemaker
Bio:Leon was the son of a cybernetics engineer. His parents pushed him to become one as well, and Leon showed promising signs that he might end up becoming one. During college he discovered his feelings for another student, Benny. They became inseparable and cared for each other alot. Tragically during Leon's second year of college, he had a brush with death during with a car accident, and required a pacemaker to survive. He also developed a few mental conditions, the strangest being the fact that he couldn't force himself to leave his apartment room. After a few years though, with the help of Benny he managed to do it and go outside. He still can't leave the city. Unfortunately that's not where his troubles ended. Because of his condition, Leon couldn't keep up with his education, and dropped out to become a secretary for Northstar's legal division. Benny eventually went on to study computer science and programming in another city. Depressed and alone, Leon tried to replace Benny with a woman he met in a cafe, who also spends her time programming. One day Benny came to visit.
Powers: Not exactly a power, but Leon is able to explore his own dreams, and sometimes control them. He worries about going into his own head however. His psychiatrist is starting to worry about him as well.
Power Origin: Leon believes that his power came from the accident.
Occupation: Secretary for Northstar.
Marital Status: Single
Children: None.
Medical Health: Physically pretty good, other than the occasional headache. Mentally Leon is a bit unstable. He is twitchy, doesn't react well to tense situations, and panics often.
Parents: Father is a cybernetic engineer, and his mother was a writer of marital and relationship support books.
Notes: Leon uses his dreams to enter a world where the rules are the same as most animals (except for the whole murdering thing). he uses it to get away from his problems. Lastly Leon also has a perverted boss that sometimes makes him have panic attacks. Because of what happened, he obsesses over repairing his faltering relationship with his girlfriend. He's often at malls trying to find a gift for her.
Name:Laurens van der Wal
Age: 27
Birth Date: 16-6-2428
Appearance: Standing at 1,80m tall, Laurens has short length brown hair and green eyes. Wears the latest in fashion glasses even thought he doesn't need them. Most of the time he wears a dark blue suit, with a white dress shirt and a red tie. Always carries his families signet ring on his left hands ring finger. Wears black shoes under his suit.
For more casual occasions, Laurens wears beige pants with a white dress suit, a blue blazer and brown loafers
Equipment: Latest model smart phone and a suitcase with a laptop and tablet in it.
Cybernetics: Civilian-grade Ocular implants
Occupation: Assistant of the Permanent Representative of the Netherlands, Margriet Naaktgeboren.
Prepares meetings for her, arrangers her agenda, gathers information for her, etc.
Hobbies: Likes going to bar's, cafe's and concert's. Has a extensive music collection at home. Practices Yoga.
Parents:
Father: Geert van der Wal Age: 49 Occupation: Baker
Mother: Nel van der Wal Age: 47 Occupation: Cashier at the local grocery store.
Laurens is extremely embarrassed of his parents as they are in his eyes, just common folk and he is not.
Marital Status: Single
Medical Health: Perfect health
Notes keep hidden
Laurens suffers from a addiction to the drug Oil Sand.
Can go for 3 days with out it before suffering withdrawal effects. Might be a idea to roll for what effects he will get.
(exactly what effects and the rules behind them are between me and Shanaar for the moment)
Public Bio: Coming from a lower class neighbourhood in the city of Rotterdam, Laurens was fond to be a bright lad by his high school and could go to the university afterward he was finished with it. Opting to stay close to home, Laurens went and studied at the Erasmus University. There he made contact with some people who worked for the government who gave guest lectures there. After getting his Master in economics, Laurens was offered a job at the ministry of Foreign Affairs. There he worked him self to become the personal assistant of Margriet Naaktgeboren. When she was offered to job of become the Permanent Representative of the Netherlands for the UN, Laurens was asked if he wanted to follow her there and keep his job being he personal assistant. Laurens agreed to this and has been staying in Virgil for 3 years now.
While working as the personal assistant, Laurens is busy trying to make contact with as many Representative's as possible. He is actually after the job of his boss and hopes with making the right connections, to make this possible.
In his first year on Vigil, Laurens met a guy at a bar where he hit it of with. That night he was asked if he wanted to try something new and cool. Saying yes as he was always in for some fun, Laurens was given Oil Sand. After a couple of nights like this and using it each time, Laurens had to go away for a week. At the end of the week, Laurens wasn't feeling so good and was shaking a lot. Calling his friend to tell him he couldn't make it tonight, his friend told him that he knew what would help. Coming to his home, his friend offered him some more Oil sand. Refusing at first but after sometime he tried it anyways. After using it he felt much better and the next morning he wasn't shaking anymore. After that he continued using it till one time his friend told he had to start paying for it. Refusing it, his friend then told him that he had become addicted to it and that he would see him again. After 3 days, Laurens called him feeling horrible and saying that he would pay him the damn as long as he gave him the damn stuff.
Notes:
Oil Sand
A almost oil like liquid that is colour black.
It is sold in 50ml bottles and is consumed by drinking it all in one go.
It causes one to feel everything more intenser than it actually is. Food becomes tastier, sound becomes better, colours become brighter, etc.
Because of this, it is mostly used in cafe's, bar's and certain pleasure centre's as well.
Studies are still being done to determine how harmful the stuff might be. So for now, it's legal.
Name: Maria Taylor
Age: 157 (looks to be in her mid 60's to us)
Birthdate: June 8th, 2298
Appearance: Almost red-rose tinted skin, gray hair with small streaks of its former orange-peel hue here and there, about 5'10",
vibrant green eyes (completely untouched by age), round cheeks, average-sized nose that curls up at the end,
all other aspects of her face and body spell out 'average'. When working at the diner or for the Gibson-Wells family, she wears
a plain black skirt, and a plain black business shirt. When at the diner, she wears a red bowtie. When working at the Gibson-Wells'
penthouse, she wears a white apron. She wears a pair of half-rim glasses at all times. She carries a medium-sized black purse everywhere she goes.
She can't walk in heels, so she walks around in slip-ons. Her legs are wrapped in what she calls a "leg-warmer", but looks
like a series of scarves sewn together. Scarves that look like they were made by a grade-school child or two. She speaks with a heavy Irish accent.
Equipment: computerized reading glasses (its readout is largely unitelligible to anyone but the user, unless its plugged into a larger display),
a black purse, a small pistol for self-defense (with a permit right next to it), a VPD-grade taser (which she also has a permit for), a collection of
fine quality pens, a fairly large journal (barely fits in the purse with everything else in it), 5 extra rouns for the pistol (it does have near unlimited ammo, like anything else, but... never hurts to be prepared, right?),
and usually at least one children's book or coloring book for Charlotte.
Cybernetics: None.
Nano-Augs: None.
Public Record: Maria was born to Clarise and Vernon Upton, in a very poor neighborhood with no prospects or hope of escape. Then, one day, the Gibson-Wells started expanding their foundries into her neighborhood, and her parents
suddenly found minimum-wage work at said foundries. As she grew up and went to school, she quickly took to reading and writing, and began devouring books and filling entire encylopedia serieses worth of notes and observations on whatever she
happened to be reading at the time. She did very well in just about every subject (except PE or Art), but in spite of her achievements, she simply could not afford to go to school at the wages her parents were making. So she went to work at a local diner to raise funds,
and did rather well there, and she hid all of her earnings under her mattres, in her journals, in other piles of paper scattered around her room (technically, it was her parents' bedroom, but they were hardly ever in), and all just about anywhere else she could think of.
But, around her 16th birthday, when she had just started applying to some different colleges, her parents found all of the money she had been saving, and used it to buy enough drugs to kill a rhino. And they immediately proceeded to overdose on all of it. Leaving their daughter
all alone, and again without any prospects or hopes of escaping the shit-hole neighborhood she had been born in. Unwilling to live there any longer though, she decided to gather up her notes (cleaning off and restoring the ones that her parents had messed up during their last bad trip),
into a heavy-duty trash bag, and got on the first tram that would take her... anywhere else really. She kept wandering like that for years, doing oddjobs here and there to survive, but never really staying in one place for too long. Often visiting libraries to add more notes to her collection.
The infamous Oil Spill Riots started when she was 17, and despite her situation, she couldn't really find herself sympathizing with either side. Certainly not the rich; to her, they were all just faceless money-hoarders. The middle class was just... not something she'd ever really thought that much about to begin with.
And the poor... well... she hated the poor and hated being poor. By the time she was 24, the Riots had gone into full-swing, and during one of her many, many free public tram sojourns, the tram stopped in one of the many mid-air tunnels that help form Vigil's skyline. Not seeing much else to do, she got out her notes and read over them,
occasionally making corrections. When she finished, and the tram still hadn't moved, she looked out the window to see the whole of Lower Vigil completely flooded (even the, up until then, "completely flood-proof" Central Spire, and to see, even through the narrow streets, every street in Lower Vigil flooded with crude oil... it was simply a sight no one should ever see.
During that time she was trapped up there with arond 400 other passengers, one of them had been reading over her shoulder as she worked, and as the tram eventually started moving again, he offered to buy her notes for his publishing company to adapt into a series of literary criticism anthologies. He gave her his business card, and a few weeks later, after the Riots had finally cooled down and reconstructive efforts had begun,
Maria went into the publisher's office and he offered her a substantial ammount of money, and a gauranteed scholarship to the university of her choice. Being somewhat unaware of the concept of royalties, and completely overwhelmed by the offer, Maria agreed. Turns out, the money he gave her just barely lasted long enough to help pay off the college debts she had incurred even with the scholarship... and completely without copyright to her own work.
But, rather than give up, she just applied for every job she could think of in the hopes of netting something that might work for a Lit. major. Eventually, she was hired by the Gibson-Wells family to be the Governess of their home. Its not a bad job, but it certainly wasn't what she was expecting to end up with either. For now, she is content to look after Charlotte... and so she tries to do whatever she can to make sure Charlotte doesn't grow up into yet another spoiled rich kid.
Powers: None.
Power Origins: N/A.
Occupation: Governess for the Gibson-Wells family.
Hobbies: reading, writing, playing games with Charlotte.
Likes to catch a movie every now and then. Usually fantasy, comedy... rarely horror.
For the most part, she can't stand poetry... but there is one poet she likes. She never names him or her, but quotes her/him on occasion.
Parents: Dead. Nothing really worth mentioning about them.
Marital Status: Widowed.
Children: One daughter, Mel. But, go anywhere near her, and Maria will at the very least give you a stern talking-to. At worst, she might straight up murder you. It depends on how you planned to treat Mel, really.
Medical Health: Despite her drug abusing parents' best efforts, Maria is in excellent health, and has stayed away from any kind of drug completely.
Although, she does suffer from occasional bouts of depression, and occasionally tears just randomly escape her vibrant green eyes.
If she could be said to have a vice or addiction... it is to caffeine. She'll take it from almost any source, but her personal favorite is a high-sugar, high-caffeine absinthe-green soda called Mesa Dew.
She has a mild allergy to chocolate; eating it puffs up her cheeks quite a bit.
Full Name: Christine "Chris" Navidson
Age: 47 (barely looks 24 to us)
Birth Date: January 18th, 2418
Appearance: Shoulder-length, dark brown hair that she lets fly loose; it stays fairly straight most of the time, though it occasionally curls up at random intervals along its length.
For work, she wears a knee-length khaki skirt, a black business shirt, a light brown jacket, some subtle touches of makeup meant to accentuate her petite facial features, and a pair of very light brown high heels.
When not at work, she wears a thick pair of light blue jeans, a black t-shirt (usually with some snarky comment on it), a pair of functional and fashionable snow boots, thick full-fingered red gloves, a dark red trenchoat, and a small black trilby with a red pen stuck into it. (She also wears that outfit when reporting on something outside)
In either case, she wears a simple silver locket with a simple silver chain around her neck. She speaks in a very well practiced "BBC English" accent at work, and a heavy "Vigil" accent at all other times.
Equipment: a medium-large sized purse/satchel, a digital camera (does both still photos, and video with full audio; it can even transmit directly to the studio if she can get a decent signal), a can of pepper spray, a low-grade taser (enough to stun someone and give her time to run or punch them out, but it won't knock them out),
a digital tape recorder (no actual tape involved, it sends everything recorded on it to three different cloud data storage accounts; two accounts are public, one is private; she can set which account/s the latest entry will be sent to), a holo-tablet, a swiss-army knife, plenty of flash drives to store photos and video on,
an on-the-go makeup kit, a fashion mag she occasionally shoots/models for, a porn mag she occasionally shoots/models for, a notebook she uses to keep contact information on, a stack of business cards bound in a rubber-band, and a small plush rabbit. (she calls it "President Max")
Cybernetics: None.
Nano-Augs: Civilian occulars.
Public Bio: Born to a middle-class family of mostly teachers, Chris has had a pretty good life. And even though she grew up in a nice neighborhood (for Lower Vigil anyway),
she's always been aware of the problems many in Lower Vigil face every day, and always wanted to do something to help them. But... she didn't want to become a cop, far too risky;
she didn't want to become a teacher either, in spite of its comfortable pay and highly respected position in society; and she sure as HELL didn't want to get into business or politics...
and thus, she didn't have much clue what she wanted to do with her life. At least until high school, when she got involved with the school newspaper, and immediately took to photo and video journalism.
She also proved adept at interviews. She majored in journalism and stayed in college until she got a doctorate in the subject. (she finished her doctorate about 12 years ago)
About 3 years later she paid off all of her student loans. A few months after that, she put herself on the map as a top and highly sought after freelance photo/video journalist with a pulitzer prize-winning
photo of a tiny Lower Vigil homeless child saving an Upper Vigil brat from drowning in oil. She's worked in a large number and variety of publications since then. She's also done a little modeling every now and then, just for the hell of it.
Her current main gig is a talk-show she hosts for the Northwestern Times.
Powers: She knows instantly if someone is lying to her. Trouble is, this knowledge registers with her as a high-pitched rining noise in her head...
and as a result, she hates being around politicians, sociopaths, and other frequent/compulsive liars because after a few minutes, she starts to hear nothing but the
high-pitched ringing sound, and continues to hear it for several hours afterwards. Fortunately, her ability doesn't seem to pick up lies that have been recorded, so she can still conduct interviews as long as she records them.
She has no control of this ability; its ALWAYS on.
(from a gameplay perspective, this means that whenever any of your characters lie to her, you'll tell me in a PM and she'll get the ringing sound. However, she only knows that you're lying about SOMETHING, not exactly what.
Which means it is possible to fool her even when she knows you're lying. You just have to be clever about it. Also means that you shouldn't tell me in the PM exactly WHAT your characters are lying about. Just tell me they're lying about something in a given conversation with her and that'll be that)
Power Origin: She honestly has no clue. But, she likes to think it was an unforeseen consequence of one time in college where she experimented with marijuana, LSD, and group-sex. None of which really worked out for her either way.
Occupation: She's a freelance journalist. Highly sought-after, she's frequently working for one employer or another. Her current main gig is with the Northwestern Times. (read: she's been with the Times for about a year and a half straight)
Hobbies: going to the movies, going to clubs, drinking someone under the table, flirting (just for the hell of it),
dancing (she's okay at it), singing (she's rubbish at it... sober), walking around Vigil.
Parents: Both of her parents, Timothy and Laura Navidson are alive and well. Tim is 97 (born May 4th, 2358), Laura is 110 (born 2345), both are still teaching. Tim's an elementary school teacher, Laura's a high school drama teacher.
Chris gets along well with her parents and they get in touch often.
Marital Status: Single.
Children: None.
Medical Health: In pretty good shape. Although, she hasn't been sleeping very well for the past month.
She keeps having very odd dreams, often wakes up in the middle of the night screaming. Though she keeps herself
going with a lot of soda and energy drinks, her insomnia is starting to take its toll on her.
Notes: The reason for her nano-aug is in her secret bio.
EDIT:
Here are the last of the sheets I've gotten up to this point. We're starting.
And JoJo, love the flag. Thanks. I really like how there seems to be a clear barrier between the two halves of the red. Very nice touch.
Right, as I said... we'll start as soon as I get the group page going... and repost all of the current sheets there.
Also... I'm going to allow anyone to post news (if that's even possible) onto the group page so that anyone can post lore if they like... or to simply post a warning that they might be out for a bit or something.
If it's lore, PM the material to me BEFORE you post it on the group page. Thank you.
Central Spire/Gibson-Wells District, Lower Vigil, Northwestern Territories, Canada. March 20th, 2455. 11:15 AM; Northwestern Times News Room/studio; Chris Navidson reporting
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, I'm Chris Navidson and this is the midday edition of the Northwestern Times," I begin, speaking in a clear and thoroughly practiced voice as I shuffle some blank sheets of paper around the desk, "Today's weather is the same as it always is: freezing cold with a... remote chance of blizzard as the first signs of Spring start to crop up. In entertainment, the most highly anticipated horror film of the century will finally see release in a few days, and we have an interview scheduled with the minds behind the first ever film adaptation of the hit 21st Century cult-classic, The House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, set aside for later this evening. A rabid controversy is spreading through the sports community when the news broke out that Lag has officially been added to the Olympic games and..."
I press my right hand to my ear as I receive a tip from the hidden ear-piece.
"This just in, the VPD have located another body matching the MO of the Brain-Melter," I hate that title, we've got no business giving titles to murderers, "As with the previous victims, the body of one Janice Kapp was found dead, displayed on an apparently random person's coffee table. While it is still too early to tell, Homicide expects that the autopsy will confirm that the body is completely brain-dead. In other news, the Korean Union has finally deigned to send an ambassador to meet with the UN over the decades-long dispute over the UN's decision to withhold the plans for fusion reactors like the ones that supply all of Vigil with clean, safe, and free energy."
Another hour or so of this to go. I hate doing news like this. Feels so... disjointed... so removed from the real world. Oh well. Helps pay the rent at least.
Leon Florzeni, Café sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455; 11:15 AM
As I approach my destination:Cafe sous le lueur d'espoir I begin thinking.
So this is the place? Rosy told me to come here when I get the chance, its much safer and cleaner to socialize here than in a bar. Time to get something to drink I guess.
And then my worries began, I never really learned how to control them, only how to not make them someone else's problem. I end up moving in place, but then the mother of all worries comes to me. What if My boss is here!?
On second thought, what if their prices are too high, or if boss is there!? OH GOD NO! Not him, he's everywhere. I swear he is! What if he arranged that I go here so he can stalk me easier? No, not going in. I'll stay outside until I calm down at least.[small]please don't be here, please don't be here.[/small] Why would Rosy do this to me!? Maybe if I get her a gift, she wont do it again. That one horror movie, maybe that, yes, she'd like that I bet. SHE'S MAKING MY LIFE A HORROR MOVIE RIGHT NOW.
Laurens van der Wal, Café sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455; 11:20 AM
While sitting at one of the tables drinking some tea, my Boss called me.
Picking it up, she didn't even say hello or something, no she started already talking about that damn ambassador.
"Yes Margriet, I know that the ambassador for the Korean Union is coming. But just like the last time I told you, I don't know when they will arrive. Heck, I don't even know if the ambassador is a she or he. I even talked with that creep of the Chine's ambassador and even they don't know anything.
Yes I know that, but if even they don't know that, than that basicly means no one knows till they show up here. Oke, Oke. I will do that.
Remeber, you got the German and Deense ambassador coming at around 15:00 to talk about the Waden islands and your dinner has been booked with that guy at that place you wanted. Oke see yeah, I got to finish some stuff here first." Hanging up my phone and grabbing my head and shaking it slowly.
Why must she be such a pain in the butt sometimes. No ones knows anything about them, but nooooo she thinks I can move Heaven and Earth and find out who they are.
Letting go of my head, I grabbed my cup of tea and started looking through some of the news items on the laptop in front of me.
Michelle Daniels, District 14, 914 Overlook Drive, Lower Vigil, Northwestern Territories, Canada. March 20th, 2455. 11:25 AM
I sighed as my eyes slid one last time over the scene of the crime. Or at least where the crime ended up. It was a nice house. Owned by nice enough people, understandably put off by finding the corpse of some early-teenage girl they didn't know in their living room.
It was a nice living room. Bigger than mine, pictures of family and friends, fair entertainment system... that was the only part I could claim I had over them. Comes with living by yourself, I suppose, even if I don't use it as much as I should.
The body was gone, thank God. Autopsy had her now. Though the smell wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. At the very least, they'd need to replace the carpet and table. As usual, the place was virtually undisturbed. Literally the only thing out of place was the tape marking where the poor kid was found, and the fact that there wasn't anything on the table it marked.
I didn't even know why I was still there. We had combed the place top to bottom while we were there en masse, and hardly found anything not belonging to the victim or the innocent family. I honestly couldn't tell you what I hoped to find. Maybe I was just hoping for divine inspiration, or that the perp was dumb enough to come back to the scene of the crime while a cop was there.
The family that owned the house were in a nearby hotel (mostly due to the smell), but they didn't want to talk to anyone right then. Neither did the parents of the girl. I couldn't blame them. I took out my phone and sent them both an email, which boiled down to, "Here's my number, call me if you can think of anything you can tell me about what happened." I also put in a personal apology. It didn't do any good, but it made me feel better. I like to think it helped them a bit, too.
Sighing again, I turned to leave. There was nothing here but tape and that damn smell. Eventually, even that would be gone. But not for long... soon enough, I'd be doing this all again. Same thing. Different houses, different faces, different victim... same damn thing. It was enough to drive a woman to drink.
I started walking back toward the tram to get back to the office. Might as well tell them I couldn't find anything new.
Lionel Gibson-Wells, Morwood University of Vigil, Gibson District, March 20th, 2455, 11.30 AM
"...and that is the end of my lecture on the state of capitalism in the 25th century, thank you for having me here today as a guest speaker. Any questions?"
I let out a deep sigh of relief as an hour of public speaking finally drew to a close, I couldn't wait to be out of the stuffy lecture theatre and regretted accepting the director's offer to speak in the first place. The students opposite me probably felt the same way, despite being a patchwork of different colours and non-conforming hair styles, their faces all shared the same melancholy expression of having suffered an hour of boredom. All except one.
I groaned inwardly when I noticed the solitary hand raised above the throng of youth, as if in defiance of her peer's apathy. The girl looked to be about twenty, her cap jauntily balanced on one side of her unkempt mane and a row of studs lining her bottom lip. I could already tell just from her appearance she was going to be one of those self-righteous left-wing activist types who seem to emerge spontaneously from college populations. With a sinking feeling, I nodded in her direction.
"Yes?"
"What are your thoughts on the families due to be evicted from a number of streets in the Newark district if the city courts give permission for your corporation to start work on your new mall?"
It was a monster of question, I don't doubt that she'd likely been waiting the entire session to say it but I wasn't going to give the girl the satisfaction of putting me in a corner. Luckily I had an answer ready prepared for questions like these.
"It is firm Northstar policy not to comment on legal proceedings without consulting our attorneys and legal department first, thank you for your concern though..."
With that I barrelled out of the door before anyone had a chance to delay me further and strode down the corridor, eager to make my escape before the place was filled with students. I checked my phone briefly, nothing important, just a couple of texts from my wife. I quickened my pace further, I wouldn't hear the end of it this lunch if I was late to meet her and Charlotte yet again.
.
Sophia Gibson-Wells, Tram Platform 94, District 11, March 20th, 2455, 11.45 AM
I don't know whether it was his perfectly chiselled jaw, his tantalisingly unbuttoned shirt, or his confident stride, which made me notice him first. Beneath his clothing barely concealed muscles rippled, golden brown whenever fabric ended. A leather briefcase causally hung from one arm. For a second he glanced in my direction and gave me just a hint of a smile, then like every other stranger on the busy platform he was gone, lost among a churning sea of humanity.
"Mama, Mama!"
The piercing cry of my daughter brought me back to reality. She sat on the bench next to me with a Pretty Pony magazine spread across her lap, looking up indignantly with her dark wide eyes.
"Mama, when is Papa going to be here?"
"I don't know honey, soon I hope..." I replied wearily, mentally preparing myself to hear the question at-least five more times. To my extraordinary relief, at that very moment my pale doughy husband materialised from the crowd.
"Papa!" Charlotte shrieked and jumped up to hug her father, letting her magazine fall in a heap onto the pavement. I picked it up, impressed as always by the progress my daughter was making with her reading. You wouldn't have guessed that she wasn't even due to start school for another six months.
After Lionel finally extracted himself from our five year old's sticky grasp, we briefly embraced as parents do and then taking one of Charlotte's hands each, we made our way to the café for lunch.
.
Charlotte Gibson-Wells, Café sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455, 11.50 AM
Midnight Glitter is my favourite pony, ever since I was three when I first watched Pretty Pony. She's the smartest pony who lives in a library and all the other ponies come to ask her for help with things and she's not just smart but also really pretty and has lots of friends. She's got black hair like me too. Mama had just asked me what I want to eat for lunch because we were at a cafe with Papa so I was thinking what Midnight Glitter would have.
"Uh, I want spaghetti..." I mumbled, then remembering when Maria taught me quickly added "please!"
Mama said what I want to the waiter so I turned around in my seat to see what was happening around the café but everything was boring to look at. The people were boring, the food was boring, even the animals were boring! There was a man with an umbrella on the table next to us but he wasn't even doing anything, he was just holding his head in his hands. I stared at him for a while but he didn't do anything different. It was the worst café I'd ever been to.
Laurens van der Wal, Café sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455; 11:55 AM Where is that damn waiter? I want to pay already. It isn't as if I am in France or something.
Looking around for a waiter, I spotted something familiar. That face, I have seen that face before but where?
Booting up my laptop, I noticed that I still had 10% power left. That would leave me with only 1 hour of battery power left. Hoping that the accesses code I was given for the wifi still worked, I tried to login only to find out it had expired.
"OOOH COME ON! REALLY?" I shouted in frustration.
Getting out my phone, I set it to personal hotspot. There go's my phone bill.
After a couple of minutes searching I finally fond out where I had seen that face before. It was on my bosses list of people she wanted to meet, Mister Lionel Gibson-Wells. Every time I tried to contact him, I got stonewalled by that blasted secretary of his. Well she isn't here now, so I win you b*tch.
Standing up, I first retrieved one of my businesses cards from my bag before making my way towards him, leaving my bag and laptop behind on the table. Wouldn't want them to think I would go a way without paying now would I?
"Eeehhhmmm, excuses me sir. But do you happen to be Sir Lionel Gibson-Wells?"
Leon Florzeni, Café sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455; 12:00 PM
I watch as a man who was shouting earlier walk over to a very familiar man. I fixed my posture and gave a quick smile to the girl at their table who was staring at me. I didn't want to seem like a creeper to the big man. I enter the cafe and order myself a cappuccino and take a seat at a table near who I think is Mr.Gibson-Wells.
You know you almost couldn't find your wallet when you needed to pay, don't mess up again. Standing in one place screwing around doesn't seem to give you many respect points either. I will wait to talk to to him when he is able to talk, don't want to force my stupidity on someone else ahead of time.
I notice that I'm staring at the group, and turn away. I look down at my drink, it has a little heart on the top, how cute.
Ok, I got the chance to improve my quality of life, all I have to do, is tell Mr.Gibson-Wells about Boss and he'll no longer be a threat to me!
Suddenly, I remember seeing a Pretty Pony magazine on the table, a show which I had seen Rosy watch one day after I came back home. I was surprised because the show was for a much younger age group. I didn't say anything about it because she might have gotten mad at me, what if I research that show so we can watch it together one day?
Maria Taylor. Cafe sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455. 12:05 AM.
I look around at the tables to see if anyone's in my section today. Mr. Gibson-Wells looks to have deliberately sat just outside of my section... again. He hates acknowledging that I exist in public. I'm not really surprised, I just forgot for a moment. Oh, looks like we've got a few new people in... and they're both in my part of this dive. Works for me I guess. I walk over to the nervous looking man that decided to sit dangerously close to Lionel's booth. Poor fool, he has no idea what he's trying to get himself into. I cough politely to announce my presence to him once I reach his table.
"Afternoon sir," I begin putting every bit of squeaky-clean charm into my voice, "My name is Maria and I'll be your waitress for today," I try my damndest not to gag on my own tongue, "Have you had a chance to look at the menu yet? Today's special is..." I glance back at the sign behind me, "The Vigil Kitchen Pizza Burger."
Leon Florzeni, Café sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455; 12:10 PM
I feel my heart beat slightly increase, and I slowly turn around hoping for the best. Noticing its not Boss, I respond to the woman talking.
"Hello, my name's Leon, I hadn't had the chance to look at the menu yet the Pizza Burger seems like a weird concept to me though"
"Yeah," the waitress nods her head sympathetically, "It's apparently a classic dish served to drunks... I mean, 'alcohol-specific impulse control deficit' customers."
She pauses for a moment to look behind her sheepishly.
"So... umm...," her smile wavers a bit, "Anything I can get you?"
I became a little suspicious of the woman because of the way she paused and changed her tone.
"Ummmm, anything you would recommend?"
"Hmm... I'd go with the chicken club sandwich or the Lower Vigil Steak, you could even get an omelet with your choice of ingredients if you like."
"Seems like the chicken sandwich is a good choice, yeah I'll go with that."
"Good choice sir," she picked up the menu from my table with a thin smile, "I'll get that for you right away. Oh... would you like another coffee?"
I responded
"Nah, I don't need another coffee. Thank you by the way. So, I noticed Mr.Gibson-Wells is eating here you planning on meeting him or something?"
She tries and fails to contain a quiet laugh.
I give the waiter a strange look.
"What's um, what's so funny?
"Sorry sir," she looks back at me with a completely neutral expression, "My main job is with him and his family. This place is a part time job to help pay the bills."
I felt my face attempt to contort into a stupid look of surprise; I tried to keep it straight.
"You work with Mr. Gibson-Wells? So do I...in a way I work as a secretary for his legal department. It?s nice to meet you!"
She beams at me after a second.
"Nice to meet you too Mr..." she offers me her hand.
I accept her hand shake offer.
"Florzeni, Mr.Florzeni. Pleased to meet you. Do you work in Northstar?"
"Uhh... sorry Mr. Florenzi, but I'm just his daughter's governess..."
Then, in a hushed, whispered tone, "Truth be told, Mr. Gibson-Wells usually pretends that I don't exist."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Is it any fun taking care of his daughter?"
"She's a bright young lady," she goes on, "A little shy though; I'm trying to help her out of that shell she's built up around herself."
As she says that, her eyes seem to unconsciously flit in Mrs. Gibson-Wells' direction.
I ask her if something is the matter.
"Is everything okay?"
"Hmm? Oh fine, just fine sir. Thank you for asking. Well... it's been nice chatting with you, but I'd better go bring your order to the kitchen."
And with that, she heads for the kitchen and shouts my order when she gets there.
I then check to see where my wallet is to prevent another mishap where I don?t have it in time. I fail to find it.
OH PERFECT! Now how will I pay for the sammich!?
This post was made by Doc and me in a chat. He played the role of his character, and I played mine.
Michelle Daniels, District 14, Tramway 1445, Lower Vigil. March 20th, 2455. 12:10 PM
I paced around the platform, one arm crossed over my chest while my other hand played with my ear stud as I waited for my tram. Every once in a while, I'd pat the special part of my jacket that held my sidearm just to make sure it was still there. I didn't need to check for my shotgun; that was practically taped to my leg, hidden by my baggy jeans. So long as nobody bumped into me, at least. Both were deceptively easy to reach through special pockets. Good thing, or it'd defeat the purpose of having a gun.
Thank God, it's time for lunch, I thought, checking my watch for the third time since I walked in four minuets ago. Geez. What ever happened to cars? Those looked practical and efficient. Instead, I'm stuck waiting for damn trains all the time. Ugh.
I took out my phone again and wrote up a quick message to the brass, telling them I couldn't find anything new and that I was going out for some lunch at a local cafe while I was out. I also asked if anyone wanted anything, even though I knew they'd most likely already gotten some takeout or something. It was probably pizza, too. They always seemed to get pizza while I was out. It's like they know I love it, and they want to torture me or something. Whatever, I'll just get some for dinner later. That'll show 'em.
I never cared for tramways. Too many tight-packed people, too dirty, too many bright, colorful, brainless advertisements telling me things I didn't care about. My special optical implants didn't do the "dirty" part of that any favors, either. I counted no less than twenty-seven gum wrappers on the floor--nope, twenty-eight.
There's a perfectly good trashcan not ten feet away from you, idiot, I yelled in my head. A headache started forming. I could only pray it didn't turn into another migraine. I wasn't sure how many pills I had left.
Finally, my tram showed up. I wasted no time getting aboard and finding a seat that didn't have leftovers on it. I crossed my legs and waited to start moving again...
Lionel Gibson-Wells, Café sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455; 11:55 AM
Once we had ordered I sat back in my chair and observed the café lazily. The place was fairly typical: shining metallic tables, faded sun umbrellas, laminated menus, a small playground far over on the other side. Overall it wasn't bad, a little down-market from the sort of places I usually ate but according to one of Sophia's friends the food was worth it, plus it was cheap as anything. I noticed that my wife seemed to be distracted by something.
"Is everything okay dear?" I asked gently, placing a hand on her palm.
"Sure, I'm fine," she replied briskly, swatting away the question like an unwanted fly. For the last few weeks she hadn't been her usual bubbly self, but whenever I broached on the matter she changed the subject, or just clammed up entirely. I didn't know what to think.
"Papa, Papa, can I go and play over there?"
Charlotte has evidently noticed the playground too.
"Sure little C, just say where we can see you," I replied quickly, not wanting my chain of thought to be broken. It looked like I was out of luck that day though as no sooner as my daughter had scampered off, a man wearing fashionable glasses and suit approached the table.
"Eeehhhmmm, excuses me sir. But do you happen to be Sir Lionel Gibson-Wells?"
"Yes, although I haven't had the pleasure to be knighted yet, Mr..." I replied with a warm smile, though inside I was fuming. Could I never have a family meal in peace? I had to keep up a pretence of friendliness though as I didn't recognise the man and I couldn't risk alienating a useful ally or a member of the press.
.
Charlotte Gibson-Wells, Café sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455; 12:00 PM
I bounced off to the playground, putting a skip in my step as I went. It was quite small but there only other kid around so there was lots of room. I ignored him since he was a boy and all boys except Daniel are annoying. I slid down the slide a few times and then started hanging on the monkey bars, one of my shoes fell off but I didn't care, I just kept on hanging on. Maria says I'm good at these because I don't give up on stuff.
Isabella O'Connor, Causeway 457, District 14, Tramway 1445, Lower Vigil. March 20th, 2455. 12:00 PM
The squeal of rubber scraping across tile eminated from my boot as I skidded around a corner, replaced shortly by the steady, rhythmic clopping of my boots. I sighed, music to my fucking ears, sounds like the rotors of my first helicopter.
I dodged around a bearded bewildered bystander who's look of utter surprise caused me to giggle as I danced passed him. Even so, I cursed aloud as my stomach gave a sickening gurgle, why the fuck did you skip breakfast, cried her stomach, Do you want to pass out?!
"I'm sorry! I had a 5 AM sortie," I cried as I danced between two people, instantly regretting lettingy hair down as it whipped into some poor lady's face. I just kept running, not even bothering to slow down to apologize, if I didn't eat soon, I would start passing out.
Isabella O'Connor, Café sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455; 12:10 PM
Salvation, salvation was upon me, I could smell the faint whiff of foods wafting from my habitual café, they knew my order and would promptly serve it to me, I just had to make it through the door. Foot fall after foot fall I could taste the food already, and I reached out for the door.
Only to trip and curse aloud as I felt my vision dimming and my coordination shutting down, the last thing I saw was the door as my body crashed into at, pushing it open with the force of my body and producing a terrible crash.
Sophia Gibson-Wells, Café sous le lueur d'espoir, March 20th, 2455; 12:00 PM
I was touched by my husband's concern but of course, how could I tell him what was really on my mind when he was part of the problem? I prepared myself to be badgered further but I found myself saved by some European who picked that moment to come over to our table.
"Eeehhhmmm, excuses me sir. But do you happen to be Sir Lionel Gibson-Wells?"
"Yes, although I haven't had the pleasure to be knighted yet, Mr..."
"I have heard that the British are thinking really hard about that sir, but my apologies for not introducing my self. I am Laurens van der Wal. I work for the current ambassador of the Netherlands. I was wondering if when you have time, you could meet with the ambassador Margriet Naaktgeboren. She would like to talk with you about how you could help our government with your products."
Having known him for over a decade, I could tell Lionel had been on the verge of waving away the embassy staff member until the possibility of a business deal was brought up. His gaze gained a new intensity and he signalled a waiter to bring over a drink for Laurens.
"I am honoured to hear that your government is interested in my business, is Ms Naaktgeboren free tomorrow by any chance? My appointment times will be very limited when that wretched court case begins so a sooner meeting would ensure there are no delays in your order. What sort of products is your government interested in?"
At this point I tuned out the conversation, business talk bored me and I spent much of the next ten minutes watching Charlotte leaping around the playground, wondering what sort of game she was playing. I would have gone over to the play area bench for a while but Lionel didn't like me leaving him alone at the table, something about his image or so he said, so I stayed put. I noted that there was another child in the playground, a blond boy of about six and briefly wondered whether letting Charlotte play partially unsupervised was safe, but I then reassured myself; she was a smart kid after all, she surely wouldn't do anything that stupid? I turned back to the table and still finding Lionel and Laurens in conversation, settled for checking my phone for any status updates.
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