» Wed May 18, 2011 6:38 pm
OOC: You wanted big post to fill in, well here is a big post.
Charlie Moore
"...this is not the first time that the ideals of our ancestors have be cast aside; now I'm a man merit as much as all my dear colleagues here. But Mieux has gone too far with his lockdown of the city. I will bring peace and democracy back to the people with a increase in tax on the upper class and decrease for everyone before me here!" said the politician Walker to the crowd in front of the podium, most if not all of them were from the “slums” and they ate this political garbage up.
Every politician would say this, to appease the poor, and with each passing generation less educated masses. But I knew better, his real loyalties lay with the rich, and what was left of the old world corporations that nearly ran this city beneath the sea. Walker departed, and the crowd still cheered, but I knew how it would be, if eh one, which he just might he wouldn’t do as promised, and our hate and resentment was growing by the day, we might be poor, and many of us don’t have those so sought after “PHD’s”, but out great-great-great-grandfathers shotgun was still locked up in a back room and we knew how to use it, and we “proles” were getting sick of this abomination the political machine had become.
But, I didn’t want to here when all hell broke loose, I wanted to be gone, or rich, and the only way I knew how to do that would be to get my $5000 dollars by joining the surface expedition, and I was nearly late for my meeting with the police, stupid criminal history, wasn’t my fault we didn’t have enough food stamps. But I didn’t care I would hit up the community center and get my hand stamped so I could join that expedition, but, with tears in my eyes, I knew I had to say good bye to my ma, and little sis one last time, since this could be my end. I tilted my cap down a little, casting a shadow across my face, a cool breeze rolled across the crowd, blowing a foul stench across me, but I was used to it.
I made my way down through the streets, and waited at the LRV stop. A few minutes ticked away, but still no sign of my way home. It made me sick; the corporates were too cheap to even keep the public transit running, maybe if Walker even kept a grain of truth in his words this place would improve. And while in the middle of my thoughts it pulled up and its doors opened, I stepped on flashing my student discount card, and dropped a few coins into the collector, the driver nodded in approval, he knew I probably didn’t put enough, but he also knew that the actual fee was more than the poor could make in a week.
I took my seat just behind the driver, the vehicle roared to life screeching forward on the track, picking up considerable speed. A minute or two passed and it came to a halt at the next stop. No one boarded and a few left and then the vehicle continued on its routine for a few more stops, until mine came into view. It stopped I got off nodding to the driver in thanks, and began to make my way down the street to our small bungalow home. The screen door was opened, and my little sister and her two friends were playing the yard. The rushed forward nattering incessantly, I brushed them off and went into the house, my Mother was there in the kitchen cooking up grilled cheese for the kids, “Oh your home, good can you take the garbage down to the dump, seriously this place is starting to smell like [censored].”
I chuckled. “It’s not funny,” she exclaimed, “if your sister gets some lung disease or something, you’re paying for medical, cause insurance sure as hell won’t.”
I chuckled again, but then mentally reminded myself to get serious, “Ma, I need great grand pappy’s gun.”
She stopped, turned the stove off and turned around leaning on the counter behind her. Then the shouting started: “I’m not letting you join one those gangs, I don’t care how much money it makes, it’s immoral, you ruin people’s lives with those chems, it’s against the bible, and you could die.” Now she was crying, her tears ran from her eyes splashing down on the grimy counter, forming a puddle.
“Ma, I’m joining the expedition.” She stopped crying, talking, shouting or anything, she made no signs. I knew she thought it was worse than running with a gang, and so did I, but I knew she wouldn’t object. She moved into the entrance hallway, and reached for her key chain, and pulled one off, she threw it on the ground, and it slid making an eerie screeching sound on tiled floor. I reached down and picked it up.
Her eyes began to tear up again, but she kept them back, leaning down against the yellowy gray coloured wall, she spoke again: “The locked drawer, my bedside table, make your father proud.” My sister now appeared at the door, my Mom looked at her, smiled and raced to her, embracing her, I could hear her say it, “Everything is going to be better know.”
I turned on my heels and went into the far back room, it was dark, I flicked the light switch and the bulb which had likely rarely been used came to life. I moved my way to the bedside table; it was a mahogany wood, one of the last pieces of my family’s old life a few generations ago in the rich area. The key slid easily into the lock and I twisted and pulled opening the drawer. Inside another silver engraved wooden box in mint condition, with a golden latch keeping it closed. I flicked that up and pulled the lid open, revealing a Desert Eagle, and 3 empty magazines. I hoped it would come in handy, I closed it grabbed it and went back to the entrance, placing it in my bag. I slung it over my shoulder; I was turning to leave when my sister asked, “When will you be back?”
“A couple weeks tops,” I said jokingly, trying to keep my cool, I didn’t know if I would return, but I didn’t want to think about that. I bent low and kissed her on the forehead. “Make sure you guys have a grilled cheese ready for me when I get back, mmkay.” At that she laughed and I got up and turned to my Mom.
“I love you,” I said. She hugged me, and then I parted. But before I could leave she yelled as I was down the porch steps, “You forgot your hat.”
“Keep it,” I said
“But I don’t want you to get sunburned when you go top side.”
And those were the last words I exchanged with my family. In minutes I was at the community center, where the government was having some big rally, I guess they were expecting a lot of poor people to sign on just to get out of the hell hole, but they were wrong. So far no people had stepped up to the table to sign on. A huge crowd was gathered around hoping to see someone step up to the plate, but so far none, the police there were still spitting their propaganda slogan. But I moved my way to the folding plastic table and picked up the pen and signed my name, Charlie Moore.
“I’m surprised anyone even signed up,” laughed one of the police there. “Fine you’re accepted, just get on that limo, but live it up kid, this is your 5 minutes of fame.”
The crowd roared to life, all of them svcked into it, cheering for someone they didn’t now, who was on some mission they didn’t know [censored] about. I stepped into the limo and it took me straight it to the White House. I was escorted to some hall where Justin Mieux, the President, appeared and spoke to the small group gathered here. The he spoke: "Hello ladies and gentleman, you people are making a glorious risk for your city, for your country. We don't know how much the world has changed since June 3rd 2077, so you fine people will go out as recon. Let's head to the War Room shall we?"
The group followed still escorted by some guards but they stopped outside the War Room, only the group and Mieux entered the room. Then he spoke again: "Ladies and Gentlemen, Arcadia is dying. Maybe ten years left before the generators fail, if that happens, the carbon dioxide filters that recirculate the air into oxygen will shut down, and power will go out. We NEED to find a solution. That's where you all come in. If the world above is still as it was when we sealed away, then you all must make your way to Vault Tec or General Atomics International and ask them to give us the required generator pieces. However, if the world is not what it was, we only have two choices, find the Vaults and take their parts, if you can get in the Vault, or, only as a last resort, we must vacate the city."
He activated a 3-D hologram map of DC, I reckoned that since this was pre-war, the landscape was highly changed, but that was obviously pretty obvious. Then he spoke again: "I pray it doesn't come to the option of abandoning this place, but I'd rather we struggle than we die." He pointed out and explained in detail how to get to these offices mentioned earlier, then shut down the map. "As well, you'll all be issued standard USAF Combat Armor, an R91 Assault Rifle with fifteen extra clips, a 10mm pistol with ten clips, and lastly we'll also issue Stimpaks, five each, so ration them CAREFULLY." He took a sip from a cup of coffee brought in for him, then lowered it to the level of where the buttons on his onyx toned jacket, and asked in a light mooded voice, "Well, any questions?"
Another man asked: "Just one Mr. President how in the hell are we going to get up there? Scuba gear?"
And then another asked: “I also got one, can I bring my gear? I got me a rifle, a side arm, and extra meds, as well as my own armor my great, great, great, grandfather designed and made?”
But those questions were irrelevant to me, I stepped forward to make myself more noticeable and said in a loud voice: “What about the money, my family is dying in the slums that you rich people have created, by exploiting us, and destroying us, you’ve ruined lives, and put us through things no family should ever have to live through, so my family better be getting the money as soon as I depart.”
