[Marnesia Steele]

Alright, welcome to the thread, enjoy.

[Robert Devlin]

Director Vogel – Liberty Lost

"I see your point. Neither of us will last long enough to keep power over either institution. You have yourself a deal, I've got say, you drive a hard bargain. As for the testing on the rallies, I don't know about that. I'm not running some Vault Experiment here. But since it's my intention to do my worst to these fools, I'll allow it. As for the protection of the politicians on stage, I could care less. I only care for myself and anyone else important to me. Otherwise, do your worst."

"So, let's go over everything. In exchange for a hand in this technology, I'll allow you money, chems, slaves and a few experiments here and there. What do you say?"

A deal being reached, Vogel lowered his guard slightly; he returned Vox Populi’s malicious smirk. “I can tell you now Vox Populi that Majestic does not recognise the authority of Manhattan’s ‘government’, we view it as an extension of the criminal syndicate; maybe Majestic needs to arrange an assassination of it’s own? We do do that from time-to-time. As for the deal, you simplified it to a t; you help us realise this dream and your apart of it. Guaranteed. Is there another way that we can contact one-another? Do you have a landline connection here or a radio frequency? If you need Majestic, the number for the administration building is 718-546-1150, just ask introduce yourself and ask to be put through to me; if I’m in the field then the operator will give you the number of the field office if you ask. Oh and before I leave, is there anything else I can refer to you as; a real name instead of that – if you’ll pardon me – tribal language title you go under?”

[Naomi Ward]

Vox Populi/Cinna - Liberty Lost

"Tribal language?" I say almost laughing at this man's obvious disregard for the literary arts. He put up a front making him look as if he were the smartest man in the room, that was now proven to be false. "It's Latin for Voice of the People. But of course, I wouldn't expect you to know that. I'm surprised you can even read, most people in Manhattan can't anyway. Truly a blessing." I am chuckling on the inside, despite the fact that he hasn't proven his literary skills at all.

"You see, unlike you Director Vogel, I don't go under a single name. You see this?" I say pointing towards my artificial face. I approach him closer almost right in his ear. "This isn't even my real face." I say laughing at his obvious confusion. "This character, is named Cinna. A party goer, frequent visitor to Manhattan. If you want, you can call me Cinna." I utter hinting at my current identity. "The rest of my personalities are in the Statue.

I pause, almost forgetting something. "Oh, and I'd be delighted to visit your little playhouse of science one day. You know, when I'm not busy." I say sarcastically, winking at him in my content on how I've made him look like a fool. I stick my hand out, waiting for a shake to seal our deal. That, and his stamp of approval.

[Far'ed K.G.h.m]

Director Vogel - Liberty Lost

"Tribal language? It's Latin for Voice of the People. But of course, I wouldn't expect you to know that. I'm surprised you can even read, most people in Manhattan can't anyway. Truly a blessing. You see, unlike you Director Vogel, I don't go under a single name. You see this? This isn't even my real face. This character, is named Cinna. A party goer, frequent visitor to Manhattan. If you want, you can call me Cinna. The rest of my personalities are in the Statue. Oh, and I'd be delighted to visit your little playhouse of science one day. You know, when I'm not busy."

Vogel glared the man down, 'Clearly attempting to save face', Vogel thought savagely.

"New Fort Meade is an Old World prison not a library Cinna, I would take the vocational workshops over a redundant language and long dead 'culture' in a heartbeat; they certainly didn't help the Old World itself. New Fort Meade is a military installation and I am going to have to demand that you be subjected to the same security precautions as I have here. I'll see you shortly, do not hesitate to contact me regarding any further arrangements."

Vogel reached out his hand and briefly took Cinna's own in a firm and formal grip - no macho strength contest, no loose grip of (ugh) unprofessionalism - before waiting to be escorted back to his Agents.

[Joanne]

Vox Populi/Cinna - Liberty Lost

We shook hands and I lead him to the exit. His words meant nothing to me, I had no true intentions of really visiting his little scientific playhouse. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Director Vogel." I waved my hand even further to the exit as I signaled for one of my guards to escort him to the docks. In seconds he was gone.

I turned to return to my new life in Liberty Lost. I thought to begin with the safe. What ever was in that safe, would probably be of great use to me in the future. And even if it wasn't, who cares? It's not like there's anything I would desperately need in that safe. I already had all I needed in the palm of my hand. The world. I reached for the key that weighed down my pockets through the entire meeting. It was a tiny little thing, fitting snugly into it's slot. It turn it and the safe clicked open. It was hard at first to see what was really in the safe because it was so close to the ground, it was a small one too. I stuck my hand in feeling around. And I've got to say this "gift from the people of Liberty Lost" was lacking in excitement.

Of course, I was right about there being weapons. The safe had a few 9mm rounds and a 9mm pistol. Nothing special, pretty standard out in the wastes. There was a roll of 250 caps, always helpful and a few wads of pre-war money.

Nothing of use. I thought to my self. It was just a bunch of caps and a gun. But it was nothing to be angry about. I had more than enough to worry about.

I turned back to the interrogation table and towards my guard. I realized that I was needed down in Central Square. Without thinking I grab all of my bearings and make my way to the docks as well.

________________________________________________

The day reaches noon when I make it to the Liberty Transit ferry that was oh so familiar. I caught up with one of the guards and was on my way to the Central Square with permission from the island's leader. Not that I had needed it anyway. I knew that my time in Central Square would go unnoticed to the common folk, since I had yet to make an appearance. My arrival was quiet and kept only to my escorts and the people I was working with. It was strange to not be the center of attention as I was on Liberty Lost. I knew these people wouldn't be as hospitable, especially not with the hype of the rallies in the coming day.

I was welcome to the sight of a hideous stage. It was relatively bare and far too open. A bullet could go straight through without anyone to question why or how. I was about 30 feet from the stage when I got a better vantage point.

The stage was set at the end of Central Square's biggest street, in the middle of a major four way intersection. I knew the set up was a great bother to the travelers making their way through the city day by day, but I could care less. The street I was on went straight down, lined with my symbol. The Old World Flag. A beautiful thing, a symbol of better times. Above me was a blank sign and empty booth, probably for checkpoint. No one is going to bring weapons to my show. I could see the buildings, keeping the streets shaped like an alley way, as most metropolis cities did. There were speakers set up on the sides of the buildings, and built into the ground.

The stage was the biggest problem. It was wide open, no sign of protection at all. The only key points were my signature red, white and blue curtains and streamers lining the edges of it. This was all wrong. Each street looked similar, with the same Old World Flags lined their sidewalks. Each street provided a strikingly similar vantage point. That was a good thing. The stage was built on the intersection, meant to attract attention on all sides.

I approached the stage to be greeted by a woman who hadn't recognized me until I flashed my Liberty Lost ID card, issued to me before I left. The girl had a wide smile and would have tackled me to the ground to hug me if she could. I could see the restraint in her face and her body and she clutched her clipboard.

"How are you liking the decor? We're not done yet, but --" I cut her off immediately.

"The stage is disgusting, it's just a giant prism of wood. Paint over it. I need the stage to rise. I need it to be protected." The girl had a strike of sadness in her face. She was also confused to my demands.

"What do you mean rise?"

"I mean, add some 3D effect. The big hunk of wood you call a stage, needs poles or something, something to have a roof over our heads. I want the stage to be a box. We have the ground set up, now we need a roof. Decorate that with the old world colors, they're gorgeous. We need walls, fashion them completely of bulletproof glass on all four sides." That's when I noticed the lack of stairs to climb onto the stage. "How did you get up there?" The stage was about 5 feet off the ground, this little lady definitely didn't climb.

"You and the rally politicians will rise from the ground, out from the sewers. We have a maintenance tunnel set up so you won't have to fight the crowd to get on stage." She murmurs. It was quite the smart idea, I had to give them credit for that.

"Well, get the walls and ceiling up and turn this stage into a cube." I looked down the street along the edge of the stage. "Set up a security gate about 10 feet from the stage. I don't want the crowd scratching out the glass, we need our space." I glanced at her as she noted the things I was saying. "The checkpoints will be heavily guarded and I want personnel on the roofs just in case anyone wants to try something."

I had my final idea in my mind. I knew precisely what I wanted. "When I want to be alone, your men will allow it. Got it?" The girl simply nodded, not knowing I had something a lot more sinister in mind.
_____________________________________________________

OOC: http://i52.tinypic.com/fop0s5.png

[Krystal Wilson]

Alexander Scalatti

Alexander Scalatti http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/a/a4/Cole_Phelps_-_LA_Noire_256x323.png as he walked into the crowd of people. Behind him, two other mafia soldiers were following him. The plan had to work, Alex thought it through for a while. He lit a cigarette, he was nervous, but knew that this would work.

The crowds were massive, it seemed as if everyone in the Empire Wasteland was in New Manhattan. Traders were having a field day no doubt, but so would the slavers if Alex didn't win here.

"Damn it, guards," Jack whispered nervously as they approached the security. Alex knew that there would be guards, but not this many. There were at least thirty monitering main and biggest entrance into Central Square.

"Distract them, engage em, I'll sneak in with the crowd," Alex said confidently. This had to work.

Jack and the other guy jogged up to the guards, "Where's the bathroom? I gotta pee man! I gotta pee," Jack lied, pretending to preform the pee-pee dance.

The guard bought it, "Son, you look like a damn [censored] fool." With the guard distracted, Alex snuck in without a problem in the crowd. The square wasn't that full, so Alex got as decent spot, with a view of the stage.

[Daniel Brown]

Millennium Chairman Aiden Park

Aiden returned to the Central Square to see a sea of people. The phrase "human mountain, human sea*" was an understatement to such a large collection of people. They were all wandering around, heading in the general direction of the Millennium Hotel and the edge of Central Square. He looked back at the guards and then nodded. The guards pushed forward to the Millennium Hotel. When they arrived, Aiden was amazed by the sight of what he saw in the lobby.

Hundreds of people were gathering at the Millennium Hotel, gambling, booking rooms, and eating at the famed Millennium Restaurant. Aiden gave a hearty laugh and called the manager, who had a wide grin on his face when he arrived. The manager smiled and gave a report. "Sir, whomever this Vox Populi is, he's doing wonders for our business! We've already matched our monthly quota in a single day!"

The President and Varen also gave a smirk and the three of them headed to the Penthouse after relieving the guards. Aiden looked out of the glass window to the edge of Central Square. Sure enough, a massive stage, surrounded by people, was present. The stage itself was quite shabby, made up of splintery wood and decorated haphazardly. But the flag of the Old World still flapped with pride.

Aiden called to him the guards who had escorted him to Mieux. "I wish to see Vox Populi on stage. We leave when Populi himself makes an appearance on the stage, know that.

[butterfly]

Vox Populi/Cinna - Central Square

I had to admit, these people had worked quickly. The stage was redecorated within minutes, despite the gathering crowd. It seemed as if people were more interested in the construction of the stage than the people going to be on it. The stage was repainted a bright mahogany, still wet. Four metal poles rose high enough to match that of the hotel just on the left corner of the stage. The roof make the top of the stage, that was now a cube. It draqed the biggest Old World Flag I had ever seen. Probably taken from one of the museums in DC. It seemed to be about 30 feet wide and hung proudly over the stage, flapping in the air as the wind picked up. Streamers had run across the surrounding buildings, despite permission from their owners. The streets were sprinkled with red, white and blue glitter, literally painting everyone in the street in the image of the Voice of the People.

I had just returned from the town, purchasing over 3,000 caps of C-4 explosive. Enough to destroy a big chunk of the city. But in this case. The rally itself. I decided I was gonna go out with a bang, taking Manhattan's elite, with me. I could feel a slight smile running over my face.

I was in the sewers, remodeled to my liking, not even feeling like a sewer at all. I was being fitted into a suit the prep team had designed just for me. I had to say, it looked stunning. The velvet tuxedo was very fitting and almost glittered in the sunlight. It was a dark black, reflecting off white specks of light. My shirt was a blatant white and the tie was relatively boring, still, made from the same material as the rest of the suit.

Sadly, my identity was exposed. The creams and dye in my hair had come off in my wash. People weren't too surprised, they didn't expect someone like the Vox Populi to look like a normal city goer either. If anything, I fit what they expected. But they made it a point to highlight my features. They all had agreed that my hair was way too light for my skin. It was easily dyed a thick black, nearly untouchable by water. It was remodeled from my usual long ruffled style, to a slick short style, pointed towards the front, with each layer highlighted with a black darker than the next. It looked stunning and they weren't even done.

They applied a thick eyeliner around my eyes, meant to highlight their blue shade. From afar, I looked as if I were a zombie from those pre-war horror films. Something like that 'Beetle Juice' fellow from the older movies. My blue eyes had exploded into color and they thought even that wasn't enough.

From the thick eyeliner they had traced lines down my face. Running just a bit squarely over my high cheeks and perfectly straight down to my jaw line and finally disappearing into my collar. I looked like something else. Nothing anyone else had seen before. Sure, it was simple, but people in Manhattan hadn't had too much sense for striking fashion. The lines fit perfectly on my face, making it look chiseled and structured. It was definitely going strike a stunning look to the crowd. I had looked weird, sure, but that's what fashion is all about. It was...innovative. Something they were new to.

I felt like a doll, being modeled to their liking. But it was all right. I had become an icon, more than I was before. People would remember this strange style as a symbol of the Voice of the People. Innovative yet destructive.

_________________________________________________

I admired myself in the mirror. My pale face, made beautiful at the hands of these people. It was going to be sad to see them go.

Little did anyone know, I had plans of my own if the toxin Director Vogel didn't work. But despite their success or failure, it was still my plan since the beginning to go out with a bang. To leave the crowd wanting more. The C-4 explosive I had purchased, now lined the sewers, sitting silently under the crowd, just waiting for the press of a button to drag them to the depths of hell. Where they all belong.

[Sierra Ritsuka]

(OOC: probably not a great post but it's 3am here)

Robert stood at the window of his apartment, where he had a rather good view of the crowds, he could see traders selling food, drinks and - Robert suspected - easy to hide weapons. He watched as many people worked quickly to decorate the stage in the colours of the old world, Robert grabbed his binoculars and surveyed the stage, near it he could see a pale looking man in a suit that he assumed was the Vox himself.

Robert watched as the Vox disappeared somewhere, it didn’t really matter to him, Robert looked through his binoculars at a nearby checkpoint, he watched as the guards disarmed everyone that went through, he guessed that he could use some stealthboys he had if he wanted to get through with a weapon.

After a few minutes Robert decided that he was going to go down to see Vox, but he wasn’t going to unarmed, he got into a rather smart suit and put his 10mm pistol in the inside jacket pocket, then took two stealthboys and placed one on his wrist and one in his coat. As Robert was leaving he activated some protectrons and ordered them to stand guard outside the door to deter anyone who thought about trying to get in, he already had turrets inside his apartment, but he didn’t want to get blood on the carpet.