Futuristic Ashfall [lapetus]

[Lorsh]

Map

Thomas's Inventory
-Goggles, backpack, toolbelt, worker's apparel, boots [Worn]
-Lighter [Pocket]
-Your Citizen ID [Pocket]
-Your Ration Card [Pocket]
-$50.00 certs [Pocket]
_____
-5x RatPaks [Apartment]
-2x Water Scuttles [Apartment]
-4x Canned Scorpster [Apartment]
-Toolbox [Apartment]


IC below
Ashfall
Restoration Day celebrations have been starting to wind down in the Wosten Urbzone. Turnout at the speeches and parades was disappointingly low, although the regularly-scheduled holiday remains in effect.

You are in your 7th floor apartment in Residentiary B7, Mortshaw Quadrant. The sound of your alarm clock's default patriotic music fills your ears as you groggily awaken. Your room is cramped, and the gray paint is peeling off of the cracked walls. There is still a foul, acidic smell in the air ever since the police melted one of your neighbour's doors using a liquifier and dragged him away a few days ago. Your apartment has the essentials, such as a kitchen, bedroom, an (old) television, and a lavatory. If need be, you can search your residence for items.

You don't have any work today, due to the state-sanctioned holiday. You'll have to find some other way to spend your time.

 

[Lord Aphrodite]

Thomas sat in his house, bored out of his mind. He tried passing the time by tinkering with some spare parts, but all of the bolts were too stripped to actually hold together, and somehow, the bolts he needed were cored and had no threads. He would have left to get a haircut, but it was Restoration Day, and everything was pretty much closed, but he might as well go outside.

Sighing, he stood up, putting his goggles on his forehead, using them like a hairband to push his hair back. He threw on his jacket and flipped off the lights in his house. Exiting, he squinted in the daylight, before his eyes adjusted and he was able to see the outdoors. A few people buzzed about, but mostly, he assumed that everyone would be inside, like he was.

He closed the door behind him and walked down the street, walking to the market, to see if anyone had scrap for him.

 

[Lorsh]

You take to the streets, seeing that many banners and flags are still hung up in the streets in spirit of the recent celebration. At least one of the Autumn Party flags has fallen, and is now is lightly blowing around in the street, possibly having been torn down by someone. You see it collect some dust on the sidewalk before unfurling among some trash near a gutter.

Aside from the flags and banners, you also see that some new military recruitment propaganda has been plastered along the walls of the buildings leading to the market.

As you walk towards the tunnel that you use as your usual point of entry to Mortshaw's "Gray Market," you see a few policemen from the Constabulary waiting near it. As you are passing by, an officer accosts you. "Hold up, countryman. Move over to wall and place your hands on it," he orders. Probably a another search; these were very common. Extensive effort is put into ensuring that nobody sells food, drugs, or other contraband in the Gray Market.

 

[Lord Aphrodite]

Thomas walked toward the tunnel leading to the Gray Market in Mortshaw, bumping shoulders quite often. Some people gave him dirty looks when they bumped, but he mostly ignored them. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, but he was stopped before he could get into the tunnel, by some man claiming 'inspections.'

Thomas sighed and placed his palms on the wall by the tunnel, after all, he knew he'd get through, he didn't have anything illegal on him. He was pretty sure.

 

[Lorsh]

You are promptly patted down by the police officer, who finds nothing of interest. He does, however, take out your Citizen Identification Card and briefly flick his eyes across it, ensuring that it is valid. He tucks it back into your pocket before giving a nod. "You're clean, countryman. Happy Restoration," he says, before putting his hand on your shoulder and lightly pushing you away from the wall. You should now be able to continue on your way to the Gray Market.