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File 154135198925.png - (19.10KB , 600x600 , 1.png )
909541 No. 909541 ID: 986b2d

You just quit your job. You can't believe it.

PARADISE FOUND is a post-cyberpunk neon glam quest about fighting the man, finding yourself, and becoming a witch. It will deal heavily with themes of gender/identity exploration and found family. Content warnings will include violence, injury, blood and body horror as standard for my quests, as well as potential nudity. Due to the story's themes, it may also deal with depression and dysphoria (both general life dissatisfaction and gender dysphoria.) Be kind to one another. Be kind to the story. Godspeed.
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No. 909542 ID: 986b2d
File 154135202511.png - (65.94KB , 600x600 , 2.png )

You've never even heard of someone QUITTING THEIR JOB. You mean, you've heard STORIES. You grew up on cautionary tales about the time before PERMANENT EMPLOYMENT , when people would quit or be fired with practically no notice, when businesses would scramble to find people to work for them, when people would starve without jobs to keep their bills paid. Nowadays, of course, nobody ever QUITS. Your labor was bought up at auction by EDEN PHARMACEUTICAL SOLUTIONS when you turned eighteen, and you've had a steady paycheck with them since then. You've been fed. Clothed. Your bills are paid. You have no hope of being hired by anyone else, so it would be INFECTED of you to just...leave.

But you did. You walked out of your office two hours ago. You feel like your heart is gonna pound out of your chest.

Your name is....well, you HAVEN'T DECIDED YET. The one you had feels wrong on your tongue now. Even thinking about it kinda makes you want to throw up. You're TWENTY ONE years old. You don't know where you're going, besides that you want to be ANYWHERE BUT HERE.

You have on your person: a CORPORATE-SUPPLIED COMMS UNIT, FIFTY EARTH CREDITS, a piece of plastic that you're pretty sure is a MARS COLONY TWENTY-ARE BILL (useless on EARTH), TWO BOBBY-PINS, your EDEN PHARMACEUTICALS COMPANY ID (which you assume will be voided in approximately one hour), your COMPANY UNIFORM, and a WIRELESS NETWORK DONGLE with approximately twenty-four hours of airtime left on it.
No. 909543 ID: 986b2d
File 154135205193.png - (167.24KB , 600x600 , 3.png )

Your COMMS are ringing from two separate lines. You're going to have to put one of them on hold. Line 01's Caller ID reads as SEPTIMUS ALPHA-GAMMA, your former supervisor, probably wanting to know where you are. Line 02 is an UNKNOWN NUMBER.

What will you do?

A) Answer Line 01, put Line 02 on hold
B) Answer Line 02, put Line 01 on hold
C) Hang up both lines and do something else
D) Write-in?
No. 909548 ID: 70b876

B pick up line 2 cause we thrive on the mystery
No. 909566 ID: 70df1e

B! lets see this mystery number!
No. 909581 ID: afdebc

If nobody QUITS, how did you? Are the protocols and rules for quitting from the time before PERMANENT EMPLOYMENT still existent, even though no one uses them?

Of course there's also the question of WHY, but you'll get to that when you get to that. I trust you had good reason.

>Line 01's Caller ID reads as SEPTIMUS ALPHA-GAMMA, your former supervisor, probably wanting to know where you are
Well, if they're your former supervisor, it's not as if they have a right to that information anymore, do they? The only reason you have to pick up now is if you ascribe any value to SEPTIMUS ALPHA-GAMMA outside that former role.

>B) Answer Line 02, put Line 01 on hold
Who cold calls those who have done the unprecedented (in recent history) and walks out on their place in the world?
No. 909588 ID: f5593c

>Why did you quit
People live because they want to live. They find reasons and desires to live, usually selfish and always biased, and they plot their decisions in favor of working towards these reasons and desires. In your case however, you knew that the job you've been chained to did not take these incentives to count, because it did not need to. You were enslaved to your job, and through the societal lack of choice, your master. They could force you to work for things that go against your goals, and more importantly, they could have destroyed you in a heartbeat and covered it up because you were in an environment where "backup plans" are a myth.

You've thrown yourself into the wasteland, but you're smarter than you think. All the others have two choices, and apparently, few ever believe they have a choice. You have more.

No. 909598 ID: 1872dc


Though the mention of the ID still having use for the next hour makes me want to use it for something. Not sure what.
No. 909605 ID: 986b2d
File 154137115745.png - (19.59KB , 600x600 , 4.png )

>How you quit

There aren't really any protocols that you know of for quitting. You just sort of...got up and left. You imagine nobody else quits largely because leaving your job gets you BLACKLISTED, and no self-respecting corporation would hire a blacklisted laboror.

>Why you quit

That's a long story, and one you really don't have time to dwell on.

>Pick up Line 02

:protagmildlyconcerned: Hey, you've reached, uh...

Your old name catches in your mouth.

:protagirritated: It's...me. What's up?
:azzashadow: Oh, thank fuck.

The voice sounds relieved beyond relief. It's an unfamiliar voice, with an accent that sounds...midwestern, maybe Canadian?

:azzashadow: I was hoping you'd pick up this line, we'd all be bricked if you didn't. Your supervisor is trying to distract you.
:protagneutral: Sorry, who is this?
:azzashadow: Not a lot of time for introductions, kiddo. But you can call me Azza. I'm gonna get you out of here.
:protagareyounuts: I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about.

Azza sighs from the other end of the line.

:azzashadow: Okay, okay. Gotta build some trust, I got it. Look to your left- HEY NOT WITH YOUR HEAD, with your eyes. Don't let them see you looking.

You startle a little, but obey.
No. 909606 ID: 986b2d
File 154137121454.png - (50.96KB , 600x600 , 5.png )

:azzashadow: See the suits on either end of the bridge? Those guys have been tailing you for the last three blocks. I don't know them, but my guess is they're with Eden. They probably want to clean up the mess you made by walking out.
:protagmildlyconcerned: How the fuck do you know that?
:azzashadow: Also sounds like a question for future Azza. You wanna live, kid?

You really, really do.

:protageyesshut: ...Of course.
:azzashadowthumb: Good. You're surrounded, so here's what I'm gonna need you to do. See the railing on the bridge? The one you're leaning on?
:protagmildlyconcerned: Yeah?
:azzashadow: I need you to climb over that so you're standing on the outside. And then on my signal, I'm going to need you to jump.
:protagareyounuts: Are you fucking nuts? Is this a prank?
:azzashadow: Wish it was, champ. I don't wanna rush you, but this is a time-sensitive deal. You can stay up there and die slash disappear, or you can do what I say and have a shot at it. Canal's not that far down. Someone will collect you. That's what they call a leap of faith.

This went off the rails very quickly.

A) Listen to Azza. Jump.
B) Don't trust Azza. Try to take the suits yourself.
C) Demand more information
D) Something else?
No. 909625 ID: afdebc

>an accent that sounds...midwestern, maybe Canadian?
For comparison, whereabouts are you (or your accent) from?

>what do
It's conceivable it's bad for your old companies reputation, or for someone invested in the system if you make waves by quitting, right? Whereas if you died or disappeared, well, people die all the time, right? No one lives forever. Getting rid of you might just be good PR.

Risk A. I mean, Azza new to call you, somehow, right? If Azza's not trying to help you, it's a set up, and they have people on you either way.
No. 909631 ID: 2af340

you've already taken a leap by quitting your job
what's another (more literal) leap?
No. 909634 ID: 094652

... You'd think that a dystopia would have subtler methods of dealing with disgruntled ex-employee terrorists. This is not one of those methods.

This is a @#$%ing game.

Or maybe your boss doesn't want you to reveal his dirty.

D - Run. Now. You don't trust amateurs to catch people from a heavy height, and you don't trust the tailing agents; apparently, this is their job.
No. 909661 ID: 1872dc

C. You should be blacklisted, not murdered, as far as you know. Why is that not the case? Azza doesn't need to explain the whole thing but there's got to be a simple sentence that hits the key words. If they say there's not enough time, then they're wasting time by saying that.
No. 909798 ID: 986b2d
File 154152113728.png - (19.56KB , 600x600 , 6.png )

>Your accent

You were born and raised, and still live, in the incorporated city of SILICON VALLEY, CALIFORNIA. You think your accent is pretty geographically neutral, but you're sure someone from elsewhere in the country would disagree.

>Demand more information

:protagneutral: I don't get it. I thought people who left were supposed to be blacklisted, not murdered. Why would they want me dead?
:azzashadow: You've got some timing, sport. I don't have time to give you a whole civics lesson, but in two words? Collective bargaining.
:protagmildlyconcerned: What?
:azzashadow: They can't let people visibly quit because then their workers might realize they have bargaining power. Back in the old days there used to be this thing called a strike, right? Where people would walk out of work en masse to bargain for better pay or conditions or whatever?
:protagirritated: You think people would do that if they could just leave?
:azzashadow: I think Eden thinks that. I mean, the workers would be screwing themselves over- no offense- but it's not like Eden can just hire more people to replace strikers like they coulda in the old days. Consider it this way. Has anyone you know EVER quit?
:protagmildlyconcerned: No, but-
:azzashadow: But has anyone you know ever DISAPPEARED?
:protageyesshut: ...

The suits are approaching, you notice. You can't help it, it has you a little nervous.

:azzashadow: Now or never, sweetheart.
No. 909799 ID: 986b2d
File 154152116697.png - (38.08KB , 600x600 , 7.png )

>Trust Azza

Briefly, you consider running. But the suits well and truly have you surrounded, and frankly, you're really not physically fit enough for a high-speed foot chase. So that really leaves you one option.

The handrail of the bridge is just slightly taller than you can comfortably climb over, and thus you are forced to awkwardly drag the dead weight of your body over the top of the rail and shimmy over so that your feet have about an inch of purchase on the stub of the bridge accessible from the other side of the rail. You are keenly aware of the rushing of the canal below you.

You imagine you look MUCH LESS COOL than you hoped you would.

The suits have taken note.

:raphaelneutral: Citizen, please step back over the railing. You may hurt yourself.
:protagirritated: Well, I sure hope not, but that's life.
:tabbrisneutral: Please, remain calm. You don't need to do this.
:azzashadow: Fuck. Archangels. Don't listen to these fuckers, they're slimy. On three.
:azzashadow: One. Two...
No. 909800 ID: 986b2d
File 154152119364.png - (47.76KB , 600x600 , 8.png )

The water of the canal is freezing cold, and you hit it like a sack of bricks. You dimly recall that hitting water from a certain height can be as dangerous as falling on concrete. You weren't at that height, you don't think, but your skin smarts. Not that you can feel it for long before the temperature saps the feeling from your limbs. The shock of hitting the water forces your mouth open, and you just barely manage to jam it closed before getting a lungful of canal water.

Something thin and metal wraps around your leg. You make a break for the surface but it drags you further down, down until your knees scrape the concrete floor of the canal. You bump along the floor twice before something underneath gives way and you're dumped out unceremoniously into somewhere dark and empty. But hey. There's air here, and that has to be worth something.

You spit out a mouthful of water.

:cobwebconcerned: Oh. Oh no oh no oh are you okay? You're not drowned, are you? I was supposed to catch you...oh Azza's gonna be so mad...

A) Comfort the stranger
B) Interrogate the stranger
C) Interrogate Azza on your comms
D) Call for help on your comms
E) Make a break for it
F) Something else?
No. 909802 ID: 5da03e

F) Something else?
Check for injuries. You just got jerked around, scraped up, and did swallow some water. You're cold, emotionally exhausted, and should make sure you're not ignoring some injury.

While doing that, A) Comfort the stranger. Your timing was a little off, but everyone's got all their limbs.
No. 909803 ID: 986b2d

Paradise Found has a discussion thread here: https://tgchan.org/kusaba/questdis/res/126388.html ! Discuss your hearts out and tell me what a hack i am for writing blatant fanfic of classic bible fanfic
No. 909809 ID: 549eee

B) Interrogate the stranger
No. 909820 ID: 5f3f48

>The handrail of the bridge is just slightly taller than you can comfortably climb over
By design! That's what safety rails are for, you know.

>a, b
I'm okay, not drowned. Just cold.

You bring a towel or something? What's next?

Are your electronics ruined now, or were they sufficiently water proofed? Well, actually, even if your communicator still works, you probably need to ditch it soon. The feds can track those, right?
No. 909822 ID: 1872dc

B. Find out what the next step is. Do you need to start tossing away stuff to prevent tracking, or what?
No. 910085 ID: f91d05

Give them some shit but don't get TOO mad.
No. 910263 ID: 986b2d
File 154191382015.png - (21.94KB , 600x600 , 9.png )

>Are you okay

You take a moment to take stock of your situation. You don't feel any sharp, throbbing internal pain, so you have to assume you didn't break any bones. You're PRETTY SCRAPED UP, especially on your arms and knees, and the knees of your uniform are a bit torn. Other than a few cuts and scrapes and some bruises, though, you're pretty sure you're FINE.

>Your electronics

Your comms unit is supposed to be waranteed against water immersion, but you've never particularly wanted to test that out until now. However, it looks like the holographic screen, at the least, is STILL IN WORKING ORDER.

>Comfort the stranger (but give them a little crap)

:protageyesshut: I'm mostly just cold. You don't have a t-towel or anything, do you?
:cobwebtalk: Oh! Oh, uh...I...didn't think to bring one....but the Coven isn't far! We can warm you up there!
:protagneutral: Fine, I guess.
:cobwebsmile: Uh, here! This will be faster!

Just like before, you feel something thin and metal wrap under both of your arms and lift you into the air, and just like that, you're moving down what appears to be a dark passageway. You couldn't get a good look at the stranger before, but now you can see that there's something...wrong. The stranger's body, below the torso, is nothing but a mess of dangling wires and tubes. Instead of legs, there are a series of thin, spider-like legs mounted along the stranger's back and shoulders. I guess they must be...cybernetic enhancements of some sort?

:cobwebgonnacry: Oh, I scared you....I'm so sorry, I didn't mean- oh...

You grit your teeth.

:protagirritated: It's fine. Just go.

>Interrogate the stranger

:protagmildlyconcerned: Where the fuck am I, anyway?
:cobwebtalk: Uhhh! Under the canal. There's...a network of tunnels under the city that we...use to get around. We can't exactly go skittering around above ground....ahahaha...
:protagneutral: We?
:cobwebsmile: The Coven. There are uhhhh.....five of us down here. Me, uh, I'm Cobweb, by the way, Azza, Lucy, Psyche, and Soma.
:protagmildlyconcerned: Should I be...getting rid of my comms? Can't they track that?
:cobwebgonnacry: Shit, right!

A metal claw grabs the comms unit from you and crushes it. You wince.

:cobwebconcerned: I'm sorry...Psyche will get you a new one! But it would be bad if Eden followed us here....
:protageyesshut: 's fine. It was my idea anyway, so...
:cobwebtalk: I don't know about the other corps, but Eden....puts tracking tech on their workers' stuff, so...
:protagneutral: How did you guys know who I was?
:cobwebsmile: Oh! That was Azza! He hacked Eden's comms server, and found some of your bosses talking about you walking out, then he used their database to find your comms unit and track you! That's how he called you, too. Sorry about that, but we knew if you left, they would kill you, so....
No. 910265 ID: 986b2d
File 154191399412.png - (71.50KB , 600x600 , 10.png )

A light appears at the end of the tunnel and before you know it, you're dropped to the ground. You rub your eyes. You're in a large, well-lit room, and there are people all over. The room is divided into sections, each part labeled as someone's workspace, along with a set of pronouns. Notably, not including you, there are only actually...four people here. On a large, swiveling armchair in the center of the room, there is a tall woman with long hair, who doesn't seem to notice you right away.

The closest workspace to you is labeled as Azza's, and it's taken up almost entirely by the bigest and most extra computer setup you've ever seen. There must be at least ten monitors here, both traditional and holographic, and each of them seems to be doing something important. Azza himself pushes away from his seat and rushes over to you. He's thin and lanky, and notably not wearing a shirt under his long coat. Instead, his chest is just metal, with a gaping hole in the middle and a suspended heart-shaped charm.

:azzamad: Cobweb! Look at them, they're soaking wet! What did you do, drop them?
:cobwebgonnacry: Sorry...
:azzairritated: Hey, sorry about that, uh.....you. And sorry in advance.
:protagmildlyconcerned: What?

Azza rips your ID off its lanyard, shuffles back to his workspace, and plugs it into a port.

:protagareyounuts: Hey!
:azzasmirk: Sorry, sport, but what with all the bullshit time Cobweb wasted letting you go for a swim in the canal, we lost a good fifteen minutes, which means we only have like forty-five minutes to wreak havok with this beautiful little piece of plastic.
:luciferstern: Azazel.

The tall woman in the chair stands up and walks towards you, laying one hand on Azza's shoulder. Her hair is long and curly, and bright blonde. The most notable thing about her is the golden horns nestled into her hair.

:azzablushu: ...Sorry, Lucifer.
:luciferstern: Don't antagonize Cobweb. And relax a moment. We have time to introduce ourselves to our guest.

She turns and offers you a hand. You take it, baffled.

:luciferhappy: Lucifer Morningstar. It's a pleasure, although I wish we could have met under more pleasant circumstances.
:protagmildlyconcerned: Oh fuck. You're Lucifer Morningstar.


:protagneutral: I'm sorry, I just- You're a woman.

Lucifer laughs cheerfully.

:lucifersmile: I am!
:protagmildlyconcerned: Oh, I. Sorry, I thought... in your photos you look-
:luciferhappy: Those pictures are rather outdated, dear. I don't often give the authorities the opportunity to photograph me, for obvious reasons.
:protageyesshut: Um. Oh.
:lucifersmile: Might I ask how we ought to refer to you while you're here?

Oh. You still haven't really decided, but you had a few ideas. What were they?
No. 910273 ID: 1872dc

Rudi Verge, they/them. Maybe a soft commit, you don't quite know the new you yet.
No. 910274 ID: 1872dc

Also you really want a towel. Like, a lot.
No. 910275 ID: 094652

You're outta here.

No really. They needed a rogue's ID card, they took it, they don't need you anymore. You'll just take some basic necessities, a phone, and some chump change from their proclivities, and hitch a ride out of the city. You're planning on just living in the environmental reservation districts. Nobody's going to care about a street bum in Bum@#$%, Obsolete State.

You didn't get out of your job with your psychotic control-freak boss just to hook up with a textbook-insane guns-n-bombs terrorist. You wish them luck in stopping whatever is wrong with this @#$%ed-up city and you might even accept a freelance job as a contact in some other city, but if they're fighting for freedom, drafting all the rogues isn't what we'd call 'progressive'.
No. 910277 ID: 72e83e

This, why sacrifice our lives over something that we may not experience? They aren't soldiers, they don't have any men, they would lose to any megacorp worth their salt if they ever tried to bring them down.
No. 910278 ID: 1872dc

They literally asked nothing of us but to have a useless card and have at least claimed to have saved our life. Our card and an introduction are nothing.

Though I am now worried we're going to be blamed in some attack. I guess that's pretty bad. But that's a different person now. Corps probably don't care though.
No. 910304 ID: afdebc

>Lucifer Morningstar.

Important question here: what acts of terrorism are you aware of her having committed? (Allegedly, since apparently you can't trust what the powers that be have told you).

>Might I ask how we ought to refer to you while you're here?

>wreak havok with this beautiful little piece of plastic
...Please tell me that's not the only reason you helped me.
No. 910307 ID: c1eaac

micah. short for michael.
No. 910364 ID: 70df1e

No. 910372 ID: 5da03e

Micui. We're going to glitter and shimmer and be shiny in our new life.
No. 911805 ID: 986b2d
File 154321644716.png - (135.31KB , 600x600 , 11.png )

I thought icons would make my life easier but they Did Not so I'm ditching them in favor of script dialogue sorry

>"Lucifer" being a pretentious name
It occurs to you that Lucifer might be a pretentious name, but you're not entirely sure why. You don't know of anyone else with that name, but in fairness most people you know are named things like Quintus and Septimus. You guess there's the fact that from what you can tell, her first and last name kinda mean the same thing, but other than that...

>Your name

Micah: I was thinking...I'm going to go with Micah? It's, um, short for Michael, and...if you could use they/them pronouns for me, I'd like that.

You see something cross Lucifer's face, but it's too fleeting for you to get a read on the expression.

Lucifer: You have...impeccable taste in names, Micah.

>Reservations about being an accessory to terrorism

Micah: Um. Anyway, I...have some reservations.
Azza: Aaaaaaaaauuuughhhhhhhhh.
Lucifer: Don't be rude, Azza.
Micah: I just don't want...you have my NAME, like, my legal one, on that card. I don't want to be implicated if you do something horrible with my system access.
Azza: Horrible? What do you think we are?
Micah: Terrorists?

Azza laughs loudly. Lucifer places a firm hand on his shoulder.

Lucifer: Micah, dear, we aren't terrorists. That would imply that our goal is to harm the innocent, the bystander, to the end of promoting fear and chaos. Our hands are bound by the small size of our fellowship, certainly, but ours is a battle, not a livestock slaughter.
Micah: ...Okay, but your wanted posters-
Lucifer: Are falsehoods spread as propaganda. Can you recall a single specific terror attack that I am meant to be responsible for?


Lucifer: But let me be more constructive. Tell me. Why did you leave Eden Pharmaceuticals?
Micah: I really don't see how that's-
Lucifer: Bear with me.
No. 911806 ID: 986b2d
File 154321648644.png - (320.31KB , 600x600 , 12.png )

Micah: I was...still a pretty new recruit. I got transferred to a sort of secretive project team with only a few other newer workers. And uh....
Micah: I don't know how familiar you are with the data systems Eden uses, but they have this program...or it's really more of a database where they organize all their experiment data.
Micah: It's called THE TREE.
Micah: We were only given access to certain sections of the Tree, but I had...a pair of friends of mine help me hack into it.
Lucifer: And what did you find?
No. 911807 ID: 986b2d
File 154321652688.png - (307.92KB , 600x600 , 13.png )

Micah: Something I...couldn't in good conscience be a part of.

Lucifer nods understandingly, not looking even a little bit surprised.

Lucifer: Micah, the work we do here is to stop terrible things like the projects Eden runs. That's why they hate us. We won't force you to do anything, but access to that ID could save lives.
Micah: I...
Micah: Is that why you saved me?
Micah: So you could use my identification card?
Azza: For fuck's sake.
Cobweb: No! Of course not! The Coven...we help lots of people like you! Even people who never had any clearance! And there's no obligation to join or anything!

You still don't know about all this. But...at the very least, it SEEMS like the Coven might be good people. All the same though...this seems very above your paygrade. You're not sure what to do.

A) Stay and help. Let them use your ID.
B) Decide to leave, but still let them use your ID.
C) Let them use your ID. Delay deciding whether to stay or leave until you know more.
D) Leave now. Don't let them use your ID.
E) Something else...?
No. 911808 ID: 70df1e

C! let them use your ID (it sounds like thats sort of on a time constraint) and wait around to see what they do with it. If they do something good, or to combat whatever bad thing it was EDEN did, then stick around
No. 911809 ID: c1eaac

don't let them use your id until they detail to you exactly what they're going to do with it. if they get snippy about being on a time limit, tell them tough shit.
No. 911810 ID: 5da03e

They saved your bacon.

No. 911811 ID: 2af340

C what they do with it! actions speak louder than words; let this coven show you what they're all about!
No. 911817 ID: 5f3f48

In fairness, if all they wanted was system access, they could grab anyone off the street and use their card. Or steal IDs without grabbing people at all. And if all they wanted was yours, they could have taken it by force.

No. 911824 ID: e0ca8d

C. The only person I feel okay around is Cobweb and that doesn't mean it'd be fun to stick around for long. Bad catch or not, Cobweb saved you and seems to believe in helping people, the rest of the Coven needs to prove the same.
No. 911826 ID: 094652

B - You don't want to throw yourself into this, but you don't like Eden's little project and you want to do something about it. So let the "not-a-terrorist-gang" use your keycard to stop this project while you leave for greener pastures.
No. 911934 ID: dd540f

No. 914449 ID: 986b2d
File 154516359925.png - (162.42KB , 600x600 , 14.png )

Again, you consider running. It would be so easy, you think. To turn down Azza, who's been SO rude so far, to take your soon-to-be-defunct ID and run, no idea where you're going, but to be anywhere but here.

But...these people saved your life. You feel obligated to give them a chance.

You wave your hand at Azza, a "go ahead" sort of motion.

Micah: You can use my ID, but if I don't like what you're doing, I'm out of here. I still have no reason to trust you.

Azza lets out a sigh of relief and immediately starts typing something at top speed on his computer setup. On one of the displays, you see what you recognize as the interface for Eden's login portal, pages fli ckering past at lightning speed.

Micah: What are you doing?
Azza: You want me to waste my valuable time explaining what I'm doing to a total script kiddie?
Micah: I just said that I hacked the Tree. You can talk and type at the same time, so try me.
Azza: Ugh. Fine. I'm using your clearance as my entry port into the system. Then I'm going to use an existing loophole in the code to boot up your clearance to Admin and fabricate a fictional employee whose credentials we can use to get in much easier in the future. I'm covering my tracks with several pages of employment history so ACTUAL admin won't notice anything wrong when they eventually notice a terminated employee has promoted themself to admin and been rooting around in their data, and while I'm at it I'm scrubbing the subject profiles for about five or six of Eden's below-board experiments. In other words, I'm deleting the data Eden has been collecting on private SV citizens who it thinks would be good matches for its gross experiments. Then if I still have a minute, I'm throwing up a ransomware virus on the system to inconvenience the whole company for a week or so, because I'm a petty bastard. Happy?"

As little as you want to admit it...it's kind of impressive.

Micah: Did you build the virus yourself, or is it a prefab?
Azza: Who the fuck do you think I am, kiddo? Of course it's original code. Have a little respect.

Lucifer clears her throat behind you.

Lucifer: Micah, perhaps it would be best if you allowed Azazel some space to work. He will need the rest of the hour, so why don't you allow Soma to show you the lay of the land?
Micah: Oh. Okay.

Kind of a bummer. Even though Azza's a bit of a bastard, you kind of wanted to watch him work. But you figure if you're deciding whether or not to work with these people, you should get to know all of them, right?
No. 914450 ID: 986b2d
File 154516363541.png - (157.03KB , 600x600 , 15.png )

Soma pulls itself away from its workstation and approaches, and you get your first real look at it. From the neck down, it appears to be a normal person, if dressed a bit more cutely than you're used to. But the real kicker is its head: an ancient-looking television screen rather than a face. It displays words on the screen rather than speaking aloud, but you're having very little trouble discerning its tone.

Micah: Uhh, no problem. Lucifer just, um, asked you to show me around. I'm Micah.

Soma offers you a hand to lead you into the next room and befuddled, you take it. Its hand feels warm and soft, the way you'd expect a human hand to feel. You're not quite sure what to make of it.
No. 914451 ID: 986b2d
File 154516367161.png - (113.13KB , 600x600 , 16.png )

The tour has been going on for....quite some time. You've seen everyone's sleeping quarters, small dormitory-style rooms housing two people each. You've seen the kitchen, where Soma informs you the folks who need to eat go. (You think this implies that it doesn't need to eat???). You've seen the bathrooms and showers, and the repair room where Soma proudly tells you it does most of its work when it isn't at its workstation in the main room. Just when you think there couldn't possibly be anything else down here, it leads you to a final room. It's very sparse. There is a bed, which looks comfortable enough, with plain white sheets. A desk stands at the wall, with a computer atop it, and the other wall is lined with bookshelves.


Suddenly, a red light on the wall blinks, and a voice emenates from a speaker mounted in the wall.

Psyche: Soma, can I borrow you in the main room?

Before you have time to respond, it disappears down the hall.

It occurs to you that this would be a very good opportunity to snoop.

A) Snoop
B) Stay here. Do not snoop.
C) Follow Soma instead.
D) Something else?
No. 914452 ID: a64fd6

snoop, always
No. 914457 ID: 930d12

The temptation is insane, but snooping always feels so gross, and it doesn't feel deserved yet.

C. That's more interesting than waiting and enough disobedience to get over the temptation for snooping.
No. 914468 ID: afdebc

So... is Soma's appearance within acceptable bounds of what you would consider normal in this day and age, or is television-for-a-head unusual?

Snooping in someone's bedroom is pretty low, don't do that.

No. 915587 ID: 50697f

Don't snoop, we don't want to get in to deep before we know we can trust them. I'd say follow Soma

Is this cuteness unusual?
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