Welcome to Europa, the neon city of the future, host to our neo-noir adventure; blurring the lines between good and evil, right and wrong. Ideas that are what you make it in a world where ideas are dangerous with revenge, paranoia and alienation recurring, dominant images.
The end of Industrialization and shift in product demographic have lead to a clear divide between rich and poor, like never before seen in history, visible in almost all aspects of modern living, unavoidable. Advances in the fields of medical science and technology over the last two centuries have increased lifespans and seen a reduction in mortality rates. World population has more than doubled and rising, little land mass is left unpaved, adding to the vast mega-metropolis' that make up the core of 'countries' governed by private mega-corporations having left behind traditional politics a shift that gradually made itself prominent with the world going in a more service-based direction.
Almost but entirely wiping out sense of national identity outside of a few small pockets. The breakdown and reformation of social order as known in the 21st century juxtaposed with the advanced technological and scientific achievements that have propelled mankind into a new high tech age. The neo-futurism movements of old from literature, film and art inspired much of the world we see today's high value on art and architecture, a departure from post-modernism adhering to the idealistic belief of a better future through a need to periodize modern rapport with technological advancement taking precedent.

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District21 - the district that never sleeps.
DEC 15 2302 / 1800h / Dusk

The district that never sleeps, where the party never has to end. The possibilities are endless for those seeking to lose a few credits and probably not even remember it happening. From the hundreds of casinos to the infamous red light quarter where anything goes for the right price. Outside of the 'zone' as it's known by locals is where the enders begin, crime is high which on occasion floods into the inner zone although the latter is much more heavily policed. Enders are rarely seen in the zone and while not openly refused are discouraged by other means.

Word through the grapevine is a popular man has been causing a stir-up recently, having come out of hiding a once renowned bio-engineer gone crook. Primarily a con-artist, who while having other endeavors has built himself quite the reputation. There's no shortage of District21 dweller's or outsiders flocking to the zone with their own bone to pick with 'The Engineer'. Others seek him out for their own motives or hidden agendas.

Attention. We have arrived at District21 Zone Station H . Please depart in an orderly fashion.

Three successive beeps and the doors glided open as the train came to a full halt, packed to the brim as always, Yuri had made sure to stay standing near the door. Walking through the station he brought up the display on his phone, credits from last weeks business had come through, he sighed, swiping up to his finance application. He pressed down on the screen and the device bleeped a message popped up confirming he had moved 750 credits successfully to his landlord’s account. He began to ponder on whether his roommate had paid up his half this month. Bleep. A message, ‘Other half?’

“Fuck.” Yuri murmured under his breath, ‘Fucking junkie.’ He slid the phone back into his pocket and secured his bag, reassuring himself with it’s weight. Weapons weren’t approved of in the zone, he had the ‘documents’ needed to get him where he needed to go, if he was stopped no authorities would ask too many questions – was the idea. He approached the station house, TPA, the travel branch of the policing agency, were checking passports and conducting spot checks on suspicious characters. It wasn’t anything new, this was pretty standard, considering the reputation of the place security was relatively low-key here, not that it couldn’t be summoned quickly enough.
The line moved along steadily until a male deemed suspicious was stopped, officers had drawn weapons and the guy was standing there hands up, gear-bag flung over being retrieved by another officer. It was the same eerie quietness that always fell among a crowd when something like this happened. They watched but didn’t really react, who was this guy? Why would they risk their skin for his? Yuri peaked through the fencing that lined the queue, examining the guy, mildly augmented, relatively normal looking kind of guy. He got thinking, there must have been something in that bag. The crowd looked on as the suspect was hauled away, it was light depending on what he was being detained for, in some places you’d just be shot on sight, at least in areas where the fuss it caused wasn’t public knowledge.

“Passport?” A female inspector, a little shorter than Yuri, plain expression on her face it was hard to gauge someone like that. Her voice monotonous probably from droning on the same things all day, every day.

“Yeah, here.” Yuri replied, reaching into his back pocket, arousing the suspicions of the inspector which quickly subsided as he pulled out what was indeed a passport. She took it from him, and glanced between the photo, details and Yuri’s face, she took a device from her side and scanned the document, a momentary glance and she handed him back his papers.

“You can go ahead.” She gestured through the partition in the fence that lead to the rest of the station-house and the zone, catching a glimpse at his bag as he walked past and eyeing him with an interested look about her. Past the line, Yuri re-opened the display on his phone, going into contacts and calling ‘Greg’. No answer, he put away the phone once more as he exited the station-house, it was late, after midnight. Neon lights flashed and the noise of the hustle and bustle was incredible even at this time, from the elevated position of the station you could see vehicles making their way across vast streets lined with shops all lit up and flashing, the pedestrianized zones that ran alongside the roads littered in stalls people all trying to sell their produce and products.. As he made his way over to the taxi ranks he examined the people coming to the zone, he wondered how many out of the tens of thousands flocking here from other districts were here for the self-dubbed ‘Engineer’.

"Where am I taking you, tonight, sir?” A robotic voice asked as Yuri slipped into the passenger seat, he glanced seeing the droid driver and laughed a little, a grin crossing his face.
“The Lucky Sevens.” He got himself belted in, dropping his bag onto the floor space between his legs. Vest. Rifle, Ammo, Knife. Some of the items being carried around in the gear-bag along with his HUD helmet. His fatigues while military in style could pass for fashion of the era, and did not match the colour code and lacked the markings of Koporat18 due to the nature of his ‘contract’. It would have been a different story if he’d been entirely geared up, ready for action. The handgun that was tucked at the back of his trousers left him feeling uncomfortable, he took a quick glance around the cab to pinpoint the position of the cameras and eyed the droid, unsure whether it also could see and report. He shifted the firearm from the back taking it in his hand, and tucking it back in around the front, pulling his jacket down over it.
“Here for the, nightlife?” The computerized voice spoke, the robots head pivoting to look at Yuri in the seat beside him. He was leaned against the door, glancing back at the robotic face, comfortable up until now.

“Yeah, you could say that.” He replied, sitting up straight in his seat, no longer feeling at ease relaxing.

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Yuri woke up, the room was small like most around here unless you paid out mega credits, at least it was a single room, he wouldn’t trust sharing with five strangers. He checked his phone it was already after 6, he’d slept all day. Standing by the blinded windows he stretched before putting on a light bulletproof vest he had procured from a salesman the night before. He didn’t want to walk the city kitted out, it was too obvious, too suspicious, he slipped his handgun into the waistband of his trousers and kept his knife in one of his jacket pockets, slipping into his boots and leaving the room, a message alerting Yuri to meet with a local Korporat handler in the area decided his course of action.

More and more he was beginning to feel like one of Korporat’s drones, he didn’t like this arrangement one bit, espionage in the name of K18 without anyone to fall back on if caught, just a terrorist or whatever way the controlled media wanted to paint it. Still, it was better than imprisonment.

Yuri wandered the streets,with the noise and life of this place experienced in the last couple of days He was beginning to understand why they called it the city that never sleeps. He took in how tall everything was here, advertising taking up just about every bit of wall space fitting some form or description. Scantily dressed human and cyborg women flirted with passerby drawing them into casinos, Yuri gave a wink to a girl enticing him to come and spend his credits as he passed on by.

Kaytlin traipsed through one of the many Red Light quarters of District 21’s Zone. The syndicate she was attached to had sent her here with a purpose, she wasn’t after the now infamous con that had everyone foaming at the mouth recently. This job was different to what she usually undertook, something about it seemed more malicious than an ordinary hit or even any of the felonies she’d commited for the syndicate. The task at hand had her shaken, her pessimistic side clawing away at her brain, dominating her thoughts about being caught for something of this level. This was sending a message.

Sticking to the shadows, Kaytlin made her way through alleys and side streets in an attempt to evade unwanted attention. Hood pulled up, her helmeted face was left mostly hidden from view also concealing the sword which was sheathed on her back. Suddenly, her attention was snatched by wolf-whistles and jeers, her eyes rolled back in her head; not one to turn down confrontation she turned on her heels. Her HUD picked up four males in her vicinity, no visible or recognizeable weapons, it was probably a stag do now so fueled up on alcohol and CHEMS they thought they’d hit the streets to look at some skirt. She smirked behind her mask, shadowed by the hood, the men continued to approach, harmless she was sure and she didn’t have time to mess around. Turning to leave a bottle flew overhead and smashed next to her, the remains of the alcohol inside weren’t enough to get on her from the distance it had landed. More jeers came her way, ‘Get em out!’, ‘Come give us a go!’, ‘We’ve got something for you right here sweetheart!’

Kaytlin turned once more, this time closing the distance between her and the group, they were laughing, “Decided to come and join us then?” one of the men asked, when within arm’s reach of the male who had just spoken and in view of the rest, she pulled back the right side of her jacket revealing the shotgun, the bag slung on her shoulder jossled, it’s contents shaking about.
“Sure.” She replied, her tone almost sweet despite the obvious venom behind it. The group were taken back and began retreating away from Kaytlin.

“Woah.” Their apparent leader voiced, “We’re just having a bit of fun, no need for that.” Kaytlin gestured with a nod in the opposite direction that they should move on back where they came from and they did, swiftly. She came to the end of the alley and found herself at a busy cross section of a high-street. Vendors were everywhere, some had stalls others just walking around, there were even more people, at least the noise and how busy this street was it would be easy to get around without attracting much attention. Kaytlin skulked through the crowd, dodging people engrossed in their phones, remembering to check for hers every now and then, she would have to make a call soon enough. Head down she bumped into someone, looking up to see an EPA officer looming over her, he must have been at least a foot taller than her. She uttered something equivalent of an apology under her breath and kept going, making it to the next closest side street.

As she turned the corner, she double backed over her shoulder, her HUD caught sight of the policeman who now had another with him and were making their way towards the alley. Kaytlin took another few calm steps before taking off into a sprint, nearly crashing into the wall at a sharp bend. She leaped at the next hanging ladder of a fire escape she came across, just latching on she pulled herself up and climbed the staircase, the two police had come into the alley and had just spotted Kaytlin, beginning to jog her way, one going down a different street probably trying to cut her off. She continued climbing the rickety metal stairwell bolted onto the corner of the building her plan to reach the roof until she came across an open window. Instinctually she leaped through, rolling along the tiled floor of a kitchen, right in the middle of a family eating their evening meal. She shared a locked eye contact with the shocked renters and took off dashing again as the ringing of babies crying came to her heightened sense of hearing. Kaytlin found the front door and left, going down the stairwell of the apartment building she had found herself in, an extension on one of the many shop fronts from the high street. She pushed open a fire exit door and left through a private back alley seemingly only meant to be accessed by residents. Just as the adrenaline levels died down and her heartrate returned to normal she felt a firm grip clamp down on her shoulder. She froze, not wanting to instigate any sudden meltdown of the situation, Kaytlin raised both her hands above her head, letting go of the strap of her bag although keeping it around her shoulder.
“Citizen.” The officer began, turning Kaytlin around to face him, “Remove your hood.” Kaytlin pulled down the hood revealing the helmet as the officer took the bag off of her and opened it, “What’s this?” He asked, looking at the grenades, ammunition and enough explosives to take out a small building. The officer looked back to see Kaytlin’s masked face, “And the helmet!” He roared, gun pointed at her about to radio in the find to nearby units. Kaytlin without hesitation leaned in as the opportunity arose, disarming the officer and using his own weapon against him.

“Don’t.” She spoke softly, almost a whisper, “Don’t radio that in.” Kaytlin gestured to the gun as she walked closer and placed it against the officers head, only protected by a visor that certainly wasn’t bulletproof, a regular joe patrol officer of the EPA. The officer was frozen, slowly raising his own hands in a state of surrender, the turn of events was ironic, “Turn around.” She hushed in the same tone, “On your knees.” The EPA officer dropped to his knees with an almost melodramatic flair, Kaytlin swallowed, she thought she’d just begun to hear him speak some last words before she pulled the trigger. The shot was nowhere near as loud as what her shotgun would have made, but had still been heard by those nearby, a momentary silence grew over the place, there were probably more EPA heading right this way as the rest of society moved on. She ran, with the gun in hand, not wanting to leave it at the scene of the crime as a crimson trickle pooled from the hole in the dead man’s helmet. At this stage, one would be inclined to abort mission however Kaytlin was now driven, it was almost as if the extra effort drove her to complete it, even if it’s morality was something she herself was unsure she could justify.

@SmileyJaws



It started as a perfect night. A job , a roof , a sniper rifle and a target. Everything was well. The target, a known mob leader that wronged someone with enough money to order him killed, was about to arrive with 4 guards to meet their police lialison. Crooked cops. Just what I like were Alexis's words when she took the contract. She lived enough on the street to know how bad crooked cops are for people that lived on the streets were. Always turning a blind eye if one that lived on the streets would be killed.
The target arrived as planned and she took her sniper rifle out and was about to take the shot when suddenly, two guards from the building she was on the roof of, "appeared" on the roof.
As soon as they saw her they took out their pistols and took a few shots at Alexis. Luckly these guards didn't have a great aim and Alexis rolled to the left and in a practised manner she took out her pistol putting two bullets in their heads.
Quickly she went to her sniper rifle only to see that her target and its guards entering an armored car and left in it, probably scared by the sound of the pistols the guards had.
Alexis cursed under her breath and packed her sniper rifle quickly before the real police arrived and make her already ruined night worse.



Alexis was moving through the packed streets of District 13. On her way towards her handler to strangle him for giving her bad information.
She approached a beggar and he looked up her and said with a horse voice.

" A credit for a soul of a wicked flower "

Alexis nodded and said the counter-phrase in a metallic voice created by her helmet.

" Here is one in the hopes that the sun will shine again upon the wicked flower ".

The beggar nodded and gave her a message that was written on real paper.
Alexis took the paper and it read :

Mission aborded. Someone leaked information about you. The contractor said he is sorry and he got a new contract if you wish to accept it. District 21. The Engineer. You'll be given an ID to pass through the guards at the entrance. Need to go there fast. It's an open contract.

Alexis cursed again for the incompetence behind the mission. She should've got this message a few hours ago. As usual something had to go wrong on a well paying job. 2000 credits gone in an instant because of an idiot and now another job ?
An open one this time...



The District that never sleeps. The kind of district that her old self would've loved and the kind of district that's perfect to hide in for her target.
She passed through the security checkup with ease due to her new ID. Costly but good. Her contractor really needs her target dead, very much.
Hopefully the information was scarse so the chanses for bad info was small. Too small to be a problem. Hopefully .

Terminal accessed...
Connection opened. Awaiting response...
Mission(s) found. Retrieving...
Decrypting...
Connection closed.

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Location: District-21
Time: 15-12-2302
Adrian wandered the Enders. In his younger years, he used to walk through the central parts. Where you only stopped partying to sleep. Hell, even then most would stop dancing in drug induced dream. If you wanted drugs, district-21 was the best place in the West. Lax regulations, uncaring cops and a shady underworld fitting like a ring around the centre made sure that anything that can get cooked up will be at your disposal. The old man couldn't say he was particularly surprised when he noticed nothing changed. The drug lords profited on parties and district 21 has been partying for decades now. Of course, paired with the drug came the violence. Which the drug lords carefully kept within the borders of the Enders. Killing in Central would be bad for business. Still, as Adrian walked through the slums, he couldn't help but see a few burned out windows. Fire was a good way to clear out labs. Those places were filled with chemicals. Professional labs keep the most dangerous substances behind fireproof, locked, reinforced doors. In district 21? Hell, if they were placed in a closet the lab would be considered upscale. So the oldest trick in the book was applied. Kick down the door and throw a burning bottle inside. The molotov cocktail hadn't been changed for over 4 centuries now. Mostly because it's effective, cheap and quick.

Adrian knew all this because he carried out a few raids himself in the zone. Which meant he made some allies, but also a whole lot of enemies. Not that he cared much. He was a man that just took what he wanted and cleared out. If anyone had a problem with it, he moved swiftly to solve it. Adrian entered a bar that looked at weathered as he was and took his place at the counter. "A whiskey." was all he asked. The patron couldn't care less. Adrian wasn't a regular, so wasn't worth his time. He just poured the glass and shoved it towards Adrian. Who dutifully paid his 10 credits. The stuff was vile, raw and burned his throat. Too much alcohol, too little of something else. That, and it could use some ice. But this was the stuff from the Enders. Where men didn't drink to celebrate. They drank to forget. To feel numb. Hours past and the bar got crowded. It quickly got rowdy and loud. But Adrian kept silent. Seemingly without any indication, he walked out and pulled one of his cigarettes. In this time and day, they were both expensive and entirely replaced by eCigs and the like. "Hey, man! Spare a cig for a bro?" Some punk kid asked with a far too big smile. In a second Adrian examined him, as he held out his carton. Second-grade clothing, like most of the Ender residents. But lots of bling. Shiny belt, rings heavy necklace. The kid made top bucks. That and he asked for a cigarette. Cigs were still smoked as a sign of wealth. Especially among the lower classes. "Light?" the kid asked, and Adrian obliged.

For a moment it all stayed quiet. Both men puffed some smoke into the damp night sky. The cloud illuminated by the fading neon, and the only streetlight that wasn't broken. "A man of taste, I see?" Adrian asked, as he puffed another cloud into the air. "Must mean you're a man of wealth too." A man, with a girl on each of his arm walked out of the bar, completely ignoring the two smoking men. "A hommie gotta do what he gotta do to survive in this world, right?" Adrian silently agreed. "So what you sell?" The youngster eyed him, trying to get a grasp at the trenchcoated guy who was far too old to be wandering the Enders. "Yo man, you from the cops or something? Listen, doc said he cleared me. Check the name, man. Alejandro." "I'm not a cop." "Then what you on about asking about stuff man! You got cigs, walk in the trenchcoat. What next, a gun?" Adrian felt tempted. But instead he just threw his half-smoked cigarette into the ground and stamped it out. "Where can I find your... doc?" He did not expect cooperation. "Listen man, I'm out of-" the man couldn't finish his sentence, before a right hook landed right on his jaw. "The shit man!?" he cried out, as he laid out on the ground. With a leather shoe on his check. Pressing down. "The engineer. Where?"

"I don't know! Okay! I don't know! He contacts me! He moves his lab! From terrain to terrain. Okay! The guy cooks some fine stuff but he also makes some crazy! More crazy than good stuff actually! He's constantly on the run! So when he needs to spread some stuff he calls me!" Adrian kneeled down next to the kid, taking him by the cheeks with his hand, examining him. "You've ever been in a fight?" The kid looked confused but nodded yes. "Lost?" He nodded no. "Now you have." With one fell strike, he hit the kid in the eye with enough force to ensure he would get a black eye. After that he dropped a card on the kid's chest. "When he calls, you tell me." It wasn't a request. After that, he walked out into the shadows again.

@Doc Doctor

Andreas brought his breathing down and listened, he wasn't going to be caught peaking from his hiding place. He heard a slumping sound, like weight hitting the ground and risked looking. He saw the taller man now hunched over the other.
"Right then, allow me to rephrase my inquiry. Tell me where the Engineer was last seen, or I'll have you feet up."

Andreas listened in, he'd get the information he needed and go, all he had to do was stay here a little longer - with any luck he'd beat this Xil Gil to the location and then stay one step ahead of him. If push came to shove, he wouldn't be too far behind Xil and could confront him if there was a need after they found the elusive engineer; no need to make himself known now.

The Velvet Grove. Andreas recognized the name, he'd partied there his first night a few days ago in the zone. For all he knew he'd probably bumped into, come across or even socialized with his objective and be none the wiser. He pondered on it, but only for a moment as more ruckus distracted him, Andreas once again peaked from his cover and caught sight of the man being kicked violently to the ground before his assailant wrapped his hands around his neck and began to squeeze. Xil spoke but to Andreas it sounded like nonsense although had the undertone of causing harm or worse. Instinctively his grip tightened further on his handgun, for a brief moment he almost ran out and confronted Xil Gil - But why? Who was this man to him other than a stranger among a society that put little to no respect on life, humans were a dime a dozen. His grip loosened as he reminded himself to stick to the plan but kept his eyes on the event as it went down.

As Andreas watched, it would have been no more than a couple of seconds when something came over him that he couldn't quite explain. He brought himself upright, boots scraping off the gravel and focused his sights on the back of the cyborg's head, taking quick steps towards him, "Enough!" His voice was amplified but not quite shouting, a commanding tone. Shit. Hindsight was a curse, or it seemed especially so now at least, Andreas immediately regretted the action and was still dumbfounded as to why he'd acted.