A short time ago, about two weeks, the lot of you passed the initiation into the resistance. After you'd finished and passed the tests you were sent home with a few instructions. The short version being, "Go about your life as normal. Within the next four weeks you will be approached with a new set of instructions. Follow them.".

You have each received instructions too meet today on a rooftop close to the surface railway. You were given times, dates and the place. That is all. Presently, you're on your way there. It's regular cityscape and rooftops. On top of the actual building there's a squat brick wall on the roof, tracing the perimeter. There's a small glass sunlight in the center that spies on a bedroom in use, with bedsheets as tousled as it's sole occupants hair. One side of the square rooftop is taken up by a taller building, ventilation huddled at its base. No other features adorn this wall.



The ground under Simons feet was struggling to keep up as he tried to make it to the meeting spot in time. He'd had a lot of work to do back at HQ, and lost track of the time. He took the rooftops directly, to save on time. Of course, he'd be tired as shit when he got there, but that was his problem.

He stuttered to a stop. The layered edge of this building came sooner than expected. He wipes the sweat off his brow. The distance was a bit of a stretch...

The sound of rubber soled shoes against gravel filled his ears. He pushed himself into the air with as much force as he could muster, and the sore footsteps become the howling of wind in his ear. His legs miss the edge of the building, but collide with the side. Before he falls directly downwards, his hands grasp the brick that is the edge of the building. He kicks, pulls, and he's up and off in one swift movement.

The drop to the arranged meeting spot was much higher than expected, too. He got cut up palms and felt the roll bite his hip a little, but they were just scrapes. He takes out his Nokia, and ensures he was on time. He was five minutes late, although it seemed the others were as well. He sits on top of the air vents, back slouched against the wall he had just fallen from, and takes in the indifferent blue sky.

Gently, Felix felt his side, pressing the cold, nitride finished gun against his skin in its concealed holster - to steel his nerves, if nothing else. He was already a criminal, that was fine, but a political dissident? That hadn't gone so well last time, and then he'd only run away. This was like nothing he'd ever done before - these people too, like nobody he'd ever dealt with.

Apart from maybe Mira, the little firebrand.

The building itself was more likely than not completely abandoned, as evidenced by the lack of resistance to him entering it, and taking the stairs up to the roof. He wondered for a moment if the resistance would always insist on meeting in such places, and then he put the thought out of his head and opened the door to the roof, catching sight of the other man there.

"Well, hello." He grinned amiably, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Who, can I ask, are you?" He posited the question, his hands deep in his false pockets, one curling around the grip of his pistol - to steel his nerves, and nothing else.

Sandra was very much acquainted with the shady characters that inhabited this city, being the front facing hands of a bar's counter elicited plenty of opportunities to have the criminal element place itself before you. You talked with them, joked with them, winked at them and maybe sometimes you traded some harsh words that lead to someone spilling information they should have kept quiet. Makes for good blackmail material, though!

So, when this foreign redhead was approached with instructions to meet on a dark, barren rooftop with no witnesses in sight, she felt that it was a bit fishy. Then again, she allegedly took some sort of initiation test for the resistance, so... That was new. The past few weeks were a bit of a blur for her, hopefully, she wouldn't be quizzed on arrival. She was left with some doubts, some excitement, and some urges to be lazy. But, apparently her boss was coming here as well and she probably should make a good first impression for the sake of the bar.

And that brought her to this second, where, twenty minutes after finding the building in question, she stood on a window ledge looking down at the probably fatal drop, her back pressed tightly against the wall. When arriving, she had gotten it in her head that the logical next step she was to take was to scale the entire building to reach the roof. In this time of pulling herself over fences, up dumpsters and shimmying up this building's pipes, she seemed to be quite limber. "Dese resistance mooks must have some fine legs tuh do all dis fawh all deir meetin' spots..."

Soon, the current people on the roof would hear grunts of exertions as Sandra's hands came over the edge of the rooftop. A minute later, her head finally popped up, sweat dripping down her forehead, but her would-be smile dropped to a frown as she spotted something very disturbing... "Wait, THIS JOINT HAD STAIRS THE WHOLE TIME!?"

Felix blinked, taken aback at the appearance of the world's most bothersome bartender at this meeting of supposed revolutionaries. More so, he was surprised that she had apparently chosen to scale the building rather than check inside.

"Uh, yeah... most places do. You were contacted as well?"

And then, Felix frowned, looking at the other man on the rooftop - who, evidently, had also climbed the building. Or some building.

"Speaking of which, what exactly is going on here? Have I accidentally stumbled into some kind of wall climbing fetishist meeting? Why is everyone suddenly arriving to places having climbed buildings to get here?"

"Oh, I see. De little boy tinks he's a big... Smart Man becawze he knows where all de stairs are. Ya' dig?" She had to stop to huff out some air due to the climb. "Sawhry, we weren't all blessed wit' de knowledge dat dese abandoned buildings have wawhkin' stairs, asshole!" Finally, she moves towards them, stretching out her limbs and at least allowing herself the knowledge that she was able to climb the building. Unlke this guy, apparently. "Smart enough tuh know all about stairs, but not smart enough tuh take off dat squirrel whose died on his head"

"I mean... it's a building. A multistory building, built by people who - at least generally - either cannot or will not scale the side of it to get upstairs to go to the bathroom. I mean, what- what else do you expect? You didn't even check inside, what the heck? And what's this about my hair? Do you have any idea how rude you can be?"

Felix huffed at her in annoyance, his hand still discreetly wrapped around the grip of his gun, finger off the trigger, safety still on.

"As if your accent wasn't bad enough, honestly. You're meant to know English - I'm the foreigner here, after all."

"Aye, dinnae worry, you get used tae it after a while." A thick Scottish brogue echoed up the staircase, and it was followed by a lanky, dark-haired, scot. He looked around at the assembled people, those who must've received messages similar to his own. He'd known that Sandra would be there, and he had to admit that it was nice to see a familiar face. She wasn't the only one of those, though. He knew Felix. He and the detective had something of an understanding. Felix would buy drinks and leave nice tips, and Tavish would keep an ear out and violate that oh-so-sacred bartender-patron-confidentiality by telling Felix anything he might find interesting. He smirked teasingly at Sandra. "Or desensitized, anyway."

He looked at the only one of the three he didn't recognize, and he wondered briefly if it might've been smart to bring his revolver. He'd have liked the added insurance, but he didn't have a holster. He could've tucked it into the waistband of his pants, but that seemed like a good way to sit down weird and accidentally fire it off and the last think he needed was a .38 bullet to the groin.

The wind whistled past them, sounding like a lone man's whimper. Maybe it was a lone man's whimper? The air conditioning unit that Simon was sitting on hummed as it directed some of the sorrowful air into the building they were on.

No distant sirens sounded, and all seemed well.



Simon slinks off the air con unit, and ehters the small circle the group has made. Each person had already proven one thing about them, and he intended on letting them know.

"Felix, you can keep that gun. For the love of god though, don't shoot anyone here. We're all here as allies, and a bad hair day is not an excuse to go shooting her.", he sniffled and wiped his nose before continuing. The cold air was getting to him now the adrenaline had worn off. "That aside, you've each shown something to me that could prove valuable already. It's looking positive for you. Sandra, Nice work scaling the building. Shows you can do the exact thing we need a runner to do. Felix, good logic behind using the stairs. You can do problem solving, congratulations. And Tavish, you seem to recognise both of these people. On top of that, you seemed to shut Felix up. So good job on that", he smiled as he said those last words, showing he was only half joking.

Felix's eyes narrowed slightly as he relinquished his grip on the gun. Usually he was discreet enough for his carry piece to go unnoticed - a necessity, firearms laws in Utopia being what they were. Either he was being unsubtle, or...

"Very perceptive." He nodded politely in Simon's direction. "I'm used to going unnoticed, even by the police. You've been doing this for a while, haven't you?"

Felix's eyes shifted to the others, reexamining them. He knew them both well enough now, and it dawned on him that what the third party was saying was true. Sandra, though not without issues, was oddly athletic, coordinated, and quick witted. Tavish was likeable and social - and capable of packing heat too; Felix had no illusions about the man's own illegal firearms ownership.

The only really unknown factor was their new contact.

"So what are you? Employer? Leader? How does all this work, and what do we get to know?"

She rolled her eyes at Felix, treating what he was saying as if he were a simpleton making only the most obvious of mistakes. "I get it, you're a 'genius'. I'm sure your momma gives yuh de best stickers, now can we act like adults about dis, or what?" At his protest against the insult on his hair, she simply shrugged. Did he have to be so whiny? "Look, it's pretty simple. If you're gonna take a bunch of moldy cabbages from de trash cans, put dem on your head and call 'em hair, expect people tuh say how much ya stink. Yuh got me so fahr? Hey, what's wrong wit' my accent? Racist."

"Aha I got here befawh yuh, yuh fat bastard" Sandra belted out, pointing vigorously at the sudden entrance of her boss, gloating like a child who just won a particularly riveting game of tag. Wel, before she immediately keeled over to breath on the floor. "Oh god, I tink I knocked my kidney out of place on de way up..." Naturally, to tell her sides to stop bitching, she started punching them. "Dat-... Dat's right... I'm as cunnin'... As a cunnin' fox... And can run wit' de best of dem..."