[h1][color=2d438e][u]Utopia[/u][/color][/h1]

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.


[h1][color=725353][i]Simon Corkill[/i][/color][/h1]

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.