[center][h2][color=pink]Mira[/color][/h2]
(learning to format by example - if it looks like I'm confused about how to do this, that's because I am!)[/center]
Is there something going on in Nova City?

Mira is enjoying, or suffering, one of those extended periods of idleness that being on call for Milicor sometimes offers her. When it rains, it pours, but this is shaping up to be a week off. Not from her other job - audience retention is an insatiable demand - but it's as close as she gets. And yet - and yet... is this just boredom? Is it unease? The stream is just half an hour out. What's biting her?
She stands atop the tallest building she knows how to scale in the Harwood district, an empty establishment that might've once been government property - a library, maybe, but no longer recognizable, its insides gutted by the locals, the rest never demolished after all these years. A bat's nest.
[sub][color=lightskyblue]"User alert."[/color][/sub]
[color=pink]"Yes, Faraday?"[/color]
[sub][color=lightskyblue]"Affirmative."
"User alert."[/color][/sub]
[color=pink]"Yes- what is the alert?"[/color]
[sub][color=lightskyblue]"Reminder: high volumes of emergency sirens are a reliable sign of potential danger."[/color][/sub]
...is [i]that[/i] it?
She tunes in to the background noise of police sirens. Her home in Sendero was typically pretty quiet - beyond it, she's always understood that there's supposed to be crime around every corner. She [i]has[/i] heard them pretty much continuously since she got here tonight. Is that normal? She can't remember - she's been through this district a few times before, but she can't remember what it's supposed to sound like.
She takes her sniper scope out of her jacket pocket. The rifle is packed away elsewhere, but she never leaves home without the scope.
Lights. There's a cluster of police lights, reflecting off the rain and the rooftops not so far off. She primes her legs to start jumping. This might need a look.
[hr]
[i]A sunny green countryside. Rolling hills interspersed with trees. Grazing animals of an era soon to leave living memory.
From the boughs of the furthest tree, a flare of light. A glint of a scope.
Chat starts the countdown from 60. Scattered all over the world, the bored and lonely grab drinks and snacks and settle in.[/i]
[color=pink]"Hey, guys. Got a surpriiise for you todayy."[/color]
Mira slowly uncovers her eyes, giving everyone a live feed of the alley's cement.
[color=pink]"First you gotta guess what it is. Two hints: I don't have my rifle, and I'm keeping all my clothes on. Go."[/color]
10,000 viewers sitting behind her eyes set to their usual work being stupid, wrong, creepy, and occasionally perceptive. Foodstream? Urban exploration? Is she taking her clothes off? And that emote they haven't stopped using since she added it - her own viewer count in her rifle's crosshairs.
[color=pink]"Come on, you guys can do it. This one's really, really easy. You always jump at the most ridiculous ideas. Think of something crazy."[/color]
A murder scene.
[color=pink]"Murder's right!"[/color]
She looks up and at the scene she's been smelling up close for the past minute and a half. She just missed the last of the investigation as they trucked the body away - nothing left but white tape, yellow tape, and a slow red current headed downhill.
[color=pink]"Faraday and I are right on the heels of the cops, investigating what looks like a dead hooker. Didn't get a look at her face, but we had a glimpse of the rest of her - does anybody know a hot blonde? If you do, sorry, she's probably dead."[/color]
O_O that's a lot of blood! Was this your work? Who did it? Where is this? Are you blonde? Oh no my gf is hot
[color=pink]"Wasn't me, and I'm not telling where we are just yet. We're gonna play detective together. Now, I don't know anything about blood spatters - I just make them for a living - but doesn't this look extra violent to you all? Not a shooting, right?"[/color]
So it goes: another routine murder for the police, another hit of blood money for Pink Dot, another life washing away into the sewers of dystopia.
But is it that simple?
Mira chatters away; the chat froths and babbles like the water. All the while, she swears she's missing something else. The sirens are gone, the streets are clear, but her senses are still on edge. Maybe something beyond sight, sound, smell. She's feeling... something else.
There is something going on in Nova City.