[IC] Daily Dose of Emotion

[GrayPayday]

"Good mooooorning!" a man's voice boomed through the speakers of personal radios and public stereo systems littered throughout the whole of the city. "This is Inside and Out with Rodney and Sarah, bringing you the official morning news!" Like always, a short, light jingle followed. "Today, we have a lot to discuss. Isn't that right, Sarah?"

"That's right, Rodney," an equally-chipper woman's voice responded. "We have lots of coverage of the Inner City Fashion Show."

"I was there," Rodney's voice cut in. "Lemme tell you that 'coverage' was the last thing on those girls' minds. They were beauties! Not as beautiful as you though, Sarah."

Sarah faked a laugh. "After that, we have an exclusive interview with director Kang Sang-Ki as he details how he went from directing online videos to directing major motion pictures."

"But let's get started with our top story of the day," Rodney cut in. "New emotions, coming soon! We have one of our government's top researchers here to give us insider details on the new emotions hitting the shelves, as well as some updates to some old ones! Dr. Tetsuya Sakaguchi is here with the details. Doctor, can you give us some insight into some of the new emotions you'll be bringing to us in the coming months?"

A strong, bass voice began to echo through the speakers. "It's funny that you say that," the doctor began. "Insight will be one of our forerunners for this year's new releases. It promises a calm, introspective look on the past, present, and future. We want to promote understanding with this year's line-up, and insight will give many creative and critical thinkers that extra boost they need."

Rodney faked a laugh. "I know I could use some. But now we need to hear a word from some of our sponsors. Stay tuned for more with the good Doctor, including the release dates you've been waiting for!"

---

Cool winds breezed through the city. It felt cold, it felt dead. Then again, most things did these days, but it was a matter of perspective. To those lucky enough to have access to emotion, it was surely much better. Old and dried up leads crinkled and crunched with every step under a young woman's brown loafers, as her eyes peered up towards the loud public radio speaker up on a telephone pole. The sound was low quality, but she was able to decipher what the radio hosts were saying.

As she listened in, she began to look at her surroundings. Rundown, nearly unlivable houses, with dead yards. The air even seemed grey with the smog and despair... Glass clattered into the street as she kicked it out of her way on the sidewalk, a usual occurence as the entire area was littered with it. Her ears perked up at the mention of new emotions being released, before sighing and catching herself before she began to spiral. No, Trinity you've made a lot of progress... You won't need it... She was more just trying to convince herself, instead of actually believing it.

Shaking her head, she trudged forward, holding a large brown paper bag of groceries closer to her chest. She'd been clean for a few weeks now, but still found herself considering that small bottle of Peace she hid under her bed. But for now, she had kept from letting the temptation take over. As the broadcast continued on Trinity looked out on the horizon towards the Inner City skyline. It was pristine and flashy, and a part of her longed to be there too. To have access to liquid emotions without consequences... It was something that she hoped for since she was a little girl. But she knew just how badly it affected those outside.. out in this hellhole. It wasn't fair, and she knew there needed to be a change.

Eventually she turned and made her way towards a halfway decent house, pulling a key from her pocket to unlock the front door and make her way inside, using her foot to close the door behind her. "Blank...?! I'm back with the groceries!" She called out, heading directly for the kitchen to put the groceries away.

[Captain Red]

Blank, P.I.

A loud screech permeated through Blank’s heavy skull as Trinity opened the front door, rocking his eyeballs and jolting him out of his drunken sleep. Long ago, he had rigged the simple security system, which triggered a short but piercing alarm through a speaker embedded into his pillow. He had never told anyone how to circumvent it, nor did he have any plans to. The price of this vigilance, however, was the feeling that someone had cracked his head open with a sledgehammer. His mouth was dry, his bladder was full, and his stomach growled with nauseating discontent at the amount of poison that had passed through it the night before. This was usually how Blank started his days.

He heaved himself off the couch in his room. The blackout curtains shut out any source of natural light, which he was extremely grateful for. The only source of light at all was the dim blue light coming from the monitor of his laptop, which sat open on his desk. It was more than enough for him to slowly walk into the attached bathroom, and relieve himself. He glanced around hazily and noted that he should clean it sometime soon. Ever since he let her move in, Blank had left the guest bathroom for her use and limited himself to this one. That way she could keep her bathroom up to her feminine standards, while he could do whatever he wanted in his. Normally, he would tell her “put up with it or find somewhere else to live,” but even he was not so tyrannical as to force her to put up with his piss stains and pubic hair.

Blank found and slipped on the pants he wore the previous night, tucked his gun into his waistband behind him, and pushed himself out his bedroom door. He heard Trinity putting away groceries in the kitchen, so he stumbled down the hallway and through the living room, onto the neat white tile of the kitchen. “Hey,” he grumbled at her, holding out his hand expectedly. “Receipt and change.”

Every time they needed groceries, Blank left the money and a list on the counter. He always gave her more money than was needed and always demanded a receipt. He claimed it was for business purposes, but really he was checking to see if she was taking any for herself. If she was, then he would kick her out. He didn’t give a shit about the money, but he wouldn’t tolerate anyone stealing from him. It was never anything he had explicitly told her, but he wondered if she had figured it out yet. Was it cruel to test a former addict? Regardless, these were his terms. Trust had to be earned slowly and steadily, and everybody started with not just zero, but negative trust, as far as he was concerned.

[GrayPayday]

Trinity's head was in the fridge as Blank walked in, putting away a few veggies in the crisper drawer. As soon as she heard his heavy footsteps on the kitchen tile, she closed the drawer and the refrigerator door, turning to the man who was kind enough to take her in. She reached into her front pocket, pulling out a neatly folded receipt along with a few bills. Once handed over, she went back to sorting through the big paper bags of groceries.

"You gave me a bit extra again, I hope you don't mind that I got us some oranges with it... You never really ask me to get fruits and it'd be good to incorporate into our diet." Normally she never strayed from Blank's grocery list, having a feeling he always asked for the receipt to double check he received all his change... either out of frugality or ensuring she doesn't steal from him. She wasn't entirely sure but was heavily leaning towards the latter. And she wouldn't lie, trying to snag a couple of bucks once in a while was tempting, merely because she didn't have a cent to her name, and working as Blank's assistant only paid for the roof above her head and the food she had to eat. And she'd forever be grateful, but having nothing in this world that she could call hers besides the clothes on her back wasn't a particularly great feeling.

One by one she pulled food items out of the bags. Bread... Eggs... Milk... Cream... Instant coffee... She thought each and every item to herself as she pulled them out, double checking mentally that she brought home everything.

[Ribbon]

Tapping. Tapping.

Fingernails clinking against the polished wood of her desk, dark eyes focused with a sheer intensity on a computer screen, waiting with tensed muscles for those files to finally send.

Tapping. Tapping. Had time stopped? It was sure starting to feel like it.
And it was sure starting to get to her.

Demi slowly stood up from her chair, her face's utterly blank look betraying her clenched hand and grinding teeth as she grabbed a pair of scissors off her desk and made her way to the other side of the room.

Her room was actually an office: a velvet-curtained window just behind her chair gave her a lovely overview of the city below, the walls exquisitely painted with proper care and attention to color and tone, the odd painting hung along those very same walls. Her large, imposing desk sat in the very middle, its exquisite, shining hardwood make taking up much of the room. Pens, stacks of paper, scissors, hole punchers and office supplies galore take up much of its space, the rest alloted to her personal computer, itself chugging dutily along to send those files she needed sent.
Indeed, it was a beautiful room, with lovely decor fitting her station.. though she put none of it there.
It was simply there when she got her position.

Indeed, she only added one thing to the office.. the hanging target dummy she ferociously drove her scissors into. Just another of many, many holes on the poor thing.

That felt better.
Demi, Chief Minister of the Ministry of Peace, returned to her desk to check on the progress.

The Ministry is a pivotal government organization within the Inner City, one of few who answer to none but the highest authorities within the Government. Their task? To enforce peace and order within the Inner and Outer city. Peace.. order.. compliance.. addiction.. fear.. all end with satisfactory results, so it's their job to sow those seeds along every inch of the Government's property.
And under Demi's watchful gaze, the harvest was bountiful indeed.
But try as she might, there's always someone out there sowing discontent instead.. discontent with their glorious city, their measured grip on the emotion of Man, the distribution of such..
And even worse, the whispers of rebellion.
Nothing brought the blood flowing through her veins to a hotter boil than that.

Her gaze slowly fell to the empty bottles in her open drawer. Her alloted emotions for the day.. pride, joy, peace. All empty.
She was an obedient girl. Whatever orders came from above the ladder, she followed to the letter. When they gave her a measured amount of emotions for the day, she accepted graciously: nothing she wasn't used to. Just another example of her glorious government's system working right.

But she was starting to feel those emotions slip away; withdrawal.

A little jingle from her computer, and her black eyes darted to the monitor; the week's report on the Ministry's status had finally sent.
She was strictly forbidden by higher ups to do anything else until the reports were in.. but now, she has plenty of free time.
And she needs a distraction from the small twitches of withdrawal kicking in.

Demi slowly approaches the door to her office, pulling her official uniform off the hook before slipping it on in a fluid, rehearsed motion. With just a flick of her wrist, something falls from her right sleeve and into her waiting hands.. a baton.

Why, yes.. a night out sounds wonderful to her.

It's time to pay the outer city a visit.