Ohm
Durandals
Qia
VenusSundew
Cerera
BleedingLover
DannyBaked1428
corneredbliss
Theyra
Dark Light
It's such a sight to behold that it's advertised at a point of emphasis to tourists with even the slightest interests in seeing the sights of the new world; Chicago, in all it's technological glory, stands at the forefront of progress and represents the very latest the world's greatest minds can offer. Innovation is almost an understatement in the city and this new Chicago has enjoyed attention and benefits for all its hard work in bringing to world into a more positive technology-based future. Among its chief achievements are the rail system which revolutionized the way vehicles get around. By attaching a sophisticated electromagnetic gear system to the roof of every manufactured car, any vehicle can attach itself to a lane on the desired rail and go shooting off to their destination while still in control of acceleration and speed of movement. These rails are sprinkled throughout all facets of the city and even dance and wrap around skyscrapers at the their tallest heights, creating a much more vertically inclined metropolis. The rail system also does mostly away with car accidents as each gear is only attached to its electrically-charged line; of course, people can still switch "lanes", but it's far easier to avoid an accident when doing so than ever before.
While the rail system is one of the shining innovations of the new Windy City, metallic structures bathed in neon lights can be seen anywhere and everywhere. Even though the city is more vertical, there's nothing like a caste system in which the poor inhabit the bottom and the rich at the top. Chicago is as diverse as they come and ever since it's expansion, it has become home to many interesting types of businesses and people who choose to reside all over the place. Some even forgo the rail system to enjoy the modified road driving experience at the ground level of the city which still uses electromagnetism and gears, but to a lesser extent since ground road innovation has been geared more towards safety concerns. In effect, one can't classify Chicago as one way or another; the only true statement is that most of the more profitable businesses own skyscrapers and venues at other height levels while the more traditional folks who refuse to conform to technology reside on the ground level and without the fancy aesthetic of LED and silver.
Even despite the sheer beauty of the locale during the moonlit hours, not everyone can appreciate their surroundings. Some people are far too busy to care one way or another about the new world so long as their new conveniences aren't disturbed. Others are much too distracted to realize how lucky they are to live in such a city. On this night, one man fit exactly that description though, he would probably never use the word "lucky" in regards to residency in Chicago. In fact, almost no person would describe themselves as lucky to be living there. While no one would use such words, they also wouldn't voice such opinions aloud. For if they did, they would end up in the same situation one resident found himself in on this night...
The desperate clops of newly worn dress shoes echoed against the cobbled sidewalk of ground level Chicago. Each clop rapidly followed one another and could only be discerned as running - someone was running. The runner in question heaved breaths as his suited arms swung in wide arcs and his desperate expression begged his body to carry him faster. He passed several colorfully lit storefronts and paid no mind to the line of parallel parked cars as he dodged the random pedestrian and continued his sprint. With the way he was dressed and the bright yellow tie he wore, one wouldn't assume that he was out for some exercise that night. Somehow, his professionally cut hair stayed in place as he sharply turned a corner and entered into a dark alleyway - classically stereotypical, but not an uncommon judgement failure for a man as desperate as he was. The pursuer was nowhere in sight as the well-dressed man finally slowed and leaned on a wall for support.
Stunted coughs stumbled from the runner's throat and beads of sweat rolled down his leathery cheeks as he leaned, bent over, and tried hard to catch any breath. He eventually turned his back to smash it into the wall as he slumped down to the ground, legs spread and arms limply resting on thighs. Many thoughts ran through his tangled mind as he absentmindedly gazed at the brick wall near the entrance of the alley. It had only been a couple of minutes, but he was sure he'd lost his pursuer. When the chase began, the fiend had been much closer in distance and now he was nowhere to be found. The tired, but still well dressed, man chuckled quietly in a soft victory. He was convinced he'd lost the person who was chasing him. Convinced he could go home for the night and return to work the next day to demand answers regarding the situation.
Convinced he wasn't the raving psychopath he was being labeled as.
As he tilted his head back to relax a little, the sound of soft footsteps invaded his ear canals. Sharply, the man's head came back down to face the other side of alley where the entrance on the left was. There was only a dumpster on the wall across from the entrance and the emptiness of the square the man decided to regain his energy in suddenly felt as extremely open as it had always been. It was too late to do anything now though, The masked figure had finally appeared,adorned in all black aside from the navy blue body armor he wore. His mask was featureless and showed not even one scrap of skin, even going so far as to defy the need for eye holes. Fear gripped the slumped man's demeanor as his judge, jury, and executioner approached him at a casual stroll.
The masked man held no weapons and was empty-handed completely when he stopped at his target. He stood over the slumped and well-dressed individual, sizing him up in his desperate state. The soon-to-be victim trembled, but did not move his arms as he stared at his faceless captor. "Y-you can't do this! I'm a chair in the City Council! A chair I say!" The scared man shouted unexpectedly. The faceless man only cocked his head slightly at the statement before a human voice disguised by digitization echoed a reply.
"And that... Is exactly the reason,"
In a few quick seconds, a taser was brandished and volts of electricity were sent into the neck of the scared politician. As he fell over unconscious, the faceless man carefully put away his taser and gazed up at the stars above. It had been a productive night in the end and for that, he was eternally grateful.
Elton Devereaux was famously bitter. His annoyed demeanor seemed to radiate as he stood in one of the meeting rooms of the rather large Erasure Agency. This meeting room held a silver, oval table and black chairs with ornate, twisting and spiraled designs. The room itself was composed of extremely polished and shiny black walls with a pristine white floor - as it cleaned itself automatically every night - and silver ceiling with two rows of diamond shaped light fixtures set flush. Double doors allowed entry into the room and slid open when the proper credentials were recognized - a keycard and a handprint as were required for most areas in the Agency. Elton stood at one corner of the room on the wall opposite the wall with the double doors. His arms were folded and his back leaned on the shiny wall as his gaze bore directly into the doors. He was waiting, just like instructed.
"Nine!? Since when is a team of nine needed for any operation?" Elton almost shouted. Rhonda sighed and flipped a loose strand of brown hair back behind her ear before adjusting her slim-frame glasses. She was shorter than Elton usually, but the heels of the day put her at level for this encounter. The blue suit jacket and skirt did a wonderful job of following the curvature of her body and one would think she was trying to woo the older man's favor with the white collared shirt that accentuated what most agreed was her best asset. However, Elton remained focused on the stern face and pulled back hair of his boss. He wasn't having any of her shit today.
"It's needed when the top says it is. You know how this works. I haven't gotten all of the details yet, but for now, you're only directive is to head to meeting room B on the second floor and await the rest of the team," Rhonda replied in an eloquent and extremely articulate manner. Elton groaned.
"Even a team of four guys has a tough enough time dealing with an erasure. They have to account for all sorts of random shit rookies like to pull in the field. Why the hell would anyone think that nine people won't fuck things up beyond belief?!"
"That's none of our concern, we're only to follow orders. These people have been pulled from agency branches all over the city and I've been assured that they all bring something of a needed role to the task force we're forming,"
"There's that fucking word again,"
"Excuse me?"
"Task force,"
"Your point?"
"Task forces are only formed when there's a job that can't be done, simple as that. What the hell is so going down that requires a team of nine fucking agents to focus on one case like the damn police?"
"You have your orders, Devereaux. Follow them like the good dog you always were," Rhonda turned and walked down the suspended walkway as Elton gave a middle finger to her back and turned in the opposite direction.
"Yeah, fuck you too lady. Fuck you too,"
Elton smashed a hammer fist into the wall before resigning himself to a seat next to the head chair. Obviously he wouldn't sit in the head chair as he didn't want to hear Rhonda's mouth even more, but his mind was focused on the incoming team. He shook his head remained silently as he waited for anyone to arrive. Unfortunately for them, Elton was a man who always got the answers he sought, no matter who he had to ask. Unbeknownst to the coming members of the team, they were in for some serious scrutiny from Elton Devereaux.
He was famously bitter, after all.