05-30-2017, 11:51 PM
Akira quickly dipped into an alleyway to summon something he was pretty sure he needed. Not five minutes later, the young man was holding a schoolbag with a very familiar set of clothes stored inside it. If the Omniverse wasn't going to give him the Joker outfit automatically, he'd just make the thing himself. He was intimately familiar with the black coat, grey shirt, black slacks, polished leather shoes, and blood-red gloves, and the bone-white mask with black accents decorating the edges and eyes was practically his signature at this point. He slung the bag over his shoulder and pulled out his cell phone as he stepped smoothly back into the sidewalk, moving with the flow of the foot traffic. The student checked the Metaverse app again, but was disappointed to find that it still stubbornly displayed the same error message.
Recalibrating for local Collective Unconscous topography.
Still exactly as unhelpful as before. Wonderful. The cheery sound of digital chimes heralded the promised message from Morgan, which contained only a street address. He sighed and pulled up the web browser, which glitched mightily before redirecting him to something called "The Dataverse". A few quick keystrokes on his cell brought up the Omniverse's version of Google, which happily spat out a little map to the address that Morgan had given to Akira. Apparently, it was some kind of bar. The "Top Kek". Memories of meeting with Ohya at the Crossroads Bar came to mind, unbidden. He'd never really liked the reporter, per se, but she'd been straightforward with him, and her articles had been a big help. Hopefully, Morgan would hold off the alcohol until after they'd done business; having to smell the liquor on Ohya's breath had been, by far, the worst part of their meetings.
The young man turned down one of the tier's many alleyways, following directions from the phone, and immediately cursed the makers of this stupid Omni-Maps service. Someone else entered behind him, obviously blocking off the exit as another man, this one brandishing a gun, approached Akira from the front. "Your money or your life."
Oh, for the love of... It would figure that the first thing that Akira would do upon walking into the seedy underbelly of a city would be to form a Confidant bond, only for the second thing to be getting mugged just when he'd let his guard down. "No money on me, I'm afraid. Fresh off the boat, I think is the expression in English?" As nice as his English teacher at Shujin was, it didn't seem that a mastery of colloquialisms was very helpful. "I don't believe you," knife-guy said, as the burly man behind Akira cracked his knuckles.
Just what I need with my life.
Recalibrating for local Collective Unconscous topography.
Still exactly as unhelpful as before. Wonderful. The cheery sound of digital chimes heralded the promised message from Morgan, which contained only a street address. He sighed and pulled up the web browser, which glitched mightily before redirecting him to something called "The Dataverse". A few quick keystrokes on his cell brought up the Omniverse's version of Google, which happily spat out a little map to the address that Morgan had given to Akira. Apparently, it was some kind of bar. The "Top Kek". Memories of meeting with Ohya at the Crossroads Bar came to mind, unbidden. He'd never really liked the reporter, per se, but she'd been straightforward with him, and her articles had been a big help. Hopefully, Morgan would hold off the alcohol until after they'd done business; having to smell the liquor on Ohya's breath had been, by far, the worst part of their meetings.
The young man turned down one of the tier's many alleyways, following directions from the phone, and immediately cursed the makers of this stupid Omni-Maps service. Someone else entered behind him, obviously blocking off the exit as another man, this one brandishing a gun, approached Akira from the front. "Your money or your life."
Oh, for the love of... It would figure that the first thing that Akira would do upon walking into the seedy underbelly of a city would be to form a Confidant bond, only for the second thing to be getting mugged just when he'd let his guard down. "No money on me, I'm afraid. Fresh off the boat, I think is the expression in English?" As nice as his English teacher at Shujin was, it didn't seem that a mastery of colloquialisms was very helpful. "I don't believe you," knife-guy said, as the burly man behind Akira cracked his knuckles.
Just what I need with my life.