(Interested in the role? PM me)
Looking around the streets they were just as they said they were. Dark, broken, such as the world seemed but outside of this haven, if it could be called such a thing, he knew the control and order with which things operated. It was a dangerous time to be anywhere, but so much more here. After tomorrow this town would rapidly begin turning into a ghost town and no one knew it but him.
Before he left his home Stephen was given clothes of the time that fit him. To him they looked like rags, poor. But it went with the territory. Solving the world’s problems always seemed to create new ones; it was a never ending cycle. It was worth it he told himself as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. There was a place he had to go and he knew it only by memory and the old maps they’d given him. There were people he had to meet and they were going to be even harder to find. The pictures they’d shown him were old and few and without names. They were one of the few things the government couldn’t erase. Contraband was like that.
Walking with purpose he looked at the other people on the street as he passed. It looked depressed and yet he knew about the club. It was like a secret no one told the government but little did they know the crackdown would begin tomorrow and he had to find those people there. Those who’d be influential. Those who had the power. He had enough CREDs for convincing and if that didn’t work, a knife. From where he’d come they couldn’t guarantee a gun or something like it wouldn’t be detected. But he preferred knives. They were easy to conceal and they were quiet if used right. If he needed something bad enough he’d find it, or take it. It was all the same to him.
From the map cast in his head, Stephen traced his steps until he approached the door. Stephen whispered something in the man’s ear and let him pass with as much paranoia as when he allowed Margot inside. That’s when he really started hearing it, feeling the reverberations against the ground as he went deeper down the corridor until he reached the club. They told him it was a hedonist’s paradise and he had no doubt about that.
The lights were the first thing to attract his eyes, and then all the people. Grinding, rubbing against one another as they drank whatever kind of drinks they were serving behind the bar or whatever pill they hid in their mouths. Stephen had been told about the different types of drink and pill but it wasn’t something he bothered to remember. It wasn’t important, he reminded himself. He was only here for one thing and that didn’t involve getting involved. In order to change history, he couldn’t be known as an active participant of it. He was to only talk to the people he was sent there to meet. He didn’t want to detract from those thoughts, letting temptation take over.
Stephen wouldn’t tempt himself with a drink and so he had to brave the people who were dancing. Moving from one end to the other he felt bodies against his in the cramped area. Any other time in history they could’ve called it sleazy but here they called it freedom. He couldn’t help but smirk a little as he let the thought linger. Then drawn out of his haze when a woman, without reason, turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down far enough to lay a long, tongue tangling kiss on his lips. Maybe it was the pulsating lights, the music, the atmosphere or the girl’s tongue in his mouth but he felt his hand graze against her breast. She made a sound, or did she say something? Either way she didn’t seem concerned or upset as she broke their bind, licking her lips and turning away to continue dancing as though nothing had happened.
But he couldn’t think about that. There was a job to do and he had to get it done no matter the... obstacles in his way. After what felt like an hour he made it to the other side, plastering his back to the wall, watching the dancers. He looked among the other wallflowers hoping to see someone he recognized from the pictures. Stephen couldn’t ask for names. He had to rely on his instincts.
Retired from SRP