Anachron
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Apr 28, 2006
- Posts
- 483
The ad was posted in four places. One was on the door of the science lab itself. The second was on a bulletin board in a local laundromat. The third was on Craigslist. The fourth was on a telephone booth (well, since there were three copies of it posted there, technically that was seven postings). The phone booth was in the middle of a pock-marked sidewalk in front of a squat, run-down building with four spaces and three tenants: Roberto's Pawn and Loan, Otto's Bail Bonds, and the Camelot Bookstore and XXX Theater, which occupied Suites A, B, and D respectively. Suite C had a faded FOR LEASE sign in front of it.
The businesses were pretty much par for the course at Ferndale, which was the name of the town the Polytechnic University was located in. The town and gown had their heyday back in the Fifties and Sixties, when Uncle Sam had funneled in money to research and design sensor and navigation systems for rockets and high-performance aircraft. Three new shiny research labs had been built, and in 1968, the town had actually boasted an unemployment rate of 1.8%
But then the space program went bust, and the money dried up. By the late Seventies, Ferndale was your classic rags-to-riches-to-rags story. Then, in the Eighties, Los Angeles finally caught up with what had once been a bucolic college town. By the mid-Nineties, Ferndale had been...assimilated. Only a little green sign marked the boundary between Greater Los Angeles and Ferndale.
It seemed that Ferndale was off the map. The Polytechnic University declined from cutting-edge science research into giving out certificates for MCSE and alarm-system and cable installation. The institution that had once had a direct line to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the chairman of NASA now had to reach out through late-night TV ad spots. "Tired of your boring job?"
But appearances could be deceiving. In the midst of urban sprawl and decline, one small area of Ferndale, on the southwest rump of the underutilized University campus, seemed to be doing quite well. On the outside, it looked like the ghetto. On the inside of its 53 acres, it was shiny and new. And Japanese. Inhabited by the unspoken, undercover benefactors of Polytechnic University: Japanese from the secretive White Lotus Group. They had picked up a few years after Uncle Sam left off.
Rumors abounded among Polytechnic students as to what really went on inside those buildings on the southwest side of the campus. Everything from DARPA to the Skull and Bones Society to an offshoot of Area 51. The truth would in fact turn out to be stranger...
But for now, a few folks, motivated by curiosity and financial need, answered the ad. The building they reported to was adjacent to the Special Services Area, as that enclave was called. The room was an ordinary-looking classroom, seating around 30. Though well-maintained, the room had not in fact seated a class since 1977. Astute students would see the world map on the wall still showed North and South Vietnam, as well as Rhodesia and, of course, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. The periodic table was a little yellowed, and short a few more exotic elements. Inside the professor's lectern was a pitcher and glass (both long ago dried out) and a slide rule (still in working order).
Someone had written on the board SUMITACHI TEST SUBJECTS PLEASE REPORT HERE.
(OOC: This is where you all meet up (unless you and another player agree on a shared history for your characters before this point). You may post when ready.
The businesses were pretty much par for the course at Ferndale, which was the name of the town the Polytechnic University was located in. The town and gown had their heyday back in the Fifties and Sixties, when Uncle Sam had funneled in money to research and design sensor and navigation systems for rockets and high-performance aircraft. Three new shiny research labs had been built, and in 1968, the town had actually boasted an unemployment rate of 1.8%
But then the space program went bust, and the money dried up. By the late Seventies, Ferndale was your classic rags-to-riches-to-rags story. Then, in the Eighties, Los Angeles finally caught up with what had once been a bucolic college town. By the mid-Nineties, Ferndale had been...assimilated. Only a little green sign marked the boundary between Greater Los Angeles and Ferndale.
It seemed that Ferndale was off the map. The Polytechnic University declined from cutting-edge science research into giving out certificates for MCSE and alarm-system and cable installation. The institution that had once had a direct line to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the chairman of NASA now had to reach out through late-night TV ad spots. "Tired of your boring job?"
But appearances could be deceiving. In the midst of urban sprawl and decline, one small area of Ferndale, on the southwest rump of the underutilized University campus, seemed to be doing quite well. On the outside, it looked like the ghetto. On the inside of its 53 acres, it was shiny and new. And Japanese. Inhabited by the unspoken, undercover benefactors of Polytechnic University: Japanese from the secretive White Lotus Group. They had picked up a few years after Uncle Sam left off.
Rumors abounded among Polytechnic students as to what really went on inside those buildings on the southwest side of the campus. Everything from DARPA to the Skull and Bones Society to an offshoot of Area 51. The truth would in fact turn out to be stranger...
But for now, a few folks, motivated by curiosity and financial need, answered the ad. The building they reported to was adjacent to the Special Services Area, as that enclave was called. The room was an ordinary-looking classroom, seating around 30. Though well-maintained, the room had not in fact seated a class since 1977. Astute students would see the world map on the wall still showed North and South Vietnam, as well as Rhodesia and, of course, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. The periodic table was a little yellowed, and short a few more exotic elements. Inside the professor's lectern was a pitcher and glass (both long ago dried out) and a slide rule (still in working order).
Someone had written on the board SUMITACHI TEST SUBJECTS PLEASE REPORT HERE.
(OOC: This is where you all meet up (unless you and another player agree on a shared history for your characters before this point). You may post when ready.
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