Not even caring that a sigh of relief escaped her, she leaned heavily against the data hub counter, trying to catch her breath and center her thoughts. The crowd let out a terrific shout and surged towards where the band (achieving her goal of getting to the data hub had made her feel generous when again when it came to musical designations) was finishing up the set. She noticed that the idiotic band member who’s pant leg had caught on fire had properly extinguished himself, or rather a roadie had with a fire extinguisher had done it form him.
(This place is a mad house...) Megumi bit her bottom lip, ignoring the voice in the back of her head that whispered that what she was trying to do made the concert goes seem far saner. (Let’s see what we have here.)
Covetously, she looked up at the thick velocity synth lines. The cables were as thick as a man’s leg and when she put her hand on the hardwood extension for patrons using the hub (which was black…like everything else in the damn club) she could feel the power of the connection, moving through the wood, through the club goers. (I can’t begin to imagine how many credits went into this installation – this is nearly on par with the military!)
She wasn’t sure whether than realization was encouraging or not.
A seat nearby seat opened up, the club goer staggering back into the melee that was the dance floor.
Megumi quickly took the spot, sliding into the chair with what she hoped was a measure of aplomb. “I Beg your pardon?” Catching the glimpse of an employee (name tag and all, just like the bouncer) she motioned to the monitor. “Is there a usage fee for using a hub?”
The employee blinked. Blinked again, his expression torn between surprise and bemusement. “Not for the first five minutes, Honey.”
“Ahh” Megumi said,all too familiar with the way things appeared to be working. “First hit is free and the rest is going to cost me?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Got it.” Boy did she ever.
Not wanting to waste time, she immediately opened a data port and began to type.
“You want to jack in?” Once again, the employee was giving her that look.
“No thank you,” Megumi said, her fingers flying across the pressure pad. The last thing she needed was a online cerebral imprint where anyone could find it. She made a mental note to wipe the pad clean when she was done, just to even up the odds a bit in her favor.
(There) moving through the hub at a terrific rate of speed, she quickly found the bank access portal. (I don’t dare risk logging in directly, but there should be no harm in checking the portal validity.) Unlike the account section, the oft used portal entrance was open domain, filled with information, advertisements and offers for loans of all shape and sizes.
Nothing, it seemed, had changed since she’d accessed her account a little over a year ago.
After a moment’s hesitation, she navigated to the account section but didn’t dare enter her credentials. While this bank was open to all New Meiji citizens, it was used predominately by large corporations. It was the bank her family had used for years, as they had been members of the medical community since who knows when, many of them professors like her father and mother had been. It was also the bank that the Japanese government had set up nearly two hundred years before, one that was used by the military.
Megumi pursed her lips, frustrated at how close and yet how far she was to having a chance at living an independent existence for this first time in her long, adult life.
BING…
BING…
Megumi closed her eyes. Her five minutes was up.
“Time's up! My turn!"
Megumi turned and looked up at a slender woman, initially shocking in her appearance. Like many of the club-goers, she seemed hellbent on embracing the idea of death and suffering, though her choice of clothing was more classical in its line rather than a mess of tatters. The woman was wearing a jaunty beret at an an angle and was clad in a black skirt and blouse with a grey cardigan. Her make up was black and white, as if she had tried to transform herself into a historical black and white photograph of someone famous. Megumi took note that the woman had bullet hole stickers pasted nearly everywhere. As she took note, she also realized that there was a name badge on the woman's sweater and that there was a headset half hidden in pin curls beneath the beret.
(She's an employee here)
"You like?" The woman whirled around, laughing wildly. "Bonnie Parker, from Bonnie and Clyde." Still laughing, she sat down beside Megumi and gave her a frank appraisal. "So, what's with the long face?"
“So much to do, so few credits.” Megumi primly crossed her legs at the ankles and gave the strange woman a bright, brittle smile. “I bet you hear that all the time.”
“Indeed, I do.” The woman, Bonnie, smiled back at her, with a lopsided grin. She leaned over, He leaned down, putting both hands on each side of the chair where Megumi was sitting. “We do offer some of our clientele a credit line, if you are interested in applying?
While Megumi wanted to slide out of her chair, and bolt, she made herself stay put. (I have no other options at this point. None.)
“That would depend, I suppose, on what the application process looks like.”
Rather than shrink back, she leaned forward, till she was nearly nose to nose with Bonnie and her manic, lopsided smile. She could smell alcohol on her breath, but her eyes were clear and piercing. While the gangster clad woman looked young her eyes told an entirely different story. "Let's say I'm interested, just for the sake of conversation."
no subject
Date: 2019-05-11 03:47 am (UTC)Not even caring that a sigh of relief escaped her, she leaned heavily against the data hub counter, trying to catch her breath and center her thoughts. The crowd let out a terrific shout and surged towards where the band (achieving her goal of getting to the data hub had made her feel generous when again when it came to musical designations) was finishing up the set. She noticed that the idiotic band member who’s pant leg had caught on fire had properly extinguished himself, or rather a roadie had with a fire extinguisher had done it form him.
(This place is a mad house...) Megumi bit her bottom lip, ignoring the voice in the back of her head that whispered that what she was trying to do made the concert goes seem far saner. (Let’s see what we have here.)
Covetously, she looked up at the thick velocity synth lines. The cables were as thick as a man’s leg and when she put her hand on the hardwood extension for patrons using the hub (which was black…like everything else in the damn club) she could feel the power of the connection, moving through the wood, through the club goers. (I can’t begin to imagine how many credits went into this installation – this is nearly on par with the military!)
She wasn’t sure whether than realization was encouraging or not.
A seat nearby seat opened up, the club goer staggering back into the melee that was the dance floor.
Megumi quickly took the spot, sliding into the chair with what she hoped was a measure of aplomb. “I Beg your pardon?” Catching the glimpse of an employee (name tag and all, just like the bouncer) she motioned to the monitor. “Is there a usage fee for using a hub?”
The employee blinked. Blinked again, his expression torn between surprise and bemusement. “Not for the first five minutes, Honey.”
“Ahh” Megumi said,all too familiar with the way things appeared to be working. “First hit is free and the rest is going to cost me?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Got it.” Boy did she ever.
Not wanting to waste time, she immediately opened a data port and began to type.
“You want to jack in?” Once again, the employee was giving her that look.
“No thank you,” Megumi said, her fingers flying across the pressure pad. The last thing she needed was a online cerebral imprint where anyone could find it. She made a mental note to wipe the pad clean when she was done, just to even up the odds a bit in her favor.
(There) moving through the hub at a terrific rate of speed, she quickly found the bank access portal. (I don’t dare risk logging in directly, but there should be no harm in checking the portal validity.) Unlike the account section, the oft used portal entrance was open domain, filled with information, advertisements and offers for loans of all shape and sizes.
Nothing, it seemed, had changed since she’d accessed her account a little over a year ago.
After a moment’s hesitation, she navigated to the account section but didn’t dare enter her credentials. While this bank was open to all New Meiji citizens, it was used predominately by large corporations. It was the bank her family had used for years, as they had been members of the medical community since who knows when, many of them professors like her father and mother had been. It was also the bank that the Japanese government had set up nearly two hundred years before, one that was used by the military.
Megumi pursed her lips, frustrated at how close and yet how far she was to having a chance at living an independent existence for this first time in her long, adult life.
BING…
BING…
Megumi closed her eyes. Her five minutes was up.
“Time's up! My turn!"
Megumi turned and looked up at a slender woman, initially shocking in her appearance. Like many of the club-goers, she seemed hellbent on embracing the idea of death and suffering, though her choice of clothing was more classical in its line rather than a mess of tatters. The woman was wearing a jaunty beret at an an angle and was clad in a black skirt and blouse with a grey cardigan. Her make up was black and white, as if she had tried to transform herself into a historical black and white photograph of someone famous. Megumi took note that the woman had bullet hole stickers pasted nearly everywhere. As she took note, she also realized that there was a name badge on the woman's sweater and that there was a headset half hidden in pin curls beneath the beret.
(She's an employee here)
"You like?" The woman whirled around, laughing wildly. "Bonnie Parker, from Bonnie and Clyde." Still laughing, she sat down beside Megumi and gave her a frank appraisal. "So, what's with the long face?"
“So much to do, so few credits.” Megumi primly crossed her legs at the ankles and gave the strange woman a bright, brittle smile. “I bet you hear that all the time.”
“Indeed, I do.” The woman, Bonnie, smiled back at her, with a lopsided grin. She leaned over, He leaned down, putting both hands on each side of the chair where Megumi was sitting. “We do offer some of our clientele a credit line, if you are interested in applying?
While Megumi wanted to slide out of her chair, and bolt, she made herself stay put. (I have no other options at this point. None.)
“That would depend, I suppose, on what the application process looks like.”
Rather than shrink back, she leaned forward, till she was nearly nose to nose with Bonnie and her manic, lopsided smile. She could smell alcohol on her breath, but her eyes were clear and piercing. While the gangster clad woman looked young her eyes told an entirely different story. "Let's say I'm interested, just for the sake of conversation."