2 replies to this topic

[Synik]

The City

The sprawling, mountainous beast of glass and metal glints against the pure white snow. Its massive form stretching over the old hills which form its backbone, like a distended kidney or moon shape. One that straddles the old moor and stretches across the hills of the east. Deep within the city's guts lies the old church. The Church of St. Mary. The place where the survivors rested and planned. The place where the City takes it's name: Magdalen.

To the north, a dark forest of heat dump 'trees' steam in the cold night. Nano-sized branches releasing the byproducts of the city's plamsa torus. No stars shine above. The endless snow clouds, protecting man and beast from the too thin ozone layer. Electronic eyes - forever watchful - keep guard. No outlander or war-machine walks here. The Dead Forest they call it.

Westward, the ruins of an old city lie partly flooded. The scarred tarmac roads, the broken buildings covered in snow or awash with icy slush. The valley is now a place of well picked debris left from the war. Only the crazy and the desperate live there now. Vying for space beneath the snow and the rocks against the broken war-machines, the old hunter-killers.

Lift-craft pass over the barren landscape ferrying the fortunate from city-state to city-state. Occasionally, the craft breaks the cloud to see the gleaming spires of the city. Spires that reach towards the sky as if they dream of escape.

Edited by Synik, 02 July 2008 - 08:42 PM.

[Synik]

Places of Interest

St Mary's

This is the well-to-do area of the city. Located almost at its peak, St Mary's lofty position gives it a view of the underlying areas and, on a good day, a view over the clouds. The climate is warm, summery sometimes and you see this place in on 'trid' or stimchips. It's a place where the truly loaded live, not a place for you and I. The Administrators live and work here. Those who saved you from the war and who help guide people and businesses who make Magdalene their home.

Heartland

Nestled beneath the corporate towers and a pod ride away from the recreational areas of Widmer Park and Sterling (the shopping area), the artificial sun-strips give Heartland a temperate environment providing spaceous parks and a cafe society amongst the med-rise housing towers. Pod-rails pepper the buildings giving great views for the corporate workers. School children play in the parks and Security are never far away. Further away from the centre are the not-so-plush areas of Enser, Whitehouse and Ibleigh. The parks become fewer, industrial cubes squeeze their way in and housing grows denser.

Sector 17, Necroville

Originally designed to be a place for the Rescued Buildings Project, Sector 17 flirted with being corporate property, a theme park and then a hab-zone. Sadly, its location to the South Window - a massive glacier-like wall of glass - and poor heating facilities lead to the collapse of all those schemes. The zone was purchased by various parties: various 'Nec' parties. The now famous Dr Aldrich and Miss Crew. Clubs, shops, euth-tanks and housing began to arrive as the uber-goths drifted to a place they could call home. Ever cold and often caught in some timeless twlight, Necroville accepts all.

The Stack

Close to the lift-craft terminal, The Stack is a jungle of once abandoned cargo containers. Originally a squat for migrant workers, the slum has grown into a recognised community. It's a rag-tag place of different cultures and if you need something - anything - The Stack may be the place to get it. Security Services don't venture down here much. Crates move too much and a day old map is said to be useless. Stack is both a hot sweaty mess at it's core - almost on top of the main plasma generators.

Ruben

A city has needs and everything - even everyone - has a price. Not far from the industrial zones of Bewker, Fillsmore and Ketch, Ruben - or more accurately - Ruben Street, snakes through the gap between the factor cubes. Warm from the power spill and dark from the shadow, Ruben offers flesh, drink and a good time. Clubs come and go along Ruben as fashions change. Flesh Pit and Pole Position remain popular places for stim-dancer wannabes and the oggling crowds. Dolly Mixture caters for alternative lifestyles (although in this day and age: what is alternative?). Love Machine remains the place for the trix about town: camper than Christmas and twice the fun.

Paris Plaza

Away from the temptation of Ruben and the shocking liberalism* of Necroville, Paris Plaza caters to those who want a quiet life of no alarms and no surprises. Stim channels are pre-watershed and nothing bad happens in Paris Plaza. Indeed, many say that nothing happens. Ever. It's conservative with a big C and nothing is going to change that. Security Services patrol the streets and by entering the zone, you automatically sign up to the Paris Force's Stop & Search policy.

( * irony )

Washport Gate

Magdalene has two ports: one on the south side that takes in ice skimmers, panzers and lift-craft; the second links to the frozen man-made river of Washport. It can be a bit rough if you don't watch your step and it's certainly no place to take the kids. Indeed, wrap up warm as the river seems to suck the heat out of just about everything within a klick of it. Washport's damp, grey and cold. At its heart lies Rockpool, a giant melt-water basin heated by the plasma heat dumps and kept ice free by laser. Submarine deliveries surface here from the ice locked Washport River.

Away from the industrial heartland and ground crawler lanes, spin off industries provide mechanical, cybernetic and software services to the craft that arrive here. In the gaps between factory 'fabs' (prefabricated buildings) are the bars and drug parlours. Mercenaries and dockers frequent these places, flush with cash from protecting subs and ice runners. The Peterborough Marshes is a known wrecking area; the shifting salt marshes continue to be a pain despite frequent dredging. Then there's the WASPs: the Wash Area Sea Pirates. A fancy name for a ragtag bunch of clans gone back. They camp in the ruined villages and towns that made up old Lincolnshire, spilling forth to strip unwary ships.

Centrum

Centrum is the city's main sub-train station and is fed by an underground tunnel that runs under and through Ketch and Bewker. The left hand side of the station deals with freight and isn't far from Washport Gate. Cargo is often unhooked and taken by robo-lifter for processing away from the station. The right hand side is Centrum Station and there are various gates and plazas where people can wait to catch a train. There's a couple of hotels and business services nearby. Jack's Coffin House - a vertical wall of tiny sleep 'cubes' remains ever popular with business folk and the few tourists who visit.

Edited by Synik, 03 July 2008 - 12:50 PM.

[Synik]

Transport

The densely packed multi-level layout of Magdalene does not lend itself to the old model of roads and highways. With oil gone and long distance personal travel just not safe, public transport is the order of the day for most people. Only the very brave - or foolish - leave the safety of the city to fly lift-craft, land crawlers or ice skimmers to visit the snowy wastes.

With total network coverage and computing power only dreamt of, the modern corporate rarely needs to visit sites. Sim-stim, or simulated stimulation (aka feelies), negate Joe Public's want for getaway travel. Now you can leave home and stay behind at the same time.

City-rail

The maglev monorail links many districts in a crazy interlocking pattern of circles. Some lie tipped allowing the lines to service districts at different levels. The Black Line famously links Ebery and Necroville despite Ebery's height over its lower gothic cousin.

Tickets are inexpensive for the crowded public carriages. Corporate class tickets are only available if you have a special pass and some trains only pick up or drop off at specific stations in the corporate zones. If you don't have a pass, you simply can't get on the ride.

Pods

In very well to do circles, you don't have to walk to a train station - or even take a train at all. The computerised personal transport device - or 'pod' as many call it - will take you to your destination. If you know the right people or move in the right companies, you may even have your own pod. For the rest of the population, that's just a dream.

Lift-craft

The seemingly endless bad weather, last century's oil crunch and the war have put the airliner into the history books and nostalgia stim-chips. The replacement came, like many other technologies, as a spin off from the last war. The lift-engine - an anti-gravity motor - was quickly bolted on to stripped down helicopters and old gunships. Cargo now comes in by sub rather than via air; shipments from the mid-Atlantic factory ships. Holiday travel isn't back yet - no with the boom in stim recordings - and there's still space for freelance pilots alongside the growing corporate fleets.

Sub-trains

Magdalene is linked to New Paris and Merchester by the sub-train network. As the giant cities grew under their armoured glass shells, so the ultra-fast train rails benefited too. Sometimes underground, sometimes sheathed in virtually sterile tubes, the gauss powered trains race between destinations. Security is tight and tickets are expensive. Still, if the company is picking up the tab, who cares?

Space Travel

The Earth is not in a good shape and indeed many a conspiracy theorist has pointed out the similarity between people huddled in giant cities and the space cities governments and corporations are reportedly working on. Despite a growing presence in LEO - or Low Earth Orbit - space travel remains outside the reach of the common man, but matters are slowly changing.

Edited by Synik, 03 July 2008 - 12:49 PM.