Post by lloyd on Oct 12, 2009 13:01:57 GMT -5
Kayeri chewed contemplatively on a Gyro as he walked through the streets of New York. The city, taken from the Dutch in the 1600's, was the Eastern Financial Capital of the Britannia. And yet, New York city had more in common with the settlements of the numbered areas than with the rest of Britannia. Kayeri's Gyro was already proof. New York City was a city that was easily separable into the affluent suburbs and neighborhoods of the rich full Britannians and the tenement apartments of the less-affluent, or the immigrants. New York city had long been a target of immigrants from the EU looking for success, before relations between the EU and Britannia had soured. Indeed, over half of New York City's Population was either a European immigrant or a descendant of one. And that was what made it so volatile. Several times, riots had forced the Britannian authorities to deploy Knight Police and at times deadly force to quell the populace, especially the pugnacious Irish and Italians. Of course, the mass media, always waiting for sensational stories, printed these with extravagant and flagrant improvisation. But people bought it. The East Coast of Britannia was the founding and dying place of the short-lived American insurrection, and the coals still smouldered, covered only by Britannia's previous victories. With that, to, gone, things always looked bad.
Today, Kayeri wasn't here to fan the flames--at least not at the moment. Today he was here to check on the current state of the Seneca knightmare frame, under contract to Britannia. Along with several other companies, the ICCA was fighting to obtain the contract for the next generation Britannian knightmare frame, codenamed the Gladstone. It was intended to create an inexpensive alternative to the powerful but costly Gareth. The prototype would be finished today. Personally, Kayeri disliked knightmares, but what had to be done had to be done. Sitting on one of the statues outside the New York Provincial Legislature, he finished his gyro as a knight Police-issue Glasgow moved down the crowded street. Kayeri turned away--and was blown off his feet by a defeaning blast of heat and sound.
Kayeri turned around, his ears ringing--the Glasgow was now burning, one leg several meters away as it slowly fell over. Crowds of spectators came to watch--but not to help. Instead, what came were jeers in the typical Irish Brogue that had taken over even the non-irish in the slums. "bombay Sh*tehawk, them limeys got creamed out of it. Lost yer Giblets, eh?" Kayeri froze. this had the makings of a Riot, and if he didn't get the hell out soon, they would figure him out as someone fairly rich--and god knows you don't want to be around of angry Irish men in a suit.
Today, Kayeri wasn't here to fan the flames--at least not at the moment. Today he was here to check on the current state of the Seneca knightmare frame, under contract to Britannia. Along with several other companies, the ICCA was fighting to obtain the contract for the next generation Britannian knightmare frame, codenamed the Gladstone. It was intended to create an inexpensive alternative to the powerful but costly Gareth. The prototype would be finished today. Personally, Kayeri disliked knightmares, but what had to be done had to be done. Sitting on one of the statues outside the New York Provincial Legislature, he finished his gyro as a knight Police-issue Glasgow moved down the crowded street. Kayeri turned away--and was blown off his feet by a defeaning blast of heat and sound.
Kayeri turned around, his ears ringing--the Glasgow was now burning, one leg several meters away as it slowly fell over. Crowds of spectators came to watch--but not to help. Instead, what came were jeers in the typical Irish Brogue that had taken over even the non-irish in the slums. "bombay Sh*tehawk, them limeys got creamed out of it. Lost yer Giblets, eh?" Kayeri froze. this had the makings of a Riot, and if he didn't get the hell out soon, they would figure him out as someone fairly rich--and god knows you don't want to be around of angry Irish men in a suit.
