RP [York] - What's On Your Mind

Discussion in 'Side Stories' started by Luca, Jan 5, 2018.

  1. Luca

    Luca Administrator Staff Member

    I wanna know
    What you're thinking
    There are some things you can't hide
    I wanna know
    What you're feeling
    Tell me what's on your mind

    Information Society - What's On Your Mind

    Albion, York, Rightshore
    It'd been a while since the bizarre and unprecedented Weird Thing incident several months back. The destruction caused had racked up a bill worth millions of credits directly, while the flow-on from interrupted services and orders cost the Boreal State millions more in losses. All hands were on deck to repair the foundries, factories, and train lines that had been affected by the attack.

    Ulysses Vernon, governor of York had enlisted the help of neighbouring city-states to chip extra workers in. Poyning heeded the call loudest and clearest - sending many of their technicians, engineers, and heavy machinery. Fully rebuilt after a few months of fervent work in unison, York's industry was rebuilt. Regum, the capital sector made a positive example of the collaboration, stating that reinforcing the ways of federation and mutual cooperation on official news channels and airwaves.

    Back in York, down in a bustling refinery full of trucks and a packed trainyard two workers sat inside a control box for an overhead, three-axis cargo crane. The man on the left was a York native while the woman on the right was a fly-in from Poyning. Together they were loading cargo containers packed with steel sheets and I-beams onto a train, destined for Iwerddon.

    The man had his hand on a joystick, guiding the cargo pod of wares towards the train. "Glad to be back in a job," the Yorker said, smiling ear to ear. A few beeps from his console confirmed that his load was now hanging in the right position.

    The woman from Poyning, a Mindeye begun lowering the crane's contents onto the train, while workers on the ground helped guide the cargo onto the train to be secured. "Don't you have any welfare, or a compensation payout?" She asked. The high volume of technology and engineering exports from Poyning had made it affluent enough to provide many of its citizens with basic incomes and a wide net.

    "Yeah of sorts, my friends and family had my back - but even then," he replied, releasing the crane's grip on the cargo once the line had gone sufficiently slack, and the ground workers confirmed "I needed something to do in the interim, y'know?"

    "Yes. It must be the Greaseheart restlessness I keep hearing about." She replied. Her lodgings were near Manhaven, and she'd seen much of that renowned tension worked out in its many gyms, bars, and public parks - men and women playing full-contact sports together and being drunk and loud. Injuries sustained seemed to be all part of the fun, an accepted casualty. A mixed team would be unheard of in Poyning, much less a sports pitch. The interior of arctic island crags and tors didn't afford the space for such a luxury. "So, what do you do to unwind?" The woman asked.

    "Got a couple of project cars in me garage, I wanna take 'em around Mt. Cranth on the holidays." The crane was now back up at a safe clearance, and heading towards the next cargo pod to be loaded onto the next available train sleeper. "The kids love it and they're getting in on the build too."

    The idea of a child doing automotive engineering amused her. "Do they now?" The crane lowered down onto a container packed wall-to-wall with refined timber, clamping on with a crunch. Signals from down below indicated it was good to go.

    The man nodded as he watched the wood container rise above the factory floor. "Yeah yeah, my daughter's got a knack for painting, so I let her paint racing stripes and flames onto the cars. My son's got the blackfinger genes, so he's right in there - even though he don't talk much."

    "Blackfinger?" The Mindeye was unfamiliar with the turn of phrase as she waited for the cargo to get into position.

    "Like youse. Psionic, I think..." He wasn't really sure of how to handle the awakening of his son's mental abilities, and the school he was enrolled in had little experience with the topic. They were more used to dealing with little magicians, given the Hagblood population. "You probably know all about that, right?"

    "I am intimately familiar," she replied, lowering the cargo down into position.

    "Can I make a request, then?" The man asked. She was listening, glancing over to her coworker while the cargo was being fastened to the train. The man cleared his throat. "I'd like to invite you to my place for dinner, and can you ... talk with your brain to my son? Teach him how to handle it? I can't find a Psionic around in York, they all go elsewhere." All the psionics who came to the Boreal State and went were just visiting for the gemcutting industry or to butt heads with the native mages.

    The Mindeye woman was taken aback by the request. "I... I suppose I can make time tonight." She was more used to men propositioning her for her body or to do mentalism to them. Being invited to a family for dinner was something else entirely. "Where do you live again?"

    "Up north near Daroonga, not far from here." The man replied, lifting the crane back up again for the next batch. "I'll send you the address later." Whistles hooted throughout the facility. It was time for tools down. "Ah, lunch time! Perfect." The greaseheart confirmed that his crane was safely secured, then stood up from his chair.

    The mindeye woman rose from her seat too. "How timely." She said. "Where were you thinking of eating today?"

    "Oh, Branson's Cafeteria, the usual." The man replied.

    "Let's go, then."

    END
     
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