Starbucks - Tokyo City - Japan
He didn't care what hour it was or how light it was outside. All he wanted was a cup of coffee, preferably with cream and a nice warmer wrapped around the base. In other places, the primere place to go for a pickmeup was the Dark Bean, Bean Bean Cafe, Barry's Brew, etc. Things in a zombie-infested mall, odd kingdom, and Barry Burton's fantasies did not carry over to this mess of a world, even if the thought of the infamous Barry Sandwich was tempting enough. No, the only thing that would suffice for coffee was Starbucks, and Leon S. Kennedy found himself shaking his head in disgust.
As he sat down at a table all by himself, he struggled to keep his scrutinizing gaze off of the runt of a cashier. Ever since the Horizon incident, people like the agent had walked the common earth. 'People like him', or more specifically, characters from videogames. Sure, some people in this technological age of wonder welcomed the characters with open arms. Old fanboys, enthusiastic collectors, aspiring cosplayers and the like. However, they opened their arms to an unwilling and confused crowd of characters. It didn't take too long for the characters to overstay their welcome, even if they were not at fault for coming to this hell of an earth to begin with.
Somewhere down the line of command, someone got the idea that characters were still the property of the companies that created them. That made sense, and Leon was inclined to agree with them if there wasn't just one problem: he was alive and thinking clearly, and the mere thought of owning a living, breathing sentient creature like himself echoed in the word slavery tenfold. Granted, some companies were polite with their characters and did not feel like they were entitled to them- Super Mario's high chair in Nintendo was one bit of evidence-, but others were not so understanding.
Eventually, the world reached a consensus. Due to so much public outcry, they decided to assimilate the characters into their culture, their society. It seemed like such a good idea at first, but the characters and regular humans never really got along so nicely. Crime rates skyrocketed in some areas while some cities were thrown for a wild, dangerous ride. Because some people still held onto the belief that since they created the characters and controlled them in games they had the right to discriminate, tensions were always high. There were always exceptions, say, a respected character was looked up to instead of frowned upon.
Leon took a sip from his coffee and winced as he burnt his tongue. It was all too much to get used to so quickly. Some characters could not handle their existence, or simply, the truth of their existence. Leon understood his existence, but he never once appreciated it. He was a character in Resident Evil, a cop from the very beginning. CAPCOM toyed with him, as they did with many others. There was no Umbrella Corporation, no Tricell, no looming threat of bioterrorism. He was just a puppet meant to be controlled. Nothing in the games was real.
But it felt real. It was real. How can a company, nay, an entire planet say to everyone that what they went through was just a game? Leon had watched countless innocents die and turn into lumbering, moaning zombies. He had lost some of his best friends to bioterrorism. He had witnessed countless horrors and had soldiered through countless engagements, and for what? Someone's entertainment? It wasn't fair, but nothing in life was fair. Not in the world of Resident Evil, and not in this new, cruel world.
Tugging at his leather jacket, Leon sat and stewed for a moment. Sure, it hadn't been that bad of a new life. Because of his skills as a government secret agent, the common world's Japanese government had taken an interest in him. They wouldn't trust him around anyone really important out of fear that bad things would happen around protagonists, but the least they could do was put him behind a desk at SCAE, Special Character Apprehension and Elimination. One of the world's most talented and skilled agents... and he was put to work filing papers. They did let him keep his guns, so that was a bit of an upside.
A news report blared behind him on a plasma screen TV. Leon only half-paid attention to it, hearing something about strange creatures in the wilderness of Africa, madmen in Europe, small-scale calamity in Asia as a result of some character's demon summoning, and small whispers of kidnappings in North America. Chuckling, Leon shook his head and leaned back in his seat.
'Looks like the world's going to hell. Again.' As an afterthought, Leon added, 'Maybe I should have did what Muller did and signed up to be a mercenary. Then again, I think the girls around here would notice someone missing from their bland lives.'
Note: You don't have to start in Asia, but wherever you'd like. Starting next to someone generally means you want to be in a group with them or ruin their day. As the GM, I'll try to make your lives interesting... I hope.
He didn't care what hour it was or how light it was outside. All he wanted was a cup of coffee, preferably with cream and a nice warmer wrapped around the base. In other places, the primere place to go for a pickmeup was the Dark Bean, Bean Bean Cafe, Barry's Brew, etc. Things in a zombie-infested mall, odd kingdom, and Barry Burton's fantasies did not carry over to this mess of a world, even if the thought of the infamous Barry Sandwich was tempting enough. No, the only thing that would suffice for coffee was Starbucks, and Leon S. Kennedy found himself shaking his head in disgust.
As he sat down at a table all by himself, he struggled to keep his scrutinizing gaze off of the runt of a cashier. Ever since the Horizon incident, people like the agent had walked the common earth. 'People like him', or more specifically, characters from videogames. Sure, some people in this technological age of wonder welcomed the characters with open arms. Old fanboys, enthusiastic collectors, aspiring cosplayers and the like. However, they opened their arms to an unwilling and confused crowd of characters. It didn't take too long for the characters to overstay their welcome, even if they were not at fault for coming to this hell of an earth to begin with.
Somewhere down the line of command, someone got the idea that characters were still the property of the companies that created them. That made sense, and Leon was inclined to agree with them if there wasn't just one problem: he was alive and thinking clearly, and the mere thought of owning a living, breathing sentient creature like himself echoed in the word slavery tenfold. Granted, some companies were polite with their characters and did not feel like they were entitled to them- Super Mario's high chair in Nintendo was one bit of evidence-, but others were not so understanding.
Eventually, the world reached a consensus. Due to so much public outcry, they decided to assimilate the characters into their culture, their society. It seemed like such a good idea at first, but the characters and regular humans never really got along so nicely. Crime rates skyrocketed in some areas while some cities were thrown for a wild, dangerous ride. Because some people still held onto the belief that since they created the characters and controlled them in games they had the right to discriminate, tensions were always high. There were always exceptions, say, a respected character was looked up to instead of frowned upon.
Leon took a sip from his coffee and winced as he burnt his tongue. It was all too much to get used to so quickly. Some characters could not handle their existence, or simply, the truth of their existence. Leon understood his existence, but he never once appreciated it. He was a character in Resident Evil, a cop from the very beginning. CAPCOM toyed with him, as they did with many others. There was no Umbrella Corporation, no Tricell, no looming threat of bioterrorism. He was just a puppet meant to be controlled. Nothing in the games was real.
But it felt real. It was real. How can a company, nay, an entire planet say to everyone that what they went through was just a game? Leon had watched countless innocents die and turn into lumbering, moaning zombies. He had lost some of his best friends to bioterrorism. He had witnessed countless horrors and had soldiered through countless engagements, and for what? Someone's entertainment? It wasn't fair, but nothing in life was fair. Not in the world of Resident Evil, and not in this new, cruel world.
Tugging at his leather jacket, Leon sat and stewed for a moment. Sure, it hadn't been that bad of a new life. Because of his skills as a government secret agent, the common world's Japanese government had taken an interest in him. They wouldn't trust him around anyone really important out of fear that bad things would happen around protagonists, but the least they could do was put him behind a desk at SCAE, Special Character Apprehension and Elimination. One of the world's most talented and skilled agents... and he was put to work filing papers. They did let him keep his guns, so that was a bit of an upside.
A news report blared behind him on a plasma screen TV. Leon only half-paid attention to it, hearing something about strange creatures in the wilderness of Africa, madmen in Europe, small-scale calamity in Asia as a result of some character's demon summoning, and small whispers of kidnappings in North America. Chuckling, Leon shook his head and leaned back in his seat.
'Looks like the world's going to hell. Again.' As an afterthought, Leon added, 'Maybe I should have did what Muller did and signed up to be a mercenary. Then again, I think the girls around here would notice someone missing from their bland lives.'
Note: You don't have to start in Asia, but wherever you'd like. Starting next to someone generally means you want to be in a group with them or ruin their day. As the GM, I'll try to make your lives interesting... I hope.
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