[IC] - All the World's a Game

Starbucks - Tokyo City - Japan

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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.'

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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.

Tokyo Downtown - Tokyo Coty - Japan

Yuuka glanced through the outside world. Everything looked different from Gensokyo, just like Kanako said. Dirt roads were replaced with black stone-like materials. Buildings weren't wooden anymore; they were made with iron and stone, truly an odd mix. Trees and flowers were scarce, and even from the scarcity they were kept in segments of the road, as if they were something that the humans possessed. Nature cannot be possessed by humans.

"You are another one from the video games?" A voice from behind asked. Yuuka turned and found 3 men in suits, weird gadgets in their hand. Behind them was a black, mechanic carriage, sparkling new.

"I don't know what you mean." Yuuka responded, turning to face them. "How can I help you gentlemen?"

"Incidents of video game characters are starting to appear into reality." One of the men in suits, taller and lankier one, spoke out. "We, the Neo Yakuza, are planning on controlling them into a super-army to rule the chaotic world under military rule. We would like you to participate."

"I don't know." Yuuka responded with a smirk in her face. "You guys don't look much like a criminal organization; more like a bunch of hotshot dogs to me."

John's Apartment - Tokyo - Japan


....."You have been called upon to serve, you will be trained... and you will become the best we can make of you. You will be the protectors of Earth and all her colonies...".......

...."You are the culmination of a thousand lifetimes of planning."......

...."They let me pick. Did I ever tell you that? Choose whichever Spartan I wanted. You know me. I did my research. Watched as you became the soldier we needed you to be. Like the others, you were strong and swift and brave. A natural leader. But you had something they didn't. Something no one saw, but me. Can you guess...? Luck. Was I wrong?"....


BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

He snapped awake as the alarm blared in his ear. He turned to shut off the alarm clock. "6:00", he muttered under his breath. As he sat up, he looked to his armor station. It was a semi-portable ring,
with many mechanical arms, ready for the moment that he needed his armor. Bungie, along with 343 Studios, chipped in to get it created, just for him. "Am I really so lucky?" He thought about his previous life. He thought about the many battles he fought, the enemies he's killed, the many people that made the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of humanity, Cortana.
All of it was fiction, a dream, a game. As he shook the thoughts out of his head, he got up and prepared for his morning rituals.

His first morning ritual was an extensive myriad of exercises.
This morning exercise consisted of 300 handstand push-ups, 300 standard push-ups, 300 sit-ups, 117 Burpees, and 500 squats. To the average human, this would be suicide, but for John, it was something he has done ever since his first days in basic training. After that, it's the normal rituals that normal people do; a shower, a shave, breakfast, hygiene, then getting dressed.

He stepped up to the armor assembly platform and waited for the machine to finish running its warm-up phase. Soon after, it sprang to life, unloading each armor plate from its storage bay.
It positioned each plate onto the undersuit he was wearing. Each piece was locked into place by titanium-alloy bolts. After the half-ton suit of armor was in place, he went through the daily routine of calibrating the armor. He looked toward the blinking lights; left, right, up, then down. His shields crackled to life, and the familiar hum echoed in his helmet.
He grabbed his badge and gun, and stuck them to his magnetic holster. The gun was not what he was used to, but it got the job done.
He only used his original weapons for emergencies, since he couldn't replace the ammo for them.
He softly walked over to the door, thinking about the last time he accidentally put his foot through the floor. He had gotten much better at walking on wooden floors, so that was an upside.

He stepped outside, locked his door, and headed to the police station.
He was a cop, a super-cop. Since he was a Spartan, they gave him the harder jobs.
Mainly crimes involving shootouts and armed robberies, but recently, it was dealing with the local gang problem.

They called themselves "Neo-Yakuza", an organized criminal organization. Recently, they had been kidnapping "Characters".
The reason was a desire to boost their ranks with beings of extraordinary abilities and gain power.
To what end? John did not know, but he was soon going to find out.

As he headed toward the station, he noticed a car that looked out of place. This car was black and looked brand new. His attention snapped from the car to voices he could hear in the distance.

..."are starting to appear into reality." "We, the Neo Yakuza, are planning on controlling them into a super-army to rule the chaotic world under military rule. We would like you to participate."
"I don't know." "You guys don't look much like a criminal organization; more like a bunch of hotshot dogs to me."...



"Sounds like work has come to me", he said as he pulled out his gun and headed for the voices.

Metropolitan Prefecture Airspace- Tokyo - Japan
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"Disco Three Flight, AWACS Thunderhead. Climb to fifteen thousand and turn cold zero-three-zero relative for rendezvous with Air Force One. Be advised, Air Force One is on channel Alpha-Three-Poppy."

"Roger that, Thunderhead. Disco Flight is climbing."

The pilot dialled in the radio codes and glanced back at his flight of F-16s as they broke through the cloud cover and peeled off to the right. After a moment handshaking with the secure channel the President's aircraft was broadcasting on, the electronics connected. "Good Morning, Disco Flight, this is Air Force One."
"Disco Three-One here, how you doin'?"

"Fine, fine. It's another fucking PAPABEAR code. Third one this month."

"Ah, this one is different, it's the CIC one this time."

"I'm surprised we haven't shoved a Paveway down his throat by now."

A brief chuckle. "They've tried in Ohio. Shook the damn thing off like it was no thang and threw a Marine back at the plane." The fighter pilot blinked.

"Anyway, AWACS hasn't given me much information on CIC protocol. Where we headed?"

"The Jappos have given us permission to overfly their airspace while the Pentagon tries to do something about him."

"Got it. Let's hope we get him this time."

The pilot of the lumbering 747 tapped his mike. "Ditto that, Disco." He frowned as he glanced at his displays. "Hey, I've got a single civvie aircraft on my long ranger. Doesn't look suspicious, but it shouldn't be here. Everybody should know that there's a no-fly zone around us."

"Roger Air Force One, I'll check it out. Two, on me. Three, Four, stay with the plane."

The pilot stretched back and relaxed as the autopilot started the next bank, eyeing the two fighters as they took up formation beside the aircraft. The peace last all of thirty seconds. "Jesus Christ, what the fuck!"

One wrenched the Falcon into a gut-pummelling hard break as a figure launched itself off the top of the 737 and plastered itself all over his nose. Up close, he could see the white business shirt, tie flapping in the near-mach speed, and the terrifying grin stretching across Dad's face. Days of having the threat classification of "Calamity" drilled into his head by briefers got the better of his common sense. "Punching out!" he screamed, screwed his eyes shut, and yanked on the cord between his legs. Dad blinked in confusion as the canopy blew off before nearly losing his grip as the pilot exploded into the sky in a trail of white smoke and flame. Two circled high above, fighting down the instinct to eject as well. "Holy fuck, he's here!" he roared. "Disco One has ejected, good chute, good chute! Dad is on his fucking plane!"

"Roger, Disco Two. Engage and destroy while we alert Japanese SAR." hissed Thunderhead over the radio. Two complied immediately, locking onto the falling Falcon and arming his starboard AIM-9. Dad had just clambered onto the spine of the jet, shaking his head in relief that he hadn't fallen off, when Two heard the growl and squeezed the trigger.

The missile leaped off the rail in a plume of smoke and engulfed the Falcon in a fireball, shearing the complete rear section of the aircraft to shreds and sending the crippled fighter into a flat spin, trailing fire and smoke, towards the city of Tokyo.

Los Angeles harbor, early morning

The light of sunset had awoken the beast of the harbor, Big daddy slowly advanced towards the pier where he had been dropped off from a ship to work. His head-lights shining yellow he was not in a bad mood. Even though he had still not found a little sister to protect, he stubbornly continued to believe that if he continued to do what he did, he would find one eventually.

Who else would protect the little ones if he did not? A man in front of him rose his arm, indicating him to stop. After a final step he got to a halt, asking what he wanted with a vibrating low tone. ”Hey big one, you need to get some cargo out of the water!” the man shouted at him. He heard the man but tried slowly to understand what he exactly wanted from him. Waving a big from side to side with his body he remained in place, making a low monotone sound. ”Okay, okay. This stuff again.” the man started and now he really did not know what to do. The man walked towards the water and Big Daddy simply followed, looking a big around to see what happened around him.

The man stopped and pointed at a large cubic metal storage. ”This, fell in here. he said, now pointing towards the water. ”Get in the water, and take the one down there, towards there and then up to here!” pointing multiple times to indicate where to go, and finally where he had to end up again. Two short mid tones were the answer the man got. He simply started to walk towards the water and made himself simply fall in forward. The following splash called for several curses from sailor and harbor personnel but he did not hear any on it.

After a while, he had dragged the heavy object out of the water and was not dragging it towards the place where he had entered the water. The scraping of the metal enclosure on the stones made a terrible sound and quickly called the foreman to him. Waving his arms in from of Big daddy he stopped. Wondering what he wanted as he was not done with the last job. ”Its good, leave it here. Do not take it all the way there.” again, two short tones were the answer and he let the crate go. ”Now follow me, some people here want to see you.” some people? Perhaps a little sister wanted to see him? Hopeful, Big daddy followed the foreman, his steps echoing over the piers.