<div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=18&amp;t=50338">[OOC]</a></div><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Good evening Midnight City! How we all doin' tonight?"</span><br/><br/>The announcer's voice sounded filtered, almost robotic in nature despite very human inflection. A radio broadcasting the station sat upon the corner of a diner's counter, sparsely inhabited by a few nighttime visitors. A clock on the wall read 9pm, and the Midnight FM radio station's broadcasts begun.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Let's see what we got goin' on today. News reports say that conflicts goin' down in the Bronx blocks have been headed downhill this week. Witnesses are sayin' somethin' about a man on a motorcycle showin' up all over the place. Y'all would do good to stay away from there."</span><br/><br/>New York's night life was significant, and outside the diner, the streets were alive. Cars drove along roads old and new, concrete super-highways spanning over the older constructs that sat at ground level. It was a hazier evening, the clouds that hung in the sky dyed a duller purple from the neon signs that they flowed above. The diner's own sign was a simple old thing made of physical lights, an antique compared to the moving holograms and screens that displayed advertisements and company logos on the sky-piercing towers around it. The interior was likewise rather quaint, host to manually operated utensils and only a single service droid, hard at work cleaning the floor behind the counter.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"But enough about all that mess. We're all here for one thing, and that's the beauty of music. I got somethin' good I'd like to share with y'all. I hope you enjoy the tunes."</span><br/><br/>The announcer went quiet, and music began to play. It was a slower song, layered synths making up the entirety of its notes. The station focused on similar music, and had become quite popular among the city's various demographics.<br/><br/>Music aside, the diner was mostly quiet. A pair in a corner booth sat together, having a simple conversation over some coffee. The larger of the pair, a man, was telling some tall tale supposedly from his past. Motions of the hand not holding onto his cup, a blocky-looking mechanical limb, emphasized his words.<br/><br/>"So the coach says to me, 'Jack, if we don't get the touchdown, the game's done. We lose, all this practice was for nothing.' So you know, at this point I'm pretty hyped up. It's all out." Jack took a sip from his drink, while his companion watched and listened, looking a little unimpressed.<br/><br/>"And then you lost, right?" She asked, taking a drink as well. Jack's expression changed immediately, much to her amusement. She let him keep going for now, setting her cup back down.<br/><br/>"What, me? Lose? Nah. I was the best damn player on that team. Of course we won, I was there." He smiled confidently, to which she rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Anne. What's so unbelievable?"<br/><br/>"Last time you told me a football story, it was about how you tackled through a line of sports droids. You can't even<span style="font-style: italic">throw</span>a football." Anne finished off her drink, setting the empty mug aside.<br/><br/>Jack frowned a little, raising his mechanical arm. "It's this damn thing's fault. No more muscle memory for it." His justification, true or not, was at least believable. Getting a whole limb replaced meant relearning how to use it, and sports use wasn't really a priority. He finished off his coffee, standing up afterward. Anne followed suit, and after they put their mugs on the counter, Jack dropped a dollar and some change in the tips jar.<br/><br/>Outside the diner, their car awaited. It was an older model, made just before the turn of the 22nd century. While it had been heavily modified due to maintenance and special additions, it was recongizable as a 2099 Interceptor, painted a glossy black with silver rims and bumpers. Both of them got in, and Jack turned on the ignition. The car's AI activated with the engine.<br/><br/>"Good evening, Jack. Do you have a location in mind?" On the inner windshield, hologram projectors displayed a map of the city streets, a grid of purple lights forming shimmering outlines of streets and buildings. The car's location was highlighted in blue.<br/><br/>"Nah, just going for a drive." Jack's answer prompted the AI to let the map fade, and after they both buckled in, he pulled back and began driving down the road. He remained on the streets at first, then turned up a ramp and onto the highway.