<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/YTtVcbg.png?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Brook Harrell<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>High-viz one-piece motorcycle suit, jeans and a white T-shirt underneath<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>1 April 2050 at Midnight.<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Outskirts of Oriental District<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Pharon<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Living that Sisyphus life<br/><hr/><br/><strong>"No worries, your old man needed the merc I'm guessing?"</strong><br/><br/>Sat in the dusty archive room in the city hall, Brook was talking with the other archivist, James. James leaned back, balancing on the back two wheels of the chair.<br/><br/>"Yep. Business trip. Strange shit, usually just catches a plane. Guess he wanted to actually use the thing." Brook shrugged and returned to sorting through the small stack of documents she had left for the evening.<strong>"It <em>is</em> his car."</strong>Not that it seemed like it. James had the nicest car in the parking lot most days, though now it was replaced with the old honda she'd usually be driving. Usually she'd feel guilty about it, but if she wasn't driving it, it'd just be collecting white specks from birds at his driveway most of the time. Since he didn't mind it either, it worked out.<br/><br/>"True that. Hey, what's this?" James leaned over and slipped out one of the papers from her stack. Brook leaned over, her own curiosity piqued as well. She quickly fell back to her pile though.<strong>"Oh, that. Rich people crap."</strong>James chuckled a little and opened the folder. "This is up at the walls, isn't it?" He asked, trying to guess based on the area maps. "<strong>Yep, waterline and sewage records. Guess I was a little more literal than planned."</strong><br/><br/>Not like they had much to do anyway, so she put down her stack and scooted over.<strong>"Fairbarn requested it. Think she's in some major feud with the guy living right about... There."</strong>She poked at the map, giving James the lay of the lands.<strong>"Apparently, her husband had a mistress, who's married with the owner of said property, some hedge fund jackass as far as I've understood it. Fairbarn called it due diligence, but she's <em>pissed</em> and is trying to get back at them. Thing is, Mr. Hedgefund wanted to expand his castle-"</strong><br/><br/>"-And Fairbarn is trying to find some way to make his life suck."<br/><br/><strong>"Bingo."</strong><br/><br/>"You were right, this is just rich people shit."<br/><br/><strong>"Told ya."</strong>Brook took back the folder and returned to sorting through them. Once she had her stacks ready, some went to the photocopier, others she handed back over to James so he could return them to their right places in the vault of shelves. It wasn't exactly a thrilling job, she thought about that every time she scanned her keycard and watched as the photocopier swallowed a stack of papers and spat out a dupe.<br/><br/><strong>"Hey James, you ever stop and think about how many trees we're killing just to help make the world a more bureaucratic place?"</strong>Brook asked, raising her voice so James could hear her.<br/><br/>"Nope, not since the last time you asked!" she got in return.<br/><br/><strong>"Me neither James, me neither."</strong>She pressed the copy button once more, in a brutal act of defiance against the established state. Brook was feeling a little anarchic today.<br/>The extra copy fed the paper shredder that day.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>"Nonononono, turn green, turn green, please turn green!"</strong><br/><br/>The motorcycle slowed down, approaching an intersection. It ran fine when she went to work, but it had taken almost a minute just to get it to start when she got ready to head home. It sounded like it was spitting out bolts and nuts, rattling underneath her. It quieted out at the top end though - Or maybe the exhaust leak just muted it. As the bike approached idle, it sputtered and shook violently beneath her, but it was still running. Being out at midnight wasn't exactly the dream either in this part of town. At least she got the overtime pay she desperately needed.<br/><br/>The brakes whined as she came to a full stop. And then the bike said goodnight and shut off. Stuck approaching midnight at an empty intersection, staring at a light turning green just as she'd stopped. The starter whirred as she tried to get the bike running again, but to no avail. It would sputter a bit, giving her some false hope, but it quickly went quiet again. Right in front of hell hill as well. The massive uphill leading to the area she lived in on the outskirts of the Oriental District was dreaded by bikers, pedal bikers anyway. Even joggers gave up and slowed down to a walk approaching the giant middle finger to human endurance.<br/><br/><strong>"I should've just ran the light..."</strong>Brook muttered as she got off the bike. She had a lot of pushing ahead of herself - No way she was leaving the bike out just like that, not this close to the slums. It would be begging for it to be stolen. Either she was pushing it up hell hill, or she'd be living on rice and beans to pay down the towing fees.<strong>"Here goes nothing."</strong><br/><br/>It was alright at first. She managed to get a fair start, but hell hill was deceptively steep. Even the early parts were tough - The bike was heavy, and while she wasn't unfit, she wasn't exactly strong either. The bike wasn't some light and nimble crotch-rocket, it was a proper cruiser - And had proper cruiser weight. It didn't take long before her clothes were soaked. Pulling down the one-piece driving suit would have been a good idea, but frankly she didn't want to chance on stopping, in the event the bike decided to roll backwards. Her boots were slipping beneath her, threatening to null out any hard-earned progress she'd made. A great finale to an otherwise alright day.