Dissidence

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Metru Nui. A place where the sun is silent.

I suppose it began when the democratic elections we once prided ourselves on ceased. Turaga Dume declared himself king and abolished the Senate, which didn't really bother us at the time. It was stupid of us, we later knew, but Turaga Dume was like a father to us, and taking that into consideration, we did nothing. Slowly, though, the beings who had once populated the streets with such diversity, such life, had been brainwashed. They were idealists, arresting someone for so much as making a dirty joke in a public area. I know a guy who personally stood outside the police station and tied an RC helicopter to his-well, you get the picture. He's serving twenty years in prison now...or was, before they found him hung in his own cell due to "suicide." You get a lot of that in Metru Nui.

My name is Jolek Highwind, and I was a martial artist/all-around funny guy who wandered around Metru Nui looking to do whatever I could in the name of SCIENCE. After the crackdowns and the growing tyranny, though, I started to lay low. One night, after I heard about a friend's death in a holding cell, I went to a bar to drink away my problems.

This is the part where I meet Castor Troy.

Castor was skinny, tall, brash, charismatic, handsome, funny, and too damn fearless for his own good. He wasn't held down by the limits of normal life; rather, he saw beyond all that and could almost predict the future based on a single choice, weighing the consequences in a quarter of a second. His philosophy in life was that anyone could beat the crap out of him at any time, but the stupid bastard on the giving end of the punches couldn't kill him, because of the two of them, Castor Troy was the one with nothing to lose.

Anyway, Castor and I got to talking about the state of things, growing a friendship of sorts and we were about to leave before Castor punched me in the face in an alcholic brain fart of sorts. Now, being the upstanding martial artist that I am, I couldn't have that. So Castor and I ended up getting into a fight, one that left us both bloodied and moaning in the parking lot. A couple of others came and started their own fights. Most sensible people would consider this the part where you stumble home and try to steel yourself for the hangover. But Castor Troy wasn't sensible, especially when said hangover hit.

He bought the bar with all of his life savings and invited all his friends, many of whom had actually survived prison (no small accomplishment these days) and we started up a fight club in the basement of that dingy Ta-Koro bar. Several others began doing the same thing and reporting to Castor, and in two weeks, we had raised a small army, which he later confided to me was part of a mega birthday present to himself.

He's announcing the purpose of his "present" tonight at the original fight club. He's invited me, his best friend, to help him co-lead whatever it is. Thing is, I dunno if I really want to...

-Jolek Highwind

Welcome to Dissidence, an atypical resistance game. You see, you won't be fighting with bullets or knives...at least, not mainly.

You'll be fighting with humor.

That's right. Your job is to stretch the ruling party of Metru Nui thin with the stupidest crap imaginable, bribe or take out as many cops as you can and show the people that they don't have to be afraid. The goal isn't to win, though that would certainly be great; no, the main goal is not to lose.

You'll be fighting cops, Vahki, and in some situations, yourself. But if you can pull it off, you'll be a legend.

Of course, all legends have to die sometime, right?

Fight Clubs

There are several fight clubs in each Metru. The leader of each fight club is a member of a committee that is based in the center of each Metru, each representing the opposite of that Metru's core value.

Ta-Assault
Ga-Chaos
Le-Isolation
Po-Defilation
Onu-Misinformation
Ko-Panic

Any member of a fight club can fufill any kind of assignment related to these six committes, but they have to be approved by a majority of each commmittee. After all, Metru Nui is a democracy, right? The only people who can fufill an assignment without approval from the committees are Castor and Jolek. Either of the two can veto any decision made by a committee.

Locations

Ta-Metru-District of Fire and industrial leader of Metru Nui. The first fight club was founded here by Castor and Jolek, and it was one of the quickest to spread. Mask makers and blue collar workers slam each other into oblivion in bars all around the city.

Ga-Metru-Peaceful district of Water in Metru Nui. This was one of the last districts to have a fight club founded within its borders, but it's caught on like wildfire. Students and sometimes teachers make up the fight clubs here.

Ko-Metru-Philosophy practically wraps itself around Ko-Metru, leading to pent up scholars duking it out in the fight clubs here. This was the last district to have a fight club founded.

Po-Metru-Creative district of Stone and a fight club safe haven. The fight clubs here are filled with carvers and stone masons who want to get out their unused creative energy.

Onu-Metru-Knowledgable district of Earth. Not as many fight clubs here, but the ones that exist are extremely hard to find. Archivists who want to learn about something beyond museum exhibits and actually experience human contact brawl around the entire basement.

Le-Metru-Bustling district of Air. Fight clubs spread pretty quickly in Le-Metru, and are filled with test pilots who want to control their own lives and don't feel like becoming some wall stain in the Moto Hub.

Factions

The Trojans-Castor Troy's group of fighters and criminals. They're not nearly as open with their identities, but they strike from the shadows, mixing humor, aggression, and the will for freedom.

The Mob-The organized crime on Metru Nui. They hate the government just as much as the Trojans do, but they view the fighters as little more than an unorganized group of street thugs.

The Protectorate of Metru Nui-The government, led by Turaga Dume. They're uptight, vicious, and willing to arrest you for any little thing you do. Pretty much everyone will hate you if you play as one.

-Spawn

IC: Jasik

Jasik sighed, tossing his cigarette to the trash at a look from a by-the-book sergeant who was guarding the doors.

"Did you hear who ordered us here?"

OOC: The answer to that would be no. Just for the record.

-Teezy

OOC: I figured.

IC (Ta-Metru Police Department Headquarters):

Xhana's eyes followed the cigarette on its path into the trash can. Silence lingered.

Finally, she turned back, her Kanohi glittering in the morning sunlight. Her eyes gleamed, too, yet not in such a fashion as the sky. Her earlier ease had transformed into a similar ease of movement coupled with an expression of foreboding.

"No," she replied, opening the door for her superior. "I'm not sure I want to."

IC: Jasik

The man at the front cleared his voice.

"Well, since we'll be getting to know each other very well shortly, I figure I might as well begin to intro-"

"Your name is Nalashev," piped up Jasik. "You're a Dreamwalker, one of Turaga Dume's elites, drafted from all six Metru to help restore order and run the police department, blah blah blah, and since you're here, it's obvious that somewhere, somehow, someone has royally ticked Turaga Dume off. That all?"

Beside him, he could hear the ghost of a laugh escape from Tillian's mouth. The man at the front cleared his throat again in slight nervousness.

"Ah...yes, Lt. A'ranthee, very good. I've heard about your little games."

"Not as much as I've heard about his," Tillian muttered to his second-in-command. He turned to the Dreamwalker, who was starting to speak again.

"As you are no doubt unaware, yesterday, two government officials tried to implant an experimental virus into the Metru Nui Vahki hard-drives. As you are no doubt aware, each police precinct in Metru Nui has a different code for their respective Vahkhi: even in the same Metru, no two precincts have the exact same code, which, it seems, was news to the traitors. It appears, however, that they got lucky: the Southeastern Precinct Nuurahk were affected by the virus, and their law enforcement criteria were affected. They arrested and attacked innocent bystanders for about ten minutes before self-destructing. This left the Precinct undefended for several hours. Needless to say, the Turaga was...unamused and had the traitors...disposed of."

"No surprise there," muttered Jasik.

"However, to the knowledge of the few people who had clearance to know about this event, the Vahki all self-destructed and the incident was over. But that wasn't true."

He pulled up a security camera.

"This is Subject #00A214 in a Ta-Metru Protectorate Safehouse. Vault 1, Floor 2. This footage was shot last night, and the Vahki was safe and sound."

The footage stayed the same for about thirty seconds before it began to fizzle and crack with static. Finally, it faded away. The Dreamwalker pressed the fastforward button on the DVD player, skipping forward to six hours later. No Vahki.

"Needless to say, this has been given top priority by Turaga Dume. If these Vahki are taken out long enough for whoever is behind this to attack a precinct and take it over, all of Metru Nui could be at stake. Everyone in this room is going to work together to try and retrieve this Vahki and take in the people responsible. Captains, mobilize your squads and meet them all in rooms preassigned. We'll meet here weekly to discuss what we've learned."

Tillian moved forward and picked up a folder, scanning it with his eyes.

"Alright, Jasik, Xhana," he said, looking up at them and speaking in that silkily soft voice of his, "we meet a couple doors down from here. Come with me."

Jasik and Xhana stood and followed Saporta until they were in the room. Tillian looked at Xhana, clearly expecting her to speak first.

"Well? No evidence of this on your patrol last night?" he asked.

OOC: For the record, Xhana didn't stop her patrol until after her shift was up, so there should be no suspicion on that end.

IC (Ta-Metru Department Headquarters, meeting room):

Xhana's finger brushed her chin. "So we have no leads? No way of finding the Vahki save by going door-to-door and ticking off a couple thousand Matoran while we're at it? We aren't exactly the most popular beings here, y'know."

OOC: Ahh, Xhana and your cluelessness.