Watching the people get lairy/ Is not very pretty I tell thee
WHO: Everyone
WHERE: Everywhere
WHEN: The evening of March the 4th and through the night
WARNINGS: Violence
SUMMARY: The City has been saturated in haterade hate gas for days, and the emotions of those affected have hit critical mass. Rioting, fighting, looting, and heroism are all about to break out.
FORMAT: Whatever works
Ever have one of those days where you wake up and just hate everything? You probably have.
Now imagine one of those days if you’re feeling supercharged with adrenaline and anger, full of negative energy itching, just boiling under your skin, filling up your head. You can feel it flowing through you, waiting for an opportunity, any opportunity, to be released. Imagine feeling like that all day, after a week of the same. Imagine the feeling of a rubber band stretched tighter than possible, begging for a chance to finally snap.
That’s the kind of day many of the City’s people are having today, after five days of exposure to an advanced, insidious nerve agent. The gas has been clawing at their minds, stripping away their inhibitions and making their ugliest instincts howl. Thousands of them, going through their daily routines while seething on the inside, feeling their breaking point getting closer and closer. By the time the sun begins to set, that point is here and now.
It’s impossible to say what sets it off, things happen so fast. In midtown Manhattan, a middle-aged stockbroker takes a call on the street, and is told his investments are declining in value. He lets out a scream that echoes off the surrounding skyscrapers before hurling his cell phone at the nearest passing car, and then starts looking for more things to throw. In an immigration office, a man cuts into the line and is promptly bludgeoned by a suitcase-wielding mother as her children shriek. In a grocery, a shopkeeper reacts to accusations of overcharging by leaping across the counter and trying to throttle a customer. In LaGuardia Airport, news of a flight delay is met with roars of rage. Minutes later, the schedule screens have been smashed and a gift shop is catching fire.
It’s like throwing a handful of sparks onto kerosene that’s already warm. A chain reaction spreads like wildfire across the City as gas-affected citizens near one outburst explode into violence themselves. People run, people scream, people fight back, people bleed. Windows are smashed, cars burn. As sirens begin to wail and light leaves the City, a handful of dark shapes emerge onto the streets, hungry shapes with sharp fangs and yellow eyes.
For the Major and those like him, the City just became heaven. For everyone else, it has started to descend into hell.
WHERE: Everywhere
WHEN: The evening of March the 4th and through the night
WARNINGS: Violence
SUMMARY: The City has been saturated in haterade hate gas for days, and the emotions of those affected have hit critical mass. Rioting, fighting, looting, and heroism are all about to break out.
FORMAT: Whatever works
Ever have one of those days where you wake up and just hate everything? You probably have.
Now imagine one of those days if you’re feeling supercharged with adrenaline and anger, full of negative energy itching, just boiling under your skin, filling up your head. You can feel it flowing through you, waiting for an opportunity, any opportunity, to be released. Imagine feeling like that all day, after a week of the same. Imagine the feeling of a rubber band stretched tighter than possible, begging for a chance to finally snap.
That’s the kind of day many of the City’s people are having today, after five days of exposure to an advanced, insidious nerve agent. The gas has been clawing at their minds, stripping away their inhibitions and making their ugliest instincts howl. Thousands of them, going through their daily routines while seething on the inside, feeling their breaking point getting closer and closer. By the time the sun begins to set, that point is here and now.
It’s impossible to say what sets it off, things happen so fast. In midtown Manhattan, a middle-aged stockbroker takes a call on the street, and is told his investments are declining in value. He lets out a scream that echoes off the surrounding skyscrapers before hurling his cell phone at the nearest passing car, and then starts looking for more things to throw. In an immigration office, a man cuts into the line and is promptly bludgeoned by a suitcase-wielding mother as her children shriek. In a grocery, a shopkeeper reacts to accusations of overcharging by leaping across the counter and trying to throttle a customer. In LaGuardia Airport, news of a flight delay is met with roars of rage. Minutes later, the schedule screens have been smashed and a gift shop is catching fire.
It’s like throwing a handful of sparks onto kerosene that’s already warm. A chain reaction spreads like wildfire across the City as gas-affected citizens near one outburst explode into violence themselves. People run, people scream, people fight back, people bleed. Windows are smashed, cars burn. As sirens begin to wail and light leaves the City, a handful of dark shapes emerge onto the streets, hungry shapes with sharp fangs and yellow eyes.
For the Major and those like him, the City just became heaven. For everyone else, it has started to descend into hell.