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Manhattan Bomb Shelter Club - Printable Version

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Manhattan Bomb Shelter Club - Anna Sylar - 12-30-2015

Republic of Liberty, New-York-System
Manhattan
now who the hell are you?

Upon arrival on Manhattan the most noticeable are the sky hight buildings spanning the paranoma over the horizon as far the eye can see. Even if one does not check in at one of the central control points within one of the major metropolises, the next city can be seen at the curve of the planets sphere from any point where a person could possibly stand. Eighteen point one billion registred citizens, not accounting for the estimated number of unknown cases were people settle the social weaker areas or the underworld. Manhattan has become the embarking beacon for anything that can be regulated by money, for anything those people given the privilege of a life closer to the upper standards of society may strive for and try to accomplish, for anything a saturated culture still wishes and aims for. The markets are free, citizens freedom is guaranteed if one did accumulate enough credits to keep up to their living standards or more at that. A society ran by influential industrials, financial management and state supported military behind closed doors. A social structure ran by greed, jealousy and street syndicates that form into larger cartels which result in planet-spanning Trusts heavily involved into nearly every line of economic business that is. Within this structure there lies the strenght of this place, the strenght of what all of the Republic really is. Managers wearing the shirt of their favoured band underneath their suits. Caporegimes giving the signal of their preferred syndicates while showing off the most expensive tickers ornamented with the emblems from the industries they are watching over. Manhattan is a place to express your mind if you are able to cover it up under the position you hold within the framework of power. The upper classes and those given the chance to prove themselves in this harsh environment enjoy the luxury that is above the layer of clouds. Living in a world praised on countless advertising panels that illuminate their surrounding in bright shining colours. It is the world the visitor will dive into, where everything a mind can imagine is available, can be bought or commisioned. The buildings tower up to reach the skys limit. A place under strict police supervision creating an almost impenetrable secure environment. Vast malls leave a connectred trail through the whole city, there is stores and retailers placed one to the next for as far as the city borders reach out, each one competing the others in advertisment shown and catching the unadapted look of people that came to spend their money. For those that strive to overshine others in society by featuring the latest trend coming from Manhattan. Heaven for those in the position to live this life, where everything is more expansive, more exclusive, more unique than anywhere else.

Megacity Four
current registred inhabitants: 182 million
don't take it the way it's given.

If the straying individual finds it way down to the lower levels, down to the place regular tourists and visitors never come to see, down to where the lifeblood of libertonian culture comes to present itself as what it is, there is a world to be found like that unseen before. When one gets below the thick layer of clouds that separate the upper classes sphere from the workers class, there is a society to be found that is giving away all of the Republics virtues. A culture run by corruption and greed just as its the libertonian way but where people fight each day for the next. The streets are clean here just as above, private waste disposal earns the majority of its income here, yet the buildings walls are filled with graffitis still. No sun can be seen from down here, industry as well as the machinery that keeps the cities working have its place here, gaseous waste and exhausts clog the light from reaching the surface. It is here where the working class and people that just move to the world above for lower services and work that pays just enough to make a living at all. A world contrasting the spick and span world the tourist will see. Despite quite some similarities, here it is a different life, where people barely can pay for their survival and government enforces law by brute military force and raiding various locations each day to ensure state control at least on a shallow level. People work hard but are left with close to nothing. Yet the overall present libertonian culture of competition, just leaving the most uncompromising individuals with the leftovers from the world above to keep a living standard slightly above those they exploit. And all here are exploited by the upper classes. Only the caporegimes and their soldiers are the single connection this world has to influence and take power within that society living hundreds of metres over their heads. Crime and dissent are nothing unusual and most transgressions are prosecuted by the syndicates and cartels.

Just like any of the metropolises, just like any other place on Manhatten. But there is one difference to this city. Within this environment there was a location built anew from the ground the recent days. Unusual to even those that make their living down here as construction was finished within a few weeks which is usually just how it is done at any other place but here. And just as alien is the design of a location later on available to the public for a price, as it was built underground and even below the metro layers. A vast sarcophagus of contrete and unpolished metal.
Rumour has it that it is kept up by a rather young, described as sporty and eventually athletic woman. Word goes she can be seen here regularly, usually wearing some white hoody along with regular jeans or booty-high skirts, dancing through the night as part of the world underground. And it is said she is a member of the libertonian naval forces. Though this is of no interest to anyone that comes to visit this place. Origin does not matter here, wealth does not matter here, connections and ties do not matter here. A location everyone is equal at as long they can pay for entry. Down the entrance, once one was able to get the credits up to be left in, a vast labyrinth of corridors passing lounges and bars, room suites to live up and gather leads the heated up visitant to the main circular hall from where the different floors are accessed. People enjoying their created selves, people communicating, people banding together. An oppressing surrounding akin to a nighmarish anxiety sets upon the unprepared to overcome any emotions down in a dark, monotonous sound of House, tranquilizing all doubts, all fear, all thoughts.
And here it is people are who they really are. Where people become citizens to this unwelcoming, rough life. Where the universe does not rotate anymore around whatever it is it does. A location so unique to the libertonian understanding of life on Manhatten. A place of hopes. The hopes to forget about what has been, to become one with the night that is to come. The Shelter.

[Image: BShelter-004_zps1iqe6zqv.png]
Bomb Shelter Club