Bright lights and dark skies swirl together as buildings rise taller than any in the porter cities as he pulls at her, dragging him deeper into his own mind. They grow and grow- tightly knit monuments of steel and glass, lit in warm oranges and eerie greens, or black shapes outlined in neon stripes of any imaginable color. Giant screens play advertisements. Holographic displays show what the screens won't. Search lights stream upwards, tilting wildly in random directions from buildings.
Businesses stack on top of each other, with endless narrow labels marking the precious allotment of window space for each different business stretching from basement level to too high to make out clearly. Each is advertised with signs in bright, bold print or more often neon.
This is a world with no space to build but upwards. This is Neo Tokyo.
Stripes of windows blur together in the distance, creating strips of light. Streaks of taillights blur together, creating lines of lights on the roads. Walkways and catwalks provide means to move from building to building; one could live years without ever setting foot on the artificial ground. Narrow, strangely decorated alleyways are everywhere, coated with debris and trash. Discarded newspapers are the most savory common find.
Smog tinted by the ever-present neon lighting obscures the farther buildings. There is no sign of landscape, or a sense of outside the city. The buildings pass by slowly, their height giving the illusion of them leaning in on all sides. Then Tetsuo looks down, and a memory so generic that it might as well be instinct falls into place. Well-worn tracks with nothing specific to him that stands out.
He's not riding to fight this time, though the feeling of something else possibly being out there gives an almost prey instinct to the scene; the theoretical speedometer is at top speed and won't slow for anything. He races closer and closer to a wall, letting the road grow narrower to lead him straight to a tunnel. This just a commute through the narrow tunnel checkpoint - a sign in Japanese indicates it's the barrier leading to District 17. Guards watch from a walkway on top, but don't stop him. There's a glimpse of people inside a shop nestled right inside the wall, one of many. Not even the walls are completely safe from the need to expand the city.
Then they're in the tunnel, and there's nothing but strips of light and darkness until they're back out onto proper highway. And the difference is stark - it's daylight now, and outside, farther away from the inner city's wall of imposing buildings, the sky opens as a gray and green haze, painted with the same smog that fades the buildings behind them into a strange glow. The run down buildings here are held together with stripes of copper or wood nailed in random patterns, often resulting in patchwork tatters of material loosely resembling architecture.
Tetsuo cuts back in with words after a while, running quickly out of things that are 'safe' to remember.
You know...
There's a flash of bemusement as he mulls the stark novelty of actually showing someone the city over in his mind, letting the virtual tour pause for a bit.
You oughta feel real grateful to get to see it. It's not like they'd ever allow someone like you to get in.]
no subject
Bright lights and dark skies swirl together as buildings rise taller than any in the porter cities as he pulls at her, dragging him deeper into his own mind. They grow and grow- tightly knit monuments of steel and glass, lit in warm oranges and eerie greens, or black shapes outlined in neon stripes of any imaginable color. Giant screens play advertisements. Holographic displays show what the screens won't. Search lights stream upwards, tilting wildly in random directions from buildings.
Businesses stack on top of each other, with endless narrow labels marking the precious allotment of window space for each different business stretching from basement level to too high to make out clearly. Each is advertised with signs in bright, bold print or more often neon.
This is a world with no space to build but upwards. This is Neo Tokyo.
Stripes of windows blur together in the distance, creating strips of light. Streaks of taillights blur together, creating lines of lights on the roads. Walkways and catwalks provide means to move from building to building; one could live years without ever setting foot on the artificial ground. Narrow, strangely decorated alleyways are everywhere, coated with debris and trash. Discarded newspapers are the most savory common find.
Smog tinted by the ever-present neon lighting obscures the farther buildings. There is no sign of landscape, or a sense of outside the city. The buildings pass by slowly, their height giving the illusion of them leaning in on all sides. Then Tetsuo looks down, and a memory so generic that it might as well be instinct falls into place. Well-worn tracks with nothing specific to him that stands out.
He's not riding to fight this time, though the feeling of something else possibly being out there gives an almost prey instinct to the scene; the theoretical speedometer is at top speed and won't slow for anything. He races closer and closer to a wall, letting the road grow narrower to lead him straight to a tunnel. This just a commute through the narrow tunnel checkpoint - a sign in Japanese indicates it's the barrier leading to District 17. Guards watch from a walkway on top, but don't stop him. There's a glimpse of people inside a shop nestled right inside the wall, one of many. Not even the walls are completely safe from the need to expand the city.
Then they're in the tunnel, and there's nothing but strips of light and darkness until they're back out onto proper highway. And the difference is stark - it's daylight now, and outside, farther away from the inner city's wall of imposing buildings, the sky opens as a gray and green haze, painted with the same smog that fades the buildings behind them into a strange glow. The run down buildings here are held together with stripes of copper or wood nailed in random patterns, often resulting in patchwork tatters of material loosely resembling architecture.
Tetsuo cuts back in with words after a while, running quickly out of things that are 'safe' to remember.
You know...
There's a flash of bemusement as he mulls the stark novelty of actually showing someone the city over in his mind, letting the virtual tour pause for a bit.
You oughta feel real grateful to get to see it. It's not like they'd ever allow someone like you to get in.]