The year is 2354. Everyone has a different relationship with this city and her overbearing corpulence. The ones that live out in the open every day, the painters of the scenery with their fiercely individual styles and customs, make the streets into a moving mosaic art piece put together by a schizophrenic. Over the dense cloud of chatter from the city's inhabitants, you can hear the dull hum of technology, its presence in almost everything living and otherwise.
The crowd parts going down Roosevelt Avenue, stepping aside as a trio of hulking males makes its way through. A bit ahead of them is a thin framed girl with shocking white har, moving through the hesitant crowd as a ball through a pachinko machine. She risks a glance over her shoulder to see three rather large thugs still in hot pursuit, the clinking of the chains hanging from them making their presence seem all the more closer. Her boots pound the pavement faster, barely widening the gap between her and the whooping masses of muscle and spikes following. Her crackled emerald eyes thin to slits as a gap in the buildings to her right appears. Her frame folds down, making her disappear into the crowd around her. A sudden break to the right and she ducks into the alley, pressing herself against the wall. She tries to quiet the pounding of her heart in her ears and her eyes dart around, seeking a way out.