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Apr. 22nd, 2007

Chez Lex

Chez Lex

The place is a little like the woman herself, a bit of a messy mish mash but, if you're not trying to kill her, you'll get a warm welcome and your coffee made with the freshest milk she can find.
Don't be fooled though, behind the plywood partition lives a well worn punchbag and concealed within a wall, is a fairly impressive weapons haul.

Apr. 9th, 2007

Jam Pony

Jam Pony

Jam Pony takes up the bottom floor of an old building in Sector 9. Under the stylized bike rider sign, a roller door opens onto a concrete ramp busy with a constant flow of traffic. Bike couriers buzz through to pick up, and deliver packages. Those waiting for a job or avoiding actually having to do anything, hang around what could dubiously be called a "staff lounge" or more often, around the lockers in the back, forming an air of frenzied chaos.

To one side, in a glass and wire cage sits Normal; the manager and sometimes ringmaster of this three ring circus. Thanks to and sometimes in spite of his best efforts, packages are sorted and dispersed to their new homes. With an efficiency closely approaching the herding of cats; Normal, from his little nest of paranoia, enforces a layer of order and sanity over the crew.

Slackers and no-hopers he calls them. But they're fast, they're discreet and they know the city. Made up of students, alternative culture kids and the streetwise that have been running the streets of Seattle since they could ride, the Jam Pony couriers are an eclectic gang. But they'll get your package where it has to go, on time... give or take a few detours.
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Seattle Underground

Seattle Underground

Through purple skylights, an eerie lilac light filters down to illuminate an all but forgotten city known as the Seattle Underground.

The passages of the subterranean ghost town are dank and dusty. The windows and doors of long abandoned shops and dwellings break the monotony of red brick walls. Broken relics of a bygone era can be found scattered throughout the labyrinthine streets and buildings of the buried city, as well as more modern litter, left behind by urban explorers and shelter-seeking transients.

Patches of restored buildings mingle with ruin, the niceties of Pre-Pulse historical interest having offered partial salvation. But mostly, the decaying bricks remain coated with the soot and ash of a fire that raged long ago, the once-sturdy walls of the Underground now crumbling beneath the weight of the modern city built atop them.
A Broken World

Jondy and Original Cindy's Apartment

Located in Sector 5, Jondy and Original Cindy's crib is on the fourth floor of an apartment building which was abandoned mid-construction when The Pulse hit. Like the building itself, the apartment remains partially unfinished, with patches of exposed drywall and room dividers made from cleverly draped material. Furnished with an eclectic assortment of second hand furniture and innovatively used salvaged materials, the two bedroom apartment is a masterpiece of ghetto engineering.
A Broken World

Terminal City

Terminal City is a 20 square block industrial zone in sector seven which is fenced off against the public. It was mostly occupied by biotech companies back in the day, but when the Pulse hit, a whole bunch of them lost containment, resulting in one big-ass biohazard.

It's not safe for ordinary people to spend extended amounts of time the place - it's toxic and they get sick. This isn't a problem for the Transgenics, who were innoculated against all manner of bio-warfare agents by Manticore.

So in the wake of the destruction of Manticore, many Transgenics, freakish mutants and stunning X-series alike, have ended up moving into Terminal City, a place uninhabitable to anyone but them.
Sandeman's House

Sandeman's House

Originally built in the 1930's, the house that used to belong to Sandeman stands in a mild neighbourhood of sector eight. It consists of three stories, a top floor, ground floor, and basement.

It's been renovated and updated over the years, whilst still retaining it's antique charm, but left to the ravages of time and squatters in the wake of the pulse, the house is badly in need of repair. Despite the fact that many of the windows in the house have been broken and boarded up, stained glass windows on the eastern wall have somehow remained intact. Through these lead light windows, which feature an interesting snake and apple motif, light filters in, casting an array of colour over a large fireplace which dominates the front room, along with built-in shelves packed with old books.

In the basement, there is a trap door which leads down into the Seattle underground, a recent addition which allows the house to serve as the secret gatehouse to Terminal City, the place the Transgenics have claimed as their own.
A Broken World


Housed in a converted warehouse, Crash is divided into three large chambers by naked brick archways. TV screens of varying size display violent collisions between cars, trains, buses, anything mechanical that moves. The bigger and more spectacular the crash, the better - that's how the bar got it's name.

Running the entire length of the the wall behind the bar, a sculpture constructed of bicycle parts is displayed against backlit plexiglass. Industrial metal barrels and tables constructed of Manhole covers are scattered around, each surrounded by a cluster of chairs.

The far room holds pool and foosball tables, and the jukebox plays a wide selection of urban grooves, beats and rhymes.

A very happening bar, Crash is a popular hang-out for a wide variety of Seattle's young people, most notably it's the main relaxation station for the riders of Jam Pony.