Corperate Takeover 1x1

[Raven]

Rebel:
Noun:
1. A person who refuses allegiance to, resists, or rises up against his or her government.
2. A person who resists any authority, control, or tradition.
Adjective:
1. Rebellious, defiant.

They had things like this occur so often they had a word for it? How had todays people just missed out on not just a word, they changed, but an entire idea? How was that even possible? Frederick puzzled in the wee hours of morning. Well if they could... maybe he could too and stop the... what was the word? Massacre. The massacre of factory workers. He nodded. But he was sure that while one person might have gotten away with this in old times, he would need to find half an army to succeed today. And he couldnt ask anyone who wouldnt turn him in.... so where to begin?

[Gifted]

He made it to his home and ran into Tylers office. He logged on to Tylers computer and started sorting through files.
There was a file on every citizen on the continient, but they were all kept in a big, centeral database you had to go online to access, and Owen didn't have the nerve to go online on Tylers computer yet, thinking they could watch orr track him if he tried. He didn't exactly understand how the internet worked, as nobody but government officals had computers. Truth be told, Owen only sort of knew how to operate it, from one lesson Tyler had given him. Tyler had told him he'd get a better introduction to it when he actually started his job. As a result, even the simplest functions were a puzzle to Owen. Nevertheless, he soon had his dads small collection of files open. They were mostly files on those related to government officals (Government officals themselves had their files in some top-secret site on the internet) and people who were on there way to becoming government officals.

The first file that caught his eye belonged to somebody named Deborah. it contained her medical information, credit number and balance, and birth certificate. But it was the things that she didn't know would be on there that he was interested in. Stuff she wouldn't know herself. He made careful notes on her file and went to click to the next one, when he heard Tyler in the front enterance.
Hurriedly, he closed the files down and tunrned off the computer. It had just shut off when Tyler came in.
"Owen, what are you doing in my office?" He challenged.
Owen needed to think fast. His brain went a million miles a minute as he tried to think of the best way to lie, to trick, to decieve his way out of this.
"Tyler, what did you do with that stupid repair request form this time?" Owen snapped. "My Stupid hoverboard is glitching out again."
"Don't speak to me like that." Tyler snapped back. "I am your father and you will address me as such. "
"Ok, dad. Where's the form?"
Tyler relaxed. "I put them on top of the fridge, remember? because I was sick of you raiding my office every month or so," he flashed a smile, but after dealing with that lying, manipulative yahoo for seventeen years, Owen didn't give this much weight.
"Oh... yeah..." He sounded guilty.
"How many hoverboards have you gone through now?" Tyler laughed good-naturedly. "What are you doing to those things?"
"I dunno! I just ride!" Secretly Owen thought it might be the ashes in the feild that were messing up all his boards, but he didn't change anything because it was Tyler who gave him money, so it was really Tylers expense. And anything that made life more difficult for Tyler was fine with him. He left the office and went to his room.

Meanwhile, Tyler let the smile fall and crept into the front room where Owen kept his hoverboard. He turned it on and smiled softly when it came to life without the slightest glitch. "You're a good liar, Owen. But not yet better than me, I'm afraid. I wonder what he was really doing in there....?"

In his room, Owen was frustrated. One file. Really? He was going to need more than that before he went back to Ryan. But he didn't dare go back on the computer with Tyler snooping around

[Raven]

The next day, he was on his way to what had been Utah. Maybe he could find some workers at his next post who were willing. Or at least some who would consider it, if he found more people. He could only hope. He got there twenty minutes before the factory actually opened, as was usual. It was part of his job to make sure that the factory opened for work as efficiently as possible. It led to few sleeping hours when his posts were this far away. He stifled a yawn, watched, and waited, looking for something wrong, but also keeping his eye out for any workers who had obvious awful jobs, the kind that put them in danger from the things he wasn't authorized to correct.

[Gifted]

Deborah came into sight five minutes before the factory opened. She was walking wearily to the factory, despite living for hours away. Her car, like almost everything else she'd ever owned, had been traded away to survive.It was this Adidas bar code tattoo. That's what had set her wrong. When she turned 15, she was desperate to get it. Everyone was, at that age. It was just so much more convinient. It made your life easier. Besides, it was mandatory now. She'd gotten it on the morning of her fifteenth birthday.
Then things started going downhill. A test was issued to select students, including all destined to go into government jobs. Most people failed, but it was said anyone who was raised by someone with a government job would pass, that they were smarter than most.
She'd failed the test, and didn't find out until afterwards what that meant; she was never going into her government job. She wouldn't be following her parents footseps. She was done.
Her government-destined friends left her behind, worried she'd be a blemish on their records, and for the last year of her school life she'd been completley alone.
Finally, in her year of down time, she'd bought herself a nice little apartment. That hadn't been so bad. She hadn't really done anything with herself that year.
Then the next year, she'd started her job. It was tedious, difficult, repetitive work, but she'd expected as much. She stayed in the entry-level position for about three months, and then they moved her.
Her new job was terrible. She never had a moments rest, always running from one place to the other, and if she didn't move fast enough, or paused for too long, she could get her hand cut off. Then her pay was slashed, to half of what the others doing the same job were getting. But still. she was getting by.
At least until her tattoo stopped working.
It still worked when she tried to buy food, and it allowed her to sell things just fine. But whenever she tried to buy anytihng, even basic neccessities like clothes and shampoo, it wouldn't work. She'd tried to get it checked out at the government building, but it was no use. Her home was sold withoutn her knowledge, probably by a con man, and she was forced to move out with all her possessions. Her parents took pity on her and bought her this place, but now she had to pay them rent. And with rent and food, her salary wasn't really enough to keep her alive. So she began to sell things to get by. Some of her things were sold, and some were traded away for things like shampoo or rides to work. She would be hunted down by the police if she didn't show up.

It wasn't hard to spot her. Her hair was multi-coloured, blond near the top, but halfway down changed to a flaming red. The only reason for this was back when she'd been well off, she'd dyed it red all the time, but it had been so long since she could afford hair dye it had since grown out.

[Raven]

"You're early," Frederick commented after checking the time. He hadn't thought anyone lived within walking distance of this place, but apparently he was wrong.

[Gifted]

"I'm always about five minutes early. It gives me time to rest from the walk before the day begins." She said honestly, but inside she was worried. Great, today was inspection day. They were always worked harder on inspection day so the factory would get a good review, and though Deborah knew it wasn't really their fault, she'd grown to resent the inspectors, as had most of her co-workers. But she wasn't going to be unkind. She sat gratefully down leaning against the wall, and waited for her boss to arrive.

[Raven]

"If it's such a long walk, why don't you get a ride?" He didn't take the workers to be out of shape, so maybe she did live farther away. He said it casually, though, as though he were completely ignorant of hardship.

[Gifted]

"I couldn't afford it." Deborah replied. "I'm out of things to trade for a ride here."

[Raven]

"Most people get by on factory salaries," Freddy commented, just as casually.

[Gifted]

"Most people don't have to pay rent every month, they own their homes." Deborah replied. She wished he would leave her alone. "Or if they do, their landlord pays for the water, furniture and electricity."

[Raven]

"So you're unhappy with your salary," Frederick said, it wasn't even really a question.

[Gifted]

"I get paid half of what the others doing my job are getting." Deborah said. Then she gave a sad smile, not wanting to burden others with her concerns. "But I'll be fine. it's just a little far to fall, that's all."
Just then the factory boss showed up, on time to the minute. "Ah, you must be the inspector. Welcome." He shook Fredricks hand warmly. Then he shot a sidelong glancwe at Deborah. "I hope my employee wasn't bothering you."

[Raven]

"Not at all, we were just chatting about the weather, I haven't spent much time in this area and was curious," Frederick said with a smile. "I prefer not to work when I don't have to, much the same as everyone I'd suspect." He motioned at the door. "Shall we get started?"

[Gifted]

He nodded. Deborah wondered why the inspector hadn't told the truth.
"Deborah, to your post." Her boss snapped, and she went inside.
The boss had the factory up and running at full capacity in two minutes. Most workers stuck to their position and workedd the hardest and quickest they could. But Deborah was part of the lowest of the low, a group of about seven workers who did not stay at one machine but darted back and forth, constantly running at full speed to get different pieces to different workers, off of this conveyor belt and onto that one, sometimes having to stick their hands into the midst of very dangerous machinery. One false move at the wrong station could result in a lost hand, but every item that fell off the conveyor belt costed money. Small wonder then, when the air was ripped apart by a scream of pain somer four hours later.
Deborah jerked her hand from the machine and slumped to the ground. The top of her middle finger had been cut clean off, down to the first phalage (that would be the part of your finger that bends. so, not too far from the bottom of her fingernail) and she was bleeding and clutching her wounded hand.
"Deborah, off the floor!" her boss shouted. Her sitting there meant the other runners had to go around her, which would decrease effincency and thereby negatively affect the review. Not to mention her blood might contaminate the stock.
Another runner stopped and knelt down. "Deborah, you've got to move! If you don't get off the floor the boss will be furious, especially since it's inspection day. Come on, let me help you."
"Stephen, get back to your post! Deborah, get off the floor this instant!"
Deborah felt like crying, but she stood up and managed to get into the break room.
"Katie! Clean that up!" the boss got someone cleaning up the blood on the ground.

[Raven]

"It seems to me," Frederick stated calmly, "that if you had a boarder on the conveyer it would make it harder for things to fall off. Even after that mess is clean you're down a worker until she gets the bleeding to stop, and the wet floor could cause someone to slip."