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Description
Opening Scene Alternate Location
(((Opening note: The player character will be written using who my character will be and my own choices. All player activities are to be open and non-linear, it's just hard to write a story made of options, so I'll be going back and re-writing with more options later.)))

The floors rumbled with the constant bouncing and shaking from hundreds of people above. The small bar room just a couple floors below the party rattled. The beats permeated the walls and floors, shaking the contents of the bottles lined up along the wall. A collected bartender, clean shaven and twisting a cloth inside a glass walked up and down the space between the counter and the pumps of liquor. There were not many people in the small clustered room, but it was loud enough. People were trying to speak over the beat, making orders to the waiter that went around where the tender would not, or talking to the people around them.
A small cluster of people gathered in the back, talking hushed like, while occasionally tossing booze down their gullets in miniature glasses. It came from a red coloured bottle with a twist cap on, or more accurately, off and resting beside it. There was a quick round of laughs and chuckles before they returned to their soft speech. The other patrons of the bar didn't seem to pay much attention to the largest group, keeping to them selves as most customers did. Keeping track of everyone, the bartender made a few rounds, giving the waiter a smoke-break. His feet swished softly, only to be overwritten by the trance pulsations from the rooms above.
"Jack! The usual grog, will ye? Nothing for the kid, he's the fresh," called out a large mass of tattered cloth and dirtied skin. His face was hardened, scared slightly at the far reaches of his face on the left side. There was stubble from his lack of shaving for the past few days. The brown hair on his head was ragged and tossed about. This behemoth's arms were barely covered, contrary to the rest of him which had layer upon layer. The arms however were like tree trunks, cut deep, rugged, and massive. There were layers of brown, tan, and faded light greenish cloth wrapped about his wrists and hands, though the fingers were still visible.
"Just a minute Greg!" called back the bartender as he reached the group of folks in the back. Inevitably he dragged off the bottle for a refill, or a replacement, and returned to the bar. Greg, the hulk was walking in towards the counter, followed by a much smaller companion. The companion's attire consisted of layered blacks and greys. Unlike Greg, his arms were mostly covered, save for a small band of pale, well cut arm at the center of the bicep, that looped around and reconnected with itself. He walked over, taking a seat beside Greg.
"Water, please," politely asked the grey-scale associate, while turning to face Greg. Greg himself would turn to face the bartender, and accept his drink gladly from the old friend of his. A quick sip from the glass mug, and the bulk would give a sighing, "aaahh."
While turning back to the fellow who followed him in, he'd begin, "Good stuff. Best drink in this part of the city. So, we just passed the dogs while coming here. Any minute that music will be cut off, and it'll have some peace and quiet in here. Pretty much the only thing they're good for." He took another sip. Greg laughed a little as the room suddenly quieted down. "Better, better. Now, down to business."
Grey-scale took a swig from his glass of water, then agreed, "Alright. Let's talk." He leaned up against the counter on one elbow awaiting his info. Grey-scale's companion laughed heartily, and pulled a packet of papers promptly from his pocket. Shuffling sounds filled the slowly hushing room, as the group in the back noticed the change in volume in the room without breaking their conversation.
Greg read out loud, "Notice: The Organization of the People's Benefits will be screening, training, then hiring more members into its law-enforcement task forces in order to quell the rebellious criminals who have taken to openly and savagely conflicting with the state. These people are hazardous to the peaceful lives of our citizens. If you happen to believe that someone you know is a member of the actions against this great world, please call the number below, or tell your local police force immediately. Remember: Only you can keep all of our streets safe." When finished, Greg laughed a deep, hearty laugh. He would chug his grog quickly and begin to explain, "Well, we're gonna be screwing up their plans just a little bit, but I'll let you choose how. Our biggest options are to full out brawl with the cops, but that doesn't seem wise, to take down as many of these posters as we can... maybe throw some rebellion propaganda up while we're at it, we can join up with the operation and botch their movements, one way or another... Or we can break out the rebels who are in the jails already."

Description
Opening Scene Alternate Location
(((Opening note: The player character will be written using who my character will be and my own choices. All player activities are to be open and non-linear, it's just hard to write a story made of options, so I'll be going back and re-writing with more options later.)))

The floors rumbled with the constant bouncing and shaking from hundreds of people above. The small bar room just a couple floors below the party rattled. The beats permeated the walls and floors, shaking the contents of the bottles lined up along the wall. A collected bartender, clean shaven and twisting a cloth inside a glass walked up and down the space between the counter and the pumps of liquor. There were not many people in the small clustered room, but it was loud enough. People were trying to speak over the beat, making orders to the waiter that went around where the tender would not, or talking to the people around them.
A small cluster of people gathered in the back, talking hushed like, while occasionally tossing booze down their gullets in miniature glasses. It came from a red coloured bottle with a twist cap on, or more accurately, off and resting beside it. There was a quick round of laughs and chuckles before they returned to their soft speech. The other patrons of the bar didn't seem to pay much attention to the largest group, keeping to them selves as most customers did. Keeping track of everyone, the bartender made a few rounds, giving the waiter a smoke-break. His feet swished softly, only to be overwritten by the trance pulsations from the rooms above.
"Jack! The usual grog, will ye? Nothing for the kid, he's the fresh," called out a large mass of tattered cloth and dirtied skin. His face was hardened, scared slightly at the far reaches of his face on the left side. There was stubble from his lack of shaving for the past few days. The brown hair on his head was ragged and tossed about. This behemoth's arms were barely covered, contrary to the rest of him which had layer upon layer. The arms however were like tree trunks, cut deep, rugged, and massive. There were layers of brown, tan, and faded light greenish cloth wrapped about his wrists and hands, though the fingers were still visible.
"Just a minute Greg!" called back the bartender as he reached the group of folks in the back. Inevitably he dragged off the bottle for a refill, or a replacement, and returned to the bar. Greg, the hulk was walking in towards the counter, followed by a much smaller companion. The companion's attire consisted of layered blacks and greys. Unlike Greg, his arms were mostly covered, save for a small band of pale, well cut arm at the center of the bicep, that looped around and reconnected with itself. He walked over, taking a seat beside Greg.
"Water, please," politely asked the grey-scale associate, while turning to face Greg. Greg himself would turn to face the bartender, and accept his drink gladly from the old friend of his. A quick sip from the glass mug, and the bulk would give a sighing, "aaahh."
While turning back to the fellow who followed him in, he'd begin, "Good stuff. Best drink in this part of the city. So, we just passed the dogs while coming here. Any minute that music will be cut off, and it'll have some peace and quiet in here. Pretty much the only thing they're good for." He took another sip. Greg laughed a little as the room suddenly quieted down. "Better, better. Now, down to business."
Grey-scale took a swig from his glass of water, then agreed, "Alright. Let's talk." He leaned up against the counter on one elbow awaiting his info. Grey-scale's companion laughed heartily, and pulled a packet of papers promptly from his pocket. Shuffling sounds filled the slowly hushing room, as the group in the back noticed the change in volume in the room without breaking their conversation.
Greg read out loud, "Notice: The Organization of the People's Benefits will be screening, training, then hiring more members into its law-enforcement task forces in order to quell the rebellious criminals who have taken to openly and savagely conflicting with the state. These people are hazardous to the peaceful lives of our citizens. If you happen to believe that someone you know is a member of the actions against this great world, please call the number below, or tell your local police force immediately. Remember: Only you can keep all of our streets safe." When finished, Greg laughed a deep, hearty laugh. He would chug his grog quickly and begin to explain, "Well, we're gonna be screwing up their plans just a little bit, but I'll let you choose how. Our biggest options are to full out brawl with the cops, but that doesn't seem wise, to take down as many of these posters as we can... maybe throw some rebellion propaganda up while we're at it, we can join up with the operation and botch their movements, one way or another... Or we can break out the rebels who are in the jails already."