She wore the mirrorshades to protect her soul.
Megan was behind the camera all the time. She never wanted to be in front of it, never let the lens to peer at her, but she always wanted to be behind it. It was the filter to protect her from what the Pacific Northwest tried to push on everyone. Seattle wasn’t the city her parents grew up in, it was barely the city her grandparents lived in, and Lord knows it wasn’t the metropolis her great-grandparents retired in. The Great Emerald City was now the hub of the world after the borders being redrawn over the past half century. It was ugly and beautiful and dangerous and safe and exotic and familiar and hateful and loving all at once. She knew how to walk down the street so as not to attract the go-gangers, or Lone Star (or was it Knight Errant now? Who had the city awarded the police contract to?), or whoever else had some sort of nefarious intent within them.
Tonight she had a not so nefarious intent within her. At least not tonight, doing her... normal job. She had been toying around with a new idea for an exhibit: Seattle After Dark. Have to work on the title she thought to herself. It sucked. It was cliché. But what she wanted to do was look around Seattle after the sun had set and the real denizens of the city came out to play and find them doing whatever they did. Megan didn’t know what she was going to find, but she was looking for it.
Her camera was going to tell their story. Yeah, Megan had a real camera. Not some cybereye enhancement that anyone could have implanted for like a couple thousand nuyen: this was a real camera, one that had to have film inserted in it. She only had 32 shots per roll, and each one had to be developed by hand by her, so each one had to count. She had to frame the subject, position them in the lens to get just the right composition; she had to set the exposure to make sure the subject would develop in the frame; she had to focus on the subject and their objective. In short she had to tell a story. Anyone could flap an eyelid and snap a photo, few could really tell a story with exposure and composition and focus.
Her Read Hair draped over her neck, the same porcelain neck that was bundled up in a grey scraf and a deep red leather jacket. She had no makeup on; it would only be ugly icing on her skin and would offer no protection to the Emerald City’s perpetual winter. There was little need for it though: her freckles speckled her face just enough to give the illusion of a touch of makeup. And her lips were naturally a little red. Her tight leather pants were covering long johns, and were tucked into her calf high boots with just a little bit of heel to give her an extra inch. Of course her butt got pushed out just the right amount. She wasn’t going out for fun and great times with friends, but she couldn’t help but try to look damn good doing it.
The mirrorshades Megan wore were not replacement eyes. She used them as a ranger finder, light meter, color temperature meter, and any other little tool she needed but didn’t want to carry. They could do low light or thermo vision if need be (she was only human after all). She rarely retracted them back under her skin though: she was used to hiding her deep green eyes from the world.
Anyway, time to hit the streets! Maybe she would even come across some Neobrumbians.
Megan was down her favorite street, Pike Street. The Hotel Nikko was coming up on her right. The large avenue for a driveway was always full to the bring with cars, most of them luxury. The newest model of red Eurocar was parked right near the lobby entrance. It was like sex on wheels: smooth and even at every angle, round where you would want it to be, and balanced for perfect performance. She had heard one roar down the street once: it was like a dragon purring as it glided down the street.
From the Eurocar emerged a lovely couple: an Elf with the skin of chocolate, and a human that was a radiant gold. The Elf was bald, making his large pointed ears stand out even more prominent. His slim body was covered in a three-piece blue suit that clashed with the car. The woman that was on his arm wore a sleek golden dress that sparkled as she walked. Her hair was styled to look like it was messy, but it bounced and swung with each step and then landed right back where it had started.