Opening extract from INDIGO project - short film written October 2012
INT. Workhouse canteen - day
It's a busy work canteen within a dystopian run down
work house. Human workers are on long seated benches. There's a soup
kitchen at the back where some our queuing. Everyone is in a filthy
drone like state. The ceiling is open roofed with an invisible force
field so the rain doesn't get in.
There is an old style ping pong table in the middle.
Two workers get up off the benches. They ask a strange looking man for
access. He's very tall, thick jaw, long blonde hair, he takes a vial of
their blood and pockets it. The man nods and goes over to the table. He
places his fingers on it and puts his head down. The table illuminates
and a small ping pong sized orb forms in the centre. The two players
stand on opposite sides, one pulls the orb to him with a gesture and
they begin to play a non-contact round where the orb levitates between
them. They are using telekinesis to create there own gravity. All the
while, on a bench to the far wall sits Doctor Henry Shard, watching
them. A revolutionary ex-biologist and lecturer who was involved with
the early development in Indigo's Genetic Modification Unit. The 52
year old has gone underground, he's dirty, like the workers. Sporting a
moustache with a 4 day shadow. He's traveling.
Someone passes him some bread, he dips it in his soup and gobbles it down, all the while, his eyes fixated on the table-tennis.
His attention snaps when a bowl of soup clobbers down
in front of him. A large brutish man with a buzz cut and soul patch
sits down opposite. Ritchie, American with a hint of Chinese, about 7
feet tall, 30 years of age. He is wearing a denim vest with one long
sleave. Next to him is Dagen, 27, smaller and more agile but well
built. Light brown hair, tanned with piercing green eyes. He has a
necklace with a vial for a pendant. He's shuffling a pack of cards,
soup to one side.
Ritchie
Fucking Evos. We weren't made to be enslaved. Fucking working for them like
we are the weaker race. They adopt our society, our livelihood, our jobs. And
for what, so I can eat like a fucking 19th century cleaner on a 2
Gigabyte salary.
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