WORLD SETTING。(ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴀᴜɢʜ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ?)

[tekla]

Think of the world you live in today. Think of the bustling metropolis twenty-five minutes down the freeway from the nearest suburb; think of the dirty alley between two high-rise office buildings; think of the local elementary schools feeding into their respective junior high schools; think of the homeless man and his dog parked in front of the ritzy hotel; think of the neighborhood watch. Conglomerates and crooked politicians. The Red Cross and the Yakuza. Oil spills and radiation poisoning. The capitals, the country lanes, the nations suffering earthquakes and tsunamis. The famine, the mosquitoes, the disease. This is Tekla’s world, too. She lives in the flat next door. She can hear you doing your laundry. She can also hear you thinking about your grocery list and exactly what horrible things you’d do to your cubicle mate if you could. Tekla’s is a world where the term “paranormal” is more than myth or palm readings, or the subject of televised entertainment (you’ve heard of a relevant Syfy series, and you know the latest ridiculous film everyone loves to shiver over). This doesn’t mean the majority of the population is privy to the fact that people with her powers exist — it just means that they do, and some of them seek a special sort of gainful employment. Yoriksson Enterprises, based in Stockholm, is a marketing firm that essentially doubles as a temp agency for the paranormally and superhumanly gifted. Circulating and rotating employees make for approximately ¾ of its payroll; the rest keep the firm operational on the surface level, some of them possessing gifts, while others are same-sensory humans trusted with classified information. The CEO, Lars Yoriksson, is what laymen call a Seer and what colleagues call a Timeframer. Naturally, not every Tom, Dick, and Telepath wants to work for Big Brother, and if they do, certainly some of them prefer to keep it casual where it’s permitted. Safety in numbers isn’t a concept that always applies to this particular world minority — not when others like you might sell you out in a heartbeat in order to keep their own cover. Work for someone else, and you’ll always risk the possibility of being considered expendable. Yoriksson Enterprises advertises a haven of sorts for the gifted, but the reality every employee comes to face is that each of them is a number, not a name. A sizeable percentage of gifted humans are either self-employed, work for government agencies, or live as if they have no extrasensory abilities whatsoever. There are those who prefer to ignore their own “abnormalities” as much as possible; not all powers are considered gifts by everyone who possesses them. Tekla, for her part, prefers to freelance. Her gift is, however, so strong that, when coupled with her technical skills, YE chooses to employ her with a great deal more consideration, seniority, and freedom. While not given complete reign over her actions when working under the Yoriksson name, she is an asset that is considered rare even among her peers. Reign given or not given, she tends to take what and go where she wants, when she wants. Like the term “temp” implies, she doesn’t stay in one position for long.