Timil City

Timil City is alive. A sprawling ecumenopolis, it careens erratically into the clouds and burrows deep into the planet's core. The stark divide between the Upwards and Below is ever-changing, as with each new floor added to the Elite towers, the target cost of living to stay above climbs as well. Like many other worlds in the corporate-dominated star systems of the Centralvest Zone, Timil is massive, chaotic, and--when the constantly continuing construction has skimmed off funding for stabilization--often teetering on the edge of collapse.  

Undercity

Other worlds have struggled to rally their populations of castouts from corporate culture, many of them distrustful loners or families used to fighting on their own for every scrap. Not here. Residents of Timil's lower levels have been surviving for decades on decades without a successful corporate purge. Whether that comes from having an astronomical level of sheer spite, luck, or residents simply having a higher tolerance for biding their time, no one can be sure. What is certain is that while those other worlds have riots that are swiftly snuffed, Timil's undercity levels thrive in relative peace...for now.   Numerous collaborative communities and packs have more-or-less naturally spawned up all across Timil's Below and downwards, and even when battered and stomped underfoot by regulations from the Elite, the folks here spring right back up again like sturdy blades of grass. Life here is improvisation more often than not, particularly when it comes to one-upping each other on devious methods of rebellion right under the noses of corporate security.  

Elite Towers

Every act of survival down Below is a quiet defiance against the oppression from corporate rule. Unfortunately, every act of desperate scrambling to remain in the Upwards, as well as ambitions to rise up the floors and into the clouds, plays right into the pockets of the Elite.   And it is their pockets--Network-bound and Kitsch-filled accounts--that the Elite care about the most. Not the ants they can barely see beneath their glittery towers, though some do provide patronage to a choice selection of employees and members of the artist-ocratic class faring well enough to live in the Upwards. Not the mites scurrying about far under the concrete and steel structures, though should those pesky folk affect corporate bottom lines they have no problem sending out their security forces. Don't mess with their future income, and, usually, you'll escape notice.