truthofself
resident problem child
" nothings going to be the same from here on out "
" nothing ever been the same since i met you "
" nothing ever been the same since i met you "
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Futuristic 🗝️ overheating 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐲.
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truthofself
resident problem child
Time passed like a story book for many of the North_East City. So many blinded by the events that occurred. The ultimate coup. Everyone saw it coming, miles away, weeks out, days prior. No one thought it was strange or unexpected. It was just, a matter of time before it happened, it was a ticking time bomb of an event, of when the downfall would play out, when would all the silly politicians finally be null and void, and the Corps would stand tall, finally playing the true role of the puppet masters they've been trying to play for years.
Trix, Behemoth, knew it was coming; being the Board Director of Finance for Seyama-Meyer, Trix was quite involved in the plan. Or at least, aware of it enough where they were playing the role of double agent. Being able to track the progress of it, and sell the info off to the underground, being able to control the supply and demand feed of anything Seyama related. It was a quick and easy business for them, it was second nature.
Their first nature? It was a secret, only one person knew it; and they had taken it to the grave. Literally. Trix was controlling, demanding, they got in with the wrong crowd; after being given everything by the right crowd, but maybe that was the temptation of joining the wrong crowd. At least, thats what their parents used to tell them. The kidnapping changed a lot of how their brain chemicals worked, changed their outlooks, the way the world functions was revealed to them and they have never been the same. Only one person knew who Trix was, only one person over looked their initiation, they knew Trix's face, and since they joined The Ascendants, the #1 gang in the North_East, Trix always wore a mask. No one ever saw their face; no one knew their voice, being able to change it with vocal augments, Trix was a nobody. Or at least, T was. T was such a bad codename, but it was given to them. A badge of honor, t for top, for tower, for truth, for trust, for true ruler.
True Ruler. Oh how true that was.
With the coup being staged, with everything in the world changing, T decided the Ascendants needed to ascend. It was time for a new life, a new era. The True Ruler needed to step up. It wasnt a hard task, the old leader; he was, old to say the least. They mentored Trix, they knew Trix, they knew their face, their voice, they knew their name; who they were. Old Geezer, didn't even see it coming. It took weeks of set up, so many were already backing Trix, no one seemed to bat and eye when the old geezer finally was laid to rest. The way, Trix ascended the throne, taking everything under their control, no one dared question it, or worried.
Trix's only concern was, how was everything to function with the Corpo take over? Only time could tell.
LexiLestrange4167
Space Cadet
A thick vapor streamed from the manholes and drains, swirling around the ankles of pedestrians jockeying for space on the sidewalk. Car horns punctuated merchants’ shouts, and the savory-sweet smell of street food mingled with the noxious smell of exhaust. Neon signs snaked along L Street, the lowest ones standing at eye level and the largest plastered across entire sides of skyscrapers. Advertising anything from food to nighttime entertainment, the glare of their multicolored lights cast a frenzied glow on the neighborhood below.
As twilight melted into night, the late summer heat began to loosen its chokehold. With the gray waters of the Atlantic clinging to its outer rim, The Narrows were often the most humid in North_East City. The air could become so dense at times that it felt solid. Despite this moisture, not a single blade of grass grew here. It was too polluted- the towering buildings bit into the sky and trapped the smog at street level.
Considered the lousiest neighborhood in the city, government planners saw to it that all of the major streets, which led to the more affluent Tier 2 and 3 neighborhoods, circumvented The Narrows completely. The Tier 1 neighborhoods were located clear across the city. Only the lowest Tier 4s lived there and once in a while a higher Tier 4 or even a Tier 3 could be spotted taking advantage of the seedier aspects of the district.
Rian Finley wiped his forehead and swore at the heat. For the fourth straight week, a stifling midsummer heat wave had settled over the city. Rian felt at home in the Narrows gritty allies. Having grown up there, the streets had taught him more about life than either of his parents had before their untimely deaths.
“I need some air…” Rian mumbled to his partner, Isaiah. He pulled the idling squad car parallel to the curb and shut off the engine.
“Finley, where are you going? Were still on watch…” He shouted over the hustle of the street. Rian smiled sardonically as he looked at his partner over his shoulder.
“Relax, Hendrikson…” He said nonchalantly. Im going to talk to Oriana. Besides, we only have an hour left.
Rian pushed through the dense crowd of people who moved away from them when they spotted the badge on his chest. The police who patrolled in The Narrows had a well-deserved reputation for being brutal, impatient and corrupt. Rian had done plenty to reinforce these characterizations.
Rian cut through a wide alleyway with the intentions of using the bar's side entrance, but was immediately met with the shrill sounds of screaming echoing from the opposite end of the backstreet. At the end of the alley, a man dressed in all black was holding a couple at knifepoint, presumably robbing them. Rian rolled his eyes and drew his service weapon. The woman screamed and clutched her husbands arm even harder. They were very obviously not from The Narrows, and could quite possibly be Tier 3s judging by their clothes.
"Knife down asshole, now!" Rians voice had a cutting and authoritative quality about it, causing the robber to jump slightly. Rian walked steadily closer to him, gun unwavering.
"5, 4, 3..." Rian began counting down, the man's intransigence infuriating him. On "2," the knife clattered to the ground. "Kick it over to me," he ordered and the man acquiesced. When Rian reached the man, he kicked his feet out from under him and he hit the pavement, hard. Rian gave him several swift kicks, feeling a rib or two crack against his steel-toed boots. Rian turned his attention to the couple.
"Get the fuck out of here; this is no place for 3's," The coldness of his voice sent the two slinking off into the night. Rian watched them over his shoulder, making sure they had gone. Threes did not have much sway but it was better not to flagrantly break the law in front of anyone but Fours.
Rian turned back to the robber, who was pinned to the ground underneath his foot.
"Bad night to fuck around, my friend," Rian spoke before shooting the man pointblank in the head. He rifled through his pockets, finding quite the haul from the man's work - an expensive-looking watch, a diamond ring, some Synth capsules... Excellent.
Rian pulled out a small syringe from his breast pocket and popped one of the capsules into it. he placed it against his forearm and hit the dispensing button. He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the graffiti scarred brick wall.
It was every man for themselves these days. Everyone knew it was coming - the Corpo takeover... But no one knew what it meant know that it had happened. The footmen for the Gangs were already looking at him sideways, as if they hadn't been working together for years at this point. You had to take whatever you could while you could get it.
As twilight melted into night, the late summer heat began to loosen its chokehold. With the gray waters of the Atlantic clinging to its outer rim, The Narrows were often the most humid in North_East City. The air could become so dense at times that it felt solid. Despite this moisture, not a single blade of grass grew here. It was too polluted- the towering buildings bit into the sky and trapped the smog at street level.
Considered the lousiest neighborhood in the city, government planners saw to it that all of the major streets, which led to the more affluent Tier 2 and 3 neighborhoods, circumvented The Narrows completely. The Tier 1 neighborhoods were located clear across the city. Only the lowest Tier 4s lived there and once in a while a higher Tier 4 or even a Tier 3 could be spotted taking advantage of the seedier aspects of the district.
Rian Finley wiped his forehead and swore at the heat. For the fourth straight week, a stifling midsummer heat wave had settled over the city. Rian felt at home in the Narrows gritty allies. Having grown up there, the streets had taught him more about life than either of his parents had before their untimely deaths.
“I need some air…” Rian mumbled to his partner, Isaiah. He pulled the idling squad car parallel to the curb and shut off the engine.
“Finley, where are you going? Were still on watch…” He shouted over the hustle of the street. Rian smiled sardonically as he looked at his partner over his shoulder.
“Relax, Hendrikson…” He said nonchalantly. Im going to talk to Oriana. Besides, we only have an hour left.
Rian pushed through the dense crowd of people who moved away from them when they spotted the badge on his chest. The police who patrolled in The Narrows had a well-deserved reputation for being brutal, impatient and corrupt. Rian had done plenty to reinforce these characterizations.
Rian cut through a wide alleyway with the intentions of using the bar's side entrance, but was immediately met with the shrill sounds of screaming echoing from the opposite end of the backstreet. At the end of the alley, a man dressed in all black was holding a couple at knifepoint, presumably robbing them. Rian rolled his eyes and drew his service weapon. The woman screamed and clutched her husbands arm even harder. They were very obviously not from The Narrows, and could quite possibly be Tier 3s judging by their clothes.
"Knife down asshole, now!" Rians voice had a cutting and authoritative quality about it, causing the robber to jump slightly. Rian walked steadily closer to him, gun unwavering.
"5, 4, 3..." Rian began counting down, the man's intransigence infuriating him. On "2," the knife clattered to the ground. "Kick it over to me," he ordered and the man acquiesced. When Rian reached the man, he kicked his feet out from under him and he hit the pavement, hard. Rian gave him several swift kicks, feeling a rib or two crack against his steel-toed boots. Rian turned his attention to the couple.
"Get the fuck out of here; this is no place for 3's," The coldness of his voice sent the two slinking off into the night. Rian watched them over his shoulder, making sure they had gone. Threes did not have much sway but it was better not to flagrantly break the law in front of anyone but Fours.
Rian turned back to the robber, who was pinned to the ground underneath his foot.
"Bad night to fuck around, my friend," Rian spoke before shooting the man pointblank in the head. He rifled through his pockets, finding quite the haul from the man's work - an expensive-looking watch, a diamond ring, some Synth capsules... Excellent.
Rian pulled out a small syringe from his breast pocket and popped one of the capsules into it. he placed it against his forearm and hit the dispensing button. He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the graffiti scarred brick wall.
It was every man for themselves these days. Everyone knew it was coming - the Corpo takeover... But no one knew what it meant know that it had happened. The footmen for the Gangs were already looking at him sideways, as if they hadn't been working together for years at this point. You had to take whatever you could while you could get it.
truthofself
resident problem child
Everything had settled like debris after a grenade, like ash rain from fires, everything settled, in scaps, in pieces. Nothing was left pristine or untouched, everything showed usage, showed age, showed the catastrophe that happened here just weeks ago. And that was something that Trix liked about the world. Even with living in the zone for Tier 2's, where everything is pristine; not the best it could be, but close enough. Traveling to the lower Tiers, and looking about, smelling the Smaug, the the trash weirdly enough. It was joy for Trix, to visit those areas, to see how others live; to experience it.
Maybe thats why they spent so much time traveling between the tier zones. Maybe thats why; they donned a mask. No, it was only part of the reason, the other being their role as Gang Leader. Being faceless, hiding behind a mask; who knew if they were watching, when they were watching No one knew who T was, and no one would ever expect it to be Trix Beowulf. Not with the mask, and voice changers. Never.
And that was something they liked. The rush, the adrenaline. Everything they got from living two lifes that were constantly pit against each other made them feel complete. And thats how they felt down, lounging at the bar, in the Tier 4 area. One foot up on the stool next to them, the bottom section of their mask, was open for the moment, allowing them to throw back yet another drink the abrtender had givn them. They had hardly been able to feel any effects of the alcohol, just wishing for it to take them under, and yet it never came. However, the same couldn't be said for a certain officer they had seen around. He did show, he did come into the bar; just like they hoped he would. It had been weeks since the change, lets see how hard negotiation a new deal would be.
Trix wasnt sure how easy this was going to be. The previous officer that they used as the middle man, had recently been, disposed off. He severed all he could, and Trix honestly found him a little bit boring after the collapse. He no longer served how he used to. And they couldn't risk him slipping away to expose anything. Easy to take our trash, but it did prove difficult to find new people to use. But the mention of Rian, had certainly piqued Trix's interest. He was known briefly to help sell info off to gangs, so why not throw their hat in fully; try to get them on their side. Be a little snitch for the Ascendants. Give him a little extra whatever he wanted in return, nothing had a cost Trix couldn't fulfill.
They sat idley at the bar, waiting, watching, swishing the little liquid left in the glass around. Their blood was pumping, their brain was racing; oh all the words they could say, of all the things they could offer. And yet, all they needed was for Rian to sit down within their vicinity. They wouldn't chase; even if it would be more fun that way. Let him come to them, and then from there; the game of cat and mouse can begin. But on Trix's terms. And no one elses.
Maybe thats why they spent so much time traveling between the tier zones. Maybe thats why; they donned a mask. No, it was only part of the reason, the other being their role as Gang Leader. Being faceless, hiding behind a mask; who knew if they were watching, when they were watching No one knew who T was, and no one would ever expect it to be Trix Beowulf. Not with the mask, and voice changers. Never.
And that was something they liked. The rush, the adrenaline. Everything they got from living two lifes that were constantly pit against each other made them feel complete. And thats how they felt down, lounging at the bar, in the Tier 4 area. One foot up on the stool next to them, the bottom section of their mask, was open for the moment, allowing them to throw back yet another drink the abrtender had givn them. They had hardly been able to feel any effects of the alcohol, just wishing for it to take them under, and yet it never came. However, the same couldn't be said for a certain officer they had seen around. He did show, he did come into the bar; just like they hoped he would. It had been weeks since the change, lets see how hard negotiation a new deal would be.
Trix wasnt sure how easy this was going to be. The previous officer that they used as the middle man, had recently been, disposed off. He severed all he could, and Trix honestly found him a little bit boring after the collapse. He no longer served how he used to. And they couldn't risk him slipping away to expose anything. Easy to take our trash, but it did prove difficult to find new people to use. But the mention of Rian, had certainly piqued Trix's interest. He was known briefly to help sell info off to gangs, so why not throw their hat in fully; try to get them on their side. Be a little snitch for the Ascendants. Give him a little extra whatever he wanted in return, nothing had a cost Trix couldn't fulfill.
They sat idley at the bar, waiting, watching, swishing the little liquid left in the glass around. Their blood was pumping, their brain was racing; oh all the words they could say, of all the things they could offer. And yet, all they needed was for Rian to sit down within their vicinity. They wouldn't chase; even if it would be more fun that way. Let him come to them, and then from there; the game of cat and mouse can begin. But on Trix's terms. And no one elses.
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