Lux___Wolf
Ends of Eternity
ROMAN &
J U L I A N
@Lux___Wolf @Kurokat
ACT I
-prologue-
Two gangs, both alike in mutiny,
in fair Nestion, where we lay our scene,
from ancient grudge break to new dignity,
where toxic blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
a pair of star-cross'd lovers sacrifice;
whose misadventured piteous overthrows
do with their death bury their gangs' vice.
SCENE I
NESTION. Expo Center.
Rapid gunfire poured in the gigantic dark dome. In the apocalyptic silence, shouts and strained yells scattered their echoes down the hallways.
More gunfire. Two shadows headed down a corridor, guns unholstered and humming with teal light.
Tattooed on their wrists was a falcon with a ferocious bladed wingspan, the Capulet gang emblem.
"Wait," one told the other.
They panted in the claustrophobic quiet.
"Scared?" the other said in a mocking tone.
"Scared for you."
They didn't bother with laughter. That was something that belonged to the past.
Here, now -- any slipped sort of noise can get you shot.
They rushed to the balcony and looked down to the heart of the Expo Center.
Floodlights that lit up the place made it look less of the warzone it had used to be. The civilians of Nestion huddled to the walls, women and children, and the men who didn't join the gangs and were made into public servants and maids.
In the middle, Balt of the Capulets and Volio of the Montagues stood square.
"You don't know what you're doing!" Volio had batted down his men's plasma rifles, raising one flat palm in the electrified air.
On his wrist was the Montague emblem that was also on the extravagant banners behind him: a thick coiling anaconda that clamped its fangs into itself. Blood streamed down the right side of Volio's thunderstruck face. "Balt, keep the peace."
"Peace!?" Balt screamed, his black eyes wild with rage. "Look where we are. Peace is lost!"
Volio dared not take his eyes off Balt. They hunched like animals.
"Nestion knows not peace," Balt hissed.
Back at the balcony, one Capulet noticed something about the other.
"Are you... sucking your thumb?"
"I'm biting my thumb!"
"Oh, you know that's a nasty habit."
From both opposite walls, explosions blasted bricks and glass across the floor. Thud, thud, thud.
Heavy footsteps of thirteen-foot cyborgs drew to the middle. The lords of the Capulet and Montague gangs stared each other down grimly, rocket launchers armed and ready. Capulet spat, "Old Montague is come."
"You're the villain, Capulet," Montague replied.
This stirs cries from the people of Nestion. None of them would survive the mechanic assault if they were kept in here.
The gangs seemed deaf, hellbent to see their enemy make the first move.
The glass ceiling shattered and rained onto the Expo Center. A jet fighter lowered in, exhausting powerful pillars of fumes. It was the Duke, the newly budding authority of Nestion. He had just started his police force but had little to nothing to pay them. So, many had left. It was just him and a handful of others who were noble to the cause.
"Rebellious subjects! Enemies to peace!" Duke armed his weapon. His bullets were better than their bullets and would pierce their armor before they could reach his. "If you continue this blasphemy, all your lives will pay the forfeit! On pain of death, all you beasts depart!"
Capulet in his cyborg marched back from whence he came, as did Montague. Balt never broke his locked stare with Volio, retreating with the Capulets to the hazy darkness. Volio turned face and marched his men out of the Expo Center.
Duke surveyed the damage from his jet fighter in suffered silence.
A small hologram of a woman appeared: "Volio, where is Roman?"
She writhed her hands, clearly distraught.
"Most likely at his usual spot," Volio wiped his bloody face dry. "I'll go retrieve him."
"Please do, and clean yourself up," the woman said before disappearing.
- - - - -
At the chainlink fence, looking out at the ruined wastelands that was once their country, Roman gripped his oxygen tank and breathed in. Everything out there was toxic and no longer recognized. His golden eyes scanned the depressing horizon where clouds were fluorescent orange and the charred trees and buildings were rusted black. His gloved hands felt the chainlinks. His pale blond-grey spunk of hair and his long leather trenchcoat billowed with the dust. Roman glanced back at a familiar scuffle of footsteps.
"Good morning, cuz," Volio said.
"Is it?" Roman frowned. "Morning, already?"
Volio checked his watch, "Just struck nine."
Ay me. Sad hours seem long, Roman thought to himself.
END SCENE I
ROMAN &
J U L I A N
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