#(not the only one at least. i am wearily handshaking with one of my close friends in the queer student group. but like. they're struggling)

[astriiformes]

Me, gritting my teeth as I do my best to ignore the fact that I have been battling my own brain particularly intensely (a mental health crisis that is ongoing, due to life circumstances that cannot be changed) and the many other responsibilities that have been stressing me out as of late so I can instead throw myself into the middle of a complex, inflammatory conflict between two groups I care about that is threatening to have a horrific amount of emotional collateral in part due to the fact that no one else has been willing to step up as a mediator: Wow, just like in Pentiment

[anothertimdrakestan]

Lovebirds Damian Wayne x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Requested? Yes! From a few lovely anons!

“So far i am loving your blog and went through like all of your writing🥰💖💖💖💗💞! I was wondering if you could do 'star sapphire corp reader' x damien please? Like them getting together” and “Could you please do sapphire lantern reader with your choice of the batboys meeting on a mission?”

LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

I absolutely love the sapphire corps! Thank you for these adorable requests! Dami plus a lover actually in tune with their emotions- hell they’re powered off the emotions- is too funny and so adorable! Also we are going to pretend that Raven and Damian aren’t a thing even though I’m using the DCAU teen titans alrighty? Plus it gives me a chance to ship BBRAE YEAHHHH! Hope you enjoy!

I’m so sorry it’s long it’s my first fic back I was so excited haha

“Deep breaths and English you got this” you stared at yourself in the mirror of your makeshift room in titan’s tower. Being the youngest member of the star sapphire corps you were the one tasked with the trip to earth, it made sense, no one wanted to work with teenage earthly heroes but you. Finally, a chance to meet a being similar in age to you! No more old hymns about the power earthly love, you were about to experience it first hand. 

Your mentor had called in a favor and you had been escorted to earth by none other than the physical embodiment of flirtatiousness, Hal Jordan. The trip itself was tiring so upon a midnight arrival you retired to your room without meeting anyone. Now, you could hear a bustling of voices, there was so much emotion radiating it seemed slightly overwhelming, so you opted to wait for Hal to come pull you from your room. 

At the familiar knock you shook away your nerves and flexed your hands into fists, feelings your ring almost pushing you to go outside. “Howdy miss l/n! Ready to meet your new team?” You were greeted with the cheesy grin that had apparently wooed your mentor, but always prodded you. “Good morning Hal, temporary team remember?” you replied, letting your aura be picked up by your purple light. Hal coughed awkwardly, “we walk on earth newbie, not many float here” embarrassed, you touched back down, clearing your throat as you exited your quarters. 

As you made your way down the hallway shouting grew, but upon you entering the room went quiet. With a small smile wave you scanned the room, noticing a green boy who was burning a strange looking food, two other boys who had froze to look at you but stood at a large table that made a strange sound, and lastly a raven haired boy who was sharpening a- sword? At ten in the morning? On the couch. The green boy came up to you first, “hello! You must be y/n! I’m Gar, there’s Jaime, Vic, Robin, and Raven isn’t here but she’s also part of the team! Nice to meet’cha!” Trying to keep up with the names Gar started shouting “SHE’S HERE Y’ALL” apparently to summon a woman who looked like the leader, as she was much older. Following her was a younger girl in a purple cloak, you quite liked her look and vibes, though she felt quite closed off. 

After learning more about everyone at a team breakfast with strangely prepared food you were with the team getting suited up as your mission to travel to Celea, a planet whose environment was toxic to any being over 18, making it a “teen titan’s mission” as they called themselves. As some of the titan’s changed into their suits and prepped themselves for combat you bonded with Raven and Blue Beetle as you had all loaded onto the ship fairly easily. “So why do you have a powerless human on your team? Do you not worry for his safety?” you wondered as you watched Robin methodically pack all his gear. “Trust me, Robin could take all of us out if he wanted to, he’s earned his spot on the team from pure skill and being a little bit of a monster- OOMPH” Jaime was cut off by Raven nudging him. You couldn’t help wanting to hear Robin’s story, as you were like him too- powerless but highly trained and craving to do more. Luckily you had a couple hours of flight to get to know the mysterious boy. 

The ship was large, built for a league of heroes apparently. This meant the team had spread out but you had stayed in the piloting area to assure yourself the team was on the right trajectory, apparently Robin was as well. “You actually know where we’re going?” his voice shook you from your calculations. “Yes, I’ve visited Celea before, but never to fight it’s people” you mused, wondering how in just a few years since your visiting a toxic group of manipulative outlaws had attempted to stake their claim to the beautiful Celea. “TT, not much of a fighter?” Robin mused snarkily, his flitted down to the ring on your finger. “Y’know your team here thinks you’re pretty strong, but I’d wager you’d be easy work for me” you teased back, twisting your ring around your finger as Robin came closer to you. 

(TW FOR BLOOD)

Sitting next to you he began, “my abilities come from my skill, my wit, and my determination. I don’t believe you can say the same princess” you scoffed, “you underestimate me Robin, this ring is nothing without me, not the other way around. Powered from my emotional control and my creativity, my skill takes focus and agility not just glorified muscle memory” you winked at him, enjoying the banter. He scoffed in return. “Yes and what can you do with that ring that I cannot defeat with my blades” he mused. This invitation was perfect. You got up jubilantly, started your lecture. “Clearly you lack certain knowledge Robin, hand me one of your so called blades” you stuck your hand out as Robin rolled his eyes handing you a bat-shaped blade. Without a second thought you cut into the side of your arm, wincing at the pain. “Y/N! What are you doin-” you cut Robin off, beginning to channel your power. “You see, true power is the ability to heal any cut your blades could make, to take was has happened and turn it into a place of love, not malice or hate” as you said this, the familiar purple tone washed over your arm, easily mending the break in your skin. You noticed it felt faster than usual, but wiped it off as adrenaline. 

(TW OVER)

At the display of your powers Robin was in awe. “That’s not all I can do” you laughed, creating a small purple hand that pushed Robin’s open jaw closed. He stumbled back angrily, mumbling about accepting your abilities merit. “You impressed now Robin?” you grinned, sticking out your hand to him. He closed the distance, returning your handshake. “Damian.” he said softly. You swallowed, Damian. It was becoming. Your ring began to warmly glow, Damian snapped his hand away wearily as you cooled your emotions. “Oh uh! Sorry, energy burst” you said, it was a half truth at least. Damian nodded, moving to go clean the batarang. 

The rest of the trip was short, upon entering Celea you’d divided, Damian was with you as the both of you entered publicly while Beast Boy and Raven entered covertly, planning to cover you if the diplomatic endeavors went south. Blue Beetle and Cyborg, unfortunately, weren’t allowed in Celea as their tech was apparently very old and triggered the planet’s defense system, so they stayed up in the ship was manning comms, prepared for an air fight. 

Upon entering you were taken straight to the capital, a sapphire corps was a rarity on Celea and they were all excited for your help. You and Damian met the governing leaders, explaining that you were here to help end the tyranny on the dark side of the planet. As you had hoped, they agreed, you could feel their love for their planet was strong, but that was about all the love on the planet as everyone was so young. It felt slightly difficult to keep a reign on your emotions on Celea, the planet itself was a safe haven for children, almost like a giant orphanage ran by beings that reincarnated frequently as to stay alive on the planet, the concept of pure love was foreign to many of the children and unharnessable. It all felt quite isolating in comparison to earth, a planet driven by intense emotions. 

“You look tired already” Damian mused. “I’m fine, just not a huge fan of a child-only planet” you responded as you made your way towards the large base, preparing yourself for a fight. Before Damian could respond you were joined by Raven and Gar. Their presence eased some of the pressure. “You guys love each other, it’s refreshing” you said, both of them froze, staring at you. “Oh uh, we haven’t really talked about that yet” Raven whispered, staring at Gar who was grinning like a child in a candy shop. “I love you too Rae!” he cheered. “Not how I imagined I’d say it but, yes, I do love you idiot” she huffed. Your cheeks flushed, “oh uh, my bad sorry, it just, seemed so obvious” you giggled, secretly glad you’d brought the two together. 

“Just a couple’a couples!” Beast boy teased, you felt your cheeks redden, glancing to Damian who was now suddenly interested in looking anywhere but at you. You felt your ring begin to glow again, covering it with your other hand. “Oh wow! Look at that! We’re here! Battle time!” you cleared your throat, setting the group focus on infiltrating the rogue base. 

The base itself was relatively small, it hadn’t been flushed out yet but the four of you were here to clear it before they had the chance. Trying to establish a child trafficking ring on a planet of only children was disgusting, and needed stopping before it got the chance. You were especially passionate about this endeavor, the reason for you channeling the power of love was when you lost your sister, that loss of love taught you it’s importance even at a young age, and after training harder than anyone you knew you earned the ring, promising to defend love the way no one defended yours. You would protect these children at any cost. 

There was no need for stealth as you had the permission of the Celean government, it was more of an ambush. As Gar shifted into a large tiger, Raven donned her hood, and Damian stripped himself of the Celean garb, you noticed his Robin suit, littered in weapons and ties, he looked like a hero. There was that damn glow again. Channeling it into your focus you felt the warm aura surround you as you lifted off the ground, ready for a fight. 

“Y/n should say it!” BB roared, Raven nodded in agreement. “Say what?” you looked at Damian. “We have this tradition where the leader says ‘Titan’s Go’ then we fight, and I guess you’re our leader today” he said, you noticed the light tint hiding beneath his mask. “Okay!” you said, positioning yourself, flexing your hand to feel your ring one last time before shouting.

“TITANS GO!” 

And you were off, soaring through the air while BB and Robin took the ground. You noticed a few scared looking kids were being held in pens, and you decided to free them first. As Raven covered you easily, you floated down to the kids, accidentally bonking heads with Robin who stared at you. “I’m so sorry! It’s just we always have to-” “Get the kids out first” he finished your sentence, a small smile dancing at the corner of his mouth. For just a fraction of a second, your eyes flitted down to his lips, feeling his gaze of you the moment felt like slow motion before you both snapped out. “Let’s go! This way!” you used your ring to break the gates as Robin herded the kids out to freedom. 

Glancing up you saw a couple rogues grabbing kids as they tried to run away, your heart stopped when you saw one pull out a laser blaster. “Enough!” you screamed, violet rays exploding from your hands as you easily knocked them out of your way. Leaving your post you flew up and began eradicating anyone who tried to harm a child. “No one hurts my sister!” you screeched, your powers growing stronger by the second as you began dividing your powers between knocking out bad guys and literally carrying children to safety. As the last of the kids were safe you escorted Beast Boy out while you and Raven combined your powers to crunch up the base, making it unfixable and uninhabitable forever. 

Feeling the adrenaline subside you glanced down to see a herd of children cheering, but your focus drew to Damian who was propped up against a barrel, nursing a laser bullet wound. Rushing to his side you quickly pulled open his suit, a trail of blood trickled into your hands. “Damn kevlar doesn’t stop their bullets apparently” he coughed. “Oh my god Damian don’t go” Gar shifted next to you. “He’s not going anywhere” you said, focussing your energy, feeling the pain and imagining turning the warmth of blood into mending, the pools of blood are just pockets of blissful love. 

This wasn’t a good time to tell the team you’d never healed a wound this large before. Positive self talk right? Or negative. 

I’m alone on a planet of useless children, surrounded by a glorified furry, goth, and stocked vigilante. No one is here to help you y/n you’ve gotta do this. You felt the wounds begin to mend, after all that focus you’d barely started. Damian you idiot! If you die right now how will I know why my damn ring is gleaming everytime I see your cute face. Fuck. I didn’t mean cute. Yeah I did. Okay, save the cute face. Maybe kiss the cute face if you save it? Yeah. That’s a good deal y/n let’s do that. Your head was rushing through a million thoughts, anything to motivate you to do the impossible. Halfway there, you could feel it. “Holy cow, look! The wound is closing!” Gar pointed at Damian’s chest. “Y-yeah. No help from you green bean” you mumbled. “Oh I know what’ll help!” Gar squeaked, running off. You turned to Damian who was just staring at you bewildered. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m literally repairing your organs bird boy” you whispered through clenched teeth. 

Then a surge of power came over you, it felt raw and unchanneled, you glanced up to see Gar mid-kiss with Raven, giving you a thumbs up. The love was short lived, but enough to keep your engine revving. Alright girl you got this, heal, then kiss, maybe. Definitely heal first. He has to live. C’mon. “JUST LIVE DAMMIT” you shouted the last bit, feeling the last of your power drain while the wound completely closed. “Holy shit I’m a badass” you whispered, before feeling intensely light headed. 

You woke up in the ship med bay, jolting up. “HE LIVED HE LIVED” you burst up, throwing a fist in the air. The other corps members would be so proud! Your first battle with death you’d won! “You’re right I did live, thanks to you” a familiar voice brought you back down to earth. Next to your bed was Damian, now in casual clothes with a little bandaging on his other wounds. “Oh! uh yeah, you’re totally welcome” you grinned. Awkwardly Damian scooted closer to you. “I think I owe you a certain gratitude” he said, emotions dripping in his voice you hadn’t heard before. 

This time his eyes snapped down to your lips, as he leaned in you felt like you were dreaming. When your lips connected you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, feeling lightheaded with pure joy. The kiss itself was soft, blissful and lovely. Damian’s lips felt soft against yours, like they fit with yours like a puzzle piece. Pulling away you stared at him shocked. “I could hear your thoughts when you were healing me, had to live up to your expectations” he winked while you covered your face with embarrassment. “Oh my gosh that’s so embarrassing yikes” you mumbled into your hands. You felt Damian’s hand slide under yours, caressing your cheek, drawing your eyes to his. “I thought it was pretty endearing personally, I suppose it’s because I was being saved by the most gorgeous, fascinating girl I know” he mused, before bringing you in for another kiss, this time more passionate, as if to show his feelings through a kiss instead of words. 

You spent the rest of your earthly get-away with the Titans, finding a sort of family with them. When you were called back to your people you promised to return in a few weeks, hoping to move your station to earth. They could always use another lantern right? 

When you returned to your mentor, C.Ferris you told her of your earthly adventures. She laughed, “a Star Sapphire’s greatest strength and weakness all wrapped into a snarky earth boy body” and you couldn’t help but agree. And with that, you were sent back to earth, this time returning as Dove, because every Robin needs a lovebird to help them along the way. 

[whumpcollector]

Lucas Pt.6: Couldn’t be worse

By the power of spring break I bring to you part 6 of Lucas’ story. We’re getting to the part I’ve been wanting to get to for a while so I hope you all enjoy!

Content warnings: Magical whump, slavery, dehumanization, forced labor, references/allusions to noncon, fantasy religion, drowning (sort of), depictions of violence. (If I have missed anything pls let me know.)

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It had been three months since he had entered the “care” of Captain Edwin and the witch hunters. Not that Lucas could tell for sure, time had lost a lot of meaning lately. The past months had been a marathon of physical punishment and deprivation. After that initial week of torture Edwin had begun the long and grueling process of grinding away what little resistance and dignity Lucas had left.

The day after he had pulled out his own tooth, after he had submitted himself to Edwin’s will, he was taken into a large windowless room. Inside the room was a pile of large rocks, and Lucas was given a simple order. Pick up the rocks, move them to the other side of the room, and then when every rock has been moved and a new pile has been made, do it all over again. He would do this until ordered to stop, and not a moment sooner. It was monotonous, exhausting, and utterly soul crushing. Exactly what Edwin wanted.

Lucas grunted in exertion as he lifted one of the larger rocks in the pile into his arms and began the impossibly long trek to the other side of the room. His legs and arms shook with exhaustion and sweat drenched his body. He wanted to rest, to take a break for just a moment and let his body just collapse onto the floor. But he wouldn’t. Breaks were not allowed unless given permission and the most minor of infractions were reported to Edwin and met with severe reprimand. 

The captain controlled every aspect of Lucas’ life. Lucas did not eat, drink, or sleep unless Edwin allowed him to, and disobedience was not tolerated under any circumstances. That lesson had been thoroughly beaten into him. Whatever resistance Lucas may have once had, whatever drive spurred him towards that one desperate bid for freedom had been long since snuffed out. Now all he wanted to do was avoid any more punishment and maybe even live to see the next day. 

He had been somewhat successful in that so far at least. 

He dropped the rock he was carrying and made his way back towards the smaller pile, savoring the few moments he was unburdened. Fatigue had soaked into his very bones, it had been days since Lucas last slept and what little magical reserves he had left and the fear of punishment kept him on his feet. He was just about to pick up another rock when he heard the witch hunter assigned to guard him call out.

“That's enough mage. Edwin wants to see you in his office.”  

A wave of relief flooded Lucas. He almost wanted to cry. He might finally be allowed to get some sleep. The witch hunter exited the room with Lucas following wearily behind him. The sudden prospect of rest seemed to have somehow enhanced the exhaustion he felt. His legs felt like they were made of iron and every step took more and more out of him. The dark hallways seemed to stretch on forever. As the trek continued Lucas realized that he hadn’t seen the sun since he was brought to the stronghold. The only light he was exposed to came from the lanterns the witch hunters carried with them. He couldn’t remember even seeing a window in his time here. He also realized, with a sort of defeated horror, that he didn’t really care. 

They reached Edwin’s office and the witch hunter opened the door. Before entering Lucas paused, and began to panic. Was he supposed to just walk in? He hadn’t been given an order, and just walking into the room might make it look like he was taking some sort of initiative. But then again Edwin had wanted to talk to him in his office, and waiting too long might make it seem like Lucas was disobeying an instruction. 

His spiraling was stopped by Edwin’s voice calling out from the office. “Come inside Lucas.”

The mage let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and walked inside the office. Edwin was seated at his desk, a simple utilitarian block of hardwood balanced on four legs. The captain was focused on some papers on his desk, a quill twirling between his fingers. He didn’t look up as he addressed Lucas.

“Your master Harold will be returning tomorrow. It seems our time together has come to an end.” 

Lucas felt a feeling of relief bubble inside of him. Master Harold had been a cruel taskmaster, but he was nothing compared to captain Edwin and the witch hunters. Whatever the man had planned it couldn’t be worse than what he had endured the past few months.

“I must say I am rather impressed with how quickly you have come to terms with your position in life. I have had others of your kind take up to a year to finally accept their stations, and you’ve only taken a scant three months.” Edwin looked up from the desk, an almost fond smile on his face. “I am glad that you’ve been so understanding.” 

Lucas didn’t say anything, keeping his gaze towards the floor.

“I have assured Harold that there will be no more outbursts from you.” Edwin’s smile vanished and was replaced with a piercing glare. “You wouldn’t make me out to be a liar, right?”

“N-no, captain. I...understand my place now.” 

Edwin gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Now return to your quarters. Best you be well rested when Harold arrives tomorrow. Oh and before you go, could you light this candle for me?”

Edwin held out a candlestick, and Lucas felt his stomach drop. His magic had been fighting off exhaustion and injury for months, and gathering enough for even a tiny flame was excruciating. Edwin knew that, and Lucas knew that objecting wasn’t an option. The only way out was through.

Lucas held out his hand and began to channel his magic, the leylines on his arm barely glowing with how little energy there was to move through them. It felt like he was pushing stones through his veins, and after a solid minute of effort a small flame barely large enough to be seen manifested. He held the flame out towards the wick and waited for it to ignite. For a few terrifying moments it seemed like the flame might be too weak to light the candle, but to Lucas’ eternal relief the wick caught fire and the candle was lit. 

“Thank you Lucas, you are dismissed.”

Lucas nodded, lacking the energy to speak, and turned to leave the office. He was halfway to the door when he heard Edwin speak up again.

“Oh Lucas.” The mage turned and watched with a sense of utter hopelessness as Edwin casually blew out the candle. “It appears that the  candle has gone out, relight it for me would you?”

Lucas dragged himself back to the desk and began channeling his magic again. He gathered every last dreg of magic he could muster and forced them into his fingers. Black spots danced in his eyes and blood trickled from his nostrils as he willed another flame into existence. He lit the candle again and his arm dropped like a lead weight. 

“Thank you Lucas, return to your quarters.”

The walk back was a slow, agonizing ordeal of sheer willpower. Every step made his legs shudder, every breath sent sharp pains through his chest. A sudden coughing fit assaulted him and he doubled over, more blood streaming down his face and out of his mouth. He was an inch away from collapsing on the floor where he stood, but he had been told to return to his quarters and so that is what he did.

At least he made it to his “quarters”. A cramped room with a single wooden slab attached to the wall with old iron chains that served as a bed. He stood in front of the makeshift bed, wanting more than anything to just let himself fall onto it and embrace the mercy of unconsciousness, but he stopped himself. He had only been told to return to the room, sleep had not been allowed yet. So he waited, swaying on shuddering legs as the room span and his vision darkened. In the distance he heard footsteps, slow and methodical. It took an eternity for Edwin to finally appear in the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back. 

Edwin stood there for a while, simply staring at Lucas in that infuriatingly impassive way. Lucas didn’t turn , he couldn’t. The slightest movement would push him past the edge of his endurance. 

“Very good Lucas. You have learned well. You may rest now.”

He didn’t even feel himself hit the floor. 

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Lucas woke up to a sharp kick in the stomach. He looked up, blinking blearly to see the face of Harold looming over him. Lucas’ eyes widened, and he clumsily pulled himself off the floor. He was still exhausted, however much sleep he got not being nearly enough to make him feel anywhere close to rested. 

Harold looked Lucas over, before delivering a crushing backhand that sent the mage sprawling back to the floor. Lucas looked up fearfully at his master, curling in on himself and waiting for the next blow.

“It's been a while you little rat. You know I never got back at you for trying to run but…” he trailed for a moment, “looks like Edwin’s already put you through hell and then some.”

Lucas meekly nodded and stood back up, still wary of another sudden strike. It never comes, and the duo find themselves standing somewhat awkwardly in the room. Whatever tension was building is cut when Edwin enters the room, pulling Harold into a warm handshake. 

“Harold. I had just been informed you had arrived. Sorry I couldn’t greet you myself, paperwork is still a killer.”

Harold offers a hearty laugh and claps Edwin on the shoulder. “It is no issue, captain. I was just admiring your work.” He turns to face Lucas. “I don’t know what you did to the little shit but he sure does seem a lot more...docile. No that he was much trouble beforehand.”

“Yes, I must say he might be my finest work yet. You shouldn’t experience any more resistance from him.” Edwin turned to leave before pausing and turning back. “Ah, almost forgot to mention. His time here has put considerable strain on his magic and he will likely be unable to perform any feats worthy of a show for a long time. I know that's what you intend to use him for so I thought I would give fair warning.”

Harold raised an eyebrow. “Oh really, well I suppose that shouldn’t be an issue.” he grabbed Lucas’ arm, running his thumb over one of the dull red lines that covered the mage’s arms and looking down with a lecherous grin. “Magic or no he is still a mage, and there are other ways to make a profit off of such an...exotic little creature.”

Lucas felt a wave of revulsion. He wanted to pull away, to cover every inch of his body and disappear into the floor. He didn’t dare act on those desires however, and simply stood there fighting back the urge to be sick. Harold mercifully let him go and exited the room, signalling for Lucas to follow. As Lucas left Edwin gave him a wave goodbye.

“Farewell Lucas. Hopefully the next time we meet will be under far more pleasant circumstances.”

Lucas very fervently hoped they never met again at all. 

Upon leaving the stronghold Lucas was met with blinding light and deafening noise as his body adjusted to the outside world after months of darkness and near silence. Harold laughed at his discomfort and roughly pushed him forward. Their trek towards Harold’s cart and the caravan was brief, the stronghold being closer to the outskirts of the city than Lucas would have thought. 

Devran was waiting for them when they arrived. Upon seeing Lucas we walked up to the mage and promptly slammed his fist into Lucas’ stomach. Lucas doubled over in pain and fell to his knees, clutching his abdomen and suppressing a gag. 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the rat. Not gonna lie, I missed you.” Devran said, punctuating his sentence with a kick to Lucas’ face. As Lucas tried to pick himself up he felt a boot on the back of his head, and his face was harshly pushed down into a pool of mud on the ground. His attempts to push himself up were foiled by the boot on his head and the terrifyingly familiar sensation of drowning returned to him. After a minute the pressure was let up and Lucas flung himself backwards, gasping and spitting mud out of his mouth.

“Hahahahahaha, still as fun as ever. We’ve got a lot of time to make up for, rat, I look forward to it.”

Lucas could only whimper before being pulled to his feet by Harold. He felt a familiar wight on his wrists and looked down to see his old shackles secured around his wrists yet again, his skin already beginning to chafe. 

“Edwin says you won’t be any trouble, and I believe him, but it never hurts to be safe.” 

The shackles were secured to the back of the cart and Lucas felt a sense of familiarity. It was almost comforting. He knew how to handle this, knew how to survive this. It wasn’t any worse than what he had endured. Whatever was to come, it couldn’t be worse than what he had endured.

The caravan started moving and Lucas trudged behind the cart, head hanging low in fatigue. He noticed offhandedly that the caravan seemed smaller than he remembered, not that it really mattered to him. He didn’t know how long the day’s trek would be but he knew he wouldn’t be offered any mercy from Harold or Devran. All he could do was keep himself upright and try not to let himself be dragged across the ground. 

The caravan stopped around midday, allowing the horses to rest and the various members to eat and water themselves. They had stopped in a hilly field near a forest, the uneven terrain had been brutal of Lucas’ poor feet. He was considering whether it was worth the risk asking Harold if he could sit down when an alarmed cry pierced the air. 

Lucas turned and saw a large group of men in makeshift armor and wielding crude weapons charging across the hills. Bandits, lots of then. They were too close to the caravan for escape to be possible, and everyone scrambled to defend themselves. The guards that had been hired rushed forwards to meet the bandits head on, while the hands and merchants grabbed makeshift weapons and huddled close to their carts. Whatever trepidations Lucas had about acting without orders were replaced with a primal fear, and he dropped to the ground and crawled underneath the cart. From there he cowered and watched.

He watched as the guards were overpowered and slaughtered, the only hope of driving the bandits off vanishing into the air. He watched as the bandits descended on the caravan like wolves, effortlessly cutting down anyone in their way. He watched Harold’s body crumple to the ground, a thick crossbow bolt embedded in his throat. He watched Devran desperately fight one of the assailants, his club swinging in slow clumsy arcs before his opponent stabbed him through the stomach with a sword, twisting the blade and pulling it out with a spurt of blood.

Lucas stared at the bodies of the men who had tormented him for years. He held no love for them, but their faces, frozen in fear with lifeless eyes burned themselves into his mind. He couldn't move, couldn’t breathe, all he could do was pray to whatever gods were listening that he wouldn’t be found.

His prayers would go unanswered as soon enough one of the bandits dragged him out from under the cart. The bandit, a broad man wielding a large mace stared down at him curiously, before his eyes spied the red lines on Lucas’ arms.

“Hey lads! Lookie here, we got ourselves one of those mage things.”

A few of the other brigands walked over, surrounding Lucas and looking down at him with looks ranging from curiosity to utter disgust. He curled in on himself, trying to shrink away as best he could.

“What should we do with it” one of the bandits asked nonchalantly. 

An argument broke out amongst the group. Some said they should bring him with them and sell him, others said they could find a use for him themselves. One very fervently argue that he should be strung up and killed, repeating over and over that “the only good mage is one that’s dead and fucking gone.”

Lucas cowered beneath them, trying to tune out their words. Their argument was cut short by a loud, barbaric yawp that cut through the air and drew their attention. Three emerged from the forest on the other side of the caravan, weapons in hand and charging the bandits. The bandits in kind charged to meet them, giving Lucas another chance to hide away underneath the cart. He watched the bandits as the newcomers clashed, but this time it was the bandits who found themselves outmatched. 

Lucas stared at the scene in front of him. One of the newcomers, a tall man with tan skin and wearing strange looking armor effortlessly fought off three of the bandits at once. He laughed and taunted them in a language Lucas did not recognize, his long curved sword deflecting blow after blow with ease. The man weaved his way through the group of brigands, his movements almost dance like as he gracefully cut down his opponents one by one. 

A guttural roar drew Lucas’ attention, and he stared in awe and terror as a muscular woman with a half shaved head brought a large glaive down onto the head of an armored brigand. The blade cleaved through the brigand’s helmet like butter, cleaving the man in two all the way down to his sternum before becoming lodged. The woman let out a bark of laughter, grabbing the neck of an approaching bandit and snapping it with her left hand while she pulled her weapon free with her right. 

The last of the newcomers stood on the peripheries of the battle, picking off bandits one by one with the longbow in his hands. Every arrow he fired found their mark and the man almost looked bored, his posture lax and his weapon hanging loosely from his fingertips. One of the bandits managed to close the distance. The man ducked the bandit’s swing and rolled behind him, drawing a dagger and slashing the back of the bandit’s knee. A quick stab through the armpit and a slash across the throat finished the bandit, and the archer pushed away the body like one would push in a chair. 

There had been more than two dozen bandits that had attacked the caravan. The three figures standing in the middle of the road had dispatched them all in a matter of minutes. Lucas stayed under the cart, frozen in place. Whoever these people were they were dangerous, and clearly had no qualms about killing.

What would they do to him if, no, when they found him?

“Looks like we’re too late,” the archer said, slinging his bow over his back. “I don’t think there are any survivors.”

The tanned man pulled off his helmet and hung it on his hip, revealing an aged and clean shaven face. “Perhaps. We should still check, maybe someone made it.” The man spoke with a thick accent. “I’ll check the hills, you check by the carts.”

The woman snorted and rested her glaive on her shoulder. “You lot have fun with that, I’m gonna go see if there's anything worth looting.”

The group split up, and Lucas watched as the archer patrolled around the caravan checking the carts for any survivors. Lucas’ breathing grew shallow and panicked as the archer approached Harold’s cart. Each step sending a wave of ear down Lucas’ spine. When the man’s legs stopped in front of where Lucas was hiding he clasped his hands over his mouth and screwed his eyes shut, holding his breath. Maybe he wouldn’t check underneath, maybe he would just-

“Well I’ll be.”

Lucas’ eyes shot open to see the archer kneeling on the ground, his body cocked sideways so he could look underneath the cart. They stared at each other for a few seconds, Lucas heart beating in his ears. The man straightened back up and called out to his companions.

“HEY! I have a live one over here!” He leaned sideways again, looking at Lucas and holding up his hands in a disarming gesture. “Hey kid, name’s William. Don’t worry I’m not gonna hurt ya. Why don't you come on out of there so i can get a better look at ya eh?”

Lucas didn’t want to come out. He wanted to curl up in a ball and wait until these people left. But he had been given an order, and orders were to be obeyed. Maybe if he was obedient and docile they wouldn’t hurt him. He crawled out from under the cart, taking William’s hand and allowing himself to be pulled up. 

“There we go, what's your name lad?”

“Lucas, sir. My name is Lucas.”

William nodded and started looking Lucas over. “Well Lucas are you…” He trailed off as he saw the leylines on Lucas’ arms. “Fuck.”

“I see someone did survive. That is good news.” The tanned man said as he approached Lucas and William. “Is everything alright William?”

“Oh hey, Mehrzad, take a look at this.”

“At...oh.” The man, Mehrzad, looked up and down Lucas’ arms, his eyes trailing the red lines. “Sand and stars, a mage.”

Lucas shrunk under their scrutiny. He couldn’t exactly hide it but people knowing he was a mage was never a good thing. Maybe these people would be more tolerant than most. Lucas wasn’t feeling optimistic. 

“What is your name, mage?” Mehrzad asked.

“Lucas, sir.” 

Mehrzad nodded, turning to William. They shared a look for a few moments, communicating in some unspoken way that Lucas couldn’t decipher. After a bit William pulled out a thin sharp metal object and his dagger. Lucas flinched back, causing the man to hold up his hands and take a step back.

“Hey kid, it's ok. Just a lock pick. Going to see if I can get you out of those chains there.” He gestured to Lucas’ shackles. “That ok with you?”

Lucas nodded and held out his wrists, still wary of some sort of trick. William approached slowly, making sure his hands were always in view before working on the lock. The lock clicked open and the shackles fell to the floor with a dull thud. Lucas rubbed his wrists, and offered a quick thanks. As he did the women joined them, digging a finger into a jar of honey.

“Not much on any of the bodies but that cart close to the front has a lot of food we could pilfer.” She scooped another handful of honey into her mouth before spying Lucas and raising an eyebrow. “Who’s that?”

William grabbed the jar of honey before responding. “This here is Lucas, Lucas this is Bernadetta.” He popped a finger covered in honey into his mouth and let out a small hum of approval. “Quality stuff here, good for the company. We should send some temps to pick through that cart.” 

Lucas watched their exchange in silence, thankful that their attention wasn’t focused on him. Suddenly his vision began to swim, and his limbs felt like they were made of lead. The adrenaline from the attack had worked its way out of his system, and hunger, exhaustion, and his still unhealed injuries finally pushed his magic beyond what it could sustain. He collapsed to the ground, William only barely catching his head before it slammed into the earth.

“Shit, kid must have been worse off than I thought. We need to get him back to camp.”

Mehrzad nodded, picking up Lucas and carrying him bridal style. “Agreed, we can worry about looting later.” He looked down at Lucas, offering a comforting smile. “Do not worry Lucas, my husband is the finest surgeon these lands have known. You will be fine.”

Bernadetta huffed. “Bringing a mage to camp, Konrad won’t be happy.”

“Perhaps, but Konrad is not here and we will deal with him if he makes a fuss. Lucas needs help, I intend to help him.”

The group made their way into the forest, Lucas fading slowly into unconsciousness. He didn’t know what would happen to him, and frankly he didn’t care. Whatever these people had planned, Lucas was sure of one thing. 

It couldn't be worse than what he had endured.

Tags: @haro-whumps @ladygwennn @dramaticcollapse @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @brutal-nemesis @rippedjeansandfadeddreams

[centipedall]

Bored Meetings

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon, sometime in July. I was in my cubicle, silently crunching numbers and desperately wishing that I could get home to my wife. She had the day off- some kind of water problem at her work, I think- and so she was probably watching TV or playing video games or going for walks. I wanted to be back with her so badly, to enjoy this beautiful summer day and live our lives. Unfortunately, I was stuck in this stuffy office, running numbers for some company that does god-knows-what, trying to use the bathroom as much as possible so that I could do as little as possible.

I had just gotten ready to go on one of these superfluous bathroom breaks when my boss knocked on my cubicle. I jumped, looking at him and trying to seem busy. “Ah, Mr. Percy! What, uh, what do you need?”

He looked away from me as he spoke, “Mr. Thomas. The board wants to see you. Please go to the thirty-first floor and speak to the secretary. I believe she has the information you need.” He started to walk away, then paused and turned. “I’m sorry.” He said before trudging away.

I had paled at the mention of the board. They were every office worker’s worst nightmare. Every month or so, they invited a couple people up to perform “surprise presentations” for them. I had heard horror stories about the board- that people would slip up once and get demoted almost instantly. Or worse.

I couldn’t handle a demotion. We had just bought the new house and- ugh, it would screw everything up. I needed to do this perfectly. I gathered up my pencils and a good amount of paper and walked out the office to the elevator. Roughly half of my coworkers avoided looking at me during my walk of shame, and the other half were an even mix between fake smiles of support and pure fear and grief. I got in the elevator, pushed the button, and went up about twenty floors.

The thirty-first floor was essentially a large hallway. It had a tiled linoleum floor with a simple blue carpet in the middle, leading up to a small brown door. Beside it was a desk built into the wall, where a woman sat reading a magazine. She had large, horn-rimmed glasses and short, heavily styled brown hair. The woman wore a pink sweater that said “Secretary” on it in big sparkly letters.

I timidly walked up to her. She didn’t look up from her magazine until I coughed, at which point she gave me what was quite possibly the most condescending glare in the world. I wilted, but to be fair, a redwood would have wilted under that. “I believe the board wants to see me?”

She put her magazine down, opened her mouth, and pure liquid venom dripped out of it. It took me a second to work past the pure hate and realize what she was saying. “Mr. Thomas, correct? I have you down to enter in an hour. You will be reporting on your work performance over these past two months. Please wait on a bench, and do not waste any more of my time.”

I nodded and then sat down on the bench. About fifteen minutes in, another guy sat down next to me. His hair was slicked back, and his face was vaguely handsome. He wore an expensive suit, with an expensive watch, and expensive shoes. The guy fidgeted for a little bit, then looked at me and offered a handshake.

“Gabe Joseph. I work on the twenty-fifth floor. I’m a major executive. From the new merger. I’m pretty confident- this is gonna be a cinch. Just gonna blast through my standard presentation- turn on the charm and lie.”

“I- uh, I don’t think that’s gonna work. I heard really scary stories about them.” I paused, then realized how rude I was being. “I’m Carl, by the way. Carl Thomas. I work in accounting on floor eleven. I’m obviously not as important as you. So I’m gonna keep working on my thing. Sorry.” I looked back down at the paper I was writing on. It had a basic script for my presentation- what I’d been doing the past few months and why I was important to the company. Fortunately, I was allowed to read off of it- at least from what I’ve heard.

He scoffed. “Whatever, man. You’re probably gonna freak out and barf. Screw up your presentation instantly.” He looked away and muttered, “Idiot.”

I didn’t look back at him. It wasn’t worth my time. Instead, I finished my script, memorized it, and then looked around the room. The ceiling was high. Weirdly high. It went up at least two more stories. The walls were strangely patterned too- it reminded me of waves, or fish swimming through them. But the walls were plain. Like completely plain- just beige. I looked back down at the floor- I had a headache all of a sudden. And the meeting was in three minutes.

I stood up, my joints cracking, and moved my body a little. Got the blood flowing. My head still hurt a little bit, but it was time. I went over my presentation one last time, looked back at the napping Gabe, and then opened the door and walked into the boardroom.

It was dark, and large- huge, even. The size of a warehouse. It smelled like salt- or tasted like salt? I couldn’t tell the difference. There was also a distinct odor of fish and wet wood. The whole place was humid like a rainforest, the almost liquid air weighing heavily on my cheap suit. It was weirdly cold, though. Enough that it felt like the water should have frozen. Behind me was a damp concrete wall, and in front of me was a simple wooden stool in a spotlight. The stool and what was on it were the only two things in the massive room. On the stool was a water-warped plank of wood, roughly two and a half feet long. It had a pair of googly eyes on the front. The fake plastic pupils were looking down at the soaking carpet-covered floor, but I could still feel something staring at me. The Board was eager.

I pulled the papers out of my pocket and started my presentation, reading from the script. “I- hello, ladies and, uh, gentlemen. Of the board. My name is Carl Thomas. I’m an accountant on the eleventh floor. Over the last fiscal quarter, I’ve primarily been responsible for streamlining the budget of my department, the Yogurt Division.” I worked for a food company? “As you can see, we’ve outpaced the Steel Division-” What? That can’t be right. “-the Steel Division. By eighty percent. I believe that is primarily because of me. As you can see by my graph here-” I pulled out a paper I’d drawn on, “-since I joined, our profits have increased. My boss, Mr. Percy, has given me professional compliments, as can be seen when you request my HR reports.You can also ask my coworkers, and they will report that I have not only been a boon to our company, but I have also been kind, helpful, and friendly in our interactions.” Alright, time for the finisher. “I truly believe that I am one of the most effective workers on the eleventh floor. I am not only beneficial to this company, but to my coworkers. I hope this presentation is informative. Thank you. Are there any questions?” God, please don’t have questions.

The Board had no questions. Instead, I felt a blast of warm, dry air from behind me. That small brown door was behind me. I exited through it, back into the waiting room. I stumbled over to a trash can and vomited. Ugh. When I stood up, I realized how dry my clothes were. Really, the only wetness on my was the film of sweat on my forehead.

Gabe gave me a pat on the back. “Nice one. Told ya you’d barf.” He sauntered past me into the waiting room. Just before the door closed, I heard his opening line. “Hey guys. Listen, we both know how stupid this is, so- wait, what?”

I stood there for another minute recovering. The secretary called janitorial services, probably for my throw-up. I had mostly managed to recover when they arrived. The elevator dinged and two men in ballcaps walked out. I waved at one of them, making a grunt of apology, but they walked right past me. I heard a slamming noise from behind me and I turned.

The brown door was wide open, and Gabe’s body was tossed out of it. He landed on the ground with a thump. His body was swollen, soaking wet, and partially rotten. His eyes, genitals, and clothes were gone, rotted away. His mouth was wide open, and water trickled from it. There were hundreds of small, moving lumps beneath his skin. As the janitors dragged him away, one shifted up to his mouth. The lump disappeared as a small goldfish fell out of his mouth and onto the floor. I watched it flop on the ground until it died. Then I walked into the elevator and back down to my floor.

When I exited the elevator, everyone on my floor looked directly at me. I waited for a second, then gave them a thumbs-up. The room erupted into cheer. I smiled wearily and walked back to my cubicle. Within two minutes, my boss entered.

“Hey, Thomas, congrats on the successful presentation. I bet the Board really liked it! And, uh, as congratulations, I’m letting you go home early. Presenting to those guys really, uh, really takes a lot out of you, huh?” He gave me a fake, but knowing, smile. “I have to do it at least four times a year.” He sighed. I had never felt more empathy for someone than in that moment.

I nodded eagerly. “Thank you, sir. I’ll get out of your hair right now.” I quickly gathered up my things and left work early.

When I got home, my wife was pleasantly surprised. I declined to tell her about the Board- it didn’t feel right, to talk about that outside the Board’s Room. Instead, I told her that my boss had given me the day off because of my performance. We spent the rest of the day together- we went for a lovely walk, somehow managed to perfectly tie in a racing game, and then I whipped up a mean spaghetti for our dinner. We cleaned and watched a little TV, and then she told me about the really cool painting her coworker had made. We went to bed a little early, although we got to sleep a little late. The next day, I got up and went to work in that little two-story building, looking forward to the next day my wife and I would get to spend time together.

[complicatedandstained]

The Other Day  at Hot Topic: The Lion, the Witch, and Marluxia

The Claire’s employees Marluxia had said were looking forward to meeting Xion look like they would much rather be watching beige paint dry. 

They remind her of back-up dancers that just stepped off the set of a punk rock music video, all tall, tat’d, and pierced, with lean muscle, barely concealed by skintight clothes. Blasé attitudes and dead tired. 

Xion had thought that flower crowns and purple aprons would make anybody look approachable, but she had been dead wrong. 

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything,” Xion continues quickly, waving her hands in front of her, “I promise!”

“Of course you didn’t,” the woman says in a falsely sweet voice. Her eyes return to examining her manicure. She’s gorgeous—looks like an Amazon who accidentally got a cute pixie cut. 

The other one doesn’t say much of anything, his eyes flitting out the store altogether like he has better places to be. He looks like a lion turned into a man, clad in metallic gold jeans and sporting a literal mane of untamed scarlet hair. Even his eyes are feline, lined with sharp, neat strokes of black. 

He sighs and slips his phone out of his apron pocket. “Why would she?” he mutters and whether he doesn’t believe Xion either or he’s challenging the Amazon is difficult to tell. 

Xion’s not sure which of them makes her more uncomfortable. She knows deep down she should be giving them the benefit of the doubt. She’s probably going to be spending a lot of time with them. 

They’re probably super nice once you get to know them. 

But it’s a little hard to convince herself when they look so miserable.

Marluxia seems to agree. He clears his throat again.

“So…” The Amazon perks up, running her hand back to adjust her lavender flower crown and giving Xion a once over like an unsatisfied military general picking out imperfections in her uniform. “You’re Kairi 3.0.” 

Xion doesn’t understand what she’s saying, and even if she did, she doesn’t think she can make her mouth do the talking thing. 

The lion man rolls his eyes. One hand lands on the hip of his eye-catching jeans and the other gestures to Xion with his phone. “She means to say that you look a bit like a couple of our coworkers,” Lion corrects in this smooth, almost gratingly lyrical voice.

Xion’s cheeks get so red they could probably glow in the dark. 

Oh. So they think I’m the stereotypical bubble-headed Claire’s employee, is that it? 

That stings a bit. I was hoping being pleasant and liking cute things would be a-okay here...

Having two more of me might be nicer than this. 

Marluxia groans then offers Xion an apologetic smile. “They mean to say it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He levels a hard glare at the pair of them, and it’s mildly reassuring that this at least isn’t the impression he was going for. “Really, you two...” 

He gives both of them another shoulder squeeze, and they scowl in unison. Realizing that they have, they smirk at each other, earlier tension apparently set aside for the time being. 

Marluxia lets them go and nods at Xion, pushing heavy bubble-gum pink hair off his shoulder wearily. “Sorry, darling. I only wish I could say they’re usually better behaved.” 

He can’t be much older than either of them, but his face is the dictionary definition of beleaguered dad, and Xion can’t help but giggle, even if it sounds bell-like and nervous to her own ears. 

Marluxia primly swishes his hand before her like a noble introducing a princess. “Larxene, Axel, I would like you to meet our newest associate, Zion.”

Xion smiles. If she had a dollar for every time someone accidentally called her the kingdom of heaven, she could start some kind of small, hood-wearing cult of her own. “Xion,” she corrects. 

“She-on?” he clarifies with raised eyebrows. 

Seriously, how is it that all of them have such good eyebrows?

Xion nods in encouragement.  

“Xion,” he corrects smoothly, drawing neatly manicured nails out toward the blonde Amazon, “Xion, this is Larxene.”

Larxene gives Xion a quick, businesslike handshake, and a purred, “Charmed, I’m sure,” that Xion can’t tell whether she means to be sarcastic, flirtatious, or just hella scary, but kind of comes off as all three. 

“Pleased to meet you,” Xion says anyway, smiling, telling herself maybe Larxene’s just having a bad day. 

Marluxia clears his throat emphatically again, though Larxene does not look particularly apologetic. Marluxia swishes his fingers toward the lion man. 

“And this is...” Marluxia pauses for the other man to introduce himself.

The lion’s arms are crossed and he doesn’t reach out a hand or even react until Marluxia repeats his name. He texts another few words and lowers his phone, half smiling. “Good news. Demyx says crisis averted.”

Larxene laughs sharply. “And you believe him?”

“Excellent,” Marluxia replies dryly. “Now you can put it away and introduce yourself.”

“Really was a crisis, Mars,” Axel insists, slipping the phone back into his pocket and peering down at Xion like he’s a little surprised to see she’s still there. He nods. “Hey there.”

Maybe he’s...also having a bad day?

“Axel,” Marluxia concludes for him, just a note of irritation, “your name is Axel.” 

The lion’s eyes narrow, his lips quirk. “Thanks for the info, Marly.”

“Axel,” Xion repeats, and she can feel her brows bouncing up. Why does that sound so familiar?

“That’s it,” the lion man—Axel—has a grin like he’s planning to eat somebody. “Get it memorized. You’re gonna need it.”

“She doesn’t need to memorize it,” Larxene objects, poking the little metal name plate clipped to the man’s purple apron. “You’re wearing a nametag, dipshit.”

“Oh,” Axel glances down to confirm, straightens up, “Huh. So I am.” But he’s paying more attention to Xion now, which is not an entirely welcome sensation. His eyes kind of narrow in and burn. 

Marluxia seems anxious to keep the ball rolling, “Axel’s our resident piercing artist. He’s very good at what he does, but he has trouble with the concept of ‘dress code.’” He turns to Xion, nodding at her wardrobe choice in approval. “You may want to think of him as a counter-example. If Axel’s wearing it, you probably shouldn’t be. Today being an exception, although from the sound of it,” he smirks ever-so-slightly, like he can’t help but find nagging Axel a little bit amusing, “that was largely an accident.”

Axel’s tight black tee literally has Let’s Fucking Dance printed across the chest of it in slate gray cursive, but Marluxia doesn’t seem to have noticed, and Xion’s not sure now is the right time to bring it up.

“Yeah, yeah, I scare the children, I’ve heard it before…” Axel’s hands gesture dismissively. Free of his phone he seems livelier. One hand pats Xion’s shoulder. “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that with My Little Care Bear here.” 

That feels a little uncalled for and a lot condescending.

Xion can feel the burn in her cheeks travelling to her ears. He’s officially her least favorite. 

Marluxia adjusts a bending display sign, beside Axel’s shoulder. “I just want her to realize that we do have standards.”

Xion feels a little burnt on Axel’s behalf, but he just smirks lazily. “I hope you’re also going to tell her that Larxene is our customer service counter-example.” 

Sign corrected, Marluxia pockets his hands. “That goes without saying.” 

Larxene doesn’t look up from her manicure. “You’re both assholes.” 

“Case in point,” Marluxia replies glancing around to ensure no customers heard this latest remark and looking relieved to find no one nearby. “Anyway, Xion, one of these fine, upstanding employees has volunteered to train you this morning.”

Xion’s mouth tries to shape an objection, her lips opening and closing like a goldfish. She kind of hoped Marluxia would be taking the reins on this one.

 “Volunteered.” Larxene snorts. “That’s cute.”

Axel tilts his head, sparing Xion another glance, grinning. “Marly, you’re really cracking the whip here.”

“I’m sorry!” Xion says immediately, eyes feeling hot, wishing she could train herself. Her boot scuffs uselessly along the carpet. “I don’t mean to be a burden!”

“Hey, hey,” Axel’s saying before Xion’s even done apologizing, smile evaporating. He steps up to her side, hands spreading in the air as if to physically smooth things over. “Not to worry, Newbie, I’ve got you covered.”

“Really?” Xion blinks up at him, trying not to cringe. 

He elbows her arm, winks at her, stage whispers, “Least until someone nicer arrives.”

“Uh… Thank you, Axel. I’m… I’m sure you’re perfectly nice.”

Axel gives her a brief flash of teeth that it wouldn’t be fair to call a smile. “I’m basically Prince Charming.”

Marluxia gets a little divot between his brows and shakes his head slightly. “Behave.”

“Right, right. So.” Axel steps past Larxene, hopping up into the adult sized chair at the piercing station. He plucks a sharp looking piece of equipment from the depths of his apron pockets. “How squeamish are you?”

Xion takes an involuntary step back. 

“Axel.” Marluxia palms his forehead. “Maybe start with something else?”

“Oh.” Axel glances at Xion, brows bouncing in concern that Xion has trouble believing. “Sure thing, boss.”

Larxene gives Xion a sympathetic grimace and a brief flutter of her fingers. “Good luck with that, 3.0.” She struts off to man the register, where the Christmas shopping mom has wrangled her kids. 

“Right, well, Xion, I’ll clock you in. I’ll be in the back for a bit if you need me.” Marluxia glances down at an elegant wristwatch, and observes, “Aurora should be here to relieve Axel by noon. That is, if she hasn’t overslept again…”

Xion’s not sure if this comment is meant to reassure her, Marluxia, or Axel, so she just hums. 

Axel smirks, says, “Roger that, Captain.” Axel’s tone and the tiny, cheeky salute he pairs with it, feel almost… flirtatious?

Xion blushes. 

Marluxia stiffens for a half second, like he’s second guessing several life choices that have led him to this moment, but then he gives his head another little shake, chuckles, and starts to walk off.

Xion wonders how Roxas would feel to know this mall has so many flirty red heads on the loose. What are the odds? Two doors down and...

Wait… What are the odds?

Axel. His name had sounded so familiar. Axel. 

Axel gives an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Alright, he’s gone. Just got to check on somebody…” He’s already spinning in the piercing seat, phone set on the table, so Xion doesn’t feel too bad slipping hers out as well. Scrolling through the notifications from the contact nicknamed “Twin” and skimming until she finds the right messages, hoping to read another name typed there instead. 

The three(!) text messages about one man. Apart from calling him ‘ridiculously attractive’, they hadn’t even been that romantic. But there had been three(!) of them. From Roxas. Roxas who never wants to talk about boys, never gets crushes—I basically don’t have a heart, I didn’t even love my ex, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong—Roxas. 

But. There it is. Plain as day.

Axel. Axel. Axel.

[elounorfluff-blog]

Talk to Me (Part One)

A/N: So I have officially given up on trying to finish this in one go. It would be a month of writer’s block most likely. So I have decided to post it in two parts. If you have ANY funny/cute ideas of ways they might try to make each other talk, DM me! Also important note: keep in mind this would be around 2013/14 before El was the ‘queen of crop tops’. 

Thanks and hope you like it :)

“Do you two know how to shut your mouths?” Harry screamed, suddenly turning every head in the room and ceasing Eleanor and Louis’ sarcastic debate of the day.

Eleanor gathered her senses. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

Harry took two steps towards her, his words slow and deliberate “I said, do you know how to shut up? Close your mouth? Not speak?”

“Are you talking about me or him?” El gestured to her defensive looking boyfriend. “Because he is the problem, not me. He’s the one who starts these things.”

Louis gaped at her, “I most certainly am not, you are the one always going on about-”

“Stop!” Harry returned to shouting. “Just stop! I bet you two couldn’t go a whole day without talking to each other. Arguing, Flirting, and everything in between. There’s never any peace around here anymore.” That wasn’t exactly true, El and Louis just hadn’t been together in a while, so they were making up for lost time with extra arguing and flirting over the past few days.

Liam chimed in from the couch after a moment of tense silence, “What does the winner get?”

“The winner of what?”, Louis asked. All of them looked confused now.

“Well Harry said a whole day without talking to each other, so clearly it’s a competition, something you two love, so whoever talks to the other first, loses. What does the winner get?”

Eleanor and Louis thought for a moment, or El did at least. “She already knows what I want,” Louis smirked.

El rolled her eyes, “Have I mentioned you are an insatiable little shit today?”

Harry laughed, and Liam covered his mouth to keep from doing so.

“I don’t know what insatiable means, but probably. Have I mentioned you’re an annoying know-it-all today?” He smiled sarcastically.

Zayn was paying attention from a bean bag on the other side of the room now, “Lou, it just means you really like sex, dude.”

“This is going to be easier than I thought”, El crossed her arms and put her hip out defiantly. “Fine, I’ll participate. But next time we go out, I get to pick something out and you have to get it for me. Within reason.”

Louis was a bit baffled by her answer. He usually bought her what she wanted anyway, which wasn’t much, but he was excited to beat her, which he was quite confident he could do without much effort.

“Alright then.” Harry smiled but looked exasperated. “From 9 AM tomorrow morning until 9 PM, you two can talk to anyone but each other. First person to talk to the other within the time frame loses. If you both make it, somehow, I will personally pay for all of us to go on a fucking cruise. That’s how confident I am that this will fail.”

“Deal.” Louis shook Harry’s hand. Eleanor eyed them looking for a downside, but eventually offered up her own handshake.

“Deal.” She agreed. She had no idea what she was in for.

Eleanor stood in the hallway of the hotel, arms wrapped around her boyfriend’s neck as she kissed him goodnight. “You better tell me you love me tonight, because tomorrow you have to go a whole day without saying it”, he jokingly informed her, hands on her waist.

“Mmm. How will I ever survive?” She grinned at him, sliding her hands down his arms and leaning back to look at him. “You’re going down, Tommo”, She announced to him confidently.

Louis took her hands and spun her while she squealed in delight, landing so her back was against him and his head rested on her shoulder, he moved his chin slightly and spoke softly into her ear, “We’ll see about that Calder, I have a habit of making you say lots of things.”

Eleanor turned her head back and raised an eyebrow at his suggestive comment. “Guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” She kissed him again quickly, “Okay, okay, I have to go.” She disentangled herself from him and he frowned.

“Go where?” Louis questioned her, fully intending to spend the whole night with her.

“To my own hotel room. And you are sleeping in yours or on the bus. I’m not dumb enough to wake up in your room. I know you Louis Tomlinson and you would turn off my alarm and wait until after nine to scare me awake to get me to talk.”, she informed him pointedly, crossing her arms.

“…I wasn’t necessarily going to scare you to get you to talk”, he defended, grinning.

Eleanor let her head fall back as she sighed, “Oh, bloody hell. You’re impossible, Boo. You aren’t going to be able to trick me with the allure of sex, especially not before the bet ‘as even started. And when I win, I’m going to ask for a way more interesting prize.” She started walking down the hall, but Louis quickly turned and blocked her.

“I’m sorry, when you win? You just know you’re going to win?”

El was actually pretty confident that she could pull this off, but she humored him anyway. “Fine. If I win. So better bring you’re A-game Tomlinson.” She stepped around him and turned back, “Goodnight Louis.”

“Wait!” He almost shouted. She raised her eyebrows in frustration, shaking her head, when he reached his arms out, wiggling his fingers until she surrendered and hugged him. “I looove you.” He told her emphatically to make her smile.

Eleanor breathed in the comfort of her boyfriend’s sweatshirt, “Love you too, Baby.” She felt him kiss her forehead and then tilted her chin up to press his lips to hers. “Ok, I actually ‘ave to sleep now.” She pulled away from him.

“Night, Love.” He winked at her as they turned in opposite directions.

Louis had decided by morning that he did not favor sleeping without Eleanor when he knew she was down the hall. It was strangely discomforting. The boys got up early and ate breakfast before heading out to the huge venue they were playing that weekend. They didn’t have a concert tonight, but since they did the following two days, they had to go do soundchecks and figure out the stage among other things. Plus, they had been promised the following morning off if they got this mess over with today.

El woke up in the same room as Sophia around nine. “Soph”, she attempted to ask her passed out friend a question. “Sophia!”

The other girl groaned and rolled over, “What?”

“Where are the guys at today?”

Sophia sat up, “The…stage place…whatever it’s called”, she replied wearily, “Why do you care, I thought you were avoiding him.”

El raised an eyebrow at her, “Avoiding him? How am I supposed to get him to break if I’m not there for him to talk to me?”

Soph laughed then, “And just how are you planning on catching Louis Tomlinson, of all people, off guard?”

“You don’t think I can win the bet?” El questioned her.

Sophia was quiet for a minute. “It’s not that you couldn’t win, per say…. but if we were gambling, I might, possibly, bet on someone else in the chances of increasing my cash flow…”

El crossed her arms from where she was sitting on the end of her bed, “So basically, what you’re saying, is that not only did everyone else place actual money on this but that you bet your own personal money on Louis winning and me losing?”

“Well it sounds rude when you put it like that!” Sophia threw her hands up, but El just laughed at the interesting circumstances.

“Okay fine, you didn’t bet on me, but as my best friend, you are bloody obligated to tell me who did, at least.”

Sophia chewed on her lip, “…Harry…and Zayn.”

“Well, those odds aren’t too bad. Maybe they’ll give me proper help.” She smirked at her friend as she grabbed her clothes for the day. She looked at the dress she had picked out and second-guessed the cutesy flower pattern, stuffing the dress back in her luggage and grabbing cutoff shorts. Unfortunately, all the shirts she had packed seemed to scream modesty, which was not a look she felt like would help her today. “Hey Soph, where’s the black and white crop top you got at Anthropologie the other day?”

Sophia raised an eyebrow at her, “The one with the flowers? Why are you looking for that?”

“No reason…. just wondering if I could borrow it.” Eleanor tried not to make a big deal of it.

“For what? It barely covers anything and it’s not exactly warm out. You’re already wearing the shortest pair of shorts you brought with ya- ohhh.” Realization hit Sophia as she grasped El’s motive for wanting to borrow her top. “Nope. No way girl. If you’re going to be sexy, you ‘ave to do it right. Hold on.” Sophia came over to the closet with her and started going through her luggage. El tended to dress more on the modest side, partly out of necessity for comfort, although she always managed to look adorable while doing it.

“How exactly do I ‘do it right’, then?” Eleanor asked, rolling her eyes.

“It means you still look like you, rather than me…Actually, you should really look more like whatever Louis loves, if your goal is to get him to talk.” She was still throwing things from El’s suitcase aside.

“He likes it when I wear his T-shirts…but I only have one of those and I wouldn’t say a t-shirt is really the look I’m going for.” El sat on the edge of the bed.

“Which shirt?”

“Just a black Adidas one.”

Sophia smiled at her devilishly. “Hand it over, Love.”

El’s eyes widened as she answered her friend, “What? Why? What are you going to do?”

“Never mind I found it in here.” Sophia grabbed the t-shirt from the bottom of El’s bag.

“Sophia!” She was starting to worry now.

“You should probably switch to skinny jeans, it’s kind of chilly out.” Soph ignored her grabbing a pair of scissors.

“Oh no.” El looked at the scissors.

“Oh yes.” Sophia grinned.

Twenty minutes later, El had on her favorite ripped skinny jeans, black ankle boots, and an Adidas T-shirt…minus the bottom half. She had piled all her hair up in a messy bun and done her makeup quickly before Sophia was grabbing her by the arm to catch their car outside to the stadium.

The boys were running through the stage setup when El and Soph arrived. They came in through the side entrance, quietly watching the boys finish what they were doing before walking onto the stage. El put a finger to her lips as she caught Harry’s eye. Liam and Louis’ back were still turned away from her and Soph. Harry winked at her. Allies were always important.

Louis set his water bottle down, “Okay what if we changed the third song to- ohmygod there is a person on me!” He shouted as he turned to find El smiling from where she had jumped on his back. “Liam! Come remove this parasite!” Liam burst out laughing as Sophia stepped in his path.

“Hi, Love.” Despite betting on Louis’ side, Soph was still helping her best friend out. “Can I borrow you for a moment?”

“I think Louis needs me first…” Liam trailed off.

“Nonsense, Tommo’s fine!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of the dressing rooms.

Louis rolled his eyes, “Well that worked out well…Harry, a little help here?” He clearly had no idea that everyone had bet on them, El realized. She smiled feeling like this gave her a distinct advantage.

Harry leaned against a table and crossed his arms, “Course, Lou…. El did you need help getting down?” He asked her, and Louis’ jaw dropped at his support of El instead of him.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, think I’ll actually get down myself.” She smiled and hopped back off her boyfriend’s back, walking to stand by Harry while Louis regained his composure, which he promptly lost all over again when he saw her outfit.

Niall appeared from backstage where he had been up until that point. “Hey El, nice shirt, matches Louis’ black one!” He genuinely complimented her, and Harry covered his mouth as he burst out laughing. He had figured out fairly quickly exactly what her t-shirt was.

Louis threw his hands up in frustration, “Zayn, remind me not to loan my things to anyone in the future”, he said to the only band member who had yet to comment.

“I don’t know…”, He looked up and down at El, “Personally I think it looks better like that.”

“Keep your eyes to yourself!” Louis told him emphatically as he huffed off the stage to his dressing room.

“Nice one, El!” Harry double high fived her as soon as Louis was gone. “How did you know I would back you up?”

“Soph spills everything. She’s actually where I got this lovely outfit despite her loyalties lying elsewhere apparently. You think someone is your best friend until they bet on your boyfriend instead of you”, She told them laughing.

Zayn wandered over, “You better not let us down, Calder”, he jokingly told her.

El inhaled, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Meanwhile, Louis banged on the door to Liam’s dressing room. He opened it reluctantly, clearly having been involved in something with Sophia. “Can I help you, mate?”

Louis opened the door the rest of the way. “You.” He looked at Sophia who smiled innocently, despite the strap of her tank top hanging off her shoulder. “You helped her and I know it, she doesn’t do stuff like that on her own! Cutting up shirts and all that.”

Sophia looked like she was contemplating something deeply, “I can neither confirm or deny that I was involved”, she stated firmly. “Not that it would matter, we’re all allowed to help whoever we want. In the end, it’s just you two who can’t talk to each other that decides who gets the money.”

Louis froze. “What money?” He asked, and Liam turned to glare at Sophia. “Oh my God. You guys bet on us! Spill it Soph, who’s on my side. I know you told El.”

Sophia looked from Lou to her boyfriend, “Fine”, She conceded. “Me, Liam and Niall bet on you. Zayn and Harry bet on El.”

“How much?” Louis asked, knowing it would affect how much they were involved.

“Nope, not telling. El doesn’t know either.” She stood up, “Speaking of, I better go find my girl.” She smirked and left the room.

Louis looked to Liam, “How do I get her to talk? She’s better at this than I thought.”

Liam pondered the question, “I’m sure if you be yourself long enough, she’ll say something.” Louis did not look amused. “Alright, fine. Have you got a story that she doesn’t necessarily want the whole world to hear but she wouldn’t kill you if it got out?”

Louis thought about it for a moment. “I think I have just the thing.”

They talked over their plan and eventually joined the rest of the group for lunch at a cafe. Lou hugged El from behind and kissed her cheek, trying everything to see if she would slip up. She was one step ahead of him on that one as she pulled his arms tighter around her bare waist and grinned. Louis frowned and let her go, sitting down on the other side of the table.

“So how’s our favorite couple?” Harry asked chuckling.

“You mean Beyoncé and Jay-Z?” El asked politely as she opened her water.

“I’m pretty sure he meant you and Louis, Eleanor”, Liam was clearly involved in things now. Shit, Eleanor thought to herself. Louis must have figured out the bets and teams.

“Louis and I? Well, I can’t speak for him, but I’m doing fine”, she skirted around the question.

Louis smirked and pretended he hadn’t heard Eleanor answer. “We’re doing great actually. You know just the other day we were at that giant hotel in Italy and you know I always stay on the tour bus, unless El is here with me, for the experience and so on. Well, you wouldn’t believe what we did.”

He saw Eleanor’s eyes widen as she realized what he was talking about. She glared at him. Two could play at this game.

Part two coming...soon?

[boomtown-adventures]

Boomtown: Chapter 9 - Behind the Mask

This is a journal of my adventures at the festival called Boomtown Fair; a record of the encounters I have had with the wonderful street theatre team at the festival which is all part of the underlying narrative of Boomtown. This is one of the many things that make the festival so special.

I was hoping to get this finished back in October but unfortunately ended up in hospital with a virus in my brain. It’s taken me quite a lot to be able to think clearly and write again. I fear some of the adventure is a bit blurry to me now but thankfully I made substantial notes including some recordings that I made onto my dictaphone so hopefully it’s reasonably accurate. Sorry for this being super long but a lot of stuff happened! Anyway, let’s get on with the story!

Previously at Boomtown Fair….

And now the continuation….

(*intro comic from Boomtown Fair Programme)

After a year in hiding following the fall of the regime, I returned once more to Boomtown for the annual fair. The effect of the loss of Central Administration was still very much palpable as we arrived at the city gates. Clamp downs by both the police and Bang-Hai Security coupled with the fair's popularity meant that our arrival was an ordeal to say the least. This  was not something that could not deter me or even any of the other loyal citizens of Boomtown however. People were returning to the town en masse under Bang-Hai Industries’ promise of a safer city.

Darkness had long since fallen as I wearily moved into my new home in Mayfair just off the Hippy Highway, halfway between the hospital and the Paris Heights Hotel. Mayfair had been the last remaining bastion of our regime during the revolution. Nowadays however the neighbourhood was apparently under the corporate influence of Bang-Hai Industries (BHi). My new carefully chosen digs came with one of the best views in the entire city and it’s very own picket fenced front yard. The view from the front porch stretched all the way out across Downtown, with the brand new Bang-Hai Towers lit up and dominating the skyline. As I settled down for the night I marveled at the sight and lay down to dream of what would await me in the morning as I explored the sights and sounds of what BHi had brought with them.

Friday

I awoke on the Friday morning still feeling the great tiredness from the past few weeks of hard graft which had helped pay for my journey back to Boomtown. I freshened up, having still been in a state from the grueling journey here and headed over to Trenchtown, grabbing a large coconut smoothie along the way.

I settled down on the grass slopes in time to watch Toots & the Maytals open the 2018 Fair at the Lion’s Den Temple. This performance would include one of three renditions of Monkey Man that I would witness performed across the weekend. It was a great and energetic start to the weekend and already the hassles of the day before began to float away on the wind.

As the audience broke into its final applause I sat on the side of the hill watching the crowds and pondered the situation, I was back in Boomtown but I needed direction. Without a Central Administration or military and with our glorious leader Comrade José missing I found myself without place or position. During a quick scout on the way over to Trenchtown it had seemed there was no sign of Charlie Brown’s mob to be reunited with either. The Job Centre was offering a whole range of positions but was now under corporate ownership of Bang-Hai Industries. Bang-Hai claimed that they wanted to help us become the best versions of ourselves we could be. Their true intentions seemed unclear however as there seemed to be much more to it than they were letting on. With one breath they seemed to embrace the revolution but in the next they claimed  the Masked Man had now abandoned us and that they were the only people we could now rely on. Were they part of the revolution which led to the fall of our beloved Comrade José or were they against it? Either way they seemed to be too close to it for my liking and were not to be trusted. BHi were part of our daily life now however, even down to the social media platform that now integrated into our mobile phones. Everyone was signing up for the latest Social Media Platform ‘Bang-Hai People’ and the highest scoring citizens were becoming famous across not only the platform but the city billboards, screens and posters as well. Despite not having accepted Bang-Hai fully into my life as others seem to have I felt the need to pursue my score (which only seemed to be going down) and make my own mark on the town. Various bugs and connection problems to the city’s communications networks however were hindering my progress.

I was walking past the prison by the town centre when I saw one of the inmates was clearly trying to get my attention from a small round barred window on the fortified exterior.

I approached the window and he pointed at the visitor’s phone next to it. Curiously I lifted the receiver. The Telecon brand phone and prison had obviously seen better days as we found ourselves struggling to hear, shouting down the phones to try and make ourselves understood. This made the whole situation seem a little surreal but did intensify its urgency. From what I could make out he said there was a problem with all the communications in town but that this was just the tip of the iceberg.

The man had been imprisoned for attempting to hack into the Bang-Hai Industries Mainframe. He claimed that himself and his fellow hackers were doing no wrong and that Bang-Hai were the bad guys. He said that he was only after the truth and that the truth would set us free. They were being wrongly imprisoned and needed to get out. The only way he could gain his freedom was if I managed to find evidence that would prove his innocence and the corporation’s wrong doing. It was his last and only hope of being saved.

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for this man holed up in the the heavily fortified jail. My curiosity and my rising distrust of BHi got the better of me and I promised him I would do my best to help and free the prisoner from his confines. I decided the best place to begin my investigation would be to question the man’s captors.

The jailer was stood out in the yard by the visiting area dressed head to toe in some greenish overalls which were adorned with a belt which held a large bunch of keys and an ID badge clipped to their pocket. He seemed to have strangely yellow skin as if they had been transferred over from Springfield and clutched a clipboard on which they were currently writing someone a ticket for a disruption of public order offence outside the front of the building. Once they had finished serving up the fine and the offenders had been dispersed I approached them cautiously but in a friendly manner.

“Excuse me.What’s with these men here? This is some kind of jail?” I said said as innocently as possible.

“Why who’s asking?” replied the jailor still a little suspicious.

“Erm... I am! I’m Jonny. Nice to meet you.” I said holding out my hand out to the jailer who shook it seemingly now off his guard.

He flashed his name badge which indicated he went by the name of Tony Danza.

“Oh Jonny! Lovely to see you! Now.. did you want to book an appointment to see the prisoners? Are you a friend or… erm?”

“I am a friend! I’ve already spoken to this gentlemen” I indicated at the inmate I had conversed with  “I’m sure he’s a friend of mine.”

“Oh he’s a friend of yours is he? Awww, well that’s nice. Although he is one of the most notorious hackers ever!!” exclaimed Tony.

“Really? I never would have taken him  or one. I know he always locks himself in his room but I thought he was up to something else.” I said sounding surprised.

“You know what, he’s got a split personality. He’s not to be trusted!”

“So what’s he done then? What did he hack?” I asked hoping that I could garner some clear details, having struggled with the phone line.

“He’s called the Nuclear Wasteman and he hacked into the CEO’s accounts and tried to halt the development process on the Nuclear Power Plant. Because he’s really environmentalist, he’s like ‘Oh no! Everyone recycle. Everyone be environmental.’ He doesn’t care about money!” she said as if she was disgusted by the notion.

“Well we can’t just leave it there though.” I replied thinking about the great hulking nuclear plant in Sector 6.

A second prison officer approached, equally as yellow and interrupted “Are you flirting with this man??” they asked Tony.

“Noooo. I’m telling him about Nuclear Wasteman.” said Tony to the other officer giving the impression that such questions from their colleague was a standard occurrence.

“So is Sector 6 going again?” I carried on trying to keep my line of questioning on course.

“Sector 6 is going, yeah yeah yeah yeah.” Tony nodded enthusiastically “Sector 6 is running better than ever. Our CEO, he’s made everything wonderful!” he said with a pleased grin.

“I’ll have to have a look then…. Well thank you very much for the information.” I said taking my leave with a parting handshake before either of them could start to suspect my questioning was anything more than innocent curiosity.

I had a new mission, but it was still lunchtime so I picked up some Falafel for my brunch on the main street. As I finished it I spotted a familiar face walking up from Oldtown, one of my chief contacts from the fair. He goes by many names and monikers but I know him best as Martin of the Dank Parish. We had a quick catch up before he had to rush back off to work. He told me he was now employed to head up some of the chief operations in Mayfair District following his redundancy from Central Administration. He gave me the heads up that I was after a piece of the action it was a good place to poke around. So after a quick costume change more befitting the upmarket class of Mayfair I went to see what the deal was.

I entered the grand doors of the Mayfair Bank with the hope of changing my old outdated currency into brand new crisp Boomtown Dollars. A queue had formed at the entryway of the building but after a brief few moments we were beckoned in by one of the staff into the bank itself. The place was bustling and loud with citizens hustling and trading amongst themselves and the financial elite. Soon enough a very well dressed but sleazy looking man approached me asking me what I needed.

“I’m just after changing this for some new notes.” I said pulling my cash out of my wallet.

“Ah, you’ve got the old currency do you?” he asked “I don’t know if that one’s gonna fly.”

“Is there an exchange rate, or…” I started before being interrupted by the employee who, like everyone in here, seemed to be in some kind of rush.

“Yeah… I tell you what… all of that, for this.” he said holding up a single $100 note.

“What about two of them or…” I interjected but was then myself cut off.

“How much you got?” he said with greed in his eyes.

“I’ve counted out about $280 worth of notes of old currency.”

“What’s that??” he said pointing at a couple of my odder looking notes.

“That’s a bit of Downtown money. I don’t know if that’s valid up here?” I queried.

“It’s no use up here.” he said shaking his head.

As he did so a young woman approached me waving a handful of cash around offering to exchange it herself.  “I’ll give you the money if you give me all of that.” she said excitedly and another round of haggling commenced. Back and forth it went as she relentlessly tried to do me out of pocket with greed shining in her eyes.

“No deal! It’s not happening” I told her dismissively.

I turned away from her and the bank employee had disappeared off into the crowd like a devil disappearing in a puff of smoke and I was still stuck with my out of date currency in hand.

I hovered around from group to group for a time searching for someone that could help.

“OKAAAAY. FINAL CHANCE FOR MAKING SOME MOOLAAAH!” shouted one of the bank’s employees above the cacophony of the crowds “WHO WANTS TO MAKE SOME MONAAAYYY?”

I found myself swept up in the excitement and the crowd as we formed a little huddle in earnest interest.

“WE NEED INVESTMENT IN PEOPLE!” he proclaimed “It’s all good when it’s a Bang-Hai Economy! Who likes mundane tasks?”

“NO ONE!” I declared with enthusiasm.

“I don’t like them. But I do find them very fucking easy.” he replied. “Now, who finds mundane things easy?? You two! Up you come sirs. Up to the front!” he beckoned two eager young lads forward from the crowd and stood them in front of us.

“Alright! Who wants to make some money on the mundane?? It’s just liking wiping your ass. It’s that simple, you just gotta be good at deciding who is gonna be able to complete this task. RIIGHT! All I need you two to do is quite simple. It’s just swapping clothes, it’s easy. But I mean everything! You can’t start yet. You’ve got a minute to do it. If you can do it in a minute then the investors win some money!” he said holding up one bucket. He held up a second bucket and waved it at the crowd “Bet against them though and you could still make money! Who thinks they can swap clothes in a minute?”

The bank worker and a colleague of his then went along the crowd with some buckets. I decided to put some of my money in betting against them completing the task, hoping that I could get something back on my investment and maybe some 2018 banknotes.

“That’s everything under one minute!” he re-iterated “And that’s everything. EVERY-THING.”

The crowd placed their bets into the two buckets and the countdown began.

“Five, four, three, two, one! GO! COME ON!” he shouted.

The two lads began flailing about trying to undress in the middle of the bank. Various cameraphones suddenly appeared as they struggled and fought with items of clothing, hopping about from foot to foot. As I had suspected however they avoiding exchanging their underwear. As the timer counted down and I could feel the excitement increasing to a frenzy.

The 60 seconds timed out and both groups cheered thinking they had won, but my side was soon vindicated.

“They did not change pants soooo…..” He held the winning bucket high up and we grabbed our winnings from the two buckets. Shouts of victory were heard as we grabbed our cash feeling the rush of gambling and capitalism in one brief rapture.

I checked my wallet and found I still had plenty of the older notes to exchange so milled round for a bit trying to find where I might be able to swap them.

Out of the crowd a woman approached me. “Can I borrow your elbow for one second please?” she asked.

“Erm, surrre.” I replied slightly confused as she dragged me over to the Cashier’s Desk. An attendant stood at the transaction window and nodded at us both seemingly satisfied by the bounty “Okay, yeah. Now, can we unsheathe the elbow, please? Yes?”

“Yeah.” said the woman who had dragged me over “Get it out… Please… Sweetheart.” she said encouragingly, so I roll up my shirt sleeve.

“Now we’re trying to make sure we have the right clientele.” explained the cashier. “So I just need you to give it a little kiss.”

The woman began kissing my elbow as the cashier continued “And show it some love. Really yeah, take it out for dinner. Oh yeah! That’s it! Make love to it! Oh that’s good, yeah!”

“Do I get paid for this?” I asked hoping for a few more notes to help me through the weekend like the elbow whore I am.

“Not you! She does.” replied the cashier with a little disdain that I had dared even ask.

“Oh okay. Well that was payment enough!” I said as I was thrown back dismissively into the crowds by the woman having finished with my elbow.

With all the front desks busy I meandered over to the one nearer the back labelled ‘Exchange’ thinking it would probably be my best option, but it seemed to be closed. The desk next to it was serving customers however so I queued patiently behind a young couple. The banker currently seemed to have them each performing crab impressions in order to obtain some form of information. I struggled to overhear what exact information it was that was being exchanged but it must have been exciting and urgent as the couple left in a hurry and bolted towards the door as soon as they had it “Goodluck and come back if you can’t find it!” the banker shouted after them.

I approached the desk and made my plea again to swap old for new.

“This is no good. That money’s no good. Like I can’t believe it’s touching my desk!” she said in a bratty eastern european accent.

“It said in the Daily Rag Newspaper that we could exchange it in the bank? Surely the rag wouldn’t be mis-reporting?” I said dismayed.

“You know what? I’m really good person. I really am. I’m gonna open a bank account with you. What’s your name?” she asked pulling out some paperwork.

“Jonny”

“And your last name?”

Not wanting Bang-Hai to be keeping any more tabs on me I decided it was time for a  fake name. I had to think quick though and used the old trick of just reading the first thing you saw which happened to be the sign on the desk.

“Errrm….Open.” I lied “Jonny Open”

“Open?” she said dubiously.

“Yeah!” I replied looking from side to side in a rather suspicious fashion.

“I kind of get the feeling you are lying to me Jonny. But you know what? I’m a nice person. Imma open a signature account with you Jonny. And with a signature account, what happens is you get a thousand dollars for opening an account with us, because we are nice people and we are here to help you!”

“Yeah, I can see that. I can see that.” I said nodding my head.

“Yeah but there’s a procedural charge when we open this. I can give you 500 today to spend it. You wanna give me all that money.” she said indicating at my old currency.

“Here you go.” I said handing over my old cash.

“Amazing. One hundred, two, three, four, five.” she places the notes into my palm. “And if you don’t mind just putting your signature there.” she indicated to a form which I dutifully signed J.Open. “Amazing Jonny.” she continued “And you know what, just because I like you I’m going to give you a piece of advice. Be careful where you stick your dick and your signature.”

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you very much! Have a great day!”

“You too!” she bid me farewell as I disappeared back into the crowds, putting my money safely into my wallet as I left the bank back out onto the streets of Mayfair.

I soon find myself on Butler’s Alley, where all the most exclusive boutiques in Mayfair lay. On the steps of the Tat Modern gallery stood Boomtown’s own version of Neil Buchanan who was gathering a small group of art enthusiasts around him in preparation for an Art Attack.

“So what we’re doing is we’re making art all day here!” he declared to the group “So who here is the artist in this group?”

A young lady by the name of Ella was edged proudly forwards by her friends.

“What you’re gonna do, Ella, is have a look around. Take it all in. Take it ALL in. Take my big Art Attack in. And what you’re gonna do is you’re gonna choose something to paint and we’re gonna count down from 60 and you’re gonna have 60 seconds to make a brilliant bit of art.”

“Let me just think… what am I gonna pick... what am I gonna pick??” Ella said sounding increasingly more panicked.

“The art begins as soon as I… you’re not allowed to paint anything until I start counting… so here I gooo….60, 59, 58, 57…”

Ella began to scribble furiously onto a piece of high quality art paper with a bunch of low quality crayons looking at the shop window opposite which seemed to consist of various doll body parts arranged for unknown reasons.

A great cheer went up from the group as the count reached zero and the artwork was complete.

“Now? What are we giving this out of 10?” asked Neil.

“10!” we all shouted.

“And what are we gonna pay for this?”

“400!” shouted a girl from the crowd.

“Anyone up from 400? Who’s gonna buy this beautiful work of art?” asked Neil but no higher bids arrived.

“I tell you what.” he continued “We like to support new artists so we’ll take that off your hands. You’re gonna loan it to us and if we sell it we’ll take a commision and give you the rest back, okay?”

Neil took the piece of art from the lady and welcomed us in to the gallery to browse the other works that were already on display.

I looked around the gallery browsing each piece and examining the exorbitant prices on each. The main hall was full of art lovers and aficionados who milled around the room discussing the finer points of each display. The music of string quartet could be heard throughout the gallery bringing a kind of calm serenity to the room. A group of people stood around a piece of crumpled paper that had been accidentally dropped in the middle of the floor taking a close look at it and admiring it’s artistic properties. One man leaned towards it with his hand outstretched.

“Don’t touch it! Look but don’t touch.” I said worriedly.

“It’s an exquisite piece called Garbage” said one local expert to the gathered onlookers “It’s the most unexpected piece in here.”

“I like it!” I declared in an affirming yet surprised manner.

“It’s the most expensive and valuable piece in the gallery” continued the expert.

“I can feel it’s emotion! I can feel the emotion around it!” declared one woman “I’m smelling blue, I’m smelling purple.”

“I’m smelling something.” I said “I don’t know if that’s what purple smells like.” I scrunched up my nose deciding it was probably something a bit less arty and a little more farty.

Looking about it seemed that this gallery was maybe a little out of my price range but I took in the other works hanging around the gallery with all due diligence and respect before I made my way out. Maybe though, if I worked very hard over the Fair I could come back and return with one of the less disturbing painting to my humble abode by The Heights.

Out on the street a newspaper seller was handing out copies of the Daily Rag. Taking one I went to find a nearby bench to do a little bit of catching up on the latest news and gossip. SECTOR 6: REACTIVATION DEMONSTRATION stated the frontpage. Turning the page there were various articles and adverts that seemed to be cashing in on the previous year’s revolutionary movement, of most interest however was an article regarding the Boomtown Bobbies.

Boomtown Bobbies have said they are keeping the Boomtown Bingo Bonanza at Grandma’s Livingroom 5pm Old Town, under close surveillance. Grandma’s Livingroom has, for a long time, been a hot-bed of radical-bohemianism thought, and there have been suggestions the bingo game could descend into a ‘throwback Friday’ mimic of last years revolutionary takeover by the Masked Man’s followers. The Bobbies have advised all citizens to avoid the area during ‘kicking-out time’

It wasn’t much but it was the best lead I had at the moment but worth a follow up so I folded up the paper, placed it in my back pocket and was on my way.

Heading up Mayfair Avenue past the bars and tube station I saw one of the many huge BHi TV and Advertising screens trudging through the latest programming. An image of the masked man appeared on the screen but when the mask was pulled down instead of the expected smiling face of Nikolas Boom the cackling smug face of the Bang-Hai CEO Rothchild was revealed instead. He soon slithered off into the background and my eyes were greeted with the ongoing steady stream of celebrity based ‘reality’ shows flashing across the screen. I stared dumbfounded and bamboozled by the imagery and began to reflect on both this and the articles I had read in the newspapers over the last couple of days. Could it be that Rothchild really was the man behind the mask all the time? Had he orchestrated the entire uprising and government collapse just to give himself and his cronies more power? Or could it be that the masked was Nikolas Boom after all but Rothchild had either had taken him prisoner? Or even more ghoulish, had Nikolas Boom been buried alive under the concrete the Corporation had flushed into the tunnels  the rebels had been using beneath Sector 6? If either of the last two options had been the case then Bang-Hai would have been able to take the actual rebel uprising and use it to their own benefit. I had a lot of questions but as of yet no answers. I could only hope that my investigations would bring us all closer to the truth.

I made my way to Old Town searching the streets for any clues as I bided my time for the evening’s Bingo session. The streets and alleyways seemed to weave in and out of each other making the town into a maze in itself. These roads were familiar from the previous years but it was still possible to feel rather lost in-between the old tudor style buildings. I passed by the various pubs, venues and shops of the district peeking round every corner for signs of the revolution. If anywhere sounded a likely venue for revolution it was the People’s Frontroom, but the building seemed to be all locked up and strangely silent at that point in the day. Nearby however a large crowd had gathered to see the Stance Crew performing on the Busker’s Wharf. I had come across the crew outside the city limits the previous day. Their uplifting drums, and brass section had brought some much needed uplift and joy to us as we had sat queueing to get through customs. Currently the crew’s Mushroom Person Overlord was dancing merrily to the sounds of the accordion player.

As I meandered onwards I saw posters had been pasted to the outside of the Barber’s shop ‘Jack The Clipper. The posters were all protesting against Bang-Hai Industries planned construction plans to ‘spruce up’ the old weathered district streets. This was in stark contrast to the great billboard nearby which had been erected on behalf of Bang-Hai Real Estate promising that it was ‘Building a Brighter Future.’

Peeping around the ramshackled corners and side streets I eventually came upon the library. The sign read a closing time of 4pm so I checked my watch. Time had definitely flown as it was now 10 minutes before. Best to have a quick poke around before they closed, I decided, who knew what information could be found amongst the dusty tomes.

The library was a reasonably elaborate affair decorated with old antiques and all decked out in fancy carpets with the finest dark wooden bookshelves. The usual quietness of such an establishment however was non-existent as the noise from the Fair outside poured in through the open front doors. As I entered I was greeted by a friendly librarian who looked up at me over the top of her glasses from her desk. Our exchange of pleasantries was shortly interrupted as a gentleman approached with his girlfriend who was on the lookout for borrowing a copy of Catcher In The Rye. I left them to their exchange as I browsed the nearby shelves taking in the various titles available. The nearest shelving to me displayed their eclectic collection of Ye Olde VHS tape. They seemed to have all the classics, Mad Max, Terminator, Steptoe & Son, Father Ted, Twelve Monkeys, Small Soldiers, Tarzan, Wallace and Gromit, Snow White, The Matrix and Captain Scarlet.

“Don’t steal! Or we’ll hunt you down like a dog!” a second librarian shouted at from right beside me at a shifty looking patron on the other side of the room, causing me to jump a little. As I spun around to see what was going on she calmed again and greeted me with a warm hello.

“Hello!” I replied still a little taken startled.

“Hello dear!” she responded again loudly over the sound of the brass band which seemed to be performing just outside.

“It’s a tad noisy in this library.” I remarked.

“We’ve been telling them to quieten down but they just won't have any of it.” she exclaimed frustrated.

“Have you shushed them?” I enquired.

“Oh we’ve been shushing them all day long. They don’t even listen!” the librarian lamented,

“Terrible! Terrible!” said I.

“Oh that’s a very popular one” said the other librarian at the desk to a man who was wielding the Top Gear Alternative Highway Code “Neil Hammond. Jeremy Clarkson. It’s all there dear.”

I continued to browse the shelves, admiring a large map of the city that had been hung on the wall. I pulled out my pocket watch and took a glance “3 minutes to closing time I’d better head off” I thought, emerging into the noisy streets and deciding I’d pick up a library card at some other point.

Looking about, I caught sight of the Boomtown Costumes Company further down the street. The look of the shop from the outside was reminiscent of the old Mad Hatter’s store where the revolution had previously been rooted. I figured this was definitely a good place to try. When I reached the door I was greeted by a woman in a hat and goggles wearing an intricately styled outfit.

“Do I know you friend?” I asked her.

“I don’t know if you do. Are you from Oldtown?” she asked me suspiciously looking me up and down and inspecting my own garb. I was still dressed in a rather presentable fashion following my trip to the bank with black smart trousers, a white formal shirt and a black fedora.

“Well originally I’m from Barrio Loco. I have lived in Old Town but I’m currently living in Mayfair.”

“Typical Mayfair scum!” she said “You are not welcome here!” as she slammed the large wooden gate in my face locking it behind her. I knocked on again but there was no reply. As I looked up two oldtowners, wearing similar hats and goggles stared down at me in distaste before one pulled out a gun and fired off some warning shots forcing me to dodged and run for cover. Not the reception I was hoping for… I would have to try and be more careful with what I said to people.

I managed a rapid and evasive retreat down the road before finally managing to find a nearby alcove in which to hide. Taking a momentary breather I took a calming sip of rum from my hip flask to calm my nerves which I had stashed in one of my back pockets. From my vantage point I eyed up the Pyrite Traders & Thomas Crook establishment nearby, keeping a close eye on the band of brigands who were hanging around the building. The pirates had never really proved to be much of a reliable source of information in the past but I decided it was at least worth an ask. I entered the den of scurvy sea dogs which was trying terribly hard to maintain facade of being a respectable business (but was falling far short). A woman sat at her desk in a large throne-sized chair looking as if she was queen of the pirates herself. By her side stood a scurvy wench who hovered around the desk waving her cutlass nonchalantly in a dangerous fashion. Various pieces of nautical navigation equipment sat on the desk amongst maps and scrolls. How the rest of this exchange went however  is fairly hazy to me now but that could be to do with the failed attempt at billy-clubbing and a little too much rum. Flashes of maps, parrots, gold pieces, treasures and sea-weathered faces are all an incoherent blur.

I staggered out the pirate’s den with a sore head and the smell of booze on my breath in a slightly confused state. I did however recall that they had been very keen to save the Oldtown Port from the grimy hands of Bang-Hai Industries who wished to bulldoze the whole neighborhood in order to build a swathe of luxury hotels and condos. What I did remember for sure was that the  woman sat in the large chair had recommended that my next stop should be to check out the Wild West and speak with the landlubbers there.

As I passed what seemed to be some kind of shop window I caught sight of the message ‘HACK THE MAINFRAME. DON’T BELIEVE THE LIES’ which had been stuck to the glass using a series of post-it notes. Inside the room seemed to be some kind of computer repair shop with various components and monitors lying about. The building seemed quiet at present though with no sign of the post-it bandits at present.

As I turned around I caught sight a suspicious looking man in a hoodie take a couple of people in through the side door of the Town Hall. I made my way across the square and inspected the now locked door. I recalled that this door lead into the heart of Central Administration itself. After the uprising and a year of disrepair the building was beginning to look worse for wear with it’s boarded up windows and crumbling facade. As I was inspecting the lock on the door a group of tourists approached me

“Is this the town centre like right there?” asked one of the girls.

“Yeah.” I replied

“But like how do I get into THERE?” she says pointing at the door.

“He doesn’t even work here!” said another one of the girls from the group.

“Hello? Anybody in?” said the first girl knocking at the door. “I want to go innnn!”

The group decided to hang around with me by the door, waiting to see if the mysterious figures would re-emerge and drinking from a bottle of rum that was being passed around as we talked amongst ourselves.

After a good few minutes of this the door opened and a hoodied figure popped his head out.

“You seek attentions?” he said in a soviet accent.

“Do I know you friend?” I asked him.

“Yes. Come in, come in.” he said beckoning us through the door and down a dark corridor.

The room was full of computers, monitors, keyboards and machinery that looked like it had been pulled together from the remains of the Central Intelligence service rooms where that I once reported to. The screens displayed scrolling code and command lines with everything networked up to various communications systems. Another two figures, both in black hoodies, were both examining the instrumentation but turned to check us out as we entered. The man who had greetd us took me to one side as another of the three hooded folk spoke to the group.

“What information you have?” he asked me.

“Bang-Hai Industries have been locking people up. They’ve got them all trapped over in their new jail.”

“Oh fuck. Shit man.” he exclaimed.

“Are they friends of yours?” I asked.

“Yeah yeah, of course but we not go to jail, we are secret!” he declared.

The two other hackers seemed to have english accents and had meanwhile begun briefing the tourist group asking them to go round all the small venues in Oldtown to look for evidence to free their friends from the jail. All they needed to get started was a passphrase. They all gathered around him eagerly repeating what they needed to say to progress through their mission “Do I know you friend?” they chanted.

“The future is in your hand.” said the soviet “Your children, they will love you. Come come come, start the mission.”

“GO! GO! GO!” shouted the female hacker as the tourists ran back out onto the streets ready to join the mission.

“Are you friends with the hackers who are all locked up over there then? They said they need some help!” I said to the englishman.

“We are everywhere!” replied the englishman.

“Well you’re definitely here and you’re definitely over there.” I affirmed.

“Who sent you?” asked the woman.

“The gentleman that’s locked up over in the jail.” I replied.

“Have you got the evidence?” asked the englishman.

“Not yet. But I’m looking. Do you have any leads?”

“The entry point into the maze is in Old Town.”

“I’ve been to Old Town. I went to speak with the pirates. I used the passphrase and they sent me to the Wild West so I guess that’s where I should head next?” I asked.

“They sent you to Wild West? Sounds like a red herring to me.”

“It sounded like a red herring to me as well. I thought you might know something different.” I said remembering the times the pirates had sent me on a goose chase in previous years.

“You need to go back to Old Town and ask around again, you have until 6pm. Now go go!” he said and they sent me back into the streets.

I headed back to Old Town, eager to progress in my mission. The only clue I had at the moment was to try Grandma’s Living Room, the place where the wrinkled residents of Boomtown came together for bingo, beats and battenberg. When I arrived at the house the Living Room was packed from wall to wall. A female grime MC in a sports jersey was causing quite a ruckus from inside the the large painting that hung over Grandma’s fireplace. Various geriatric jivers danced amongst the crowd waving their walking sticks around dangerously. I had a peek around the rest of the house combing it for possible clues. There didn’t seem to be any sign of revolution in here at the moment, only an enthusiasm for Lyle’s Golden Syrup and a house that was starting to look very much trashed by all the weekend’s antics. The kitchen and dining room were without any inspiration for my quest so I decided to check upstairs. To my disappointment however the only thing to discover upstairs was a pile of strung out youths giggling on granny’s bed clutching a bag of cans for the lads.

Having checked through all the house I took a seat one of the armchairs waiting for something to actually happen. The MC and DJ were both going in pretty hard spinning up nuff rewinds and the crowd and grannies were definitely loving it. Time crept on and the advertised time of 5pm Bingo had passed and gone. A new DJ emerged in the painting and took to the decks and still nothing happened. Nothing resembling any kind of revolution seemed to materialise and I had found nothing new to go. The hackers at the Town Hall had said I only had another hour to find the next clue so sitting in the living room all night didn’t seem like it was going to get me anywhere, so I left the ruckus of Grandma’s and went back to my street by street search.

I wandered the streets of Old Town checking every nook and cranny (and granny) I could find. From Rimski’s Yard (which was bustling with junk traders) to a large group of Pro-Trump Moles Protestors, to the gathered folks trying to find salvation with the nuns; the whole town seemed to be teeming with activity. Down one of the back alleys of Oldtown Port I came across a couple who were loitering near a suspicious looking doorway. We got talking and they told me that they were both on the trail of getting to the bottom of the mystery of Old Town. The girl, who seemed to be Irish, was quite excited about the prospect and believed they were getting close. The guy sounded like he was also some form of Celt also, but seemed content to let the girl do most of the talking as he flipped through his guidebook and map. Suddenly a face appeared in a small hatched window at the door staring at us all with wide eyes.

“Do I know you friend?” I asked him.

“What did you say to me??” he asked squinting at me with suspicion.

“I said do I know you….friend.” I repeated firmly.

“Are these two with you?” he asked checking out my two companions.

“These two are friends as well.” I assured having got a good measure of them already as they had spilled the details of their own investigations to me.

“Do we know you friend?” said the Irish girl to try and reassure the disembodied head at the hatch.

Down the alleyway strode a gentleman dressed in a black corset tied with red ribbon wearing a black top hat and holding a cane with stockings that came up above the knees. Alongside him was a big hulking cyborg bodyguard with a cage around his head and a large fuel supply tank on his back. He wore khaki combat pants and had pieces of protective leather armor strapped to him.

“Good evening.” the gentleman with the cane said to the three of us who were still stood outside the door as he approached us.

“Get rid of them. Get rid of them.” whispered the person behind the door who had disappeared closing a curtain across the opening.

“Errrrrr. How you doing guys?” I asked the strange pair trying to pluck up some courage and wile.

“We are good. How are you?” said the gentleman twirling his cane.

“Well I’m pretty good! What brings you here?” I asked.

“Erm, alcohol mostly!” he replied.

“Alcohol? There’s an excellent bar just over there! Have you been there yet?” I pointed towards the tavern near the back end of the port.

“Have we been to that bar yet?” the gentleman asked his hulking companion. The cyborg grunted and shook his head.

“I think you should! Say you’ve spoken to Jonny and you might get a free drink!” I blagged.

“Thank you Jonny.” said the man tipping his top hat slightly to me.

“Have a good evening!” I said as they walked back down the alley towards the tavern.

Once they had cleared the corner I gave it a moment before knocking on the door.

“Coast is clear!” I told them.

“Quickly! Quickly!” the person behind the door said urgently.

Rapidly the 3 of us scooched into the building into what looked like the innards of a former sailing ship. The back wall however was covered in monitors and hacking terminals, just as I had seen in the old Town Hall. The room barely seemed to be lit other than the glow from the screens and equipment.

“Line up here please.” said a woman kitted out in the same kind of hoodie the town hall group had been wearing.

“I’ve got to scan you.” said another who was waving some kind of device around us.

“Arms up! Yes, arms up!” said the first woman “A bit higher. Thank you. Just checking you’re… yep.”

“It’s looking clear. Yep, yep. Virus free. All clear! All clear!” said the scanner.

The three of us were now lined up against the wall with me in the corner. The one who had scanned us turned round to the computer terminals and entered some data “We’re looking good on the system.”

All three of them turned and stood in front of us, the man from the door, the one who scanned us and the other woman who seemed to have the air of authority out of the trio.

“Well greetings all.” I said to them.

“Greetings comrades.” said the man. “This is the Hackers Hub. Have you been on a mission?”

“We’ve not been on a mission yet.” I responded “I spoke to some people in jail. Also for hacking. I presume you know them? They were asking us to find some evidence.”

“And they sent you here?” he asked.

“They sent us to Oldtown. I think we’re in the right place?” I said with hope.

“You are in the right place! Are you committed to bringing down Bang-Hai Industries?” he asked us.

“There’s something definitely wrong with it.” I said thinking back on what I had seen so far.

“It’s more than wrong.” said the hacker.

“They’re talking about bulldozing Oldtown? I’ve grown to love Oldtown!” I said reflecting on the good times the last few years had brought.

“It’s a creeping gentrification with a sinister underbelly and we’ve been working night and day to bring them down from the inside. But we need operatives. Are you up to the mission?” he asked us.

“We’re ready for the mission!” I said having taken the lead.

“Are all of you up for it?” asked the authoritarian woman staring down the other two of my companions who had been yet to speak.

“Yes.” said the Irish girl.

“I’m not sure about this guy.” said the hacker who had been briefing to the Celtic lad who was yet to speak “I can’t even see you, come here!”

“It’s quite dark.” I quipped “Have you considered installing lights?”

“We don’t need lights” said the boss lady as tough as nails.

“Ahhh. Carrots. Lots of carrots.” I concluded.

“We need committed operatives.”  said the male hacker. “This isn’t piss around time!!!” not taking to my comments. He took a moment but then decided to carry on “What I need you to do is to go to the Wild West. It’s a lawless place. There are our operatives, there are counter-operatives. I want you to maintain a very low profile. What you need to do is to go there with your passcode that you used to get into here. You need to use this passcode and do what they tell you to do. I don’t know what their disguise is but find them and use the passcode and they will give you further instruction.”

“Understood, thank you.” I said “We won't let you down.”

The three hackers thanked us for our support and gave us a bit of encouragement for our mission.

“They are everywhere and the walls have ears.” said the one briefing us “Remember, the crow cries twice at midnight.” he grabbed the door handle that would lead us back out into the alleyway. “Three, two, one!” he opened the door quickly.

“GOGOGOGOGO!” I said as we sprinted for the end of the alley back into the port.

In moments we found ourselves back in the bustling Old Town Port. A band played the Cantina Theme on a nearby stage and people jostled about getting on with their more mundane activities.

“Thank youuu! It was nice to meet you.” the Irish girl said to me giving me a smile, then her and her fella disappeared off into the crowds towards the west. I took a moment and then continued on my own path, meandering out from the port, a lone agent once more.

When I arrived in the Wild West of Boomtown the locals were already in the midst of a full brawl with punches thrown and gunshots sounding. The Town Drunk stumbled out from the saloon to lie in a heap on the woodchipped road as the harlots looked on and laughed. Once everyone had tired themselves out, the  brawl came to a conclusion as the tusslers wore themselves out and the defeated crawled off without any fatalities on this occasion.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll be waiting for you!” shouted one as the fighters crowd dissipated.

“You’ll be hearing about this!” replied one of the opposing cowboys as he himself slunk off to tend to his wounds.

“What the hell’s going on in this town now?” I found myself thinking out loud.

A bearded man in a wide brimmed hat was stood nearby at the front of the main street bank nursing his bruises from the fight.

“Do I know you friend?” I asked.

“You might do sir. You might do. Pleased to meet you.” he replied in his distinctly old west accent

“What’s been goin on?” I enquired.

“You know about them Rothchilds and those Bang-Hai tryin ta take over errything with their corporation and their greed?” he asked me.

“I’m very well aware of this.” I said in a grave tone.

“Nikolas Boom founded this town. It used to be a good town. Folks in this town take care of each other. Yeah, we got a few brawls but y’know we take care of each other. That there, that deputy that’s wanderin around here. I KNOW that he’s in their pocket. But that kinda makes one suspicious cos he banged someone up in that jail over there. Didn do nuffin wrong. Folk tryin to hearsay that he knows sumthin.”

“The same seems to be going on over in the town centre!” I said seeing that this was definitely not a localised one off incident. Again I found myself wondering what had happened to Charlie Brown and other key district leaders who had seemed to have disappeared over the last few years.

“I know it’s everywhere, son. But they ain’t our problem. But errm, see that Deputy there. Try an be careful he don’t hear what you sayin when you talk to that prisoner, hear? He knows things, son. I know he knows things! Good luck sir.” he nodded at me and with a tip of his hat he sent me on my way.

I made my way down the street from by the bank where the brawl had been towards the Lawless Halls of Justice. On the corner of the courthouse was the jail. A man stood behind the bars looking worse for wear gripping the bars in his hands.

“Do I know you friend?” I asked.

“I knew you’d say that! Someone sent you to say that?” he replied with a crazed grin.

“That man over by the bank sent me. Rumor is you’ve been locked up for no good reason.”

“Yeah I’ve been locked up for no good reason. I been locked up! I’m an innocent man! All I did was speak the truth! I’m  the editor of a rag which would bring down the Rothschilds. The Lizard People. I’m Jeremiah Hucksley.” he introduced himself.

“So you’ve got some dirt on the corporation?” I asked him.

“Erm, yep yep. Here’s the evidence!” he said as he pulled out a newspaper he had been hiding in his jacket.

“This is what I’ve been looking for!” I said thrilled that I finally had something.

“It’s all part of the puzzle. You get all the little pieces together and you make innocent people free.” he said pleased to be making a difference.

I spent a little while just talking with Jeremiah as he shared his tale and ordeal. The poor guy said it felt like he had been trapped in there for years.

“One way or another justice will be done. Thank you sir. Power to the people!” he concluded.

“Power to the people!” I echoed.

“Freedom of speech, people! Freedom of speech!” he shouted as I left the jail and headed back down the road the direction I had come.

I weaved through the people who strolled down the road keeping a careful eye on the deputy sheriff making sure to stay out of his way.  Momentarily I took refuge in the train station which was packed full of travellers. I recalled that the train station had been taken over by Bang-Hai Industries the year before so made sure I didn’t linger long and soon slinked down the back street to one of the covered wooden porches. Four ladies by the name of The Screaming Harlots were stood out in front of The Rusty Spur singing harmonies for the passers by. I pulled out the piece of newspaper that Jeremiah had given me and began to read it over.

By the sound of it a mysterious group of people had been trying to obtain Boomtown since the very early days and the founding of the town. They had brought claims against Nikolas Boom saying the land was theirs and were going about taking it from him in a rather heavy handed fashion. Could this be the same group of people we were dealing with now? Could this be the Rothchilds, the figures behind Bang-Hai Industries and the current takeover of the city. Could these be the very people who have conspired to overthrow the government over 200 years later to take control of the town? Could this even be the rumored Boominati? It wasn’t much to go on but it was something.

Evidence securely back in my pocket I made it over to the Town Hall to try and find out what our next move might be. When I got to the side door however it was securely locked with no sign of the hackers or any other way in. By the door there was a newspaper rack that had earlier contained saturday’s edition of the Daily Rag. In its place sat a lone document that seemed to have been left by the hackers themselves. This was far from the Rag which was now in firmly under the influence of Bang-Hai. This was Wikileaks scale news, the truth for the people…

I now had both this and Jeremiah’s article but where to go next? Looking round the town centre for inspiration, the prison caught my eye once more. I returned to the jail once more in order to consult with Nuclear Wasteman. I informed him about where I had been and what I had found out so far and he advised that I return to the Town Hall the next day at 1pm, saying my next contact will meet me there. He told me that this was much bigger than just getting him and his friends out of jail. Getting to the bottom of this could not only change Boomtown, but the world at large. We needed to take down the Corporation for the good of everyone before it was too late. I just needed to bring together as much evidence as I could in order for this to happen. Visiting hours were nearly over so he wished me the best of luck and I left quickly before Tony Danza or his colleague noticed that I was back and started asking their own questions.

When darkness fell I decided it was best to have a break and a bit of a knees up. Reel Big Fish were headlining in the town centre and this was one of the bands I really didn’t want to miss. When I arrived in the centre a large crowd had already gathered. The giant screen on the stage was displaying the current highest scoring citizens from the Bang-Hai People Social Network as the roadies finished setting up. The lights dimmed and we were momentarily plunged into darkness before a burst of fantastic lighting from all around as colorful masked performers appeared dressed in the top-hat and goggled style of the past revolution.

After this odd display of possible mass brainwashing of the populace by BHi, the band came on and started their show. Weirdly enough they seemed to follow the theme with one of the highlights being their performance of ‘Sell Out’. It had taken me a while in life to catch on to how much I loved this band. Their Boomtown Fair performance really brought that notion home as song after song I knew and really buzzed off. The crowd danced and bounced around with it proving to be one of the most fun performances I’d seen for a while.

The town crier called a close to the town’s main stage for the night and the crowd slowly dispersed as the skies clouded over and the rain began. As I sought shelter under the arches at the bottom of the main street, I bumped into a couple of my friends, Jack Redeye and Kiva. They introduced me to a couple of the people they had been adventuring around the city with. One of them, Dave, mysteriously looked the spitting image of the drunk I had seen earlier in the Wild West. Dave said he was an expert guide in these parts and recommended that we visit the Asylum for a quick check up.

When we reached the waiting room it was already packed full of citizens sat on the benches that lay along each wall of the cramped room. After a short time an orderly came to fetch me and Jack taking us into one of the patient's room.  The walls were absolutely covered with pictures of cats and a young lady in a tattered old dress with a wild look in her eyes was sat on an rickety spring bed.

“Good evening.” I said to her as she stared up at me smiling, “How you doing?”

She mumbled something, smiling to herself as her eyes swept the room.

“Do you like kitties?” I tried asking.

“Yes.” she said quietly yet warmly.

“Do ye likes dogs?” asked Jack.

“Dogs and Cats don’t really get on.” I said to Jack as if that was news.

“Oh, you ask if I like Dogs? No I don’t like Dogs. I like only cats.” she replied in some kind of eastern european accent.

“Only cats.” I confirmed “You’ve been drawing cats?”  I said examining some of the artwork on the walls “Which one’s your favorite?”

She had a brief think before saying “It’s like picking one of your childs, you know?”

“I understand that.” I nodded sympathetically “Yeah….they’re a lovely bunch.”

“No… there’s only one pussy for me.” said Jack pausing for a moment “That one!” he pointed at a tabby in a picture of two kittens together.

“Yes. They were born together.” she said said pointing at the pair.

“Awwwww.” I said looking at the sweet little furballs.

Abruptly one of the nurses poked he head through the door “Are you showing my pussy? Just here. This my pussy. Her name is Ginger!  This is my pussy.” she said pointing to a lovely ginger one.

“Not bad. Not bad.” I said examining it before we introduced ourselves to the nurse. The nurses name badge either read Steffanie or Cheffy although this was a topic of much debate for a moment. It was not a mystery we would solve however as we were soon beset upon at the doorway to  the room by a male patient dangerously wielding a pair of scissors that he was licking with his tongue.

“Hi!” I said greeting him “You probably shouldn't do that. It’s dangerous. Especially don’t run with them.”

“Is he disturbing you?” asked Cheffy.

“Well he is running about with scissors. Although I think he may be the one that’s disturbed.” I said.

“We’ve been trying to get the scissors off  him.” said Cheffy shaking her head as the patient began to try and stick the scissors up his bum.

“Erm….uh-oh!” I exclaimed indicating the issue to the nurse.

“Here we go. One….two….threee!!” said Chefft as the patient jammed the scissors up between his cheeks as this was a normal and acceptable occurrence in this facility.

The patient screamed loudly before breaking into giggles, grinning at us all impishly.

“I LOVVVVE EEEHHHT!” he shouted removing the scissors and offering them to me.

“No. I’m okay, thank you!” I said backing away a little. “Are you gonna…?” I said to Jack.

“How much for that?! Fuckin hell” Jack said enthusiastically.

“Awww. We having special times!” exclaimed Nurse Cheffy, who I was now doubting the credentials of.

“You want some?” the patient said to Jack, grinning as he dragged my friend off into what looked like some kind of closet.

“You’ll burn in hell if you go in there!” shouted another nurse from behind us, with an accent from the american deep south.

The door was locked as it shut “He might regret that.” said the newly arrived nurse in her southern drawl.

“I’m thinking he might.” I said waiting nervously hoping he would re-emerge.

I stood out by the closed door looking around feeling rather uncomfortable in the cramped corridors, ill at ease with both the patients and staff members now.

“You’d best check your friend.” said the southern nurse, urging me to check on my compatriot.

“Jack?! Are you alright mate?” I shouted. A few grunts and strange muffled noises could be heard from behind the locked door.  “I think there’s problems going on.” I said to the nurse.

Then came a series of loud screams and a gurgle.

“Jack? Are you still alive?” I shouted at the door before another shriek from the other side was followed by an evil laugh and then silence.

Suddenly the door opened and the patient with the scissors emerged….but not with Jack. With a completely different man.

“Oh…….. what happened there?” I said eyeing up the two figures.

“This your friend, right?” said the scissors patient.

“Erm… I’m not so sure. He looks a little different.” I said confused

“Yeah, this is your friend here.” said the scissors patient.

“Oh... Of course. Hi friend!” I said deciding it was best to accept the situation and shaking New Jack’s hand.

“Out we go now!” said the southern nurse encouraging me down the corridor along with my new friend.

New Jack seemed to be wearing some kind of hospital outfit and was much taller than the original Jack.

“Are off to have a rave? Is this the way out?” I asked as we made our way down the corridor of the asylum. New Jack lead me to a door, but it was definitely not the way out. We entered what seemed to be the medication dispensary room and my new friend shut the door behind us.

“So… yeah… this is the medicine…. do you take any medications?” I enquired thinking it was probable.

New Jack reached for what I originally thought was going to be some pills but turned out to be a hand full of wax crayons. “Oh. And some lovely crayons here. Do you want to do some drawing?” I asked him. He pointed at the wall where it appeared someone had already been scrawling some babblings.  “Oh I see you’ve done some already.” I said trying to decipher it.

“Draw on the wall! Somewhere fresh!” New Jack spoke for the first time.

“Draw on the walls?”

“Draw on the walls. Make it creepy. Make it creeeepy! Make it super creepy! Like something fragile and needy!” he said to me.

I began to join in with this preschool form of graffiti art writing a distress message of my own when I suddenly I became aware that one of the senior doctors was stood behind me peering in through the hatch that was used to give out the medication. I felt like I had been caught red-handed and began to fear the possible repercussions.

“What are you doing in there?” questioned the doctor curiously in a posh yet foreign accent.

“He’s drawing on the walls something fragile and neeeeedy!” said New Jack.

“Ah! Drawing a penis are you?” said the doctor as if diagnosing a patient.

“Erm…. is that what needs to be done?” I asked feeling like I should be complying. The doctor’s commanding stare seemed to indicate that was indeed what needed to happen so I somehow found myself drawing genitalia on a wall in the medicine store of an asylum in the wild west. I could feel the evening spiraling out of control already.

“Is that good?” I said drawing a large one on the wall.

“It’s not particularly graphic! I like graphic!” said the doctor.

“Oh… like how many penises do we need to draw?” I asked staring at the canvas.

“Oh no, I mean something disturbing like real labia and shit.” the doctor replied.

“Oh… well I’m not really an artist you know.” I said “I went down to the Art Gallery earlier but it didn’t really work out for me as a career path.”

“Oh shit, I see. Do you need group therapy?” said the doctor sympathetically leading me away from the medicine store further into the asylum leaving New Jack drawing on the walls with his crayons. I tried to decline the offer but before I knew it the doctor already had me through the door of the therapy room.

In the centre of the room was a circle of benches and on these benches sat various people who I had seen in the waiting room including Original Jack’s friend, Dave, the town drunk’s doppelganger.

“Ah. It looks like there’s already a group in here.” said the doctor.

“Erm. Hello group.” I said waving sheepishly as the doctor urged me forwards

“Ah yes. Come sit down. There is much therapy available.” she said to me as I took a bench.

The therapist seemed to be sat with one of the permanent residents who she currently who seemed to be inappropriately intermingling with her. “This is a no touching station!” she exclaimed to him batting him away. Her struggle with the patient continued for a short while as she kept trying to reassure us that everything was fine and under control.

In the end, unable to continue with the session due to the patients incessant pestering, she finally flipped.

“GET BACK IN ZE CAGE!” she yelled smacking the patient who made a rapid retreat away from the nurse.  “I didn’t mean to touch you. Sorry about zat. But you had best be off and shut ze door on the way out.” she said to the misbehaving miscreant, who slammed the door heavily on the way out.

“He is very violent. Zat is why I don’t touch him” continued the nurse to the group “Okay now…. On viv ze session. Just say your name cus we’ve all said ours now.” she said addressing the person who was sat next to me on the bench.

“Oh my name’s Peter.” he said giving a little wave.

“Oh. And yourself?” the therapist said looking to me.

“Oh, I’m Jonny.” I said kind of nervously aware that everyone was staring at me.

Thankfully the attention then returned to the rest of the group as people shared short tales and said a bit about themselves. Once we were settled in we moved onto the next part of the session which apparently was going to involve us expressing ourselves through art, which seemed to be a recurring theme at present.

“Now straight our fingers up in ze air like dis.” the therapist instructed, indicating for us to hold an index finger out in the air. “Now you want to look deep, deep into ze mind. Then begin to draw viv your finger vat you see.” she paused and watched as we all began to trace out our pictures. “Now….dost anyvone have any requests of a song for vhile you are drawings?” she asked

“Freebird! Play Freedbird” shouted out one of the therapy circle.

“Yes. I think it goes something like zis… Freebird.  Yeah, I vant to be freeeeee birrrrd...” she sang before we were interrupted by another person peeking in the door.

“Ahhh. Come in! Come in! Welcome to ze therapy session.” welcomed our host. “Don’t vurry, please take a seat. We are just doing ze art, yes.”

Our fingers continued to trace shapes and lines through the air creating our incorporeal artworks.

“Okay… It seems about people have finished ze drawings. ” said the therapist looking around the group before she turned to the newcomer “Before we continue vuld you like to say your name for ze rest of the group?”

“My name’s Dave.” said the newest arrival adding a second Dave to our lineup.

“Hello Dave!” said the group with a slight encouragement from our therapeutic leader who looked directly into the newcomers eyes and said in a deadpan yet matter of fact tone “You’re my wife now Dave.”

While the therapist was distracted one of the men from the group made a run for the door and bolted.

“BYYYYYEEEEE!” said the therapist in a slightly psychotic way before turning to us and telling us “Zey were here because they were particularly troubled.”

“Awww. I’m glad you could help them” I said to her.

“Now ve have settled matters I’m sure he will be fine. Now….I am just looking around ze pictures ve are havings. And I am seeing some very lovely pictures. Now you of course…” she said to the first participant “You have drawn a house as you have issues with your mother.”

The first artist nodded as the therapist turned her attention to the next drawing in the circle. “And you of course, you have drawn a small panda, is that right?” she asked.

“Yes it is! You’re absolutely right!” he replied quite pleased with himself.

“He has problems with his mother.” she said knowingly.

“Oh boy do I have problems with my mother! You’re very intuitive!” he confirmed.

“See. I am very very well trained.”

Eventually she turned to look at mine horrified by what she perceived.

“Do not look at zat picture!” she warned “If you look at zat picture, it vill be in your mind forever! Vat I am seeing there is quite pervy and disturbing! You have a very dark mind!”

“It was supposed to be a giraffe.” I said sadly.

“Well zat is not vat I am seeing  I don’t know know if you should be in group therapy or an art class!”

“I keep telling everyone, art is not working out for me today.”

“I think there is a problem with you….but if we all work together we can cure him, yes?” the therapist said to the circle. The group nodded in agreement so she continued “Now everybody, put your hands on ze man. Whose name….. is gone from my mind.”

“It’s Jonny.” I reminded her.

“If I had had to guess I would of said Jonny….or Dave.” she said. Both Daves nodded knowingly as the chances of a Dave in these parts seemed high “Okay, put your hands on ze Jonny.” she continued as the group all stood up and laid their hands upon me with arms outstretched. “Now sometimes violence arises from ze people. You need to create a violent environment for them in order to draw out ze violence. Let us think of ourselves in ze jungle and how we might be in zere or in ze farmyard. Focus on ze violent sounds and make ze most violent environment for him. Okay… after three. Von, two, three!!!” she declared as a cacophony of animal cries erupted from all around me. The sound was almost deafening as it seemed to resonate from everywhere at once. I closed my eyes and cringed waiting for it to be over as the sound washed over me.

Eventually after what seemed like an age the sound subsided and I heard the therapist's voice once more. “Okay. Now I vant to look in your eyes.” she said.

I opened my eyes and I was now face to face with the therapist peering at me with a medical curiosity “I am seeing…….. a clear mind” she said relieved.

A great cheer rose up from my group including myself as we all celebrated our achievement in the exorcism of apparent dark thoughts (or giraffes) from my mind.

“Go Jonny! Go Jonny! Go!” the group chanted as we all did a little happy dance that carried on out the door as we were released with a clean bill of mental health once more. The partying continued out into the corridors of the institute once more which was breaking out into what seemed to be half giddy riot and half post-apocalyptic rave. People ran rampant shouting, laughing and screaming as drumming broke out against all the doors and walls throughout the asylum to a resounding chorus of “Ohhh Jeremy Corbyn!”

People ran up and down the halls and colorful plastic balls were flung everywhere. Anarchy now reigned in the West and we partied out into a night of saloons, race tracks, dens, sideshows, burlesque and brothels like a wave of energy.

Saturday

After a Pumpkin Katsu Curry brunch I headed into the Town Centre, avoiding enemy agents along the way, to await my next contact with the hackers. Thankfully this worked out well and allowed me to take in one of the Fair’s performances I had been looking forward to, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious 5. I had seen them the previous year in at Tramways in Sheffield but they were totally worth seeing again. An hour of classic hip-hop with some of the greatest legends of the game? Not to be sniffed at. I even managed to run into some friends from Bolton, Hannah and Sophie, and we happily danced about to the Five and guests who totally smashed it bringing the good old skool vibes.

Once the show was over and my friends had headed off to go and see another band I hung around keeping an eye on the Town Hall. Eventually I saw a head peering out of the side door so I carefully approached them looking around for any sign of counter-agents.

“Do I know you friend?” I asked the hooded man peeking out from the gap in the door.

“I don't know if you do.” he said seeming very suspicious of me. This didn’t seem to be one of the hackers I had met the previous day but the way they all tried to hide their faces I was not sure.

“I’ve brought evidence from the Wild West.” I told him.

"Come on then! Quickly!" he said letting me in and securing the door behind us. We made our way down the corridor into the dark interior of the Town Hall.

“Now did anyone see you come in?" asked the hooded man concerned.

"No, not as far as I could see. But I did have to avoid some enemy agents in Wild West on the way up to the town centre earlier.” I told him.

“Double Agents? Hmmm….” he said seeming to mull it over for a moment. A second hooded hacker seemed to be busy in the background typing information onto a computer terminal, this one looked like the woman who had been in her the day before.

"Show us what you've got for us." the man continued.

I explained to him about Jeremiah Hucksley having been locked up at the Lawless Halls of Justice and that it appeared as if the corporation may have been there since the start. I pulled the newspaper out of my back pocket and unrolled it for him handing it over.

“It looks as if we've got some hot evidence here! Quick, get it on the system!” he said passing it to the woman who then took it over to the machinery and began scanning, analyzing and uploading it onto the system.

Another hacker then entered the room, talking excitedly to his colleagues as switches were flicked, commands were entered on keyboards and buttons were pressed. The room became a hive of activity as they bolted back and forth between panels and screens.

The one I had been speaking with brought over a large control box covered with switches and dials which was attached and suspended from the ceiling by a thick cable.

“Hold this.” he said to me handing me the heavy box which I diligently grabbed from him.

“Turn that dial!” he said to me and I rotated the large dial all the way up to maximum “Now enter the code.”

“The code? What code?” I said feeling like I had missed a clue somewhere.

“Enter the 3 digit code!” he said urgently.

“Errrrm…..123!” I said giving it a panicked stab in the dark and punching in the numbers on the keypad.

"Now multiply it by 10." he said taking me off guard once more. My brain stopped in panic and I had what I call one of my ‘maths freezes’ - It didn’t matter how easy or obvious the answer was, it was too late.

"Rachel Riley!!! Where are you when I need you?!" I shouted up into the sky crying for help.

"Erm.. try putting a 0 on the end of it." said the female hacker who sounded very much unimpressed by my failing at doing something so obvious and easy… which it was.  Rather embarrassed I typed in the second half of the code and the screens were filled with computer code scrolling past. It seemed that the key to unlocking the code had been hidden in the newspaper print all the time.

"I've never seen anything like this." said the guy in the background on staring at the terminal screen.

"What is it?" asked the female hacker.

"This code looks like it's from the future!" said the other one staring at it in amazement.

"From District 5 maybe?" I suggested thinking of the alien-tech influenced space port downtown.

“Mission 1 is now complete. Well done” said the leader to me taking the control box back and putting it aside. “What I need you to do now is go and see a man by the name of Andy Roid. He can be found at The Kiosk in Chinatown. Take this symbol and show it to him. He will know what it means.” said the hacker handing me a small square piece of paper displaying the same symbol as they wore on their garments. “Tell him where you have been and that we need help to decipher this Future Code. He will know what to do. Good luck.”

And with that I was sent back out into the world with my second mission started and hope in my heart now I was finally on the right path.

I figured that finding the place would be a challenge to find but it was pretty much the first place I laid my eyes on; a small windowed kiosk on the edge of Chinatown next to the picnic area. It’s green sign read ‘Tech Repair Kiosk’ and was stylised as half barcode/half circuit board. Within the hatched window sat two figures surrounded by all kinds of pieces of technological scrap, parts and tools. Neither of them seemed to look like Androids or even Chinese, but I guess you never can tell. Both looked rather bohemian and were dressed in dark well used formal jackets with slightly battered hats. Looking at them I could have sworn I had seen them both at Rimski’s Yard amongst the rebel rousers previously.

“Do I know you friend?” I asked discreetly flashing the hackers symbol I had been given at him “I’m looking for Andy Roid.”

“Andy Roid? I am not sure if he is here right now. We will see, but first we need to make sure you are really a friend.” said the man who now stood at the hatch as he grabbed some kind of scanning device from the behind him and passed it over me a few times.

“What’s in your pocket?” he said to me.

“Just my phone, wallet and sonic screwdriver.” I said pulling out the contents into my hands.

“Yes. We will just need your phone for one moment then.” he said and  I passed it over to him.

“There.” he continued “You seem to be clear enough. I am Andy Roid. Pleased to meet you friend. Now what can we do for you?”

I related to him what we had found so far and the things that had been happening up on Hilltop.

“Yes friend, we have already received the first part of the code and it is indeed from the future.” he said “But we need more of the code to crack this wide open. Much more code.”

His colleague gave him a phone battery which he then handed to me and he continued “What we need you to do is take the phone battery here to the Telecon up the street and give it to a friend there. The battery has the code hidden inside it. Take it to them and use it to gather more evidence and get more code. Things here are going from bad to worse. We need to hack the mainframe, uncover the truth and spread it. Get it all up on the big screens! The people must know! Make your way up the street to Telecon but stay on the middle of the path and do not stray. The enemy lie in the shadows and they are out to stop you.”

“Stay in the middle of the path. Got it.” I confirmed before briefly going through the details with Andy once more to be sure.

“Oh and you probably want this.” he said taking my phone from his colleague and returning it to me “It’s all clear now so they won’t be able to track you.”

“Thank you Andy. I’ll get the code and we will get the truth!” I said confidently.

“Good! Good! Now go and remember to stay in the middle. Quickly now!” he said waving me off as I made my way onto the main streets of Chinatown.

Chinatown’s wall to wall advertising and neon lights didn’t quite look as in your face during the day and the whole place seemed a bit more relaxed. The Tek Shops, Boutiques and Digital Funfair were all busy with activity as all kinds of crazily dressed fair-goers strolled around, some looking worse for wear following the night before. The Bang-Hai Industries Telecon building was at the top end of the street in an old run down building near the Monkey King Temple.

As I entered 2 customers seemed to be mid-debate with the man who was sat on the front desk and other angry voices could be heard from an adjoining office. Along the back wall were a wall of customer service desks where various annoyed customers waved pieces of paper angrily at the representatives. The door swung open from the side office and 3 people ran out scampering for the buildings exit “FUCK OFF THE LOT OF YOU AND DON’T COME BACK!” shouted a greasy looking man in a shirt and tie before retreating back into his office and slamming the door. Going for the least threatening route I joined the queue for the customer service kiosks.

“Do I know you friend?” I asked the lady at the window when it was my turn, confident that this would progress my situation somehow.

“I don’t think we’ve met, no.” she said looking at me as if I was trying to pick her up.

“Oh… okay. You just looked familiar.” I said trying to cover for myself inadequately.

“So… can I help you? Did you want to make a complaint?”

“Yes. I’d like to make a complaint!” I said thinking it was the only course of action to save face.

“Then just take this form, fill it in.” she said handing over the form with a surprisingly warm smile given the arguments other customers seemed to be having.

I went and sat at a nearby desk to fill out the form. Coming up with a list of grievances regarding the state of the communications links was easy given the fact I had been struggling to get a signal since I had arrived in town and the public phones about town all seemed to be dead as well. I wondered… could it be a deliberate communications blackout to quash the progress of any resistance or were Bang-Hai Telecon really just inept? Frustrated I scribbled down my complaints on the form thinking that I might as well now I was there. While I did so I managed to go through about three different pencils as each one seemed to break in turn. Another complaint to add to the form I guessed, trying to jot it down before another faulty pencil snapped.

Once I had completed the form I handed it back to the lady at the kiosk who diligently signed and stamped it before handing it back to me and advising that it was to be deposited in the letterbox out the front. I followed her instructions but as I stood outside peering through the glass, watching the complaint-o-matic at work, I resigned myself to the fact that the representatives perceived helpfulness was just a ruse. There I understood the real value of our opinions to Bang-Hai as I watched my letter fall straight into a shredder.

Bang-Hai prided itself on wanting to hear about our lives and thoughts and dreams across all their media platforms…. However both that and the entire corporation was just a facade. They didn’t give a shit about anything we had to say; all they wanted were our souls.

Knowing I couldn’t leave empty handed I went back inside, even if I had to face the shouty man I would come out with something!

I approached the front desk and spoke to the man on reception and tried again. “Do I know you friend?” I asked.

“Ahhh…. I’m not really in the loop with the whole thing, sorry. The guy you need to talk to has gone out for a short while. But…. I think he was meant to give you… this. It’s some kind of code?” he said fishing under the desk and handing me a small USB Drive.

“Ohh… thank you very much. Much appreciated.” I said examining it “And you don’t need this?” I said holding the phone battery with the code out to the man.

“Erm. No thanks. You can keep it.” he said looking at it puzzled.

“Oh okay...thanks. Have a great day!” I said thinking that had been probably tons easier than it should have been. Telecon was clearly falling short on the Data Protection front as well and I walked out with the data I needed safely in my pocket.

When I arrived back at the Tech Repair Kiosk, Andy Roid was there to greet me at the window. His partner was seemed to be absent and likely off on a mission of his own.

“I’ve managed to retrieve this from Telecon.” I said subtly sliding him the USB stick making sure no one could see “Apparently it’s got more code on it for you.  I don’t know if it’s of any use?”

“We’ve gotta wait for 3 more of these and but for now we can send you somewhere else. Are you up for it?” Andy asked me.

“I’m definitely up for it! Ready to go!” I said enthusiastically.

“Have you heard about The Scientist?”

“The Scientist? That guy from District 5?” I said wondering if he meant the infamous Dr. Benway, Mob Boss Muuti’s lead scientific expert.

“No, you need to go and find the Mad Scientist of Barrio Loco. And I need you to take this.” said Andy handing me what looked like a cassette tape.

“The info is on here? Or it’s got some kind of virus on it?” I said puzzled by the rather oldskool media form wondering if it was going to load up in some kind of ZX Spectrum,

“It’s not about what’s on the cassette tape. It’s more about what’s in these numbers here” Andy said pointing at the label on the tape indicating a short series of numbers “So anyone that finds it will just think it’s a music tape. We’re getting very close now. Take this to Barrio Loco, there’s a Pop Art Shop, go in there and you should find this Mad Scientist.”

So a short time later I found myself waiting in an Art Shop in the vibrant neighborhood of Barrio Loco stood with two men who were dressed as pigs. The store was attended by a couple of workers who located themselves behind the shop counter, both of whom looked rather out of place in the establishment. They did however confirm that I was indeed in the right place and that The Scientist could indeed help me on my quest. He was was currently dealing with a few other people however so I could be waiting a while.

The shop was quite busy and the wait was indeed very long but I entertained myself by discussing the impressive pieces of art with their creator who was hanging around by the front. On further illumination and examination the majority of the artwork seemed to follow an anti-establishment theme of uprising which did seem a suitable but not very subtle front for the outfit. The rest of the time I spent bopping around to the nearby sounds of the 24 Hour Garage Girls who were throwing one of their famous street parties nearby, and discussing the latest news and events with the two little pigs.

Eventually one of the shops attendants came in from the back door behind the counter to let me know that The Scientist was able to see me now. I climbed the steps over the counter and through the small door at the back of the shop. The room I entered seemed to be a laboratory full of beakers, flasks and tech. The only lighting in the blacked out room seemed to be from a selection of UV lights which illuminated the trippy glowing decorations. The Scientist himself was kitted out as expected in his long white lab coat and goggles and he seemed unperturbed by my arrival.

“Good afternoon friend.” I began “I’ve been sent to find you by Andy Roid. He said you might be able to help us.”

“I've been trying to phone Andy for 2 days now but haven’t been able to get through to him. I’m glad to hear he is okay.” said The Scientist.

“I know the phone signal is terrible. Bang- Hai has put up all these aerials and dishes and I still can't get a signal!” I said still annoyed with the service that the Telecon Company had been providing.

“Bang-Hai are not what they claim. They are built on greed.”

“I know, something about them just isn't right and we need to get to the bottom of it.” I agreed.

“We need to put a stop to the constant oppression. The head of Bang-Hai is not what he seems to be.” said The Scientist.

“Do you mean Rothschild?” I asked.

“Yes. We must bring his system down and stop the corruption.”

“Andy sent me over here from the Kiosk with this tape.” I said handing over the cassette. I explained to him that the number sequence should be the key to decoding additional data. Taking it from me he put the tape under his magnifying glass and examined in closely.

“Ah yes, I see. Yes, this is excellent. The code we have gathered already does indeed seem to be from the future. In order to gather the final bit of data we require, we will have to go into the future and retrieve it from the mainframe itself. You will need to go to District 5, which is itself the future of Boomtown. A mob boss rules there.”

“You mean Muuti?” I asked having met the cyborg mobster previously.

“Yes. Have you met him?” asked The Scientist surprised I knew of him.

“I have but that was at a previous Fair, not in this version of the future.”

“He's a little shady but he can help us with a backdoor into the mainframe. When he asks you what kind of world you want you need to say ‘A world without Masters.’ He will try and distract you by sending you to a Virtual Pleasure World. Go into it but don't look straight at it. Turn the opposite way and follow the green hacker symbols.”

“Like this one?” I said showing him the hacker symbol I had been given at the Town Hall.

“Yes, that’s it. Follow the symbols in the opposite direction and upload the virus into the mainframe. Remember once you are in, look behind you and make a note of any numbers you might see. Once you have done this then let Andy know.”

“I will do so. Thank you very much.”

“Now all I need to you to do is to sit in this chair here and I can begin the procedure to send you to the future.” he said indicating an odd looking seat that was surrounded by electronic equipment.

What happened next is still hazy to me but I seem to recall switches were flicked, buttons were pressed, lights flashed in front of my eyes and there was smoke, lots of smoke.

“Welcome to the future!” I heard The Scientist’s voice say “Once you leave these doors you will find you have jumped forwards in time and are indeed in the distant future. I wish you the best of luck! And remember.... a world without masters!"

The Year 2122

I arrived through the mists of time into Boomtown’s future and found myself on the outskirts of Dstrkt 5 in the year 2122. The buildings were in poor repair and it looked like the area had been in steady decline since the departure of the alien spaceship Arcadia all those years ago. The aliens had left not only advanced technology but a whole series of diseases and viruses that had literally plagued the people. Technological advancement had sadly taken a toll on both the human race and the environment in this time. Atop of an old scrap metal tower in the centre of the district stood the last tree in existence. Oxygen and fresh air was at a premium and not everyone could afford it. The people were clearly desperate and struggling to survive in these dystopian remnants of society. The town’s population seemed to consist of mutants, cyborgs, aliens and thrillseekers come to dance and fuck through the last gasping breaths of humanity. After oxygen and technology, the other main commodity that seemed to have survived was sex. From the brothels to the the latest Sex Robots being churned out by the Robotika Factory, man found his baser instincts were one of the few things that could survive out on these streets. All the while the cold shadow of the nearby Bang-Hai Towers still loomed over Boomtown.

I knew Muuti’s office from previous visits so despite the low key abandoned shop facade I knew where I needed to get to. A queue had formed outside as various denizens and visitors to the district were hoping to petition Muuti for one thing or another. Despite the power wielded by Bang-Hai, when it came to it, on the ground at Dstrkt 5, Muuti was the person you came to. Nothing happened in the district that he was not aware of. His henchmen guarded the door, managing the crowd and staring down anyone that approached.  Every so often the door to the office would open and a single person would be ushered inside. Most would end up being unceremoniously thrown out after a short while having angered the mob boss. Very occasionally though a citizen would disappear completely never to re-emerge. Muuti could be a great ally but it seemed he could prove to be an even greater enemy if you got on the wrong side of him.

At what seemed like an age I arrived at the front of the queue and I became very aware of my weapon holstered on my belt as I eyed up the massive assault weapons that the bouncers were wielding. I had not come unprepared and had brought with me all the future tech I could muster for this venture including tools and the latest in futuristic eyewear. The woman in front of me was giving me a deathly stare and I was glad to have the glasses to at least partially hide behind. Her jaw and mouth were obscured by some kind of cybernetic mask that probably doubled up as some kind of air filter so she wasn’t breathing the same poisoned air I was currently having to deal with.

Eventually our staring match came to an end as the door opened and I was beckoned in by another armed woman. I stepped inside into a short dark corridor which then opened up into the familiar well furnished office of the mob boss. This time however the room seemed to be brimming with a large assortment of plants. The air seemed rich with oxygen and fresh air and I took a deep breath. Muuti sat in his throne like chair behind a large desk. The tension felt like I had entered the headmaster’s office…. if the headmaster had guns and an inclination to vaporise people.

The cyborg henchwoman who had brought me in was now pointing a laser blaster at my head “Arms up!” she commanded and I reached for the skies. I volunteered that she take my Anti-Time Blaster I was armed with to show my good will. Going into Muuti’s den with guns blazing would only get me killed and possibly mulched into Soylent Green.  “Any blades on you?” she asked.

“None, just this screwdriver.” I said nodding to indicate the device attached to the other side of my belt.

“Sonic?” she asked me. I nodded in reply. “Yeah, take it off.” she confirmed. I reached down carefully and safely unclipped the screwdriver handing it over to her. She also had me remove my cyber-eyewear stating she needed to see my eyes. I removed the glasses and powered them down looking her straight into her own eyes. Her own eyes were definitely not her originals but cybernetic replacements. She brought out a scanning device and began searching me for any additional weapons or devices I may have stashed on me.

“Do you know where you are?” she asked me.

“Muuti’s office.” I replied.

“It is. When you’re in Muuti’s office you play by Muuti’s rules. You do what Muuti says. You answer his questions. You don’t piss about otherwise you don’t keep your head attached.” she said in a cold harsh fashion.

“Understood.” I nodded affirmingly as she finished her search of me.

“He’s clean.” the henchwoman told her boss, taking my equipment over and place it on the far side of his desk before indicating for me to take my place in front of the desk.

“Good evening sir.” I greeted him as he looked me up and down with disdain before turning his attention to my sonic screwdriver which he picked up for a closer inspection.

“Nice to meet you again.” I said warmly.

“Sit down.” commanded Muuti.

I walked forwards and took my seat. As I sat down I felt like I has shrunk as Muuti loomed over me from his chair. “It’s been a while” I said.

“I’m a very very busy man. I can’t remember everyone that comes through here...” he said in his usual gruff voice.

“It’s okay, you get a lot of people through…” I began before I realised that due to the time travel I wasn’t actually saw how long it was since I had seen him.

“You keep on interrupting me I’ll definitely throw you out! You understand?? Now sit back please and answer my questions.” he said annoyed “I ain’t got a lot so don’t interrupt. What you ‘ere for?”

“I was sent by Andy Roid and The Scientist to try and obtain more code and hack into the mainframe.” I explained as the henchwoman played with the settings of my Sonic Screwdriver curiously.

“Well that is very honest of you and very up front. But you know who I am?”

“I know who you are.” I replied “You have a reputation. Firm but fair.”

“Is that who I am??” asked Muuti.

“Only you really know who you are.”

“Oh this is getting very fucking philosophical isn’t it??” Muuti said rolling his remaining human eye at me.

“You’re the boss of The District.” I said getting down to the basics.

“Oh there we go. That’s a bit more real isn’t it. Now you giving me facts and not a bunch of suggestions of me being whoever the fuck you want me to be.” he said in an intimidating tone. This did not seem to be going well so far. “I am a district leader. District 5. You know, I run this town. I run this district! I make sure everyone’s safe. I make sure no law enforcement, no government officials, tamper with my social control.” he said before pausing thoughtfully and then staring at me as if he was waiting.

“Understood.”  I said trying to sound confident.

“I protect everybody. I keep everyone safe.” he continued “I like it and all our population likes it. Of course, in our district, not much air to breathe.” he points to his collection of plants “I can jar that and give as much as I want, and I do generously do that for my population. There’s also not many plants apart from my specimens that you see around you.”

“An excellent collection” I said admiring the rich foliage.

“And there’s definitely no animals.” He continued. “So there’s no food. I control that as well. So you’ve come to me, to ask for my services. But what can you actually offer and provide for me?” he asks.

“What is is you want?” I enquired.

“What have you got that I might need?” he asked.

“Oxygen?” I asked… if I went back in time again I could probably manage to bottle a good deal of air from the various forests of Boomtown.

“Oxygen? I’ve got it.” he said in a cocky and unimpressed fashion.

“Well…” I pondered “I’ve got Data.”

“You’ve got data have you? What kind of data ‘ave you got?”

“Future Code” I declared

“Future Code! What could the future code be for?”

“That’s what we’re trying to look into. We were told you could help us.”

“Okay. Let’s just restart. I’m gonna ask you a question. It’s a bit off the beaten track but answer it truthfully and honestly. And don’t deep think about it.”

“Okay, go ahead.” I said prepared for what was coming.

“What is the most pleasurable experience you’ve ever had?” he asked me.

I took a deep breath and pretended to think about it “Virtual Reality?” I said

“Virrrrtual Reality.” he said “That’s absolutely nothing compared to what I’ve been working on.”

“Really?” I said intrigued

The henchwoman continued to play with the sonic screwdriver as we spoke inspecting it closely as Muuti continued “Now it feels to me you have two options in your life.” he continued “You surrender to your pre-ordained destiny… or you stand up and you evolve! So what future is it you actually desire?”

“A world without masters” I said confidently hoping he would buy it, although in my heart my loyalty still lay with Comrade José.

“A world without masters?” he said clapping his hands in congratulations “Now we’re getting somewhere! However….if I give you this chance are you prepared to go through the rabbit hole? And you must fully understand….once you’ve gone through there’s absolutely no turning back. You will never return! Are we prepared to make that commitment?”

“I’m ready for that!” I said with determination.

“You’re ready for that? Well please… follow my assistant.”.

“Take your gun.” the henchwoman said handing me back my sidearm “You’ll need it.”

“Thank you.Your help is much appreciated.” I said to the both of them as I retrieved the rest of my equipment.

Muuti’s assistant pointed me to a strange hatch low down in the wall which lead into darkness. I got on my hands and knees and crawled through the unlit tunnel. Muuti had told me I couldn’t turn back but I remembered The Scientist’s words and looked behind me as the hatch closed up. I was looking for some kind of numbers that would be my next clue but in the darkness I was no longer able to see. I was about to reach for my torch when I emerged from the tunnel into some kind of waiting room. At a desk sat a strange woman with three faces dressed in white who sat at some kind of reception desk. Was this part of the simulation? Had I entered a new dimension completely? I wasn’t entirely sure. The room was adorned with various inkblot tests on it’s walls and had sets of chairs lining the walls. There was a small side table where one would expect to see a pile of magazines but the room seemed surprisingly blank with it’s white walls as if it were the waiting room for the afterlife. A soundscape of ethereal noise seemed to fill the air as if echoes of angels reverberated to the sound of crystal resonance.

“Welcome to Doctor Benway’s office.” said the three-faced woman “Do you have an appointment?”

“Errr… As far as I’m aware…” I said “Muuti has sent me.”

“Excellent. You can take a seat and fill out this form. Bring it back to me when you are done.” she said handing me a clipboard. Taking the forms from her I claimed one of the seats which were all currently vacant leaving just me and the three-faced woman in the room. She sat at her desk sifting through a pile of documents at her desk as if she was looking for something in particular. The form seemed to be a medical disclaimer for undergoing some form of surgery for a cybernetic upgrade. Given the fact I had already had cranial implant installed by The Bodyshop technicians 2 years previous this did not worry me though. In fact my implant had seemed to have been malfunctioning since and could definitely do with a round of maintenance.

Once I had finished filling out the form form I took it over to the desk and handed it over to the mysterious woman.

“Okay Jonny, you will need a number.” she said indicating a ticket dispensing machine on the wall. I pulled a ticket from the machine and looked at it.  

“And what number are you, Jonny?” she asked me,

“36” I replied waving my ticket.

“Okay, just sit down there.” she said to me as I sat back down clutching my ticket. I wondered if I really was the 36th person to have gone through the rabbit hole. And of those 36 people had any successfully made it into the mainframe? There was still plenty of opportunity for failure at this point in the mission.

“Can you see what’s in front of you there?” the three-faced woman asked me indicating to a series of inkblot tests on the wall ahead of me.

“Patterns.” I replied keeping it vague for now.

“Have you seen something like this before?”

“I’ve seen them in the Wild West’s Asylum.” I said remembering the doctor’s office there.

“It is the Rorschach test. It tests your personality and your brain. Which one are you most drawn to, Jonny?”

We slowly went through the patterns with her asking what I associated each one with. She advised me to say what came into my mind first each time.

A butterfly, flying free.

A plant, bringing oxygen.

Speckled Frogs (sat on speckled logs).

Two Gymnasts flying through the air.

And a couple of  robots victoriously high-fiving.

“I see. And why have you been sent here Jonny?” she asked making notes on the paperwork as we talked.

“To get more code and hack the mainframe”

“Who sent you?”

“The Scientist and Andy Roid” I said keeping to the basics. The sounds in the room were growing louder and louder. A rumble of bass trembled through the floor and my ears struggled to hear over a growing cacophony of sound that seemed to emanate from the very walls.

“And you were with the Revolution last year?” she said asking the exact question I had been avoiding all weekend.

“Well, not quite. I was drafted into the military before the regime fell.” I replied keeping it as vague as I felt I could.

I remembered back to that golden age of Boomtown and my loyalty to Comrade José. Both were long gone now though and it seemed increasingly possible that Bang-Hai Industries that had caused this.

As if she was following my train of thought she then asked a follow up question “And have you heard of Bang-Hai?”

“I have.”

“What is your observations about what is going on?” she inquired continuing to check through the paperwork making notes.

“I feel that things are just getting worse, worse and worse. Something needs to be done.” I declared

“What do you think needs to be done?” she asked me.

“We need to overthrow this corporation, get rid of it.”

“You think we can have a future without leaders?” she asked.

“A world without masters!” I replied in my most convincing voice knowing this was a crucial point.

“What do you think your responsibility will be in that world?” she continued.

“Looking out for all the citizens of Boomtown?” I pondered out loud.

“As a Warden? A Safety Officer?”

“In whichever way I can help.” I said as the cacophony of sound seemed to increase again. It was as if cymbals were clashing or a great steam powered industrial machine was crashing through it’s motions. I struggled to hear the follow up question and had to shuffle closer and get her to repeat herself.

“Does destruction seem to follow you around?” she asked.

I thought back to the events previous, the battles of the revolution and beyond. “I’m afraid so. I saw the districts burn last year. I’m not sure if it was necessary or not, we don’t seem to have got anywhere.” silently I cursed the masked revolutionaries. They said they had wanted to make things better but things were now worse than ever.

“You agree with violence?” she asked.

“Well violence hasn’t solved it, we need a different kind of revolution.” I declared.

“How would you police this new world?”

“I hope everyone could police each other.”

“For who’s benefit?”

“For the benefit of Boomtown and the world as a whole.”

She paused before asking “And what do you do Jonny?”

“At the moment I’m a mercenary, which is how I ended up in the military and how I had previously done  work for Muuti.”

“It is nice that you are loyal.” she said without emotion. I wasn’t sure if she was congratulating me for helping out Muuti or condemning me for my mercenary work.

“What would you say are the gifts that Muuti gives you?”

“So far he’s given me this cortical implant but unfortunately it seems to be faulty now and is in need of repair.” I said rubbing the back of my neck where some of the cybernetics had been imbedded previously.

“What is your goal?” she asked me.

“Hopefully to save Boomtown.” I declared.

“Have you been to the bank?”

“Yes, to exchange money from the previous years. They gave us a terrible rate, especially on the Downtown money. They said the Downtown money was worthless. They wouldn’t even give me anything for Muuti’s dollars.”

“Terrible. Yes they are used to doing things their way. How does that make you feel?”

“Disappointed at the time but at the end of the day the money doesn’t mean anything. It’s almost like the Oxygen is the currency here and now. Just the one tree outside in the square, it’s a shame. If only we could have done something to prevent it. I hope we can do something in the past to fix the future.” I said as if in conclusion.

“While we are here, we will explore what the future holds for us.” she said before a momentary pause as she scribbled something on the bottom of my form.

“Now… I have some information for you.” she said beckoning me over.  “When you go to see the Doctor he will give you two ways to go, take the option that seems harder to you and you will have an opportunity to overthrow the entire mainframe. When you are presented with the headset there are two paths you may take, one is going forward and although it may seem counteractive, if you turn round 180 degrees, you should see this symbol.” she explains pointing at the now familiar symbol on a paper on her clipboard “This is the hacker symbol and it is the opportunity to take over. The doctor will see you now, good luck!”

Feeling like I had won over a new ally already, I thanked the three-faced woman and made my way out through the only door in the room, the way I came in now being closed to me. I walked through some sheets of plastic and emerged in a laboratory. The room was full of scientific equipment of various sorts and the beeps and chirps of computer banks could be heard. The walls were coated with a plastic membrane and the room was lit by a series of white lights that adorned the wall. On the far side of the room were two built up enclosures, each with a VR headset by it.

Standing in the laboratory was a crazed looking mustachioed gentleman with longish hair who was wearing a long white double breasted lab coat, black rubber gloves, and large dark lensed laboratory goggles. Straight away I recognised him as the one and only infamous Doctor Benway. He was accompanied by one of Muuti’s cybernetically enhanced minions who seemed to be fulfilling the role of lab assistant.

“Hello. Good evening.” I said entering the laboratory.

“Please remove anything from him that might interfere with the equipment.” said Benway to his lab assistant “Thank you, your effects will be kept safe.” he advised me as I removed all my tech and my hat onto a small metal tray the woman brought over.

“You need to drink this. Please tilt your head back as I put this in your mouth.” he took a test tube from one of the racks in the laboratory that contained some kind of blue liquid and poured it into my mouth. It definitely tasted artificial but I couldn’t quite identify the contents. “Very good” he continued “Swallow it back for me.”

The doctor examined various scientific instruments in the room and then peered back at me “That’s perfect.” he mumbled.

Next he then proceeded to go through various reflex and reaction tests with me, making a few notes to himself as he did so.

“I have had a cybernetic implant previously, will that affect things at all?” I asked concerned.

“I will only know at the end of this.” he replied. “My name is Doctor Benway. In a moment we will ask you to stand inside the cage here, a headset will be place upon you and you will enter a virtual world. It’s fully immersive and three dimensional which means you will be able to look all around you and experience everything that’s going on. Your first job once the headset has been placed upon you is to look for this symbol.” he pointed to a hacker symbol on the wall for me “It’s very important, you just need to look at this for a few seconds; this is the key, this is the gateway, this is the entrance to your experience. Do you understand?” he asked me.

“I understand” I acknowledged

“At the end of your experience, when everything comes to a stop, have a little look around, there should be a little message instructing you to remove the headset. This is your queue… to remove the headset! Do you understand?”

“Ah yes. That is rather cunning!” I said.

“Please enter the cage.” said Benway indicating to the enclosures on the other side of the room. I ducked under the safety bars and stood in the middle. The doctor’s then came over to me and placed the VR headset on me and adjusted the straps.

Darkness turned into light as I was transported into the Virtual World. I found myself in a long tripped out patterned tunnel. A friendly feminine voice welcomed me as I looked around to get my bearings. Ahead of me was a red version of the hackers symbol. I turned myself around and sure enough floating behind me was the green symbol. I stared at as the headset finished it’s configurations and we were off speeding down the tunnels of this information superhighway. I flew through tunnel after tunnel chasing the green hacker symbol, deeper and deeper into the system. At every turn Bang-Hai Industries tried to distract me from my mission throwing adverts and pop ups at me, trying to lure me down the wrong paths. All I had to remember was to ignore the red symbols, follow the green symbols and keep myself focused. At each checkpoint a timer was displayed on the screen counting down the seconds I had left, each time I hit a checkpoint I would gain more time, but had to keep going at top speed to get from point to point. All the while I heard a voice very quietly in my ear, encouraging me, advising and guiding me. But this was not the voice of Benway or his assistant but someone who was directing me from inside the system. I was unsure if this was AI or one of the new revolution guiding me but either way it was good to have a friend and ally with me. Meanwhile in the real world I felt someone take my arm and hold it out in front of me before injecting me with something. The metal felt cold but not unexpected given that I was expecting some kind of cybernetic upgrade to be taking place. In the virtual world I rushed and flew through tunnel after tunnel, turn after turn, chasing the green symbols and making sure I didn’t go the wrong way.

Eventually I managed to find my way to what looked like a physical computer terminal. A window popped up asking if I wanted to upload the virus into the mainframe. I clicked okay and the upload began, the security system tried to counter it but it was too late. The virus finished it’s upload and the entire system began to glitch out. The voice in my ear congratulated me saying my mission was now complete and a message popped up in front of me saying the hack would be fully activated on sunday at Bang-Hai Towers at 23:45.

The message advising me to take off my headset then popped up and I carefully removed it.

“Thank you.” I said to the doctor and his assistant “The mission was successful. Your help has been much appreciated.”

“Keep right there please. Please try to keep your eyes open; I’m going to shine this light into them, it’s going to be very difficult. Ah yes….that’s very good. That’s wonderful. It’s definitely taking effect.” he said as he shined the light straight into my eyes. “Can you tell me what your name is?” he asked.

“Jonny”

“Congratulations, Jonny! You have been specially chosen. You are now being upgraded. When you entered the room you were given a small amount of blue liquid. Do you remember? You may have felt me administer an injection. You now have nanobots, tiny little robots coursing through your veins, fusing to your central nervous system, flowing down your neural pathways. Do you feel that?”

“I can feel them coursing! Coursing through my veins!” I said.

“That’s wonderful! They are upgrading you. There’s a few procedures we need to go through to make sure this is happening. What I want you to do is just raise your hand up like this in front of you. That’s it, arm in the air, the hand down. I want you to focus on your hand. As those nanobots are integrating into your subconsciousness. If Jonny’s subconscious is willing to have this experience this hand is going to move. It’s going to move. That’s wonderful. Now Jonny I don’t want you to move it yourself, I don’t want you to resist any movements either. Let the nanobots take full control. I want that hand to move. It might just be a finger twitching but it will move.”

My fingers began to separate slowly as I held my arm out in front of me following each and every instruction.

“That’s very good! The little finger’s going there and the fingers are starting to seperate. That’s fantastic, you’re doing this perfectly. And now the hand’s going to turn towards the face as those nanobots take full control of the nervous system. That is wonderful, isn’t that a bizarre experience. And then you’ll notice the hand starts to move towards the face and as it does, it will get quite close, it will make contact and then the eyes will close.” as he finished he clicked his fingers, my eyes were closed and everything was darkness.

The doctor had a very serene, reassuring and calming voice, almost hypnotic in nature in fact….very hypnotic.

“Now, the subconscious is being rebooted” he continued “It’s nothing to worry about, it’s normal. You will be fully aware and able to hear what I am saying. When I count to three I will snap my fingers, your hand will drop down, by your side, your eyes will open and you’re going to feel 10 times more wonderful than you did when you entered this room. One, two, three.”

“AAAAYYY!” I said grinning like an idiot.

“Are you feeling good?” he asked smiling

“I’m feeling good! Are you feeling good?” I said euphorically.

“I am feeling wonderful. I think everyone in here feels wonderful! We’ve all been upgraded! Are you willing to have an experience you haven’t had before? We will see what upgrade you have been given.” he said checking his notes and equipment.

“You have been given one of my favorite upgrades. Do you understand the word Psychokinesis?” he asked me.

“Moving stuff with your mind?” I said unsure if I recalled correctly or not.

“Very good! That’s wonderful. Do you want to try this out?” he asked.

“I’d like to give that a go.” I replied.

“Okay, we can only start with small things for now but as you go over time, over the next few days you will get better and better at this. We will start with something small. First of all can you take a step back please?” he asked.

I stepped back as far as I could towards the rear safety rail of the construct.

“Okay. I’ve got this pen.” he said picking one up from his work bench. “I’m going to place this pen on the shelf here.” he said resting it on the flat safety rail in front of me. “Jonny, what I want you to do is I want you to look at the pen. I want you to really believe that you have the power to reach out in your mind, to move the pen, believe you can do it. Say in your mind ‘Pen move! Move pen!’ almost like you’re going to reach out and touch it and move the pen but you’re not going to use your body, you’re only going to use your mind! Say ‘Move Pen! and as those nanobots integrate into your system that pen will begin to move. Say move pen! Move pen! Tell the pen!”

“Move pen, go on move, do a little move.” I whispered at it willing it with all my might “Move pen. Move pen! Come on you can do it.” I encouraged the object when all of a sudden the pen wobbled and fell over the edge making a cracking noise as it hit the floor. “WHOAH! When I was least expecting it!” I exclaimed impressed by my new ability.

“Wonderful! Usually the pen just moves a little bit, you managed to make it fall off the edge. That’s wonderful Jonny!” said Doctor Benway very pleased at the results of his experiment.

“As soon as I stopped thinking about it, it happened!” I said happily.

“Now look at your hand, really focus on that hand and as the hand starts to move closer, the changing focus of the eyes and as it reaches your face it makes contact and it brings your eyes to close.”

The darkness enveloped me once more.

“I want you to listen carefully to me Jonny.” started Benway “Today when you leave this lab you are going to feel better than you’ve ever felt in your whole life. You will be the best version of you, that there has ever been. You will be more confident. You will be more chatty. The music will sound better, the colours will be brighter! You will feel so wonderful as each minute passes, more and more wonderful and all you will be able to think about is your experience here and if anyone asks you about your experiences here you will tell them what an incredible time you had and how important this was in your life as you feel better now then you have ever done in your whole life! And then you will say ‘I am District 5. I am for Muuti.’ Now when I count to three and click my fingers you will be wide awake. Your eyes will open and your arms will drop to your side and you are going to feel so incredibly wonderful, your going smile at me and we’re all going to feel better. One, two, three.”

And with a click of Benway’s fingers I opened my eyes speaking the words “I am District 5. I am for Muuti.”

“Jonny! Congratulations! You are fully upgraded!” declared Doctor Benway before turning to his assistant. “He’s ready to go.” he said to her and she began to prepare for my release back into society.

With my new re-purposing I would spend a good bit of time in the future of Dstrkt 5. From the busy Spaceport to the Sewage Workz I took it all in. People raved in the streets as they tried to forget their troubles. Even in the Robotika factory’s shipping yard the party raged on to the futuristic sounds of drum, bass and dubstep which reverberated the metal containers that lined the area. While I took in this auditory experience, I was pleased to run into my friends, Cait and Badjah, who were visiting the district to take part in this end of world dance. Up on the platform in front of the factory proper, performed the likes of the legendary Aphrodite and Caspa of the Dub Police to mark this apocalyptic dance experience.

Probably the most curious thing of all in this time however was hidden behind the toilets. At the back of the main loos was a very uniquely decorated ‘Portal-Loo’ - And if you thought the queues for the normal bogs were long, this one left them to shame. Curiosity got the better of me; the general rule of the Boomtown Fair seemed to be that if there’s a queue, it’s worth queuing for. A sign outside read ‘Virtual Reality Peep Show’ and following my flight around the mainframe this was something that definitely peaked my interest. Rumor was that inside a pocket dimension through the portal was a secret members club where the dethroned elite were hidden among some of the most decadent settings in the galaxy.

The queue was being patrolled and managed by two women in elaborate outfits who were covered in far out face and body paints, who said they were aliens visiting from another dimension. I managed to get chatting with a blue haired one about the state of the district and about the Portaloo itself.

“Muuti's VR is shit compared to ours.” she told me, which is an interesting thing to say by someone who’s VR system is inside a toilet.  “You’ve experienced nothing like this before. Anyway, Muuti is nothing but a bastard.” she continued “He's stealing all the air from District 5 and selling it back to us for his own profit. He cares nothing about the rest of us.”

“I am District 5. I am for Muuti.” I thought to myself as the words seemed to echo in my mind. I felt inclined to argue with her but as I wanted to get inside so I saw fit to remain tight lipped.

After an eternity it was my turn to use the loo. It was a good thing I wasn’t desperate! I took my seat upon the plastic throne and one of the women handed me a VR headset which I placed upon my noggin. I found myself flung back into the virtual world and down a shaft of lights and pulsing shapes as if I had arrived in some kind of hyper-lift. I floated out through a grand cityscape of cyberspace tower blocks. The city seemed vast and was full of virtual avatars strolling amongst the buildings. Ahead of me I located some steps which lead down into a multi-level underground club full of digital clubbers. In various places throughout this virtual world I kept coming across signs and billboards that curiously read the same slogan ‘They Sleep. We Live.’ - I pondered the meaning of the saying as I floated around this virtual setting.  I passed through the club and into a small room. Looking down I saw another sign but this one instead stated the words ‘Don’t look down’ but it was too late and I found myself falling down a great pit.

‘GAME OVER’ flashed the message on my headset and I removed it. Once I did so I heard a voice from behind me which asked “What is this password?”

“They Sleep. We Live.” I told the voice.

There was a clunk and the wall behind me disappeared and I was taken through the Portaloo and into the pocket dimension.

The walls of the club glowed in the ultra violet lights and exotic dancers from across the galaxy strutted their stuff upon their podiums. One wall had a series of holes across it which let in light like a field of stars. If you put your eye to them within each was contained it’s own peepshow. The members club itself wasn’t as vast as the virtual club I had arrived through but it was definitely more exclusive. A bar was found near the back and there were various small chairs and tables around the room. After taking in the shows however I found it was getting late (if time existed or not in this dimension) and I had other places I needed to be. Thanking the staff I excused myself and made my way back to my own dimension.

2017

Before I knew it I was back in my own time and having completed my mission I headed back to the Tech Repair Kiosk. When I got there I found that there was no sign of Andy and it had been locked up for the night. A note was affixed to the inside of the window:

‘We had to leave. We had a problem with housekeeping! We need your custom. Please come back tmrw between 1-6PM - FUCK Banghai’

With the rest of my day now free, and the hack not being fully activated till the evening after, I decided it was time to really take in some of the entertainment the Boomtown Fair had to offer.

I made my way up to the Lion’s Den in Trenchtown and sat relaxing on the hill with a tray of Canadian Poutine. I took in the grand sight as the sun set over Ziggy Marley’s performance and I settled in to watch The Specials, for my third helping of ‘Monkey Man’ (having already seen Toots & The Maytals and Reel Big Fish both play it).

This was then followed by the one and only Skindred at the town hall which was just as amazing as I could have imagined as the square turned into one big moshpit. The energy in the city was amazing and the yearly fair seemed to be going well. I had to admit that even the output at Bang-Hai Towers was super impressive with the likes of The Prototypes and Ed Rush rocking the downtown area. I managed to meet up with Badjah and Cait again and we all had a damn good dance.

Meanwhile in Oldtown Bang-Hai Industries had already moved in it’s team of surveyors who were measuring things up against their plans to demolish the neighborhood.  Fights and skirmishes broke out as pirates and angry locals turned up to protest against the destruction of their home. Regardless all around them the party seemed to carry on as if oblivious.

Before bed I decided to sit down in Oldtown myself to watch a puppet show story of how Nikolas Boom had discovered the Lion’s Den Temple back in the day (This is something I’d really like a full video of if someone has one). I wondered to myself were Nikolas Boom might be, was he alive or dead? A mystery for another day. Before I knew it the night had grown old and I settled down back at my home on the hill, looking out across to the ongoing laser light show at Bang-Hai Towers.

“Party on for now Bang-Hai! Because tomorrow, we strike.”

Sunday

It was a beautiful morning in Boomtown and I decided to take a long stroll up to Whistlers Green while I took in the sunshine. At the very peak of Hilltop those that hadn’t overdone it the night before mingled with those that were still up, as they lay on the grass by the large sculpture that overlooked all of downtown. New paths had been routed since I was up here last including a rather pleasant stroll through the woods, the sunbeams streaming through the canopy as a gentle breeze blew through the pages of the books that were suspended from the branches that hung above the way. I emerged from the trees up by the Junkyard Golf course via a beautifully carved archway that had been crafted by the Tree Pirates. The windmills had expanded since the previous year but most of Whistler’s was still very familiar with it’s circles of gypsy caravans and tipis. Arts, crafts and café’s were plentiful up here along with some of the more traditional fringe features. A large group of people gathered out the front of a tent saluting the sun in one of the Fair’s Yoga sessions. Children ran around a Giant Chess set and guitars could be heard strumming on the wind. It was certainly a far cry from the scenes of struggle and corruption that seemed to be prevailing elsewhere in the town. I spent a while pottering about, examining sculptures, art displays and browsing the farmer’s market. As the sun passed mid day however I decided I’d better make my way  down the hill (and the giant steps) in order to give Andy the good news about the mission.

I made it downtown much faster than I had imagined so spent some time just wandering the streets. Over the weekend more and more fly posts had appeared around the town that featured the symbol of the hackers. Some included a mysterious phone number but I still couldn’t manage to get any signal either on my cellphone or from any of the Telecon Booths around town. Accompanying these were the opposing propaganda, wanted posters that were to be found all over the city and across the front page of the Daily Rag featuring citizens that had been found to be associating with the hackers. Big rewards were now being offered for Bang-Hai Industries Most Wanted. Thankfully I had managed to stay under the radar so far but even when I had trolled the staff at Chinatown’s Bang-Hai People Support Office I had managed to stay off the radar so far. Sure, my wristband tracker was on the system but with Andy Roid’s wizardry and tinkering with my phone I seemed to be covered so far.

I got to the Tech Repair Kiosk just after 1pm, checking and making sure no one had followed me. Andy had returned there again by himself and was just settling in for the afternoon. “Good Afternoon Andy.” “Good afternoon. And what can I do for you?” he asked me casually as he looked around making sure no one was listening in. “You told me to return once my mission was complete.” “And is it complete?” he asked. I relayed to him what had happened in Dstrkt 5 and that I had successfully managed to upload the virus into the Bang-Hai Industries mainframe as planned. “Ahhh! My friend! That is really good news! Thank you! Thank you!” he said shaking my hand with a grin on his face. “I was very happy to help.” I said smiling back “Any time you guys need anything.” “The takeover will happen over there somewhere tomorrow.” he said to me nodding at the massive Bang-Hai Towers which stuck up in the sky dwarfing all the other buildings. “Yes. Bang-Hai Towers. Quarter to 12, tonight” I affirmed remembering the information the helping voice had given me within the Virtual World. He thanked me again and with nothing left to do until the evening I went off to have a well deserved relaxing day enjoying the Fair.

And lots of fun was indeed had that afternoon starting with a good ol’ post-mission celebratory cider drinking with The Wurzels in the town centre. They may be getting on a bit but those West Country folk sure know how to party! I sat in the forests for a good while after that taking shade from the sun and sitting in the nice cool sand listening to Kiko Bun performing and watching the shadows of the leaves dancing across the ground. Street parties had broken out across town protesting the Bang-Hai Regeneration Projects, from Mayfair to downtown, unsanctioned events, causing BHi both figurative and literal headaches. I was taking it easy though and Mr. Vegas was definitely another highlight of the day. Vegas was smashing out the dancehall classics as I lay on the hill in Trenchtown. II was really starting to feel the tiredness creeping in from the busy weekend at this point though. I grabbed a drink to perk me up a bit and decided to hit the Mayfair Theatre to take in a show and to watch the sun starting to go down from the balcony there. It seemed the other citizens were feeling the burn as well and as I passed the markets near the helter skelter I saw a group of people lounging around on the grass. One of the group was wearing a long dark hooded trenchcoat. On the back of the garment and near the tip of his hood were sprayed the ancient symbols of Boomtown. I was impressed, the details were very accurate, in fact it was spot on to the badges worn by the Masked Men the year before. He had a bag with him and sported a very long impressive moustache and long scraggly hair. At the time I thought nothing significant of it, just another fairgoer in a great costume I had assumed. Looking back on that moment since however I can’t help but think the man was the spitting image of Nikolas Boom himself the founder of this very city….

I tried to keep it a little civilised for a while and tried to check in to The Park Hotel. My best suit and my passphrase wasn’t of much use however as they said it had now expired for the year and I was too late to use it but should check back again next time I was in town. I stopped a while and listened to the live band on stage and to mingle with the more sophisticated elite of Mayfair. I just couldn’t stop myself from going out to join the partying out on the street though, that was where the real buzz was at this point in the Fair.

Counter agents and bounty hunters were still everywhere, especially with the new Most Wanted List being up everywhere but I found they were easy to avoid now as long as I was careful. I spotted the two from the alleyway climbing the Hippy Highway but managed to stay hidden from view and even track them for a short while myself.

Once darkness hit though I decided that if I was going to hide, I would just hide in plain view. I managed to dig out the brightest outfit I could find complete with flashing lights and raved my way all around the town giddy from my caffeine, rum and general smug sense of achievement. From the UV forests of the Rave Yard to the Tribe of Frog to Downtown, I strutted my stuff and skanked the hell out.

The time flew and eventually it approached the witching hour, the hack was about to go down and the best place to see this was at Bang-Hai Industries very own communications hub at The Towers. I knew a good few of my friends were in the audience to witness the finale of the Fair but the square out the front of the towers were jam packed. I tried hanging round one of the raised platforms on the left hand side where I had bumped into friends on previous nights here but the crowds was so dense it was hopeless.

As Black Sun Empire finished DJing their final tune, the lights dimmed for a moment and the nightly broadcast by Bang-Hai Industries began….but this time it would be with a twist. The grand finale had arrived….

Following my hack of the system and deployment of the virus into the mainframe, all BHi systems had been compromised and we had been able to download all the data we wanted, before they were able to reboot the machine. This meant we were able to take all their dirty little secrets and broadcast them across the city for everyone to see across every TV set and screen.

Bang-Hai Industries had been humiliated and the true depth of their abuses were now public for the world to see. BHi would crumble and the people would rise up empowered by the truth. A world without masters would rise from the ashes of the great corporate machine! Or so we thought….

To be continued….

Back to reality

I would just like to take this opportunity to again thank all the creative team at Boomtown Fair for allowing me to take part and experience this with them. Everyone from the actors to the set designers have done an amazing job and really brought the city and the story to life.

Unfortunately life imitated art and instead of getting a virus into the machine, a couple of months after the Fair, a virus managed to get into my nervous system somehow and I was taken into hospital. It meant lots of injections and tubes but unfortunately not the fun kind Dr. Benway uses. At this point in time (March 2018) I am still not fully recovered and getting my journal written this year has been a long hard slog but one that has kept my mind stimulated and allowed me to relive my adventure (as best as I can recall it now).

I very much hope to make it to Chapter 10 this year so I can continue my adventures but at this time I’m not 100% sure if I will be well enough for my usual antics or even have the money to do so as I am currently unable to work. I remain pretty hopeful though and will count the next few months as training to build my strength back up.

Thank you for reading if you still are and hope to see some of you at Boomtown in 2018!

Epilogue

[thatgirlmkn-prompts]

Misspelling Matters

Word Count: 1295

Prompt: Your daughter has been begging for a pony, and you told her to write a letter to Santa. On Christmas morning, you find a fire-breathing horse in your front yard. Looks like she wrote a letter to Satan, and he delivered.

When you told your daughter to write a letter, you didn’t really think that spelling mistakes mattered.

Now that there’s that thing on your lawn, the spelling mistakes were the only damn thing that mattered.

Waking up to a fire breathing dragon was not your ideal idea of a perfect Christmas morning, that’s for sure.

Lele did a hell of a job writing that damn letter. No pun intended.

When you woke up, you were expecting to see the letter on the table with the milk and cookies that you left out. But instead, you see a pile of ashes, a burnt cookie, and a steaming glass of milk on the dinner table.

Your five year old tugged on your white tee, “Daddy, daddy! Look at the pony outside! Is that for me daddy, is it really for me?”

You couldn't bear to tell Lele no, especially after her damn mother mistreated her for the first year of her life before she was dropped on your doorstep. “Maybe sweetheart. Daddy has to go sort this out, so in the meanwhile can you go play upstairs please?” You prompted your daughter.

“Okay daddy!” She smiled up at you. Because after all, she is and will always be a daddy’s girl.

After you watched her bounce up the stairs, using both hands and feet, you sat at the table and slammed your head down. This was not happening.

You take out your phone and look at the picture you took of the letter last night,

Dear Satan,

My daddy say to rite tis leter to get uh poni, so i wantes to sa PLESE GET ME A PONI PLESE!!! I want hur to be red bcus my dady luves red. PLESE LISEN SATANA! I will luv yu forefer!!!!

-Lele

To you, it was the absolute cutest thing you’ve ever seen. And apparently, it must be up on Satan’s list somewhere if he actually gave Lele the damn horse. You never really believed in God or the Devil, no matter how much your parents had forced Christianity on you when you were younger. But you’d never thought that you would ever come in such close contact with something God has touched, much less the damn Devil.

As you were deep in your thoughts, there was ring at the doorbell. Wary at first, since you weren’t expecting anybody, but considering there was a fire breathing creature in your backyard, a stranger at the door was probably the least of your worries.

When you got to the door, you slowly noticed a warmer air, the doorknob felt hot, and you could detect the heat radiating from the door. Red flags were everywhere, but your burning curiosity was peeking through your soul, so you opened the door. You opened it to see a young woman, her long brown hair was blowing in the windless air, and her beauty was exhilarating. Dressed in all black with a stab of red on her lips, she looked at you and smiled the most disarming smile you’ve seen in a while.

“Hello Dimitri. Have I arrived too late to see my dear Lele encounter her present?”

You looked at her, astonished. Was this actually it? Were you meeting Satan?

“I’m sorry,” you spoke, hiding you quivering fear, “May I ask who you are?”

The woman laughed, “Dimi, I’m one hundred percent sure that you know exactly who I am.”

She then smiled and looked you straight in the eye, and you could’ve sworn her dark brown eyes showed a glint of red, even if it was just for a second.

“Lucifer?” You ask timidly and took a step back in order to shut your door sooner.

Unfortunately, she took that as an invitation into the house, “Exactly.” Satan said with a wink, “I knew your smart Italian brain could handle it.”

She held an outstretched hand, as if she wanted you to shake it, but that’s not possible, why would Satan herself want to sha-

“Hello? It’s a little rude to decline a handshake. Especially with the king of hell.” She scolded me.

You slowly led your hand towards hers. Her hand was hot, but something about her made you hold on for a while.

“I’m sorry,” You voiced after a while, “I’ve never been propositioned for a handshake from Sat-”

She flinched a little, “Please, call me Luci. It’s been a century since I’ve last been called by my formal title.”

“Okay,” You drawled, confused and intrigued. “And why are you at my doorstep this fine Christmas morning, Luci?”

She beamed, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that question.” She walked into the living room and settled on the loveseat. Patting to the spot near her, she looked at you then back at the seat. You wearily sat down next to her, not wanting to go against Sat- Luci’s wishes. “I’m here because, about six years ago, you and I met, actually. We met during a party your business was throwing. One thing led to another and-”

You interrupted her tale with some input, “I get it, we had sex, so what? Don’t you dare fucking tell me that my daughter had Satan’s blood in her.” You stood and started pacing around the room, not being able to stand the thought of your daughter being half devil.

She rose, her eyes now displaying a bright red hue, “I told you not to call me that,” she uttered angrily.

“Well I’m sorry, that I’m a little fucking confused as to who my daughter's mother is,” You borderline shouted, “I thought she was a woman who goes by the name of Lyla, not Lucifer!”

Luci’s eyes calmed down a notch as she spoke softly, but compellingly, “I apologize for not being here the last couple years, but I had business to attend to back in hell.” Her head lowered slowly and she looked at you through her long dark eyelashes, a look Lele used often, “But if you would let me, I would like to spend this year with her before I have to go off and attend to the matters of hell.”

You couldn’t think straight, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could do that to my daughter.”

“You mean our daughter,” Luci clarified.

“No. I raised her for the past four years. You have no right to barge in here, expecting to see Lele and letting her grow attached to you for a year, just to see you leave again after it’s over. I am not going to let that happen. Not to my daughter.” You stood your ground.

As you finished your sentence, the subject of matter poked her head out form the top of the stairs, “Daddy?” Her sweet voice spoke, “I’m done playing, can I play with my present yet?”

“Not yet sweetheart, can you play for five more minutes? Daddy’s almost done,” You answered your daughter.

“Okay daddy!” She went back into her room, you heard the opening of her toy drawer, and you went back to your conversation.

Luci looked at you in awe, “Was that her,” she whispered to you, “She looks so beautiful.”

“I know,” You spoke proudly, “that’s my daughter.”

A tear fell out of Luci’s eye, “Please, let me play with our daughter, even if it only for today.”

And you decided. Even before she asked, you decided the moment you saw your clueless daughter peek her head out, and see Luci, but not ask any questions.

Yes.

Your answer was yes.

“Okay.”

Lucifer’s smile was filled with joy, as she heard. “Thank you, Dimitri.”

You placed a hand on her delicate shoulder, “This isn’t for you Lucifer. This is for Lele,” You say to her. “Everything I do, is for Lele.”

-fin-

[beck-a-leck]

#49 boss/intern for Vishnal/Arthur would be great if thats a pairing you would write for!

Here you are Nonny! Vishnal/Arthur is not a ship I've ever written for, but I'll be damned if it wasn't fun. it's too much fun to play with Vishnal's obvious uh... attraction to authority figures.

I went back and forth a few times on whether I wanted this to be a Modern Office AU or an in-game canon AU where Vishnal gets assigned as Arthur's personal butler.

but I had a little more fun writing the Office AU, so here it is. Lowly employee Vishnal and New Boss Arthur, complete with teasing coworkers.

Ficlet AU Prompts

“Heads up, new boss alert.” Vishnal’s heart gave an unpleasant lurch as his head shot up from the spreadsheet he had been working on to crane over the sea of cubicles. Leon’s warning had been spot-on. There was a small group of important looking people all gathered around what used to be Mr. Volkanon’s office. The office had been cleared out of any of their former manager’s personal effects after his retirement party last Friday, and it looked like someone new was moving in this morning.

Vishnal skimmed the small crowd, wondering who among the besuited bodies was going to be their next manager. Almost all of them were older, at least in their fifties, but there was one younger man amongst them, blond, bespectacled, holding himself rigid and looking nervous with an armful of folders. Vishnal had to sympathize, he hated being the intern lackey dragged along with the higher-ups.

The thought crossed his mind that he should probably get back to work, but he realized he wasn’t the only one in the office scoping out the crowd for their new boss. Actually, the only one among them who appeared to still be diligently working was his other cubicle-mate, Clorica, who had dozed off while staring at her computer screen. Vishnal nudged her awake.

Clorica woke with a small gasp, automatically wiggling her mouse and putting her fingers on the keyboard and typing in a few nonsense characters, proclaiming in a rushed whisper, “I’m working, I’m awake. Wait…” She looked at Vishnal and Leon who was doing his best to hide as a breathy cough. “What’s going on?”

“New boss is in. didn’t think you’d want to miss it.”

“Oh.” Clorica joined the rest of the office in watching the group at the front.

The group was breaking up, several handshakes were exchanged, before one by one they all walked out of the office, leaving a familiar woman and the young intern behind.

Ms. Ventuswill was the general manager of their work group, Mr. Volkanon’s boss. Vishnal frowned slightly, she wasn’t taking over as their manager, was she? That seemed like a demotion for her.

She stepped forward, clearing her throat before saying in her normal, commanding voice, “May I have your attention please?” It was a needless request, she had everyone’s attention already, but she did stop the murmurs that were bubbling up across the office. Ms. Ventuswill smiled at the silence office. “I’ll make this quick, I’m sure you have plenty of work to do today and don’t need any further distractions. I would like to introduce you to your new manager, Mister Arthur Lawrence.”

The young blond man stepped forward and shifted his hold on his folders to offer the office a small wave. “Hello’s, I am really looking forward to working with all of you.” He was much softer spoken than his predecessor. Mr. Volkanon’s booming voice could be heart two floor away if he got into a particular mood. Still, Mr. Lawrence’s voice carried quite clearly all the way to Vishnal’s ears in the furthest cubicle. “I think we can all be a very cohesive team. I hope you won’t mind if I take some of your time today to meet each of you individually, but until then, I’ll let you get back to it.”

At that, Ms. Ventuswill and Mr. Lawrence turned to step into his office, closing the door behind them. Chatter erupted immediately in the office space as cubicle-mates quickly began discussing their new boss. Vishnal’s cubicle was not exempt from that.

“Did you hear that?” Leon demanded, dropping into his chair so he leaned over the back. “His name is Lawrence. You think he’s one of the CEO’s kids?”

Clorica tapped her chin thoughtfully before saying, “Yes, I think he is. I remember seeing him at a couple of the company gatherings.”

Leon scoffed. “Nepotism in its finest.” He propped his chin on the back of his chair and swung around in a slow arc. “So, how do you think he’ll be? Overly familiar, open-door, pushover? Useless and lazy slob? Or a micromanaging tight-ass who’s desperate to impress daddy with his first big boy job?”

“I don’t know, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Vishnal shrugged.

Leon hummed and spun around in a circle. “I bet he micromanages to impress daddy. He gives me that same small-anxious dog vibes that you do, Vis.”

“Hey! I do not micro-manage!”

Clorica snickered. “Only because you’re at the bottom of the food chain, mister color-coded-productivity tracker.”

Vishnal merely huffed and turned back to work. He would have to be more diligent than normal to make sure he got all of his work done with the added distractions today. His productivity tracker kept him organized, damnit, it was useful.

Mr. Lawrence worked through his personal introductions to their office group in order of seniority, it appeared, and Vishnal was the last one to go into his office. It was strange stepping into an office that had, just a few days ago, been covered with Mr. Volkanon’s personal touches – the man had a lot of grandchildren and plenty of pictures of all of them. The walls were still bare, freshly spackled and painted over to make a blank canvas for Mr. Lawrence’s décor of choice. All he had hung so far were two framed degrees, his Bachelor’s and a freshly obtained Master’s, but Vishnal spied a box sitting in a corner that looked like it had some more decorations tucked inside. Mr. Volkanon’s old desk had been replaced, as had his chair, with shiny new counterparts. Mr. Lawrence’s desk was already half covered with a scattering of paperwork and binders.

Vishnal paused in the doorway and knocked to announce his presence.

Mr. Lawrence looked up from the paper he was skimming and smiled, “Yes, come on it.” He walked around the desk and shook Vishnal’s hand. “Vishnal, right? Old Volkanon had nothing but good things to say about you.”

“O-oh, he did?” Vishnal’s brain forgot how to work briefly as he took in Mr. Lawrence. He was much more handsome up close than Vishnal had thought, and young – well, probably older than Vishnal, but still younger than any manager he’d ever known. His brown eyes sparkled, and his classes complimented the shape of his face, his impeccable suit fit him perfectly, cut to properly accentuate his lithe frame. He was vaguely aware that Mr. Lawrence was still speaking, he heard nothing because all him mind was doing was screaming a long, agonized “Ooooh nooo, he’s cute!”

He tuned in just in time to catch, “Go ahead and take a seat, I’d just like to take a minute to get to know you better.”

“Uh, yes Mister Lawrence.” Vishnal hurried to sit in the spare desk chair that had been rolled into the office.

“Please,” Mr. Lawrence tittered wearily, “Just call me Arthur. Mister Lawrence is my father, and I’m not nearly as much a stickler for formalities as he is.”

“Oh, okay, Arthur.” Vishnal liked the way that name rolled off his tongue. His anxiety on the other hand, didn’t quite care for that much informality between him and his new boss, and it was doing a wonderful job keeping a very tight leash on Vishnal’s imagination. Now was not the time to be fantasizing about the things he and his boss might do on this pristine new desk. Nope. Definitely not! To derail that train of thought, Vishnal tried a small joke. “I bet you’ve said that line about a hundred times today, huh?”

“Ninety-seven times, to be exact.” Mr. Law- Arthur smiled back weakly. Vishnal laughed weakly, realizing his joke had been recognized. “Really it’s more for logistics’ sake than anything. With half of my family working in this company, and a good portion of them my brothers, things get a little confusing with a dozen Mister Lawrences running around. That and it makes me feel old.” He shuddered comically and grinned. “I’m not even thirty yet, I can’t be a Mister.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. But I suppose it makes ordering company letter head much easier.”

Arthur laughed, genuinely this time, and it was such an endearing warm sound. “Yes, that it does.” Then the smile fell somewhat and he straightened the papers in front of him. “Now to business, I understand you’re our newest addition to the team. You just started… eight months ago?”

Vishnal somehow managed to keep his wild imagination in check over the next fifteen minutes and carried on an entirely professional conversation with his very cute new boss. How, he wasn’t entirely certain, because he was sure any moment Arthur would notice how flush Vishnal’s cheeks had become or how sweaty he suddenly was, or the nervous stuttering. But he said nothing about it and sent Vishnal back to work with another firm handshake and a smile.

Arthur must have just been polite, because as soon as Vishnal got back to his cubicle Leon called him out immediately. “Ooooh, I know that look. Someone’s got a crush on the new boss.”

“N-no I don’t!”

“But, Vis,” Clorica said, so sweetly and innocently. “Why is your face all red then?” She rolled over and gently poked on of Vishnal’s burning hot cheeks.

“Anxiety. I don’t do well with authority figures. I was nervous.”

His cubicle mates shared knowing looks and diabolical grins. “Uh-huh, sure,” Leon drawled. “A problem with authority figures.”

Vishnal brushed them off and turned back to his work, waking up the computer with a determined wiggle of the mouse. Leon would get bored eventually if he didn’t interact with him, and Clorica would eventually drop the game and get back to her own work. And so what if he had a little crush on their new boss? It was just a crush, perfectly normal and innocent and harmless. Even if his imagination was doing its best to bring up images of what the two of them could do in that office, or in the copy room, or maybe leaving early together on a Friday to go get some drinks…

“Oh look,” Clorica’s gleeful voice chimed in. “Now his ears are red too.”