genessia | 001 | say hello to everything you've left behind

[ ACTION ]

Initially, bleary and only just waking, Shinjiro thought he'd died.

After all, that's what happens when a guy gets shot twice, and then gets to say some pretty cool last words, and then ... dies in the arms of his best friend.

Yeah, that happened. After his mind began to wake, it was the first thing he remembered - the sure, solid knowledge that he had been dying, so, naturally, that must mean he was dead now. Honestly? He was good with that. Shinjiro had meant what he'd said. It was supposed to go down like that, and he was glad he went out doing something, saving someone, rather than ...

A familiar, dry, racking pain seized his lungs, and Shinjiro was forced to his side, clutching the edge of ... whatever he was lying in ... to cough, repeatedly, and unproductively. Like a hundred thousand tiny knives in his throat, that was. Damn it, he hated this, hated what the suppressants were doing to him, hated dying ...

Wait.

Shit.

Shit.

In the back of his mind, in the bottom of what he'd call his soul, he felt a distant, frustrated anger. The feeling of someone denied something, the feeling of someone wanting to be let out, the feeling of wrath and contempt which was all centered on Shinjiro himself.

God-damn-it.

Shinjiro knew he was alive. Somehow, through some magic or feat of science, he was alive.

Coughing spell now past, he shakily rolled onto his back again. Ignoring the box on his chest - setting it to his side for now - he quickly unbuttoned his coat, reached under his turtleneck. His fingers shook, half from the shock of cold, half from disbelief and nerves. There. He had gotten shot, twice, right there, and now beneath his fingertips he could only feel scars. Later, he'd have to get a better look at them, but right now? If he were to judge, he'd say they'd long been healed.

Where the hell was he? When the hell was he? How long had he'd been out?

Calm down, he told himself. No use in working himself up when he didn't know shit and there was nobody to attack. Even if he had a really, really good reason to be worked up and angry. His jaw worked for a moment, grinding his teeth. Castor, within him, shifted; he wanted to be out, as always, and maybe even work out some rage on something which wasn't Shinjiro this time. Well, tough shit.

Breathing deeply, Shinjiro sat up.

... Was this Tartarus?

No, of course not. But that was the first thing Shinjiro's mind reached for, when he registered his weird surroundings. When he got a good look at the damn bed (cocoon?) he had been lying in. What the hell. It wasn't somewhere he knew, either, transformed by the Dark Hour - he knew that instinctively, just as he knew it wasn't Tartarus. The Dark Hour was entirely its own beast, unsettling and wrong and eerie, and no reality would ever replicate it. Plus, if nothing else, the walls weren't bleeding. As they do in, well, anywhere, during the Dark Hour.

So. He wasn't dead. This wasn't during the Dark Hour, and he wasn't anywhere he recognized.

His hand brushed against the box he had hastily set aside earlier. Warily, almost expecting it to ... explode, or something ... he opened it.

***

Some time later, after getting out of the cocoon, after fumbling on the weird necklace (what did it mean real people anyway?), after watching the hologram ...

Shinjiro stood between the arches, not daring to lean up against one.

He tried to think.

***

[ AUDIO ]

[the voice is that of a young man, tone on the low end of tenor. he sounds resigned, almost bored]

Uh. Hey. Other "real" people.

Just how free are these apartments they're givin' us, anyway? What's the catch?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Personally, I consider it the consolation price for having been kidnapped and turned into a lab rat at the whim of unknown, powerful forces. Is that not good enough for you?

[ Wait, what? Nobody mentioned this. Angry, startled: ] Turned into a lab rat?

Do you think this is anything but a huge cage? Just because it's larger and more comfortable than most prisons doesn't make it true.

Tch. [ Trying to cover up earlier unease ] Just cause it's a prison, doesn't mean it's a lab.

There's a big difference between just bein trapped, and being trapped, held down, and experimented on.

So. Nobody told you of the deadly catastrophes that happen regularly?

They kinda left that part out.

What am I in for?

We're trapped within the shields that surrounds the cities, it's keeping us in, but it's also keeping the soul-sucking spirits and other hostile creatures out. Then there's a fair number of local threats, such as terrorist groups trying to poison people, regular magical mishaps requiring large-scale cleanup of demon summons, the fact you don't die permanently here but lose a little part of yourself with every death... You're in for an interesting time.

[ Demons and terrorists and those things which sound like Shadows ]

Right. Great.

So how're we gettin normal people away from that shit?

That's the duty of the City Guardians. They have to make sure that crime, both by the natives and by the kidnapped, doesn't get out of hand.

... Good.

Hearin the types of shit which goes on here, it sounds like things would go to hell pretty quickly without that.

This place is mostly held together by a delicate power balance. Mutually assured destruction, you see. There are people with great powers, but there are so many that no single person or small group can hope to seize and hold power against the others.

Here's hopin, anyway.

Cause the only thing worse than all of 'em working together, is everyone tearin stuff down on their own.

I wouldn't want to see a war between our most powerful citizens, no. Law enforcement has been surprisingly effective in preventing the worst, though as the list of catastrophes I named proves that not every incident can be prevented.

Probably ain't possible to prevent everythin. Not without changin the way people are.

[ He doesn't think he'd want that, either. ]

Or without controlling them so tightly that there is no room left for choice at all. That would be a terrible world. So we're stuck cleaning up.

[ He hums in agreement, and would nod if this was video, rather than audio ]

Least you've gotta realistic view of the way things are.

Nobody's going to accuse me of being overly optimistic. I would apologize for ruining your first day, but coddling doesn't help anyone.

[ Wry laugh, brief and abrupt ]

I'm the last guy who wants anythin sugar-coated, trust me.

I'd rather face an ugly truth than a pretty lie.

Good, then we should get along just fine. As long as you don't try to cause any trouble of your own in Attleton. I'm the Guardian.

[ Sarcastic, completely joking, honest ] Sure. I'll stay away from Attleton if there'll be any mass destruction.

[ Sober tone, now: ] ... Thanks for the info.

It's been a pleasure. And thank you for keeping your destruction out of my town.

001 | say hello to everything you've left behind

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