~Angel
The Underground.
You may have once known it as a complicated system of fast trains. A means of transportation. In some places it was called the subway.
But it hasn’t been that way in years. Constant wars around the world made the land above uninhabitable. Unless you like toxic air, ruined buildings just waiting to collapse, and pollution clouds thicker than pea soup, that is. Now the Undergrounds around the world are communities of nightclubs, specialty shops and other things that a normal person wouldn’t want in THEIR neighbourhood. But for freaks like me, the Underground is home. And since the wars, there are nothing BUT freaks around here. Things you would read about in books and see in movies are all too real down here. Along with things no one could ever dream of, no matter how ‘imaginative’ they are.
This is not to say the Underground is safe. In some places it is, but wander into the maze of tunnels and you’re in no man’s land. Trust me, you don’t want to meet anyone down there. Dollars to donuts, their intentions are not trustworthy or honourable if they’re skulking about in there. Usually in the ‘cities’, old train stations and open tunnel areas where we’ve built our clubs and shops, it’s pretty safe. But there’s always some joker who wants to cause trouble or a big wig from another town trying to muscle in.
That’s where I come in. My name’s Angel. I guess you could call me border patrol. I live in a city called The District. Yeah yeah, creative name, yada yada. But it’s probably the safest place you can be as it’s one of the bigger communities. You can find darn near anything here; there are more shops here than aboveground London ever had. Anyway, I live above and own the Featherlight, one of the clubs downtown. I’m also the regular singer there, but I moonlight as your friendly border patrol. I keep the peace in The District and any other places that need my help. Sometimes aggressive negotiations are necessary, but usually I can settle things quickly either way. You might think it’s a lot of work for one person, but hey, it’s a living. Besides, I prefer to work alone, unless you count my trusty gunblade Blackwing. Partners or posses would just slow me down. Not to mention trust is not exactly a luxury I can afford most times. Almost everyone has a hidden agenda down here. Staying out of sight won’t keep you safe, and trying to blend in and be normal is suicide, not to mention impossible. It’s very rare that you see freaks of a feather flocking together. Most times groups are gangs and thugs that you don’t really wanna be a part of. Any pairs you see are different species. No two alike. No one is ‘normal’ here.
It’s being ‘normal’ that can get you killed.
|