Chapter Text
[I have been trying to forget what happened for so long.]
[“to remove my mistakes, my memories, my bad dreams, my whole life.”]
[“yet I always hit rock bottom”.]
His eyes open wide awake, his body stiffened on the wet concrete, he grunts as he tries to get up, but all he can feel is the sharp burning pain within him. Shards of glass pierced his back like darts to a board, and blood ran down his jacket, coating the black leather, even if it's barely noticeable.
[“How did I end up here, thrown outside of god knows where, with glass stabbing into my back like I’m a pincushion or one of those voodoo dolls I see in the shop, I’m surprised I am even alive at this point”]
Before he could think, Krit was pulled up by the collar of his leather jacket as he was dragged back into The Bad Liver, the bar he was thrown out of during a fight. His ears were ringing from the heavy blows to his skull. His memory tries to recall what got him in this situation in the first place.
[“I keep getting myself in trouble, always ending up in pain. Doesn’t matter what the situation is.]
A jackal with orange aviators smacks Krit in the face with his clawed palm as he's dragged in by the biggest guy out of the group, a rhino. “Well, would you look at that?” The jackal snarled at Krit with teeth, showing off every fang he had. “Krit Dovers is still alive…Surprisingly.” The jackal jabs Krit in the stomach; the impact sends ripples of pain throughout his body.
[“Is it weird to say I like the pain? It's a burning sensation that almost feels addictive in a way, the different ways of pain all mixing in a cocktail of suffering.
[The leftover glass was piercing my back, even after being dragged from where I was thrown.
The blunt trauma induced by these three idiots, the bruises and cuts that ooze and sting. It's almost like I want death.”]
Krit gets punched by the Jackal, causing him to snap out of it and knock him back into the situation, “Hey, dipshit! Are you even paying attention, or are you too busy daydreaming?”
[Yeah, no, totally weird thing to say, probably the secret masochist part of me awakened if I thought that. I got to stop overthinking this.]
Krit shakes his head, his vision blurry and his hearing ringing like the city bell, what his attackers were even saying, it was like he was underwater without getting wet.
“Sorry, I can’t hear you…Can you give me a bit of time to regain my hearing?” Krit sounded strained and exhausted. His ears were throbbing, and his hearing still hasn’t recovered yet, so most of the time he was hearing utter nonsense with a few hints of actual words spoken.
Krit felt a sharp silver knife pointed near his neck as he looked up to see a chocolate-colored weasel with a shit-eating grin. Krit could even see a gold tooth in the weasel’s mouth.
[Either he thinks he’s special or he doesn’t clean his teeth enough, lazy ass.]
“You're going to lose more than your hearing, mutt, if you don’t give us what we want,” the largest out of the four punks speaks up clearly. The rhino is definitely the one who threw Krit out the window, judging by the massive, muscular, boulder-like arms that big man has.
[Ah, The Hornz, I see they have taken members without those damn pointy things on their heads. Must be either getting desperate or trying to indoctrinate them into their shitty gimmick
“Give you what? I already took enough from your gang after all you took stuff from me.” Krit grits his teeth. His mind cleared up after the constant assault on his body stopped and subsided for a few moments.
[Took me long enough to realize that I stole some ammunition and rations from their gang, fair price considering they stole my damn bike. I’m starting to think Taros doesn’t like me.
The rhino doesn’t hesitate and punches Krit in the gut; the pain surges straight through his body. That bastard's fist was like a hammer, and Krit despised being the Nail.
He swings another one at Krit, punching into his chest, the pain in his body burns deep with every heavy hit. His oxygen begins to drop from the massive punch straight to his chest. At this point, another hit might destroy his lungs. So he had to think quickly.
Three jerks, all from the same gang surrounding him. Obviously, the strongest was hitting him while the lanky weasel freak held Krit at knife point. So he needed to think fast and get his timing correct, either He gets broken ribs and destroyed lungs or slit open throat.
As the rhino swings his fist at Krit again, aiming for his face to make a message to not mess with the gang, however, Krit is one stubborn motherfucker, His canines dig deep into the dirty creature's hand, crimson sprays out as the Weasel retracts in pain. The rhino clenches its big fist and at Krit, ready to knock him down cold.
Krit swiftly dodges the punch, barely getting hit by it as it passes by his cheek, leaving a clear opening for Krit with the rhino's neck exposed. Krit clenches his fist and gives a straight jab into their sensitive throat. He was preparing to fight more; however, his lungs and body say otherwise as he squirms on the floor, gasping for air. The rhino grips on his neck, coughing, tears filling his eyes.
The weasel runs at Krit with the knife, blade sharper than the broken glass on Krit's back.
With the wooden creak of each footstep getting louder and louder.
Krit quickly notices and swings at the weasel, his fist connecting to their mouth, leaving a trail of saliva from the swing as the weasel knocks into the wooden wall.
Krit feels blood running down his fist, and he quickly looks down to notice the weasel's gold tooth is stuck to his hand. “Ow!” He pulls it out and flings it away
While Krit is distracted by the redness leaking out of his knuckle.
The jackal grabs a chair and knocks Krit in the back of the head with it, making him drop down onto his knees, as the jackal raises the chair again, ready to smash it over Krit's head.
“Goodbye, Dog!” The jackal lets out a cackle
Krit sees the looming shadow of the Jackal behind him, so he quickly turns as the Jackal strikes, punching straight through the chair and into the Jackal's nose, crimson oozing out as the Jackal falls back, dropping the chair as it breaks.
[I get into fights all the time, I win sometimes…other times I don’t. Most of the time, I look like shit afterward; either way, it doesn’t matter how I look. It's about how I survive.]
Krit walks to the jackal and takes the motorcycle keys from his front pocket.
The jackal dazedly looks at Krit, his nose still leaking fresh blood. “You honestly think you're going to survive in this damn city, let alone lead a gang?” His voice is weak and raspy. “You are going to be torn apart like a baby bird being fed to predators.”
Krit looks up at him and puts his palm on the jackal's shoulder, looking directly into his eyes, “Thanks for the advice”.
He then slams the jackal's face into the table, his head bounces off the table, aviators broken as he lies there out cold.
Krit opens his palm and puts away the keys that are rightfully his.
He pulls out his radio and tunes it to a specific frequency before using it. Frequency ninety-six-zero-five “Donnie, can you hear me?”
Donnie responds, “Loud and clear, boss. It sounded like you had a tough time over there. I heard glass breaking all the way from the hideout. Are you doing okay?”
Krit looks back at the aftermath of the fight. The rhino passed out from lack of oxygen. The weasel is lying against the wall with a couple of broken teeth scattered across it, and the jackal has a broken nose and an even more broken piece of eyewear.
“Yeah, I had time to recover a bit before getting what I wanted. I’m going after my bike now, so wish me luck.”
Krit turns off his communicator and stores it in his jacket pocket, making sure he has it with him at all times.
“Now time to get my damn bike back.”
He adjusts himself despite the injuries and leaves the bar.
He checks how much ammunition he has in his gun.
“Eight Shells, two in the chamber, good enough. Hope those assholes haven’t dismantled it.”
He lurks in the Junkyard, massive piles of trash pillars on both sides of the entrance with a rusty gated fence in the middle. An old lock dangles in the wind. Krit's grip on his bat tightens as he walks close to it.
Smashing the lock after getting close to it with his bat, Krit follows through the dump till he hears some voices ahead.
He hides behind some trash pillars and rubble as he hears voices behind all the garbage.
“Make sure the bike is dismantled by the time our boss hears the news. That hornless creature deserves nothing!” The horseman with a scar on his right eye and a fake metal horn says to the seven punks guarding it.
[Unicorn…. course, he's here, Taros's biggest non-horned supporter and lieutenant, and the reason I got into this in the first place. He is devoted enough to have a single metal horn stitched and burned into his skull.]
Each of these thieves appears to be wearing fake horns and strange, metallic-plated masks that conceal their species, which is unusual, since the others at the bar didn’t have any. Their masks resemble cow skulls with an optic lens on each eye.
[...Here goes nothing, Hope to God I don’t get my ass kicked again]
Krit waits for the horse lieutenant to leave, as he now has the seven-horned pretenders in his way.
He gets an idea as he looks at the trash tower he's leaning against. He grabs a brick and throws it hard onto the ground, making a clear noise for the thieves.
“What in the world was that!” One of them looks around frantically after saying that
Two other masked hornz grunts follow them to investigate the noise
Krit's shoulder charges himself into the Trash Tower, causing rubble and scrap to tumble onto 3 of the thieves, their bodies covered in garbage as they are crushed under it
“It’s the hound!! KILL HIM!” The tallest one out of the three begins shooting at Krit; bullets spray at him. As the muzzle flashes light up the junkyard from the mere amount of gunfire
He takes the chance and takes cover, just in time before a bullet could graze him.
He waits for the grunts to reload, giving him an opening to get in for a takedown.
As the sounds of shooting stop, they struggle to reload as Krit vaults over and blasts one directly in the head, their face evaporating in wet crimson chunks as the other one flinches from the loud sound of Krit's boomstick.
Krit swings the back of the gun at the other thief as the tall one tackles Krit into the trash-covered pillar, almost tipping it over as trash falls off it from the impact alone.
The one Krit smacked gets back up, shooting directly at Krit, aiming to kill
Krit wraps his arms around the tall one and headbutts him before shifting them to the gunner's direction. Their bodies absorb most of the shots like a meat sponge, crimson coats the tall one's body as each shot leaves a new hole in the already dead grunt.
“N-no, please! Let me live!” The masked horned thief realizes they are the only ones left as they drop their machine gun and surrender
Krit stands over the last thief
sawed shotgun in his right hand, and crimson all over his jacket and shirt.
Krit aims at the masked fellow, Ready to kill, but he looks into their eyes.
The Hound lets out a sigh.
[fuck it, it isn’t worth it]
Instead of turning the man into an unrecognizable red mist. He holsters his gun and walks past the man, not wasting a shell on him, before slightly turning his head to the helpless grunt.
“Choose a better life. If you attack me, try to pray for mercy again. I will let my gun give you the answer.” Krit walks past the trash pillars, his red eyes shine in the darkness as he says those words coldly. He then gets on his bike and drives off, leaving a trail of dirt and dust.
[“Sometimes I wonder why I choose to spare my enemies when they don’t care about the people they hurt.. Sometimes I wonder why I kill either.”]
[“Maybe it's a moral code, maybe I’m bored of fighting, but all I know now is.”]
[“I’m just being me”.]
Chapter 0 (SCRATCHES)
Krit drives his way to his hideout to discuss plans with his Team
As he drives, he notices a crowd of people ahead of him, blocking the way.
He parks his motorcycle near an alley and walks to see what the commotion is about
Without fully being seen in his damaged and messy state
Five people stand in front of a whole crowd, as nooses wrap around their necks.
Krit's father stands by while a bird with a thick jacket, connected to a speaker and an oxygen tank, begins to speak, his voice raspy and static from the speaker.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we found yet more Wastelanders trying to sneak into our territory.”
“These people want what we have. They are nothing but thieves, filthy, vile excuses for flesh and blood.
And for that, my men shall not give them a quick death. All of them deserve never to touch their tainted paws on our empire!”
There was pure hate coming out of his voice, even if he struggled to breathe properly with some of his words.
Kaven clears his throat before stepping in to calm the commander and address the public.
“While they are mammals, the birds do not discriminate against workers, so if you want to not end up like these unlucky five, then come on down and join the empire as a worker for their cause!”
“The birds will help us bring a new age to our lives if we give them a chance,
Before my friend here pulls the lever, make sure to see that these Wastelanders are nothing more than filth that don’t belong in the city.”
The five unlucky strangers squirm. Their dirty bag heads have a word written on with messy red paint. saying the words Wastelander.
The crowd begins booing them, throwing tomatoes, and insulting the Wastelanders.
“Hanging is too good for freaks like them!’
One of them said aggressively.
“Burn them instead! They take our crops, they bring sickness to our homes!’ another said
“They should be ground up or better yet ripped apart! I want them to be in pain! They should never be near our children with their rotten hands and teeth!”
A mother in the crowd said, holding her child.
Kaven hears the crowd's pure, masochistic, venomous hatred against the Helpless wastelands and quickly points at the Vulture executioner.
“Let's give these people a show!’
The Vulture pulls the lever, and each of the outsiders loses their breath, every drop. The rope snaps, each by each, as Krit looks away and winches. Some of them didn’t even die quickly; the commander watches one of them struggle before giving in to the cold embrace of the end.
“Good riddance,” The commander rasped, “Now I feel better. Thanks Kaven”
[The birds…where do I start with them]
[They are a disease…no worse, A plague on this world. All of them
Ever since my dad worked with them after the death of my mom. This city has gone to shit. Anyone who dares enter the city never comes back out.]
[The fact that my father still thinks he has control is funny, still delusional.]
Krit walks, holding onto his bike, drifting it away from the crowd. Before he enters his garage, he notices a bird with a white band trying to speak with him. He looks young, around his 20s or so
“H-hey, sir! I-I wanted to know if you would consider helping with a big cause. M-my name is-.” before the Pigeon could introduce himself, Krit interrupts.
“Not interested, egg shitter.” Krit pushes him aside, and he goes into the garage, ignoring the bird
“O-oh! s-sorry, sir! ..I guess you're in a bad mood.” The peaceful pigeon sighs and looks down before going to someone else to help, whatever his cause currently is
Krit places his Bike away, fuels it, and then checks on the others.
Donnie B is throwing darts at a picture of a bird, most of the darts barely hitting the bird directly in the beak, usually hitting the background. She sticks her tongue out, hoping to aim that direct shot. The female Doberman tries to focus on the poster, the chain around her neck rattles from her throws. She wears a nice Black jacket with a Red Skull on the back. Her collar pops out from her undershirt, making it more pronounced and visible. Her glassy grey eyes scan the poster, looking for the right angle to throw the dart.
“You looked worse for wear,” Donnie hears and sees Krit enter as she throws another dart while striking a conversation with her boss, the dart landing on the bird's helmet, “fuck” she mutters, she pulls out another dart, trying not to get too distracted.
“Got my ass thrown out a window, so I definitely could have looked better.” Krit takes off his jacket to reveal how bad the injuries are, with glass still left over on his back, and red coats the back of his shirt, which used to be white
Donnie throws another dart at the picture, hitting the bird's neck, “shit.”
“You know, we recently got a recruit. You should probably introduce them around the place. By the way, you really need medical attention badly. You are one step away from looking like a Biker victim with how many fights you get into,” she throws another dart, hitting the bird's eye. She sighs and leans back with one dart left in her hand.
“The recruit hopefully knows what they are signing up for, right?”
Krit takes his shirt off and begins to bandage parts of himself, trying to avoid eye contact. “I’m sure the recruit will do just fine.” There was some quietness to Krit's voice, and Donnie noticed quickly
“..Stil thinking about that night, huh?”
Krit's eyes widen as he looks back at Donnie, who moved next to Krit on the couch. Her hands take over as she grabs the bandages from Krit's palm.
Donnie gets close and says, “It’s not your fault, okay. I know you tried to do the right thing. Tance is probably alive up there, cleaning up machinery or whatever the birds are making him do. Just remember that's the past, and the present is here, with all of us.”
[Tance…a close friend of mine when we were both in desperation, Gone and arrested by the birds after I bashed in one of the commander's brains in for her]
[My sister]
Krit stays quiet but shows a small smile at Donnie's attempt to comfort him, as he feels each shard pull out of him. That burning feeling is still there, as it slowly gets covered by disinfectant alcohol. Krit growls a little from the pain as Donnie smirks. “You got beaten down hard, and disinfectant still hurts the most? You haven’t changed a bit,” she chuckles.
Krit mutters in annoyance as he winces from each application of disinfectant on the wounds.
“You really need a medical expert on this, Krit. You'd better be glad I know a thing or two about a few injuries.” She then helps Krit up and takes him to the workshop area
Each gang member is currently doing their own tasks as Krit and Donnie enter the main room.
The area is filled with activity that it’s almost overwhelming.
Aki Tsuki, a brown rabbit, is currently running in place. keeping an eye on the timer as each step he takes gets faster and faster, not breaking a single sweat as he listens to some beicoli music. Not even noticing his boss returned from work. His jacket was hung up with the record player.
Louis Blade, a silver-furred wolf wearing a black leather jacket with spikes on it, begins sharpening his machete, His back leaning against the cold white wall. Every grind against the blade sends out a small spark as he stares out, possibly thinking of the possibilities of taking his anger out on some punks. He goes by the name.
Rudy Valcost, the cat with round glasses and a cozy green sweater, is currently typing on a keyboard while staring directly into a monitor. He is clearly coding his own game and testing his programming skills on it. It’s a simple dungeon game with ASCII text and code.
Mortis Harbringer, A hyena, is tuning his guitar next to the cat, keeping his strings clean with a nice white rag. He shows slight annoyance at the brown rabbit's choice of music. Piercings are all over his ear, lips, tongue, and even his nose. Skull face paint is freshly applied on as he gives off a rockstar look.
A maned wolf is currently playing cards with a white bunny. Alison Decker, The white bunny has a stylish red gambler outfit with a fancy neck collar. She leans back as she flicks her pink hair back and grins.
like a gremlin finding a stash of food.
Jack Walper, a maned wolf, had a more casual fit. A striped red and black shirt with a basic brown hoodie, and some sweatpants on, his hazel eyes darting at each card, trying to focus on the game, while his friend doesn't care.
Finally, Tammy Radzical, a raccoon, grips her skateboard as she fixes the wheels. She's chubby and wears a thick blue coat with a backwards hat that is too big for her head, her hair is messy, and she has an almost trashy look compared to the others.
Jack looks annoyed by Alison’s tricks, somehow getting the best cards out of thin air while he himself gets the worst ones.
“Can’t we just play poker normally, Alison?”
Alison lets out a high-pitched chuckle and slides a king out of her sleeve.
“Not till I get all your currency, Jack!” she smirks as she reveals her deck.
Jack rolls his eyes and looks at the machete-wielding wolf near him.
“Ey Louis! Are you almost done brooding, or are you gonna play some poker!”
Louis gives off a cocky grin,
“Aw, want me to help you not get beaten by a girl who's shorter than you?”
Jack's face turns flustered, trying to hide himself with cards at the embarrassing feeling, “W-what! No, I want you to join the game, that's all.”
Louis chuckles darkly
“Suuure pal.”
Aki finally stops running and huffs as he chooses to lie down.
“Hey, Krit! Are you done getting your ass kicked and finally taking a break?” The rabbit was exhausted but still had enough energy to crack a joke at Krit. Causing Krit to chuckle
“Not taking a break yet, unfortunately, we have someone new coming in. Speaking of, are they here yet?”
Aki shrugs, “Not yet, I believe Tams was supposed to meet with them. She's usually good at recruiting rookies.” Aki takes a chug out of his water canteen, which is stashed by his hip, chugging down every drop before wiping his mouth clean.
Tams looks annoyed before joining in the conversation, trying to clarify a couple of things that were said.
“So? It's not time yet, I wanna make sure it's secretive,” Tams says as she holds her skateboard close.
“Besides, it's not like you would do better, Aki. You are too busy with that obstacle course you made than actually helping get us recruits.”
Aki Laughs, “Hey, I’m just glad it isn’t my sister Haru joining. Even though she fit right in, I would rather not put her in danger, even if she's old enough to be considered an adult.”
“Personally, I prefer that we assemble a band to expose our motives to more people. Music can guide people to the right place after all.” The pierced-mouth Hyena spoke while gripping their guitar tightly.
“Like you can sing at all with those piercings on your tongue, Mortis,” The calico cat says as he adjusts his round glasses.
“Shut up, Rudy, like you know anything about piercings or music,” Mortis snorts as he focuses on making sure his guitar is tuned.
Rudy pouts and holds himself.
“Hope none of that metal you put on yourself rusts.”
Mortis looks back and says, “It will at least stay, unlike your programming. "
Rudy raises his eyebrow and says, “What is that supposed to mean to me-”
He looks back at his monitor and notices he forgot to save the file he was working on. His eyes widen in shock, filled with pure despair.
“NOOOOO!”
He takes his glasses off, eyes full of not physical pain but emotional pain, before faceplanting onto the desk with a depressing thud that would be heard throughout the cosmos and beyond
He lets out a muffled scream of rage onto the poor, helpless desk.
Aki looks at Krit with a confused, unsure look
“Let's just…keep focusing on the main task.” He says
“As long as the recruit is here for a good cause, that's what matters.”
Donnie checks the camera feed and sees the recruit in the dark alleyway. A grainy silhouette stands.
Tams notices that the recruit has arrived and doesn’t shift her expression in the slightest as she quickly goes to meet them.
Jack raises his eyebrow.
“You know, Krit, I think you should probably follow her. It’s probably best to make sure the meeting goes well.
Could always go either way.”
Alison giggles, “Even if it goes downhill, at least it'll be better than you playing cards.”
“H-Hey! I’m trying here!” Jack says, sounding irritated, before trying to focus back on his deck. Trying his best to beat his gremlin of a partner at poker
“Not till you get better, loser, I will just keep winning.” She sticks her tongue out playfully before placing down a three of a kind. Jack smacks both of his palms on his face before slumping down onto the table, defeated.
Krit nods and says, “Okay, Donnie. Stay with the others, make sure nothing happens while Tams and I meet the Recruit.”
Donnie Salutes Krit, clearly showing full confidence in the job she's tasked. “Will never disappoint Boss!”
[My gang…despite my judgment of them at times, I still feel honored to have them by my side. They are almost like family.”
“Especially Louis, we've been friends since childhood, and He stuck with me to this day.”]
Louis stares at Krit with an unfazed expression. Before sighing and gritting his teeth, before shouting
“Hey, Krit! Stop spacing out and focus on what's going on, dammit!” Louis Bares his fangs, trying to get his attention
Krit shakes his head, “Oh shit, right, sorry.” Krit apologizes, making Louis shift his tone. His voice quiets down as he looks less aggressive. “Sorry, I know you like to talk to yourself a lot, Krit, but you should let yourself talk to me or the others.”
Krit lets out a smile, “I will keep that in mind…not literally, obviously.” Chuckling a little before following Tams to meet the recruit.
As they walk in, it's now night, a perfect time for a decisive meeting, especially in a dark, cold, damp alleyway.
A hooded figure with a strange mask leans against the cold brick wall before noticing Krit and Tams. They quickly shift their position to look more professional, making sure the situation isn’t awkward.
Krit raises an eyebrow at the appearance.
[Out of all the teammates I have so far, this one is already catching my eye, appearance-wise. They have their entire body covered by a brown stitched-on cloth, and their mask is made of stone with strange tribal markings painted on. It doesn’t resemble a face so much as something you would see in an ancient cave wall.”
Tams chews some gum and crosses her arms, not as surprised or amused as Krit.
“I didn’t ask for a masquerade friend. Just show us what you look like, and we will accept you. Don’t, and I will not be so inviting.”
The figure struggled a bit with what to say, its body shuffling as if they are trying to figure out what to do. Then it spoke in an unknown language, something none of the gang understands. It sounded like those stories of Wastelanders outside the city who speak a language from a past civilization.
“S-sorry about that, I’m used to speaking in my native tongue,” she clears her throat as she tries to sound more formal and more open to the two.
Her voice was surprisingly high and soft. She then took off her mask to reveal her face.
Tam's eyes widen as she reaches for a weapon, but Krit quickly stops her by gripping her wrist. Krit tries to give the recruit a chance before judgment, despite Tams being a bit cynical for someone who helps recruits into the gang.
[She was…an insect…one of those bug people mostly seen in The Wasteland. How is she here? There are no insects in Neon City, and those who did enter never came out…]
“Who are you?” Krit asked, looking at her as he stepped forward slowly, letting go of Tams's wrist
“My name is too complicated to pronounce…so just call me Esperanza or just Esper for short. I originally came from my tribe to get supplies here, but due to the birds' cruelty, I would rather help stop them and anyone like them. Then hide myself and let my tribe eventually get discovered and rot.”
She soon removes her cloak to show. more of her insect body, showing she's a mantis with bright yellow eyes and a darker shade of green body. She has a scarf around her neck, and her antennae are short.
“Hope you don’t mind my appearance.” She nervously scratches the back of her head.
Krit shakes his head, “No, no, you look great! I get why you wore a costume. It's awful here.”
Esper nods, “Yeah, I heard all about this place, all the food, the lights, the sounds, and the people…if only it weren’t bird-controlled. My people would love to arrive here rather than where we are now. It’s not great that the wasteland has been getting emptier and emptier. The plants at home are dying…if I don’t help, how is my tribe gonna survive…”
Krit smiles, “Then you came to the right place. We will help you as much as we can. Your secret is with us, so don’t expect any snitches because they are cowards.”
Before he lets out a hand, Tams stops him. Her eyes and expression show hesitation and worry over the riskiness of this choice.
“Krit, should we really trust her? I know she's friendly, but having her on the team will bring a ton of attention to us. She isn’t a part of the city after all. And what if she gets spotted with us? We will just get sent down the hole towards hell.”
Krit shakes his head.
“So? Just cause she’s from the wastelands doesn’t mean we should leave her out.
She made her choice by stepping here, so I’m choosing to take her in. If you like it or not, complain about it later.”
Tams sighs before looking away from Esper and Krit, showing that she will need to adjust to this whole new change, “damn morality,” she scoffs before looking at Esper, giving her a nod of approval, “don’t screw this up.”
Esper smiles after hearing Krit's statement, expressing her first bit of joy to her new allies.
Tams opens the door for Esper.
“Come on in, we will make a bed for you, just make sure not to make a mess. Cleaning messes is too much of a common problem here anyway.”
Esper smiles more, less subtle in her joy, “Thank you so much!” she says, then hugs Krit. Krit cringes as he feels pressure against the bandaged wounds on his back. “O-okay, okay, thanks, but that's enough,” he gently pushes her off.
Krit lets out a nervous laugh, trying to mask the pain. He tries to clarify the situation so she doesn’t get too excited again.
“The job isn’t too special, really. But it's good to see you excited about what we have for you. You know, this job is dangerous. We are dealing with some of the scummiest pieces of shit in the city, and most of those living fecal matter are the birds. So expect to make the right calls and don’t expect to embrace pacifism in every situation we get in. Got it?”
Esper clears her throat. “Oh, right, sorry,” She scratches the back of her head, clearly a bit anxious. “My tribe has taught me how to use survival skills. I learned how to make bolts, spears, and anything that doesn’t need complex machinery for hunting.”
Tams raises her eyebrow before smirking, “I’d think you fit right in if you don’t mind killing bad guys.”
“Considering those 'bad guys' actively dislike my species and anyone who doesn’t agree with them so much so that they will keep all the essential foods and resources to themselves, I think I can handle dealing with it...maybe. I never really killed outside of hunting, and most of the time, it’s bandits or scavengers, not bird militia.” Esper holds herself
“You will get used to it, just don’t expect us to take on the birds already.” Krit tears off a bird propaganda poster on the alleyway wall and crumbles it up into a ball before tossing it into the trash.
As the three return, Someone watches them from afar. Someone focusing only on Krit in particular. they holds a dagger close to himself before walking away, “not yet. He needs to know the message first.” The figure talks itself as they vanish in the darkness
After that night, the next day begins hot, the sun burns bright over the dry horizon. Not the hottest Neon city has been, but its close heat waves are more visible than ever before
Krit lies on the couch. He tries to think of a plan. His legs stretched out across the sofa while he stared at the ceiling.
Mortis is tuning his guitar as he looks at Krit
“Bad day to go out, huh?”
Krit looks at Mortis with an annoyed, tired glare. “We meant to steal some stuff from the Hornz, but it seems the sun has other ideas.”
Mortis lets out a deep chuckle. “Mate, sometimes the world has its own plans too. Can’t expect Mother bloody Nature to be on the same terms as you.”
“Though when you think about it,” He gets up and places his guitar down.
“Who makes the choices, really? Our world? Or does someone beyond our understanding do?” He leans against a poster of a punk dressed giraffe girl smoking with the appropriately classy title “deep throat”. “You know these posters are mine, right? Got them before I changed to who I am now. Still, the only fond memory I have in my past. They were a band I remember listening to called Deep Throat, a suggestive title I knew before the transfer to the wasteland. The fine lady on the poster is Jill, the main singer, and she has me envious with her music. God bless. She was such an awakening for me. Wonder what she and her band are up to now.”
Krit sighs, “I feel the same way… It's hard to remember what it's like outside the wasteland now, and I know, I’m still redecorating the hideout. Are you still advertising our gang? I'd rather not deal with advertising myself
since I've got a full plate of work. Besides, you are the musician, not me.”
“Of course, mate, big problem though is that Birds are nitpicky and love to poke their filthy beaks in my performances at the local bar.
Almost makes me wish I could slam my guitar into their damn skulls so they would shut up for good instead of being nosy twats.” Mortis stretched
Krit gets up and stretches. “So, what do we do then? Cause even though the weather could burn us, I think we should try something.”
Mortis spits out a drink before getting up to face Krit, “You seriously wanna make plans when it's boiling out? Not sure if you care, but I'd rather not have my body catch fire from the absolute fire titan that is the sun.”
Krit shrugs, “Sure, I mean it’s not like it ever snows here. It's The Wasteland, we were transferred here for a reason.”
“We should always plan. It doesn’t matter the weather or time. If it's important, it's important.”
Mortis scoffs and looks away at Krit's audacity and persistence with the plans. “God, you’re crazy…however, you're crazy in a good way, too, I suppose.”
“Damn straight,” Krit stands up straight, showing off a stance of confidence.
“It's about time we make our names known this week, no matter what. The last light will bring back hope to this city, and I won’t let some birds continue to make this place their territory while hanging those who want shelter. I won’t let some violent gangs take advantage of the helpless, raping, murdering, and kidnapping. All the most depraved stuff could happen if we do not help. I won’t let my father ruin my mother's legacy because he gave up on going against the birds! This week we make a fucking message.”
Krit Plops down a Map of Neon City onto the cold metal table while everyone is gathered around it
“We are currently here,” He points at the base, which is near the Clockworks mechanics. shop
Tams raises her eyebrow and crosses her arms. “And? We already know that gonna tell us the sky is blue?”
“Let me finish,” Krit responds as he draws lines to a couple of unique points in the city using a dark red marker. Each line connects to each specific district of the map.
“The Hornz and Vermin have been bothering us the most ever since our gang has been growing, so I believe we should go for the Hornz first due to the active hostility they have shown us recently. It's best to bite back. “
Mortis crosses his arms. “I prefer dealing with the crazy fuckin rats instead. At least they are mostly scrawny and easier to handle compared to the beefed-up horned bastards you wanna go after.”
“Same, The Hornz have way more weaponry than us. Plus, their leader is stronger than you, Krit.” Tams says, arms crossed.
Krit looks away, feeling insecure. "He's not that strong. I’m sure I can handle him. I recently fought a rhino, so how bad can Taros be?”
Jack puts his palm on Krit's shoulder, showing an expression of worry and disagreement. “Tams got a point, Krit. If we go for the Hornz first, our gang turns into Viscera. Taros is sadistic, especially to people not born without horns. I saw some stuff that would make the birds look like children playing with toys.”
Krit mutters, “Shit…that sounds really bad. I haven’t looked into them that much except for when they stole my bike, but that's really it. Someone must have known to send some members after me.”
Allison cocks her head at Krit. Were you expecting all of us to vote for the Gang known for stitching and branding their non-horned folk? I saw them force a man to have iron horns dug into their skull so they could fit in. The dude was screaming like he was giving birth to a cactus.”
Krit was in a struggle here. He had a bias against the Birds and the Hornz, but he was someone who made his word on stopping every gang in the city, so he thought for a moment.
“I never really dwelled deep into Vermin's territory.”
Esper looks confused. “How come?”
Krit crossed his arms and confessed, “The Vermin were not as threatening to me compared to the other gangs. I always assumed they were a small gang that could barely fight back. It’s wrong to think that, but can you blame me?”
“They are mostly known for scavenging and being filthy. Known to be at junkyards or the dark alleys of the city. The only thing I know about them is the Leader.”
“Skekver”
Louis looks on with full attention. “..That fuckhead…of course he's running the damn vermin, despite everything I done for him..”
Krit sets down a picture of Skekver, a dark-furred rat with goggles, jagged teeth, and pants that need pulling up. “Someone whom I don’t know well, but Louis sure does. I remember Skekver was someone Louis and I encountered when we were kids, with…Vincent”
He shakes his head, trying to keep focused on the topic.
“His Gang is known for reusing stuff as weapons…sometimes scrap can be reused for many things…Bombs..Ammo, …Blades. Any trash is their treasure to use against any helpless folk who cross their path. There have been reports of victims with tenatus being found dead in areas with Vermin activity.”
“Anything that can take a life, they will use.” Louis cleans his machete, staring into his own reflection before putting it away. “Skekver is dangerous, but as the first target, he's doable. Don’t underestimate him, Krit. I've seen his temper.”
Rudy stares at the map. “So sorry to ask, Krit, but why are we going on the offensive against any of these gangs? Wouldn’t it draw heat towards us?” Rudy adjusts his glasses, showing skepticism about the mission, trying not to cause the worst to happen
Krit looks at Rudy and says, “We are doing this not only to show that we aren’t to be messed with but to show that the Birds aren’t in charge of the city.”
Jack's eyes widen as he quickly responds, “W-woah man, I didn’t think we did this to overthrow the government! Don’t they have tanks and helicopters?
No offense, Krit, but maybe your expectations might be a bit…ambitious?”
Krit sighs, “I know, but…what else can we do? If we just allow these kinds of people to walk the streets. Who knows what could happen? I've seen terrible stuff when growing up, and you all should know that by now.”
Aki Steps in to add some common sense to this plan, “Why not leave it to Vazel and the patrol-”
Krit cuts off Aki's next few words, “No, The Birds have a Bias…Trust me..I saw it with my eyes. They will let their own kind run free with any crime they can muster, all for their stupid racial theory.”
“I agree with Krit, Those Living poultry have no idea how to run our city. They just do whatever the fuck they want while we get fewer and fewer resources because of it. Two Beak is no god but just a mutated fraud that thinks he’s unstoppable,” Louis growled, showing disdain towards the bird empire and its religion.
Tams holds her skateboard close as she nods, “I agree with Krit as well. The birds will let anyone get imprisoned or executed as long as it's not them.
Aki looks anxious, hesitating on whether he should chime in or not before deciding to go all in on the idea. He sighs as he realizes the reality of the situation, “I guess you're right.. I mean..Esper is an outsider, so she's definitely on Krit's side.”
Esper nervously fidgets with her hands. “Y-yeah…I just don’t want the birds to hurt anymore Outsiders, if we take the city, maybe my family could move in and be happy.” She smiled with her eyes closed.
Rudy leans back against his chair. “Well, considering Krit’s Father works for the Birds, I can see why he wants to do what needs to be done. Personally, I have a more personal vendetta to settle.”
Krit puts the map away and quickly looks at everyone. “So, is everyone in or not? Cause if we don’t think of something, who knows what will happen.”
Donnie walks into the room, coffee in hand. Donnie was listening to the whole conversation from the kitchen, not wanting to interrupt anyone, as she sips on the pitch-black drink she made.
“Personally, I think that we could handle it as a team, Considering What Krit went through today. Going solo is not the best option when dealing with Bandits, Birds, or Gangs in general.”
Krit considers Donnie's words and thinks for a moment, “We split in groups, gather info on each gang, and set up plans for what we could do next. Their schedule, their sleep time, all their activities, we can watch.”
“As soon as we get an understanding. Before they could realize, we hit one of their operations.”
Krit stabs a dart into the map of where the Vermin have the most activity, directly in the Slums of Neon City.”
“You sure this will go well?” Mortis pulls the dart out of the map and inspects it. “Considering we are small in numbers, we don’t know the exact count of how many members are in each gang.”
Krit takes the dart from Mortis and stabs it back into the map while having a glare of confidence, “If we succeed, we could get the possibility of building our gang more and more. Soon enough, we could reach triple digits, gaining members for our gang. What could go wrong?”
“A lot of things,” Rudy pours his own cup of coffee and drinks it with Donnie, his Cat eyes glaring at Krit.
“Krit, I know you want to help the city, but we are limited not just in people but in weaponry and resources, too. The other gangs have numbers close to a whole army with advantages we don’t have.” Rudy finishes his cup and rinses it out while speaking.
Louis looks at Rudy, “Don’t be a fuckin pussy. Most of these gangs attack random people anyway, which would include us; cutting their ties with the city would be helpful for us all.”
“Besides, I have a few grudges I got to clear up with the Vermin, especially Skekver.”
Louis asked everyone except Rudy and Krit, “Anyone else want to object?”
Rudy grips his mug and puts it into the sink. “Listen here, Louis.” Rudy walks closer to him. “I would rather not have my friends or myself die because of some stupid fucking vendetta you have against Skekver. I ain't dragging myself outside to poke the nest while you wanna throw rocks at it.”
Louis gets up and towers over Rudy like a predator looking at helpless prey. “Listen here Pussy Cat, I go out there and shed blood with this blade of mine…while you sit around on that fat ass of yours doing nothing but programming, “We are not the same,” Louis growled. ing and hacking.”
Rudy's claws perk out as he lets out a hiss towards Louis, “You have no idea how important my job is to you. Without me, you are just another rotting corpse ready to be fed on by anyone desperately hungry.”
Louis grips onto his blade tightly, but before he can say anything else, Krit quickly steps in between them to stop and defuse the conflict.
“Let’s not try to kill each other, please. I have it all settled now. We will go forward with the plan. Just not today since it's boiling out and I doubt any of us would like that.”
Rudy lets out an exhausted sigh. “You know what, Fine. I don’t mind needing some rest. Maybe I can talk to Esper to know her better while we all relax.”
Tams Jokes “Too bad none of us are Lizards or else the Sun would mean nothing to us-” Donnie jabs Tams in the arm to shut her trap “OW. the hell, Donnie?”
Donnie nods, “Shall we take a rest then? I think I’m going to go back and practice with my darts.”
“Hmph.” Louis looks away before calming down. “Yeah, I think I need rest too. Maybe a cold drink to help with my dry throat.” He looks at Rudy, “Sorry about that.”
Krit places his hands on the table and stares at the Map a bit. “...Yeah, rest well to all of you, I’m gonna stay up and analyze this map.”
Rudy Shrugs, “Good luck with that, Krit. I’m going to continue where I left off, considering my project didn’t save yesterday. I'd rather make sure it's finished before I bash my skull into my desk,” He leaves back to his own room.
As everyone leaves the meeting, Krit stays there looking at the map, every store, every location, everywhere except the outside of the city.
His mind drifts off to his younger years…
[fifteen years ago]
[Back when my innocence wasn’t killed.]
A Doberman pup was transferred with his father to a bird camp before the birds fully had control.
The Wasteland Repopulation Project. A local project made as a truce between the Mayors of each outside state and the Bird Militia to fix the damage caused by the Red War. Most of the people transferred were from Damnview or other cities outside The Wasteland to help with the cause. Some were volunteers, others were drafted here.
The pup and his father sit in a transportation truck along with a few other mammals.
An orange fox who's still a kid but a few years older than Krit waves at him,
The young pup looks at the fox with a nervous smile as he waves back.
“Are you transferring to the new region too, Ey lad?” The fox had a thick accent, something that the young pup didn’t understand at first.
“H-huh? Can you …repeat that? Your voice sounds a little funny.”
The fox let out a belly laugh as he smacked his knee in amusement. He gave the pup a bright-eyed stare with a full-toothed grin.
“Aye, you probably have never seen me around here. The name Vincent Vazel, you can just call me Vazel for short.”
The excited Young orange fox sticks out his hand to greet the pup, clearly enthusiastic about the whole project.
Young Krit nervously shakes Vazel's hand and slowly gives a warm smile while Krit's father stares off through a window, watching the desert land pass by
The bird driver stops the truck and opens the door. “Alright, get out,” The eagle said in a gruff smoker's voice.
As the mammals walk out of the truck, they get all placed into a Line.
Krit's father, who kept a stoic expression the entire time, felt worried now…yet his Young pup didn’t understand.
He pulls his pup close. “Dad?...when am I going to see Momma?” Young Krit says
“Soon, we are just going through a security check-up.” The father looks up ahead to see another Mammal pass the checkpoint while others struggle to get through.
“As long as we don’t make the birds angry, they will help us.”
“Your mother is already on the other side…so she's waiting for us. We just came in late.”
The Pup's ears lower as he looks anxious. “Okay, Papa,” Krit says
As each mammal searched for diseases or contraband, the orange Fox passed through without being checked, which made Krit confused. Perhaps the Fox is special.
“H-hey! he didn’t get checked!”
The bird walks up to the Young pup and His father after hearing the pup's words.
“He's one of us, kid. Maybe you can join too if you're a bit…stronger, let alone intelligent enough to join us.” The Bird blows black, intoxicating smoke from his Cigar as he continues checking the Mammals in order.
One of the Mammals, A Camel. Drops a Journal when trying to pull out his bag. The Journal has a manifesto against the Bird empire.
“W-wait, I can explain! It's my friends! h-he's in there!” Before the Camel can explain further, he's smacked across the face with a baton by the bird officer.
The camel falls against the ground with blood running down its mouth as teeth scatter across the sandy ground from the hit.
“Take this lumped freak and his contraband to the tents; it's about time he learns his lesson from disrespecting our twin beaked savior.” The Bird officer commands his vultures as they drag the unconscious camel to a tent far from the security checkpoint, closed from the public eye. Barely any shadows cast within. The tent rustles a bit as the sounds of something smacking against something meaty, and suddenly it stops after a few constant smacks, the last one sounds wet. Now there's just a constant dripping noise.
“WHO’S NEXT!” The Bird officer shouts, causing saliva to spurt out from his beak.
A nervous lynx and his Mother walk out
The bird Officer takes a look at the small lynx and then at his mother
Young Krit, who was shocked by the Camel being knocked out earlier, looks at his father.
“Was he a bad guy?”
Krit’s father holds his son close and explains, “Yes, son, He was a bad man who wanted to stop the process of fixing the wasteland.”
The young pup lowers his head. “Oh, well, at least he's gone now.-”
“Stay where you are!”
The bird officer shouted and grabbed the young lynx's arm, his grip tight with burning anger in his eyes.
“H-Hey, let go of me!” The little one pleads to the Bird to pull on the Lynx's arm, and his talons begin scratching the little Lynx’s arm from the pulling force.
“Tance!” The Mother Lynx pulls her son away from the bird soldier, Eyes full of fear and disdain towards the smoking bird.
“Stay out of my way, miss! This is none of your damn concern!” The bird soldier aims a pistol at the mother Lynx as she backs off and quickly pulls something away from the young kits' pocket.
“Now what is this little cat…” He shows a pin the Lynx had, which has peace written on it with a beak symbol
“Where did you get this? And you better not lie.” The officer's tone is harsh, not biased toward anyone’s age, when it comes to his unfiltered anger.
“I-I got it from a nice bird during the trip here. I-it’s just a pin.” The young kit looks down sadly.
The officer bird looks at the pin and tosses it away as it bounces off the sand before finally landing next to the Pup and his Father.
The young pup notices and quickly grabs it before the officer notices, pocketing it.
The Officer clears his throat and says, “Outside of that filthy propaganda, you and your mother are allowed in. Just don’t accept anything from filthy traitors.”
“How dare you!” the mother lynx snaps at the officer.
“You hurt my son over something as innocent as a pin!”
The Bird Officer looks at the mother lynx and lights his cigar. “We birds own this territory; despite the partnership we all have rules…and anything related to traitors…doesn’t fly with me.” his last few words sting cold to her as he quickly moves on.
Tance holds his injured arm close, the crimson seeping down as he whimpers, clear tears form throughout his face.
Both he and his mother make it past the checkpoint after all that.
The Young pup was so focused on them that he didn’t even notice that the officer was checking him and his father.
“So, you must be the leader of this clown show. Heard that the reporter is your wife, and she is already in” The Bird puffs smoke out of his cigar towards the pup's Father.
“Yeah, and? I made a deal to help the wasteland grow…some of the people here came from different states just to help with this plan.” The Father admits
“You want the wasteland to grow? You should have stayed in whatever filthy flea-ridden doghouse you came from,” the Bird Officer snorts as he flicks his cigar away.
“If you got a problem with me, then fucking say it, jackass.” Kaven steps forward towards the officer. You aren’t acting very professional for someone who works for an empire. Too busy trying to fill your lungs with cancer to even care about your actual job.”
The officer's eyes widen as he grits his teeth, “You don’t tell me what to do, you stupid shit-eating piece of-”
“Bloss!” A voice is heard bringing everyone's attention to whoever spoke. It’s directed towards the Officer.
A young swan steps forth, her high heels making rhythmic taps with each step she takes.
Out of everyone here, her outfit looked fancy, clean, and most of all regal.
“Neither my father nor my grandfather asked you to be so rude to our guests. After all, they are all such fresh faces. What would the twins think up above in heaven? They're embarrassed by you.”
She walks to the young pup and Kaven and kneels. “Sorry about that to both of you. Bloss didn’t get the proper memo on how things are going to go. I love seeing new faces in this project.”
“Especially you, little one, I can tell you, and I are gonna be great friends,” she gives off a cheerful yet creepy smile towards the pup.
“You both got a name I can remember you by?” She takes a step back, observing both of them as she crosses her arms.
“I’m Kaven Dovers. This is my son, Krit.” Kaven looks at his son and back at the bird lady
“We actually came here to help with the project,” he nervously scratches the back of his head.
“I got a blueprint to make this section of the wasteland habitable for both of us.”
The Swan narrows her eyes. “Really? Cause I have cameras recording every action you make. Every Action.”
The Officer begins sweating. He steps back, bumping against the checkout table. Her posture, her attitude, everything about her screams fight, or flight, and the Officer couldn’t do either
“B-but Songbird! I haven’t checked for contraband!” Bloss tried to argue, but Songbird stomped her foot with a loud CLACK. Shutting up, Officer Bloss and most of the people are trying to get in. “Okay, miss..” His eyes showed genuine fear of her despite her being a teenager.
Kaven nods at Krit and smiles as they both slowly pass through the checkpoint. “Hope you're ready, son. This is gonna be the most important thing the wasteland will have.” Krit looks back at Kaven with Innocent eyes as his hand is guided towards the hopeful future of the wasteland
[Too bad that future never came.]
[Present day]
Krit struggles to sleep after the gang meeting. He wants things to go right, but remembering the past bothers him. Every single fragment of a bad memory locked in his head keeps him from drifting off into a peaceful sleep.
As he rests, a door creaks open. A dark silhouette watches Krit, looming over him closely. His dark, bloodshot eyes watch him. Whoever it is, they are letting out raspy breaths as they rub their gloved fingers against Krit’s cheek. “Soon, you will see true potential in yourself, and everyone in the city will soon know the truth about who's the False God and who's the Real one.” It licks Krit's cheek, its tongue salivating across the sleeping hound as he winces, not knowing what's really going on as he sleeps. “Goodnight, Doggy.” The figure claws slowly into the table, his nails scratching out something before he fully leaves into the shadows.
The Morning hits as Krit wakes up and stretches. He feels a warm spot on his cheek, but before he understands what happened, he notices scratch marks on the table… “What?” Krit looked surprised by the carvings on the table; he didn’t know that those carvings had meaning. A very unpleasant, unfortunate meaning.
[End of Chapter 0]