T
The Great Me!
Guest
Original poster
Dark, smoggy clouds draped the sky, giving it the appearance of night though it was impossible to tell what time of day it was just about every day, no matter the hour. Sunlight could only hope to puncture through the clouds enough to provide some visibility, like an eternal dusk long after sunset in the day time and impenetrable darkness at night, with no moon to provide any visibility. A person of some couple decades ago wouldn't be able to see past their hands but a life in the dark and dreary new world gave room to adapt and hone the senses for survival.
Blue eyes overshadowed by dirty brown hair peaked out into a back-lot between many different buildings, the rusted, paint-peeled husks of cars the only sign that there may have once been life here, but at the moment it was clear of any signs of other inhabitants. Continuing to look cautiously and waiting for a while to see if anyone may have been in hiding or decided to pass through, it was a while yet before the youth squeezed underneath the sliding metal door of what had once been the shipping intake for some sort of store, where the delivery trucks would once back up and unload a whole palet of products. Now it was rusted and refused to budge more than a few inches, the mechanics on it long having stuck, and the lights above it having burned out years ago.
The temporary, newest dwelling was small, not cramped but only large enough to comfortably house a single occupant and whatever meager belongings they possessed. The rodents that scurred in and out of it made the living a little more constricted for space.
The opening beneath the door was marginal at best, the young male having to shimmey his body and scrape flesh a little against rough concrete to get out. A definite annoyance but also an extra measure of safety for the small boy. Only others just as small or smaller, who posed little threat, would be able to get inside, and anyone bigger probably wouldn't even try. Ignoring scraped elbows, he cast another glance in every direction, even up to building rooftops, straining his senses for any distant noises that signified life, but there were none that he could detect.
Any windows in tall brick and concrete buildings that looked into the alley were dark, suggesting lack of inhabitants that may have been watching. That didn't mean they couldn't appear, but he was well versed in the signs of what to look and watch out for. Pulling a pack from inside what he had used as a temporary home, one he may or may not return to depending on how they day played out, as was often the case, he slung a pack onto his back that held a few possesions. Hanging in the pockets of the side were a pack of matches and some held flares, just in case, and an oil lamp further in his pack for when he'd need more constant light. For now, it would only draw him unwanted attention, and he had to be careful not to waste what light sources he did have for when the creatures came out.
With one last look, just in case, he darted along the alley and through the city, passing through alleyways and under archway tunnels that went through buildings and under bridges. He had a general idea of the territories, and the usual schedules of when and where the gangs patrolled. Most couldn't and didn't survive solo, especially not in the Above ground instead of the tunnels. Most relied on a gang which ruled lawlessly and without restraint, terrorizing the others trying to survive, warring on other Gangs and trying to build their numbers. Some were nothing short of an army. He was one of the few that managed in the Above without a group.
It simply came down to, he didn't trust others. Even to team up on nuetral ground, giving trust and being reliant could be deadly. Backstabbers were everywhere, as common as the stagnent air and the piled corpses that lined the street. What was left of the corpses after the scavengers and creatures anyway. It was common for him to have to step around and over them, to avoid snapping bones underfoot and alerting nearby people or creatures to his presence that would otherwise overlook him.
Stones crumbled down from the tunnel cieling as filthy water unfit fit drinking trickled through cracks, clattering noisely in the tunnel but otherwise went unnoticed as the typical noise of the settling city remnants. Sparks showered off of the few electrical systems that still clung to life, and fingers deftly traced along the cold wall to give a sense of direction and make navigation easy in the darkness, steps light and soundless but purposeful.
Once again caution was dominant as he exited the tunnel, casting a wary look around and extending his sense of hearing, but it was as unsettlingly quiet as death itself, assuming the image of a safe and empty path. Of course such sense of security could get one killed so he was always looking and listening for trouble as he weeved his way through building alleyways, streets, and under portico's.
He came to where a water fountain still spurted water into a shallow pool below it, most only gathering at the corners. It was hardly the ideal place to drink from but there was much worse to choose from and clean water was an unheard of comodety. He bent over and brought the water to his lips with one hand, which tasted foul and gritty, before he jumped as he heard the echoe of a gun shut not far off and tried to discern which direction it had come from.
He tensed edgily as more followed, an obvious fire-fight, probably between rival gangs. After some indecision he took to one direction that sounded as if unoccupied by those shooting, taking off down the street and looking for the next best alley to duck down before he got caught in the fray as well. Perhaps he would even be lucky enough to find the tunnels to duck into.
Blue eyes overshadowed by dirty brown hair peaked out into a back-lot between many different buildings, the rusted, paint-peeled husks of cars the only sign that there may have once been life here, but at the moment it was clear of any signs of other inhabitants. Continuing to look cautiously and waiting for a while to see if anyone may have been in hiding or decided to pass through, it was a while yet before the youth squeezed underneath the sliding metal door of what had once been the shipping intake for some sort of store, where the delivery trucks would once back up and unload a whole palet of products. Now it was rusted and refused to budge more than a few inches, the mechanics on it long having stuck, and the lights above it having burned out years ago.
The temporary, newest dwelling was small, not cramped but only large enough to comfortably house a single occupant and whatever meager belongings they possessed. The rodents that scurred in and out of it made the living a little more constricted for space.
The opening beneath the door was marginal at best, the young male having to shimmey his body and scrape flesh a little against rough concrete to get out. A definite annoyance but also an extra measure of safety for the small boy. Only others just as small or smaller, who posed little threat, would be able to get inside, and anyone bigger probably wouldn't even try. Ignoring scraped elbows, he cast another glance in every direction, even up to building rooftops, straining his senses for any distant noises that signified life, but there were none that he could detect.
Any windows in tall brick and concrete buildings that looked into the alley were dark, suggesting lack of inhabitants that may have been watching. That didn't mean they couldn't appear, but he was well versed in the signs of what to look and watch out for. Pulling a pack from inside what he had used as a temporary home, one he may or may not return to depending on how they day played out, as was often the case, he slung a pack onto his back that held a few possesions. Hanging in the pockets of the side were a pack of matches and some held flares, just in case, and an oil lamp further in his pack for when he'd need more constant light. For now, it would only draw him unwanted attention, and he had to be careful not to waste what light sources he did have for when the creatures came out.
With one last look, just in case, he darted along the alley and through the city, passing through alleyways and under archway tunnels that went through buildings and under bridges. He had a general idea of the territories, and the usual schedules of when and where the gangs patrolled. Most couldn't and didn't survive solo, especially not in the Above ground instead of the tunnels. Most relied on a gang which ruled lawlessly and without restraint, terrorizing the others trying to survive, warring on other Gangs and trying to build their numbers. Some were nothing short of an army. He was one of the few that managed in the Above without a group.
It simply came down to, he didn't trust others. Even to team up on nuetral ground, giving trust and being reliant could be deadly. Backstabbers were everywhere, as common as the stagnent air and the piled corpses that lined the street. What was left of the corpses after the scavengers and creatures anyway. It was common for him to have to step around and over them, to avoid snapping bones underfoot and alerting nearby people or creatures to his presence that would otherwise overlook him.
Stones crumbled down from the tunnel cieling as filthy water unfit fit drinking trickled through cracks, clattering noisely in the tunnel but otherwise went unnoticed as the typical noise of the settling city remnants. Sparks showered off of the few electrical systems that still clung to life, and fingers deftly traced along the cold wall to give a sense of direction and make navigation easy in the darkness, steps light and soundless but purposeful.
Once again caution was dominant as he exited the tunnel, casting a wary look around and extending his sense of hearing, but it was as unsettlingly quiet as death itself, assuming the image of a safe and empty path. Of course such sense of security could get one killed so he was always looking and listening for trouble as he weeved his way through building alleyways, streets, and under portico's.
He came to where a water fountain still spurted water into a shallow pool below it, most only gathering at the corners. It was hardly the ideal place to drink from but there was much worse to choose from and clean water was an unheard of comodety. He bent over and brought the water to his lips with one hand, which tasted foul and gritty, before he jumped as he heard the echoe of a gun shut not far off and tried to discern which direction it had come from.
He tensed edgily as more followed, an obvious fire-fight, probably between rival gangs. After some indecision he took to one direction that sounded as if unoccupied by those shooting, taking off down the street and looking for the next best alley to duck down before he got caught in the fray as well. Perhaps he would even be lucky enough to find the tunnels to duck into.