Luci tightens her hoodie as she walks quickly across a freeway overpass on a cold night in Tier 5. She runs her hand along one of the chain-link fences that border the overpass, watching the traffic below. The artificial darkness emboldens her.
Luci takes a deep breath and becomes, to any watchful observer, transparent. She walks through the chain-link fence, and then exhales, and her body assumes its normal opacity. She hurriedly paints a glowing neon chrysanthemum onto the side of the bridge. It seems to pulse with a steady light. She climbs back up, takes a deep breath, and phases through the fence again. She continues on her way, unaware of the figure in the darkness watching her every move.
***
Luci yawns on her way home from a double-shift, looking forward to a good nap. She is riding a golden bicycle with a playing card clacking against the back tire. She turns down an ally and sees a figure lying in the middle of the road. She screeches to a halt and peers over her handlebars, and she sees that it is a mannequin in blue jeans with a burn hole in it's chest. The word 'Jimmy' is written across his face.
"Hands! Lemme see those hands!" a gruff voice yells from behind Luci. She does not move, which seems to anger the yeller. "I'm not fucking around, put those fucking hands up!"
Luci does not put her hands up.
She hears a whirring sound, and a bolt of blue fire zooms over Luci's shoulder and hits the mannequin in the face, leaving a smoking black hole where the word 'Jimmy' was.
Luci puts her hands up.
"Better. Now real slow like, take your money, and tuck it into Jimmy's pocket," the voice snarls.
Luci slowly tucks a small wad of glowing bills into the mannequin's pocket.
"Good. Real good," the voice growls. "Next month, you come back this way, you come see Jimmy again. You ever have a problem, come tuck a note into Jimmy's pocket, we'll take care of it. Now get back on your fucking bike and fuck off."
Luci does not look back as she rides off. On the way home, she notices that her chrysanthemum had been vandalized; someone has rendered it in greyscale.
***
In a crowded nightclub on Tier 4, during another split shift, Luci ducks a thrown beer bottle intended for an orc in a white tracksuit. The bottle thrower is a rowdy Slytherin flanked by several oily friends, all of them in matching black leather jackets. The jackets have been embroidered on the back with a large cobra and the word 'Slytherins' at the top and 'Tier 6' on the bottom. The Slytherins are yelling insults at the orc and and levitating various items and throwing them at him. The orc stares at the Slytherins, unmoving.
Luci signals security, but they do not see her. A second orc, this one in a red tracksuit, walks up next to the first orc. They exchange a few words, and the orc in the red track suit pulls out a very strange looking gun.
Luci has a belief; weapons come in many different shapes and sizes, but people know death when they see it, whether looking down the barrel of a revolver or (as in this case) an odd collection of glowing tubes and spheres crackling with electricity.
Patrons scream and duck out of the way. The orc guns down the Slytherins in a hale of blue fireballs. Each shot that lands sears away flesh down to the bone, and the rate of fire is horrifying. The Slytherins scream in agony as they try to retreat out the back door.
The orc dodges their clumsy hexes and follows the survivors out the back, flanked by his friend. Luci doesn't see whats happens next, but she hears the weapon discharge again a few times outside. She would later learn that in addition to the three Slytherins and six innocent club-goers killed inside the club, the orc would kill two more Slytherins outside the club, and disappear in a yellow Prius.
Luci leaves early so she does not have to make a statement.
***
Luci eyes a strange wriggling fruit in a farmer's market on Tier 5. The alien selling them does not appeared as interested as she is. She overhears a conversation between two young vampires.
"Hey did you see that throw-up on Hover Ave?" one of them asks. Luci's ears perk up.
"Yeah that um, what was it? The flower right? Yeah I didn't see it before Klowdy got to it though. He painted it all black and grey," his friend responds, holding up an amulet to see it glitter in the artificial sunlight.
"Klowdy? Oh the knife ear. Yeah, he's all moody and shit lately," says the other vampire, deftly grabbing some black eyeliner off the table and stowing it in his pockets. "But what do you expect? The orcs blasted a dozen of his boys over the last month."
***
Luci sits and sips a cup of glowing rainbow coffee in a small Alderon-themed cafe in Teir-5. Across from her sits the infamous Klowdy, young leader of the Westside Knife Ear Warriors. He has a soft face smudged with white war paint, and feathers in his long blond hair. His gang lounges awkwardly behind him, a motley collection of elves in a mix of Native-American garb and modern street fashion, leaning on their long bows and smoking cigarettes. Klowdy speaks earnestly.
"It's not just the Slytherins," Klowdy says, stirring. "The orcs have wiped out Westside Ewok Gang, and some Ewok kids while they were at it. They gunned down Pop-Eye and his girl in broad daylight, and their war with the Hut Mafia is the bloodiest in recent history. And it's not just that," Klowdy sips his coffee, seeming to look for the words.
"Things are just worse now. You can't walk down the street without getting mugged or worse. I've seen children on hard drugs. Civilians are dropping left and right. The Empire is breathing down everyone's neck. And everyone just keeps dying," Klowdy says. He and his gang stare at the floor sadly.
"We know how the orcs are getting their weapons," the elf continues. "They smuggle them in from Teir-2 disguised as electronics, then reassemble
them in Teir-6. This time though, they're never going to reach Tier-6. We're going to intercept them on Tier-4, and you're going to help us do it. I've seen what you can do," Klowdy says squarely. "I've been keeping an eye on you. And we need you."
Luci stares at him. She does not seem to believe that the needs of the Westside Knife Ear Warriors should affect her very much.
"Look, we're not even keeping all the weapons. The best thing for us to do, strategically, is distribute a good bit of the haul to civilians," Klowdy says.
Luci does not seem convinced.
"Really," he insists. "The orcs have ripped through our ranks, we'll end up with more guns than people to hold them. If we hand them out to civilians and shop owners they'll help curb the orc threat, at least here in Tier-5."
Luci does not seem convinced.
"And if you help, we'll cut you in some Om for your trouble," the elf says, grinning a little.
Luci sips her coffee quietly.
After a while, she speaks.
"Yeah, OK."
Luci takes a deep breath and becomes, to any watchful observer, transparent. She walks through the chain-link fence, and then exhales, and her body assumes its normal opacity. She hurriedly paints a glowing neon chrysanthemum onto the side of the bridge. It seems to pulse with a steady light. She climbs back up, takes a deep breath, and phases through the fence again. She continues on her way, unaware of the figure in the darkness watching her every move.
***
Luci yawns on her way home from a double-shift, looking forward to a good nap. She is riding a golden bicycle with a playing card clacking against the back tire. She turns down an ally and sees a figure lying in the middle of the road. She screeches to a halt and peers over her handlebars, and she sees that it is a mannequin in blue jeans with a burn hole in it's chest. The word 'Jimmy' is written across his face.
"Hands! Lemme see those hands!" a gruff voice yells from behind Luci. She does not move, which seems to anger the yeller. "I'm not fucking around, put those fucking hands up!"
Luci does not put her hands up.
She hears a whirring sound, and a bolt of blue fire zooms over Luci's shoulder and hits the mannequin in the face, leaving a smoking black hole where the word 'Jimmy' was.
Luci puts her hands up.
"Better. Now real slow like, take your money, and tuck it into Jimmy's pocket," the voice snarls.
Luci slowly tucks a small wad of glowing bills into the mannequin's pocket.
"Good. Real good," the voice growls. "Next month, you come back this way, you come see Jimmy again. You ever have a problem, come tuck a note into Jimmy's pocket, we'll take care of it. Now get back on your fucking bike and fuck off."
Luci does not look back as she rides off. On the way home, she notices that her chrysanthemum had been vandalized; someone has rendered it in greyscale.
***
In a crowded nightclub on Tier 4, during another split shift, Luci ducks a thrown beer bottle intended for an orc in a white tracksuit. The bottle thrower is a rowdy Slytherin flanked by several oily friends, all of them in matching black leather jackets. The jackets have been embroidered on the back with a large cobra and the word 'Slytherins' at the top and 'Tier 6' on the bottom. The Slytherins are yelling insults at the orc and and levitating various items and throwing them at him. The orc stares at the Slytherins, unmoving.
Luci signals security, but they do not see her. A second orc, this one in a red tracksuit, walks up next to the first orc. They exchange a few words, and the orc in the red track suit pulls out a very strange looking gun.
Luci has a belief; weapons come in many different shapes and sizes, but people know death when they see it, whether looking down the barrel of a revolver or (as in this case) an odd collection of glowing tubes and spheres crackling with electricity.
Patrons scream and duck out of the way. The orc guns down the Slytherins in a hale of blue fireballs. Each shot that lands sears away flesh down to the bone, and the rate of fire is horrifying. The Slytherins scream in agony as they try to retreat out the back door.
The orc dodges their clumsy hexes and follows the survivors out the back, flanked by his friend. Luci doesn't see whats happens next, but she hears the weapon discharge again a few times outside. She would later learn that in addition to the three Slytherins and six innocent club-goers killed inside the club, the orc would kill two more Slytherins outside the club, and disappear in a yellow Prius.
Luci leaves early so she does not have to make a statement.
***
Luci eyes a strange wriggling fruit in a farmer's market on Tier 5. The alien selling them does not appeared as interested as she is. She overhears a conversation between two young vampires.
"Hey did you see that throw-up on Hover Ave?" one of them asks. Luci's ears perk up.
"Yeah that um, what was it? The flower right? Yeah I didn't see it before Klowdy got to it though. He painted it all black and grey," his friend responds, holding up an amulet to see it glitter in the artificial sunlight.
"Klowdy? Oh the knife ear. Yeah, he's all moody and shit lately," says the other vampire, deftly grabbing some black eyeliner off the table and stowing it in his pockets. "But what do you expect? The orcs blasted a dozen of his boys over the last month."
***
Luci sits and sips a cup of glowing rainbow coffee in a small Alderon-themed cafe in Teir-5. Across from her sits the infamous Klowdy, young leader of the Westside Knife Ear Warriors. He has a soft face smudged with white war paint, and feathers in his long blond hair. His gang lounges awkwardly behind him, a motley collection of elves in a mix of Native-American garb and modern street fashion, leaning on their long bows and smoking cigarettes. Klowdy speaks earnestly.
"It's not just the Slytherins," Klowdy says, stirring. "The orcs have wiped out Westside Ewok Gang, and some Ewok kids while they were at it. They gunned down Pop-Eye and his girl in broad daylight, and their war with the Hut Mafia is the bloodiest in recent history. And it's not just that," Klowdy sips his coffee, seeming to look for the words.
"Things are just worse now. You can't walk down the street without getting mugged or worse. I've seen children on hard drugs. Civilians are dropping left and right. The Empire is breathing down everyone's neck. And everyone just keeps dying," Klowdy says. He and his gang stare at the floor sadly.
"We know how the orcs are getting their weapons," the elf continues. "They smuggle them in from Teir-2 disguised as electronics, then reassemble
them in Teir-6. This time though, they're never going to reach Tier-6. We're going to intercept them on Tier-4, and you're going to help us do it. I've seen what you can do," Klowdy says squarely. "I've been keeping an eye on you. And we need you."
Luci stares at him. She does not seem to believe that the needs of the Westside Knife Ear Warriors should affect her very much.
"Look, we're not even keeping all the weapons. The best thing for us to do, strategically, is distribute a good bit of the haul to civilians," Klowdy says.
Luci does not seem convinced.
"Really," he insists. "The orcs have ripped through our ranks, we'll end up with more guns than people to hold them. If we hand them out to civilians and shop owners they'll help curb the orc threat, at least here in Tier-5."
Luci does not seem convinced.
"And if you help, we'll cut you in some Om for your trouble," the elf says, grinning a little.
Luci sips her coffee quietly.
After a while, she speaks.
"Yeah, OK."
![[Image: V4Dvvfy.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/V4Dvvfy.gif)