Entry tags:
Tyranny, meet anarchy
The city of Eantasyl is fortunate in its placement, and is considered old for even an elven city. The streets are some kind of shimmery stone, the buildings neatly arranged and well maintained. It's pleasant, and generally considered a nice place for the rich to retire. There's a noticeable lack of greenery and foliage on the streets themselves - the place is kept very dense, and it's can be guessed that its citizens thought they had enough foliage already. It sits at the base of one of the very first world trees. One could be forgiven for missing the city for the tree - it's several thousand feet tall, and its branches bring shade to more than half of Eantasyl. They do not need gardens. They have enough to spare, up in the sky.
(The leaves are a pain to rake.)
Despite many of its flaws (and there are many) the Sunrise Empire isn't actually a horrible place to live. This place especially. Just steer clear of the government, keep your head down, don't join any rebellions, and don't break any laws, and you'll be fine. Probably. Unless there are dangerous criminals running around, causing trouble.
But that hardly ever happens. The Ministry has it all under control.
(The leaves are a pain to rake.)
Despite many of its flaws (and there are many) the Sunrise Empire isn't actually a horrible place to live. This place especially. Just steer clear of the government, keep your head down, don't join any rebellions, and don't break any laws, and you'll be fine. Probably. Unless there are dangerous criminals running around, causing trouble.
But that hardly ever happens. The Ministry has it all under control.
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Unfortunately, it turns out that the multiverse has other plans.
With a distinct "WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP" noise, a green box about the size of a phonebooth appears in one of the immaculately kept alleyways.
A girl pokes her head out of the door and looks around, tossing her electric-blue braids as she surveys the area. She holds one finger to the mouth of her shark-toothed rocket launcher.
"Shh, Fishbones! You're gonna give us away!"
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Her eyes catch one of the roots of the tree, and she follows it, up, and up, and up, and up...
Her lips part in a unabashed grin. She has a target.
Now then, is anywhere around here that's not so obnoxiously clean?
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But there are sewers, whose entrances are obnoxiously labeled, 'AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY' in big red letters. In several places.
The interiors of those are only mostly immaculate. There's a smudge, on that wall over there.
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"... Uh? Miss?" he says, confused. "Are you lost?"
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"It's nice to meet you, um, Jinx," says the elf, blinking. "Um, I mean, if you follow Central Street north you'll reach it eventually. Er. Are you from out of town?"
He is not so subtly peering at her blue hair and rounded ears. Obviously confused.
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His clothes look like a uniform with a long jacket. There's a set of crystals attached to the front of it, and a patch on his shoulder that's likely designating him as an Official Authorized Personnel.
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Jinx kicks up a foot against the wall, leaving behind a distinct print from her heavy combat boots.
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"Oh, um. My inspectors. And the people that maintain the place. I get paid, and it's not like it's hard." Shrug.
... He picks up his scrubber, and goes back to his smudge. Scrub scrub. Scrub.
"Sorry, um, I have quotas. It'll be my head if any of this is messed up. Or worse, vandalized." He shudders. Scrub scrub scrub.
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She pulls out another can of spraypaint and tosses it to the elf.
"Wanna try something new and crazy?"
Her eyes are somehow even pinker than before.
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"Define 'new and crazy'?" he asks, nervously, inspecting the spraypaint, bringing it close to his face. He successfully figures out how to press the button. While it is aimed at his face.
He yelps and drops it, and rubs at his now pinkened face.
"What was that, what did that do?! I can't see, I'm blind! Help!"
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"But. But. B-b-but -" He looks at the can of spraypaint in his hand. He looks at the paint on his fingers, rubbed off from his face. He experimentally touches the wall, leaving pink. He looks between it, and his scrubber. Experimentally, he scrubs it. He only succeeds in smudging it around more.
"There's no way I'm getting out of this, is there," he mumbles. He looks at the can of spraypaint. He looks at the wall. "... Fuck it. I hated this job anyway."
He cackles, and proceeds to draw a rather explicit picture on the wall, helpfully labelled 'What you assholes do to each other.' What the assholes in question do to each other is really not PG.
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Then she tosses another can of spraypaint at the elf and starts sauntering off along the corridor, whistling faintly.
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She heads off in the direction that looks least-well-maintained - other than the one she came from - leaving the elf to his work.
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The least-well-maintained direction doesn't have anyone in it. It has two wall smudges. Someone needs to call the elven janitor because this place is a pigsty.
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There are more smudges on the wall. Also, a sign that says, 'WORLD TREE NUTRITION PLANT.' It is complete with an arrow. How helpful!
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