Post by Ray Hudson on May 5, 2012 12:43:25 GMT -5
Glass Knife
November 19, 2516 - Tilottama
7:13 PM Local Time
High in the black sky above their heads, several ships were taking off and sailing out of Tilottama’s atmosphere. The moon was mostly covered in cities with only small patches of land kept barren. If someone desired to go to one of those bare regions, one would have to go quite a ways to get there. The moon was terraformed nearly a century ago and in the last one hundred years, stratification had come into effect. The cities have been split up into the many social classes ranging from the joyous upper class, upper middle, middle, lower middle and the pitiable lower class. Tilottama is a very warm place leaving its inhabitants usually complaining about the heat. The Alliance presence on the world is light, with most of its involvement concerning only the higher class and business ordeals. The local police do a decent job at keeping the peace were it is expected to be kept, with the lower class left in darkness and the upper and middle class maintaining an enjoyable level of quiet. Tilottama boasts that they produce the greatest minds in business in the 'verse but it's uncertain whether that is true or not but because of this claim, many of its citizens seek a career in business.
Tilottama's docks were mostly empty, with most of the ships taking off and venturing towards other moons and worlds. There were several men hanging around the docks handing out pamphlets to the people leaving the area.
A man in an unzipped, black hoodie walked by several of the pamphlet handing men. The man's hoodie was solid black with no lettering or brand labeled on it. His shirt was brown with the words 'I.P. Productions' on the chest and a small, cartoon, plastic penguin stood next to the words. The shirt was fairly old with the letters and penguin mostly worn out from several washings. The man’s pants were a very dark blue and his shoes were solid black walking shoes. He had two bags with him, one slung on his shoulder and the other he held in his left hand by its straps.
Eventually one of the pamphlet men made eye contact with the man in the black hoodie and extended his tiny sheets of paper at him. The man stopped for a moment and took the pamphlet, then kept walking. Once he reached a short bit of distance, the man looked at the booklet. Most of the front was covered in an image of Jesus Christ, staring of into the distance like an action hero with a look on his face like he was trying to remember where he parked. The only words on the front were 'Our Savior' in fancy gold lettering. Rather than opening it and reading on, like it was intended, instead he crumpled it up in his hand and tossed it to the side.
Once outside of the docks the man made his way towards the street. Once there he waited impatiently for the cab he called just before the ship he was on had landed. The sun had just come down where he was and the street lights were all being turned on. After twelve minutes of waiting, the sleek, glossy green cab landed in front of him and its trunk opened. The man went to the back of the cab, placed his bags inside and walked towards the back of the vehicle. When he reached the door to the back seat, the door opened for him while the trunk closed on its own. Once inside, the cab driver turned around and she carried a cheery smile. Her hair was colored with cheap blue dye and it was put up in a messy knot. She looked very tired, shown with dark circles under her eyes but she still kept a bright smile on her face. The combination of her strange hair, tired face and large smile led the man to believe that the stereotype about all cab drivers being insane was true.
"So, were am I takin' yuh'?" She asked with enthusiasm that contradicted her fatigued face.
The man told her where he wanted to go and they took off. He noticed how cold it was in the cab and he crossed his arms to try and keep warm. The driver felt the need to strike up a conversation and the two initiated in small talk. It was all simple stuff, why was he visiting, where he was from, what does he do. The small talk didn't last long however, the man showed signs that he didn't feel like doing much talking and she picked up on this. The man didn't enjoy meeting new people and he preferred silence over banter with strangers, especially strange cab drivers.
Flying over several areas of the city 'Glass Knife', the man stared out of the tinted window. After about twenty minutes they reached their destination. It was a nice residential area in, what they called, the Veronica District. Several of the houses liked similar on the street they were on, with only a select few varying in size or design. The house they stopped in front of was a two story, yellow home. It had a nice garden in front and the home looked like it was painted recently. It looked like the kind of home you would see in a commercial for home owners insurance, it looked like something you would miss if it was gone. It was idyllic and comforting, one could imagine children playing in the front yard while mother prepared lunch and father did the taxes. You could practically hear mother and father yelling and screaming at each other in front of the children about how he's always out on his 'business trips' and she spends too much time at the 'gym'. "YOU'RE A BLOODSUCKING SUCCUBUS WHOSE ONLY DESIRE IS TO DRAIN MY BANK ACCOUNT TO A POINT WHERE I CAN'T EVEN AFFORD A NOOSE TO HANG MYSELF WITH!!" The father would exclaim, bourbon on his breath.
The man paid the driver her money stepped out of the cab, removed his bags from the trunk and the cab flew off. He approached the front door of the yellow house and gave it two knocks. After only a moment of waiting, the door opened, revealing an older woman with blonde hair and skin held together only by the grace of plastic surgery. She was 52 years old but she looked 20 years younger thanks to money, exercise and more money. If she had more money she would have made herself look 30 years younger but she had made several sacrifices in her life. It wasn't just plastic surgery that made her look younger, she also wore overpriced makeup that the commercials claimed to remove wrinkles. The makeup also made her look a little slutty but in a way, that was the look she was going for. She was wearing a black tank top, hoop earrings, several bracelets and jeans. The woman was trying desperately to disguise what she was. She was an attractive woman, her son’s friends had crushes on her when they were children. What bothered them was that when they had reached adulthood, she still looked the same. Whoever her surgeon was, he was fantastic.
When the woman opened the door and saw who was there, her face expressed glee. She expanded her arms and wrapped them around the man."Ray!" She squealed, Ray returning the embrace. "It's so good to see you!" the woman cooed, squeezing tighter.
"You too" Ray replied. Eventually the woman released Ray and took a step back. She called him in and Ray entered the home, closing the door behind him.
This home was very well lit and clean. The ceilings were high, something that Ray loved, and the wood floors were chipped in certain areas. Many paintings covered the walls with some being very simple and large while others were complex and small. The furniture was worn and old but they were purchased that way, and they cost extra to look that way. The walls were painted an off white color and the floors were a dark brown. The kitchen was a beautiful piece of work with clean counters and a gorgeous dining area. the dark black fridge was state of the art and the cabinets and cupboards were nicely done. The living area held many bookshelves containing books that no one in the house would read and a home entertainment system that beckoned any slacker to spend an eternity in its warm embrace.
"Franco told me you were coming. The guest room is yours, like always." She told Ray while they walked deeper into the home.
"Thanks Marcy" said Ray. Once the two of them reached the living area, they stopped walking and faced each other again. Marcy took a seat in an'old' leather chair and Ray sat on a similar one across from her. It was silent for a moment until Ray continued speaking. "So is Moon here?" He asked, wondering why his friend wasn't the one to greet him.
"Oh, no, he already went to Jordan and Amy's." She answered.
Mother fucker. Ray thought to himself. He didn't like the idea of Moon leaving him to talk to his mother. Ray didn't dislike Moons mother. In fact, Ray was one of the children who had a crush on Moon's mother, but he still didn't like being left alone with her. He and Marcy had little in common so most of their conversations were awkward and forced, so Ray tried to avoid them most of the time. He also used to masturbate thinking about Marcy so that added to the awkwardness when speaking to her. "Oh, so should I just..." Ray turned towards the hallway that led to the guest room. "drop my stuff off in my room and head over there?" He asked.
"Anything you want dear." She answered. Ray smiled and stood from his chair but before he could start walking, Marcy continued. "Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?" She asked, wanting to be a good host.
"No thank you. I think I'll eat over there." Ray answered, not wanting to be a bother.
"You sure? I can make you something real quick." She persisted.
"No thanks, I'm okay." Ray denied, politely.
Once that was done Ray made his way towards his room. The hallway leading there was beneath a set of stairs and the only rooms down there were the guest room and a bathroom. Once Ray was halfway down the hall, Marcy remembered something and brought it to Ray's attention. "Oh, Amy was here earlier. I told her and Franco to clean up the room for you, so everything should be nice and ready."
"Thanks Marcy" He said, finally reaching the door to his room. It was the guest room but because Ray was the only one who used it, Moon and Marcy usually just refer to it as his. Usually Ray was the only one who went into the guest room, so the fact that Moon and Amy went inside to clean came as a surprise to Ray. Marcy walked up the stairs and went to her room, with the intention to watch programs on the cortex.
When Ray reached the door to his room a strange scent entered his nostrils and his eyebrows arched in confusion. The stench was foreign to Ray at first but soon he began to recognize it. He opened the door and stepped inside but it was too dark to see, so he placed his hand on the wall to his left and slide it around until he found the light switch. Once he found it he flicked the switch up and the room was illuminated. The light revealed something that Ray would have rather left unseen.
"Really." He said aloud.
The word 'Cocksucker' was spelled out in red on the wall in front of him, written in instantly drying paint. The paint can lay toppled on its side, on top of the bed Ray would be sleeping on. Whatever was left in the can was now crusted onto the only bed in the room. Small, crude, drawings of stick figures performing fellatio on one another were painted all over the furniture in the room, leaving no surface without the vulgar image. Ray walked over to the bed, placed his hand on it and pushed down lightly, The dry paint cracking under the pressure. He sighed, dropped his bags on the floor, walked out of the room and shut the door behind him
November 19, 2516 - Tilottama
7:13 PM Local Time
High in the black sky above their heads, several ships were taking off and sailing out of Tilottama’s atmosphere. The moon was mostly covered in cities with only small patches of land kept barren. If someone desired to go to one of those bare regions, one would have to go quite a ways to get there. The moon was terraformed nearly a century ago and in the last one hundred years, stratification had come into effect. The cities have been split up into the many social classes ranging from the joyous upper class, upper middle, middle, lower middle and the pitiable lower class. Tilottama is a very warm place leaving its inhabitants usually complaining about the heat. The Alliance presence on the world is light, with most of its involvement concerning only the higher class and business ordeals. The local police do a decent job at keeping the peace were it is expected to be kept, with the lower class left in darkness and the upper and middle class maintaining an enjoyable level of quiet. Tilottama boasts that they produce the greatest minds in business in the 'verse but it's uncertain whether that is true or not but because of this claim, many of its citizens seek a career in business.
Tilottama's docks were mostly empty, with most of the ships taking off and venturing towards other moons and worlds. There were several men hanging around the docks handing out pamphlets to the people leaving the area.
A man in an unzipped, black hoodie walked by several of the pamphlet handing men. The man's hoodie was solid black with no lettering or brand labeled on it. His shirt was brown with the words 'I.P. Productions' on the chest and a small, cartoon, plastic penguin stood next to the words. The shirt was fairly old with the letters and penguin mostly worn out from several washings. The man’s pants were a very dark blue and his shoes were solid black walking shoes. He had two bags with him, one slung on his shoulder and the other he held in his left hand by its straps.
Eventually one of the pamphlet men made eye contact with the man in the black hoodie and extended his tiny sheets of paper at him. The man stopped for a moment and took the pamphlet, then kept walking. Once he reached a short bit of distance, the man looked at the booklet. Most of the front was covered in an image of Jesus Christ, staring of into the distance like an action hero with a look on his face like he was trying to remember where he parked. The only words on the front were 'Our Savior' in fancy gold lettering. Rather than opening it and reading on, like it was intended, instead he crumpled it up in his hand and tossed it to the side.
Once outside of the docks the man made his way towards the street. Once there he waited impatiently for the cab he called just before the ship he was on had landed. The sun had just come down where he was and the street lights were all being turned on. After twelve minutes of waiting, the sleek, glossy green cab landed in front of him and its trunk opened. The man went to the back of the cab, placed his bags inside and walked towards the back of the vehicle. When he reached the door to the back seat, the door opened for him while the trunk closed on its own. Once inside, the cab driver turned around and she carried a cheery smile. Her hair was colored with cheap blue dye and it was put up in a messy knot. She looked very tired, shown with dark circles under her eyes but she still kept a bright smile on her face. The combination of her strange hair, tired face and large smile led the man to believe that the stereotype about all cab drivers being insane was true.
"So, were am I takin' yuh'?" She asked with enthusiasm that contradicted her fatigued face.
The man told her where he wanted to go and they took off. He noticed how cold it was in the cab and he crossed his arms to try and keep warm. The driver felt the need to strike up a conversation and the two initiated in small talk. It was all simple stuff, why was he visiting, where he was from, what does he do. The small talk didn't last long however, the man showed signs that he didn't feel like doing much talking and she picked up on this. The man didn't enjoy meeting new people and he preferred silence over banter with strangers, especially strange cab drivers.
Flying over several areas of the city 'Glass Knife', the man stared out of the tinted window. After about twenty minutes they reached their destination. It was a nice residential area in, what they called, the Veronica District. Several of the houses liked similar on the street they were on, with only a select few varying in size or design. The house they stopped in front of was a two story, yellow home. It had a nice garden in front and the home looked like it was painted recently. It looked like the kind of home you would see in a commercial for home owners insurance, it looked like something you would miss if it was gone. It was idyllic and comforting, one could imagine children playing in the front yard while mother prepared lunch and father did the taxes. You could practically hear mother and father yelling and screaming at each other in front of the children about how he's always out on his 'business trips' and she spends too much time at the 'gym'. "YOU'RE A BLOODSUCKING SUCCUBUS WHOSE ONLY DESIRE IS TO DRAIN MY BANK ACCOUNT TO A POINT WHERE I CAN'T EVEN AFFORD A NOOSE TO HANG MYSELF WITH!!" The father would exclaim, bourbon on his breath.
The man paid the driver her money stepped out of the cab, removed his bags from the trunk and the cab flew off. He approached the front door of the yellow house and gave it two knocks. After only a moment of waiting, the door opened, revealing an older woman with blonde hair and skin held together only by the grace of plastic surgery. She was 52 years old but she looked 20 years younger thanks to money, exercise and more money. If she had more money she would have made herself look 30 years younger but she had made several sacrifices in her life. It wasn't just plastic surgery that made her look younger, she also wore overpriced makeup that the commercials claimed to remove wrinkles. The makeup also made her look a little slutty but in a way, that was the look she was going for. She was wearing a black tank top, hoop earrings, several bracelets and jeans. The woman was trying desperately to disguise what she was. She was an attractive woman, her son’s friends had crushes on her when they were children. What bothered them was that when they had reached adulthood, she still looked the same. Whoever her surgeon was, he was fantastic.
When the woman opened the door and saw who was there, her face expressed glee. She expanded her arms and wrapped them around the man."Ray!" She squealed, Ray returning the embrace. "It's so good to see you!" the woman cooed, squeezing tighter.
"You too" Ray replied. Eventually the woman released Ray and took a step back. She called him in and Ray entered the home, closing the door behind him.
This home was very well lit and clean. The ceilings were high, something that Ray loved, and the wood floors were chipped in certain areas. Many paintings covered the walls with some being very simple and large while others were complex and small. The furniture was worn and old but they were purchased that way, and they cost extra to look that way. The walls were painted an off white color and the floors were a dark brown. The kitchen was a beautiful piece of work with clean counters and a gorgeous dining area. the dark black fridge was state of the art and the cabinets and cupboards were nicely done. The living area held many bookshelves containing books that no one in the house would read and a home entertainment system that beckoned any slacker to spend an eternity in its warm embrace.
"Franco told me you were coming. The guest room is yours, like always." She told Ray while they walked deeper into the home.
"Thanks Marcy" said Ray. Once the two of them reached the living area, they stopped walking and faced each other again. Marcy took a seat in an'old' leather chair and Ray sat on a similar one across from her. It was silent for a moment until Ray continued speaking. "So is Moon here?" He asked, wondering why his friend wasn't the one to greet him.
"Oh, no, he already went to Jordan and Amy's." She answered.
Mother fucker. Ray thought to himself. He didn't like the idea of Moon leaving him to talk to his mother. Ray didn't dislike Moons mother. In fact, Ray was one of the children who had a crush on Moon's mother, but he still didn't like being left alone with her. He and Marcy had little in common so most of their conversations were awkward and forced, so Ray tried to avoid them most of the time. He also used to masturbate thinking about Marcy so that added to the awkwardness when speaking to her. "Oh, so should I just..." Ray turned towards the hallway that led to the guest room. "drop my stuff off in my room and head over there?" He asked.
"Anything you want dear." She answered. Ray smiled and stood from his chair but before he could start walking, Marcy continued. "Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?" She asked, wanting to be a good host.
"No thank you. I think I'll eat over there." Ray answered, not wanting to be a bother.
"You sure? I can make you something real quick." She persisted.
"No thanks, I'm okay." Ray denied, politely.
Once that was done Ray made his way towards his room. The hallway leading there was beneath a set of stairs and the only rooms down there were the guest room and a bathroom. Once Ray was halfway down the hall, Marcy remembered something and brought it to Ray's attention. "Oh, Amy was here earlier. I told her and Franco to clean up the room for you, so everything should be nice and ready."
"Thanks Marcy" He said, finally reaching the door to his room. It was the guest room but because Ray was the only one who used it, Moon and Marcy usually just refer to it as his. Usually Ray was the only one who went into the guest room, so the fact that Moon and Amy went inside to clean came as a surprise to Ray. Marcy walked up the stairs and went to her room, with the intention to watch programs on the cortex.
When Ray reached the door to his room a strange scent entered his nostrils and his eyebrows arched in confusion. The stench was foreign to Ray at first but soon he began to recognize it. He opened the door and stepped inside but it was too dark to see, so he placed his hand on the wall to his left and slide it around until he found the light switch. Once he found it he flicked the switch up and the room was illuminated. The light revealed something that Ray would have rather left unseen.
"Really." He said aloud.
The word 'Cocksucker' was spelled out in red on the wall in front of him, written in instantly drying paint. The paint can lay toppled on its side, on top of the bed Ray would be sleeping on. Whatever was left in the can was now crusted onto the only bed in the room. Small, crude, drawings of stick figures performing fellatio on one another were painted all over the furniture in the room, leaving no surface without the vulgar image. Ray walked over to the bed, placed his hand on it and pushed down lightly, The dry paint cracking under the pressure. He sighed, dropped his bags on the floor, walked out of the room and shut the door behind him