Vantage
"Sigh…"
The expressed dejection was long and audible as NO1SY watched yet another building crumble. The degradation was eating further and further into the city. It was an indication that the place was in decline. During times of growth, MangaRaiders would manifest new structures on the fringes, while the towers in the inner city would be built just a bit taller, for every new resident that joined and new idea they brought. But there was another side to this dynamism. With the occupation by 4Kids and their efforts to pillage and raze MangaRaiders, they had managed to put a stop to this endless expansion. They had succeeded in both driving out a lot of those who had once called the city their home, forcing them into hiding or submission, as well as warning off anyone new who might have once considered moving into the community.
It was a lazy late afternoon in MangaRaiders. NO1SY leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the railing of the abandoned guard tower that he now claimed as his vantage point, overlooking the fields of devastation. He hummed a bluesy melody and tapped along lightly on his thigh. The Lost Chorus had long since moved on from this outer strata of the districts, consolidating their resources into maintaining their iron grasp on what remained of the inner regions of the city. His stomach rumbled angrily. Not even bloody rats caused trouble out here anymore.
Life in MangaRaiders had gone from bright and exciting polyrhythm with flourishes of madness and beauty, to a dull and sluggish thump, barely keeping time. NO1SY had to resist the urge to sit himself in that pocket. It would be too easy to give in to inaction. Already the days were blurring into one another. Scout, scavenge, eat, sleep, repeat. It had been nearly a month and he needed something to shake things up soon.
"Luckily it’s about time for my daily dose of motivation!" He remarked to himself with a long, satisfying stretch before tapping the headphones slung around his neck. Switching to loud-speaker mode, they fuzzed to life and the familiar, deadpan, weirdly haughty voice of 3.0 slowly cut through the static.
“Bsssshhhhhh…. -nother drab day under the oppressive, warty thumb of martial occupation. Well, you think that’s bad? Try having an antenna as your only appendage! Ba dum tish!” NO1SY never understood these kinds of comments, but he never thought much of it. 3.0 was… idiosyncratic, to put it lightly. “However, dear listeners, do not fear, for the gears of resistance turn ever faster. When they reach terminal velocity, the results will be SPECTACULAR! The rug will be swept from beneath their superfluously polished boots. The illusion of order shall be so undeniably shaken that…”
The ramblings would continue in this vein for a while, as they had for the few weeks he had been here. Strong words. Fighting words. Unnecessarily eccentric words… NO1SY almost couldn’t help but believe them. But as per usual, the stark surrounding view slapped the hope right out of his head. He had been unable to catch wind of this “resistance” that 3.0 promised was out there. There had been no indications of a militia group. No explosions anywhere of note. There was no rioting in the streets. Not even a damned flier with a corny slogan. During an afternoon of scouting NO1SY stumbled upon a burnt out crater in a more industrialised region of the city’s General District. But his optimism was shot down when exploration of available information sources told that the cause was nothing more than an unfortunately catastrophic gas leak that happened back in the spring. And so, NO1SY just leaned back and let the familiar ramblings wash over him, reminiscing about a time when he sat across the table from the peculiar MR Radio host and struggled to choke down his laughter.
“... I wonder where she is now, that dear satellite. We had a beautiful summer fling before she launched past the stratosphere. Mind you, she was quite crass; a quarter second delay would probably do her some good to think about her words before she says them...” There was nothing quite like a 3.0 tangent. “... Anyways, top secret surveillance satellite or not, be aware, dear listeners, that someone is watching. Waiting. And when they return: Heads. Will. Roll… BA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! Get it!? Get it guys!? Hey! Where are you going!? That was a good one!... Here’s three hours of silence as performed by the miserable remnants of the mime infestation of XX15…” NO1SY was left with an eyebrow raised and more than a few questions, but who would he ask them to if not brick dust on the wind.
After a few ponderous moments NO1SY swung his legs off the railings and stood from his chair. He unwound the knots in his back and shoulders, mentally preparing himself to face the next of his evening excursions into the inner city. They were beginning to wear on him though. Sneaking through miles of broken streets, avoiding the watchful eyes of the sentries, was tough enough. Having to hide in the shadows of alleys from faces he recognised was near heartbreaking.
But they all wore the looks of the destitute and defeated. Most were now subject to forced labour positions in either asset redistribution or data mining. Some 4Kids had other plans for. Last week, NO1SY had slipped into a side door leading to the kitchens of a speakeasy-style bar to loot for food. Through the windowed pass, he watched in horror as THE Manimal stood on stage strumming a gaudy guitar that wasn’t plugged in, tears streaming down his face, while being forced to sing the 4Kids One Piece opening rap song over and over again for a crowd of smirking off-duty soldiers.
“... L-A-D-Y, Nami’s not shy…” NO1SY had cringed at every unironic letter. Now he was beginning to think that no one had escaped this vapid hell.
He was about to turn towards the ladder down, when a peculiar sound played on the dry and stagnant breeze. It was a sound he hadn’t heard for quite some time, and it warmed NO1SY to his core as it grew more distinct the closer it came.
It was a casual conversation.
"’Ello ‘ello…?" NO1SY could barely contain his anticipation. Keeping low and out of sight, NO1SY gazed down upon the two figures who steadily clambered their ways through the broken labyrinth below. He had to strain to hear make out the words.
"I’m just saying, if you really think about it… damned rubble… Byleth is the true Mom of the Blue Lions. Who needs Mercedes!?" Of course Devola had found a way to play the latest JRPG during a martial occupation!
"That is quite the picture…" came Echo’s response as she squeezed through a collapsed doorway. Even as high up as he was, NO1SY could tell that she was half rolling her eyes, and half actually considering compositions. "Ouch!" A splinter of jagged wood from the doorframe sliced through Echo’s arm as she passed. Blood splattered onto the dirt, and they stopped while Devola rummaged through his large backpack to find a bandage. "I liked this hoodie…" Echo mourned over her torn sleeve.
"I don’t know how you’ve managed all of this physical activity in a long-sleeve sweater anyway!" Devola retorted as he wrapped her arm.
War had not been kind to them. Their hair was long and unkempt and their clothes were scuffed and stained. They were also packing. Both were decked in (presumably scavenged) combat vests, bandoleers and ammo belts, assault rifles, and they each hauled a long sledgehammer. If NO1SY didn’t know them he would have assumed two hobos had mistaken a military depot for a jewelry store. Devola lugged the pack back onto his shoulders and put a hand to his stomach.
"I am so bored of boiled beans…" complained Devola, "I would kill for a pizza… ya’ know, I bet Kite’s the kinda person to stash canned pizza…"
"There is no way that’s a thing…" They took the last few steps towards the shell of a large building complex. It was a rarity in that it still structurally resembled a building, only one that was punched with as many holes as swiss cheese.
"It better be… this is the fifteenth wall we are hitting today and I’m hungry as heck!” They disappeared through the doorway into the no-doubt nightmare of interior design that most of MangaRaiders’ buildings ascribed to.
NO1SY was beaming.
Nearly three years of solitude, months and months of searching and worry, now weeks of despair, finally over. There were Raiders who had escaped. He had found friends.
Why had he hidden? He should’ve got their attention. Shouted out a greeting. Damn he was out of practice with socialising… I’ve gotta catch up to them, he thought, ignoring the mild butterflies in his stomach and pushing himself up from prone. No sooner had NO1SY clambered to his feet, than he froze once more.
"Oh darn it…" he muttered under his breath, although it felt… wrong. A patrol of eight heavily armed soldiers, clad in black that stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the broken concrete, stalked through the streets. They were one-hundred feet off from the collapsed doorway, which was now highlighted with a fresh pool of blood, and heading towards it. Even with the veritable maze of rubble, there was no way that a well trained patrol would miss something so obvious. The Raiders hadn’t exactly been quiet either. He hadn’t seen a proper patrol out here in weeks. This was more likely a hunt.
NO1SY peered over at the complex that his friends had entered. He wanted badly to join them, to see the looks on their faces as he waltzed in for a reunion after so long. Maybe they were part of the resistance that 3.0 kept yammering on about.
NO1SY allowed his shoulders to slump for all of a second, before he turned in the direction of the soldiers.
"I was never so overtly rebellious anyways…" Already in motion, he slipped on his headphones and gave them a tap. He felt the breeze catch him as he soared to the next closest intact rooftop. His boots barely tapped the ground before he bounded off again, this time skimming lightly along the side of a barely standing wall. He deftly leapt to-and-fro above the eroding jungle, until he was almost right on top of the troops. With one final weightless spring, NO1SY leapt high into the air. He tapped his headphones once more. "Shuffle"
Mass surged within him to match the heft of the jackhammer beat, sending NO1SY careening back down to the ground. His blow cracked a small crater into the street, sending an eruption of dust into the air, throwing one soldier into a wall and leaving two others flattened beneath him. Seems a little weak...? Regardless, that got the rest’s attention. Their rifle barrels snapped towards him in a typical “shoot now, ask questions later” kind of greeting. But the progressive song structure and provocative concept had already taken effect.
NO1SY felt the purity of focus, like crystal clear water. He felt fluid, and changeable like the sea. Tiny details flowed easily through his mind. The group had spread into a semicircle formation before him, with an average of a six foot, eight inches radius. The assailant to his far left was readying a full second and a quarter faster than the rest of his team. The wall behind him was ready to topple. NO1SY was already tucking into a roll towards him. Launching out of the tumble with a bat of his palm, he knocked the muzzle to the side and heard the shot crack off over his shoulder. Someone grunted behind him. As the music transitioned into a thumbing breakdown, NO1SY swung his fists powerfully to the beat, sending the gunman flying into the precarious wall. In a split second, an avalanche of bricks buried another man and sent the next closest stumbling for cover. Before the dust had even settled, NO1SY had kicked a slab from the pile into the guy’s jaw with such force that the brick itself burst on impact.
NO1SY was already riding the speed of tremolo picking across the diameter of the battlefield. Bullets zipped past him and sparked at the concrete at his feet. But he was too fast. NO1SY leapt into a jumping roundhouse kick, which caught the soldier in the side of the helmet and sent him down to eat dirt.
"Oooooooh that hurt..." he complained, bending down to rub his bruised shin. He was next to the body that had taken the bullet. There’s no blood? What is going on? Before he could ponder further, a groan to his right alerted him to a soldier (the one who was knocked away from the crater) coming to. The man clumsily pushed himself up the wall and fumbled to bring his gun up. Without hesitation, NO1SY whipped his handgun from his leg holster and…
A BANG! echoed across the empty district sky...
NO1SY stood there looking completely bewildered by what had just transpired. Then, when it all clicked, he quickly bubbled into anger. He had spent too long just going through the motions while under the weight of 4Kids’ oppressive hold on the city.
"Oh no no no! No one gets to censor me without my bloody permission!" He fired off his gun again. Then again. And again and again and again and again. Each violent CRACK wrestled the gaping, gory hole in the soldier’s chest further into focus, which itself was a scope to the viscous, bloody, boney soup that splattered the concrete behind. "Much better."
A little red light blinked on the side of the soldier’s helmet, right above a small lense. They had seen him. More would come. Echo and Devola were probably still nearby. Guess I’m the distraction... He could already feel his body protesting the upcoming afternoon of very big cat and very tiny mouse. NO1SY sneered at the camera.
And he gave his viewers a huge middle finger.
Topic: MR War Arc: NO1SY (Read 9583 times)
