Weapon made his way through the battery lined streets, old rotten nostalgia mixed with the nostalgia of anxiety and oppression. This was his birthplace, but it was also hell. When he was here in the beginning he was kept mostly inside the labs, nevertheless the rigid white and order leaked into the streets like some anti-plague that no one wanted. It made his skin crawl and his muscles tense. Getting into the city via the underground passage was the easy part, just walking through the place and keeping a straight head was the hard part. It wasn’t even so much that if he was noticed he would have to fight to the death to stay free, that part would be fun. It was that this place was everything that was wrong with the world. Enslaving humans with mandatory drugs, forcing lulling words of law and order into their brains, creating life with droids just to enslave them too for the hard labor and dirty work. Not like the human race hadn’t done it before. But this place birthed the reinvention of it. This place was the kingdom of rotted human morale, made to flourish and sustain until the next big extinction event.
“I’ll be your fucking extinction event.” He muttered to himself under the clear plastic mask, decorated with make-up and smiles just enough to not disguise the face underneath.
But all this was worth it, just to see his cowering complacent beloved, the draculoid dredge that pumped feelings into his head for the first time ever, way back in the day when he didn’t even know what a kiss was.
He had been to seven bars so far. Asking for Bert, the white drac with dirty black hair, maybe some color in it, chemical weak blue eyes, scrawny and banged up but more energy than a new droid. He was told to check The Loose Fuse, The Neon Plug, Backstage Battery, and several other bullshit places with bullshit names. Finally he found the guy, throwing back bright yellow shots and arguing with the bartender.
Weapon pulled off his hooded coat and laid it on the stool beside Bert, his jet black hair fuller and messier than ever. Wearing his favorite black suit and red tie he took a seat and rolled up his sleeves, he pulled his infamous bag of multicolored pills from a pocket and picked out some red ones for himself. He lifted the mask and popped them in his mouth, taking one of Bert’s drinks to wash ‘em down.
