In every major city on Earth, there is an underside. Like a rock, lifted from the ground and checked underneath, it is teeming with life. The insects and crawlers of every civilization eventually find their way to the Undercity.
Composed of haphazard living tenements and makeshift lean-to shops, seedy bars, clubs for those who can afford the drink, and chem dealers of all kinds, the Undercity is a place that few enter of their own will. Finding your way in to the Dark is as easy as falling, but finding your way out… well that is something else entirely.
Amidst the maze of walkways and shanties, dealers and destitute, closer to the elevators than most of the Dark, lies a small lounge, frequented enough by the “higher society” of the Dark to stay in business. Usually a meeting ground for chem-deals, prostitution, and other discreet “services” desired by high-ranking officials in their shiny towers, today it is mostly empty.
An old pimp and a young, strangely attired girl with brightly colored hair play a hand of cards in a corner. The old man is entranced by the tales and words the young girl is spinning, enough so, that he does not seem to notice her flip a few extra cards her way as she is shuffling the deck.
Another figure can be seen, huddling over a dispenser. The figure turns around with a cup of neon orange liquid, though his face is completely hidden behind the hood of his cloak. He walks to sit down at a table, seemingly completely fascinated by this new drink. As the hooded figure starts turning to sit down, another man walks into the lounge. He walks over to a table, just as the hooded figure reaches the same one.
“Oh. Excuse me,” says the newcomer. “…Is this your table?”
The hooded cloak looks up, surprised at the voice so near him. A tall, fit looking man stands before him. Short cut hair and beard adorn his face, clean-cut, which is an oddity in the Dark. “No. no, not particularly.” He looks around at the other few other empty, lonely tables.“Do you mind if I sit here with you?”
“Not at all.”
Both take their seats. The hooded figure examines the newcomer for a moment.
“Name’s Zosh.” he offers.
“Proteus.” answers the stranger.
“Would you like a drink?” Zosh asks, holding up his glass.
“I… am not thirsty right now. But thank you.”
Zosh shrugs and continues to drink.
Across the room Zosh and Proteus notice the old, lecherous pimp stand up and knock his chair down. He glares with contempt at the young girl sitting across from him. The eccentrically attired girl looks up innocently at him as he stalks from the room, out through the door.
Turning to scan the room, the girl notices Zosh and Proteus sitting across the way.
Gracefully starting from her seat, the girl meanders over to the two.
“Would you mind terribly if I joined you two gentleman?”
There is something enrapturing about her voice, even in this simple question. A slight change in perspective, a small fog that muddles the thoughts, and a small push to the disposition. If one were inclined to tell her no, the reason why might not be readily clear.
But the gentleman are amiable enough.
“No, by all means.” Proteus replies as he gestures to the remaining chair near the table.
“And you name is…?” asks Zosh.
“Ah, well isn’t that a personal question,” the girl teased, “and here I’ve only just met you.”
(More tomorrow) it’s not the best writing but this will help me practice :) Read it if you would like, but of course, you don’t have to.