Chapter One
Update:
Achievement City.
Once, small, cosy town with a couple of houses and a beautiful beach view. Now? It's in ruins.
The City is ruled in the centre by what they call the Platinum District, known by the locals as the Plats. This area is filled with skyscrapers, big business buildings, and parks built purely to show off. Many people live there, but they will mostly only associate with people from the Plats.
Around the edges of the Plats lies the Golden District. In our world, this would be where the middle class, and lower middle class people worked and lived. Smoky. Gloomy. Grey. Unfriendly. Cold.
Unpleasant.
But far worse, is the last district, and the largest; The Copper District. You see, if the whole city was to be seen as a large target board, the Platinum District would be minute, about 10% of the map and about the size of your smallest finger nail if Achievement City was the size of your palm. The Golden District would be barely any bigger, a thin strip around the centre, about 15% of the city. And then of course, the entire rest of the city is dominated by the Cops, ironically named because of who they had the most run ins with.
This area, was 75%.
He sat in a dark room on the second floor of a dim apartment, the only light source in view shining almost painfully bright from the small, old TV in the corner. Four men crowded around it, shouting, biting their lips and mashing buttons on a tiny controller. Behind them, about a metre back, was another twenty men women and children, watching intently.
He stood next to the TV set, watching the cars of GTA 12.2 fly across the screen, feeling a shiver of anticipation run through him as they neared the finish line.
In his tight grip was a microphone, hooked up to some kind of shoddy amp and creating sound waves on a computer.
"The end is nigh! In first place, guaranteed a victory at the pace he's going, DragonBallN!" he cried out, and bit on his finger. What first place couldn't see, was that right behind him was another racer, with a rocket loaded in his power-ups.
"But..OH!" The room rose to it's feet, shouting and screaming and hugging each other and throwing controllers in the air.
"MLPMICHAEL HAS PULLED IT OUT THE BAG, MICHAEL JONES AT THE VERY LAST SECOND, AIMS A ROCKET ON THE SPOT TO HIS LEFT, CAUSING HIM TO SWERVE AND FOR HIM TO TAKE FIRST PLACE, OH MY GOODNESS, OH MY GOD." he shouted, and ran over to the victor.
"How the fuck are you doing Michael Jones?"
"Dude, I'm awesome." he laughed into the mic.
"Of course you are, congratulations on a fantastic victory." he responded. "That's all for me today, and I'll be back again tomorrow morning." he added, and switched the mic off.
He smiled to himself as he started to pack up his equipment and take his leave. A quick look at the computer told him that he had got too caught up in Jones's victory, as the audio had spiked near the end, and would definitely be too fuzzy to hear for a couple of seconds in the track.
"Where you going?"
He looked up, but had to readjust his viewpoint. In front of him stood a small little girl with blonde hair and a patched skirt. He remembered her. The adopted kid. Found on the road and never quite accepted. Although from first glance, she fit in pretty well with the Coppers. She looked kinda rough.
He smiled politely at her and kneeled down to her height as she continued to talk.
"We're having a party now. Why you gonna leave when it finally gets fun?" she asked, and tilted her head to one side. He chuckled, and got down on his knees. This wasn't a quick conversation anymore.
"What kid, you don't like video games or sump'n?" he asked good-humouredly.
The girl shrugged. "Nah. There's no point to it."
He looked genuinely confused. "The point is it's fun."
"Yeah but 'part from the stupid guys who bet on it and lose," she emphasised, "there's no point. You could be out doing anything else." she explained. The man frowned.
"Well like what?" he said, now befuddled that this girl seemed be showing off a mind like an oldie born in a different time.
"Like gettin' some fuckin money?" she answered, and pulled one side of her lip up to show her teeth, all with gaps in the middle like a proper roughie. The way she looked at him made him feel like a child, her jeering expression almost as if to say,
'Duh.'
"Alright kid well I gotta go." he said, kinda weirded out by her way of thinking. If this was what the girl thought was normal, then what the hell was her adopted family like?
"Wait, man!" she shouted and pulled on his ripped blazer as he got up. He turned and raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you the dude on the radio?"
Now this made the man smile. He tugged at his collar and nodded down to her. She broke into a gap-toothed smile.
"I like you, Ray." she gave him a nod of approval, before running back into the throng of partying Coppers.
He walked away beaming. Proud at being recognised but..confused. The world revolved around video games..how could she not..?
Ray cleared his head and walked out of the apartment, onto the grimy streets. He pushed himself through dirty, honking cars on the road in a mazy pattern through the neighbourhood, since frankly, the roads with cars were safer than the pavements..with Coppers.
He ended up in a bit of the district with flickering lights on the road. Kind of a luxury in these parts. Opening a half broken glass door with no lock, he climbed up brown carpeted stairs, walking past different rooms. He had always thought it was quite fun to walk through the apartment building, and hear snippets of everyone's lives.
A baby crying and a frustrated father on the first floor.
A man and woman shouting over each other in a heated argument. The woman actually appeared, dark hair blowing out from behind her and cheap make up plastered on her face. She took one look at Ray's shocked and admittedly awkward face, growled, and slammed the door behind her as she made for the stairs.
A dog on floor three.
Some very adult sounds coming out of one room on floor four, which Ray hurried past.
And silence on floor six.
He stopped in front of his apartment, got out his loud keys for the many locks that he had on the door, and started to make the long journey that was the 'unlocking of Brownman's door'.
The paint-peeling door of number 34 swung open to reveal the bare Copper District apartment. Ray dumped his stuff on the carpet and let out a sigh of relief. It was good to be home. Even if home really was a kind of dump. But he felt comforted most by sense of recognition for him. Not as if he wanted fame, that kind of lifestyle wasn't for him. But Brownman Ray's Radio was well known around the Cops and it kept him safe. What kind of dick head would steal from the local news guy?
No one he knew anyway, and Ray knew a lot of people.
He grabbed a big mug and stirred some coffee to try and keep him awake through the long night of editing he had ahead of him. He had gotten home at 11:33, and the early morning show was at 5:00 am. He was just taking a tentative sip of the caffeinated brown shit, thinking of hiring a trustworthy employee, when he heard a knock on the door.
"Argh!" he yelled, spilling the coffee on his neck. "Shit that burns." he murmured, mopping it up with a towel.
The knock sounded again.
Impatient bastard.
Ray took big steps towards the door with a fixed frown on his forehead and ducked beneath his head height. If it was someone there to take his shit they'd have a gun ready, and crouching would definitely catch them off guard.
"Who is i-" he swung open the door with the element of surprise and looked up to see a startled Barbara D.
They both stood, Ray on his knees and her looking down apon him for a few heartbeats, before he stood up, smoothed down his tie, and Barb burst into laughter.
"What the fuck was that?" she cried out, wiping fake tears from her eyes in her amusement.
"Safety precautions, where the fuck do you think you live, the Plats?" he growled, and opened the door for her to come inside.
"You looked like an angry hobbit!" she chuckled, stepping further into Ray's apartment, and inviting herself to the undrunk cup of coffee left on the sink. Ray rolled his eyes behind her.
"What're you doing here Barb? I have a lot of editing to do." he said impatiently.
"Oh sure, sure, sorry Mr Brownman." she waved her arms about comically, and Ray set his jaw. Barbara D and him got a long usually, but he was tired and she had recently won a bet against him, which made him look stupid on the show.
"Look, I just wanted to come in and ask if you'd had any more thoughts on...y'know, that thing I asked about a while ag-"
"No means no man." Ray said firmly. "An' watcha speaking so weird for? There's no one here." he added frustratedly.
Barb looked around anxiously and shook her head, placing her fingers on the bridge of her nose. When she looked up again, Ray realised how tired and old she looked. Recruiting people for that little group of hers must be hard work if it was also meant to be a secret.
"We could seriously use you dude." she asked. Her words were persistent but her tone made him think that she had given up long ago. Like she was pressing because of someone else's request and not her own.
"No, you couldn't. I have a radio station to run and for god's sake I'm about as sporty as an obese grandma. Why're you still trying?" he said gently, trying to hit her weak spot. He knew she didn't wanna be here, and neither did he. But she had clearly picked up on his intentions and gave him a sharp look.
"Don't pretend like I don't know, Ray." she said in a hushed voice, leaning forward. A flash of panic ran through him and he took an alarmed step backwards.
"No." he said quietly, then cleared his voice and spoke again. "N,o I-" he paused and forced himself to calm down.
"No man, no. I don't do that stuff anymore and I...I wouldn't remember how to anyway." he said, and slapped on a good-natured smile.
There was silence between them as Barbara took him in, and he studied her with equal intensity. Her blonde hair was tied up tightly in a bun, hidden slightly behind a large burgundy hoodie. She did look tired. But if he kept at it; saying no until she gave up, maybe this whole little revolution thing would just sputter and die.
A car alarm sounded in the distance, and their connection snapped.
She shrugged.
"Whatever dude. If you don't get involved now you will later." she picked up her hood, which had fallen down in the process of staring, and placed it back on her bun. Barbara D turned around, slammed the door, and didn't say a word otherwise.
Giving up on his stupid editing, Ray shook himself and laughed to the air. It felt wrong as soon as he did it.
It was cold and gloomy now, and he felt like all of the wasted carbon had almost frozen and disappeared upon exit from his lips. He dropped the fake smile, crawled under his thin sheets, and prayed that sleep would take him, before his racing mind did.