When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city, to see a marching band. He said, "son when you grow up, will you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?" He said, "Will you defeat them, your demons, and all the non-believers, the plans that they have made? Because one day, I'll leave you, a phantom, to lead you in the summer, to join the Black Parade."
Year: 2019. Location: Unknown desert of California.
Name: Gerard Arthur Way, aka Party Poison.
In the vast, scorching deserts of California, Poison stood tall as a leader of the Killjoys, and a "Child of the Gun". He often wore a tight, dark blue jacket, skin-tight jeans, and a pair of dirty black gloves, although out in the desert, a yellow mask would cover the upper region of his face, making only his hazel eyes and unsmiling mouth visible. Sometimes a large helmet would be preferred instead, or, in the case of cruising down the never-ending highway at 100 miles per hour, stylish sunglasses that hid his eyes. A yellow gun would always be close by, and a cigarette usually dangled from his mouth. His blazing red hair made him easily identifiable among the rest of the Killjoys, though it was his toughness and bravery that made him a leader in this unforgiving place. However, though he was deemed a mighty hero (for the Killjoys, at least), he would rather consider himself to simply be some cool, fabulous motherfucker in a not-so-cool-and-fabulous desert. Perhaps all this "hero" tale was a bit ironic, since when he was still some dumbass teenager that scared the shit out of everyone, he had safely assumed that when he grows up, he wanted to be nothing at all. (Back in high school, he couldn't swim, he couldn't dance, and he didn't know karate, which was why he thought he would never make it, thus giving up his hopes so early on.)
Before his and many others' exile into this shithole, there were better times; times when the world was not brainwashed by the Better Living Industries, times when Australia still existed on Earth, when the BL/ind didn't take control of almost every average person's life... Times when a small amount of people didn't have to find refuge in this lonely, hostile desert located somewhere in California, and risk their lives trying hide from constant Draculoid attacks.
Happier times. But as the BL/ind rose, there became nothing but war and turmoil, and after that, complete control from the central Battery City.
Run, run, bunny, run! Quickly flee from the harsh reality, because... well, now the happy times are over. Better Living Industries, aka BL/ind, a mega-corporation located in Battery City, is taking over innocent people's lives and changing them into emotionless robots by feeding them drugs that negate their emotions. A few years earlier, war had broken out between them and some "Dead Pegasus" located in Australia, and the war ended in devastation as the Better Living Industries stripped away all the resources on the East Coast, and ultimately defeated destroyed the Australian organization. Due to the destruction the BL/ind created, Poison, along with some others, resorted to the desert, one day hoping to fight back and save this messed-up world.
Barely managing to get by, the few people formed a group called the "Killjoys". Most of them rebelled against BL/ind with open gun-fights, while others were responsible for keeping on the lookout, and stealing food and supplies from BL/ind. (BL/ind vending machines, all randomly scattered throughout the desert, are apparently very easy to hack.) Of course, a few select Killjoys did all jobs. Yes, the food tasted foul and appalling, but hey, it's better than nothin'. The group usually roamed when the sunlight died, since everyone had to hide their bodies from the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W, the unit of BL/ind responsible for tracking taking down the Killjoys.
In these danger days, they were guided by Dr. Death Defying, a pirate radio DJ. Bearded and often with sunglasses and a bandanna on, his sidekick is the rollerblading Pony Boy. In the ranks, the most renowned among the small group of elite Killjoys are the four best friends, Party Poison, Fun Ghoul, Kobra Kid (who also happens to be Poison's younger brother), and Jet Star. They were rock-'n-rollers, crash queens and motor babies, and often drove their dusty and worn car at dangerously high speeds on the highway, cranking up the music real loud. The four of 'em used to be a group of simple losers from New Jersey, but fuck it, they're now the famous (in a negative way to some, in a positive way to others) and fabulous "Children of the Gun". They don't have heroes, cause all their heroes are dead. Now, they are the kids from yesterday.
The foursome's known to be expert exterminators of Draculoids (the loyal minions of BL/ind), and famed criminals of the mega-corporation. Well, they didn't care; 's long as they're alive, nothing's gonna stop them from being rebels. After all, they've already sworn to rather go to hell than be in BL/ind's "purgatory". Being accomplished at killing them Dracs, they were frequently on missions, with their current one being to get back The Girl, who has been captured by BL/ind.
Poison had a lover named Helena, and out here in the desert, if you didn't know that, you ain't a Killjoy. Though the somewhat poker-faced and sun-tanned man never really smiled much (unlike Jet Star and Fun Ghoul) (hey, c'mon, Kobra Kid doesn't even smile at all), Helena was somehow charmed by him. And, well… only to the surprise of a few, Gerard loved her back. She didn't have the hourglass, curved body shape that most females strive for, but Gerard preferred her this way, declaring her to be perfect to him.
Helena had no last name; she was simply Helena, and she intends it to stay that way, which is why she doesn't have a Killjoy nickname either. Nobody knows how old she is (although Dr. Death speculated her to be in her early 20's), and nobody knows her past. In fact, even Helena has no idea of how she came to be, as all she could remember about her prior to joining the Killjoys were blurry images of needles, and then someone in a white mask hitting her in the head with a heavy object. After that, it was all dark, until she suddenly woke up one day with a bunch of strangers at her side. The 'strangers' turned out to be the Killjoys.
As it turned out, Helena became loyal companion to the group, and even helped save the Children of the Gun's skins at least a couple of times. However, as her skill with laser guns are only slightly better than average, after a while she chose to stay behind instead of going on more missions. Her curly black hair was always down, and red eyeshadow accompanied her shining green eyes. She was indeed beautiful, especially when she was dressed in the red-and-black skirt that she wore when she first unexpectedly appeared at their hideout; plus, her graceful, passionate ballet dancing is just… divine. Perhaps that's why Poison was quite amused when she first asked him out.
Helena didn't go outside much (her special duties at the Killjoy hideout didn't require her to), which explains why she's paler than most. She considered herself lucky as she was not too fond of the sun, probably because it mercilessly blazed down onto the ground, baking the surroundings and sometimes even creating flames. To her, the sands were unfit for survival.
Hey, at least the Killjoys are doing rather well for such a desolate place.
Gerard was getting ready to leave with his three pals in their dirty, weathered car, when he heard a "Hey, Poison, wait!" shouted at him. Helena dashed up to Gerard and touched his hot, sweaty face, and soon Gerard had embraced Helena's warm body in his arms as the two fell into a deep kiss. Kobra Kid and Jet Star, who were waiting in the back of the car, hurriedly started an awkward conversation, while Fun Ghoul, who was giving the battered car a final checkup, smirked mischievously. After a few moments, Gerard let go and winked at Helena, then hugged her for a few more seconds before rushing for the car.
"Gotta go, my angel. I've a mission to bring The Girl back." he told her with a quick smile as he opened the door and slipped inside to the driver's seat. Fun Ghoul grinned at her with that same childlike smile from earlier, before slumping into a scratched-up car seat.
"Where are you guys going?"
"Well, they don't like who you are, and you won't like where we'll go." Came the obscure reply. Sighing, Helena waved goodbye at them as Poison started the car and cranked up the thunderous, fast-paced rock music.
Gonna take off all my skin!
Tear apart all of my insides,
When they rifle in;
Mom and Dad think you'll be saved…
They never had the time,
They gonna medicate your lives!
You were always born a crime,
We salute you in your grave!
The car turned in a perfect 180 and created a small sandstorm, then Poison hit the gas, thrust his left hand out the window in a "see ya" gesture, and drove away at top speed. Time to kill 'em all!
Butterflies of dread fluttered inside Helena's stomach; immediately she assured herself that the four are virtually immortal in battle. But…
Oh, how wrong was she to think, that immortality meant never dying.
