Ah, I finally got the motivation to start working on this again; after getting over a rather nasty bout of the flu (compliments of my dad) I had a lot of time to think about stuff... so I started with this. Woot.
merchante fille—I did :P. Be intrigued again!
SladesDaughter—Yes, a PG story. I'm still me! –Other me: No, you're not! I'm me! I write nasty evil plots that make people cringe or want to read more sex and blood and gore! Me me: Umm...that's part of me... but this one's primarily based on a weird society in the future—it was about time I wrote something science fiction-like... maybe I should change the genre thingy...
kikoken—Indeed, it is; here is your update stuffed full of Joey goodness!
ShibiChicken-...again, you never cease to amaze me with your long reviews :). And Joey is the main character of this story (just because I'm obsessed with Seto does not mean that I hate Joey...) I don't think this'll become more popular than PIC or Kiseki, mainly because it doesn't have too much to do with YGO at all... but at least it's not a shoujo story... I think boys will actually be able to enjoy this one, too XD. And email me if you want to talk, ok? I never come on, but if I can and someone asks, I come on! Anyway, you seem to be interested in this more than the others, so I hope I keep your attention :).
So, onwards with the next, significantly longer, chapter! And, as a slight... forewarning (for lack of a better word), this IS an alternate universe story, so Joey is actually rather intelligent in this one. I didn't think that a stupid guy would fit the character outline I wanted, and I didn't want to write another one centered completely around Seto (although he is a major antagonist in this story). Anyway, I'm rambling. Enjoy!
Chapter 2
"Did ya hear me? Get ya sorry ass back here!" the loud blonde shook his fist at the back of a gangly smoker, who had just called him a monkey.
"If I did that, you'd probably wet your little whitie tighties; go put on some diapers and grow up!" He gave a loud guffaw and turned his back on the teen, taking a long drag on his cigarette before tossing it behind him.
Joey cursed and walked a bit after him, stopping at the slowly smoldering death stick on the ground. Spitting on it, his foot crushed it and smeared it upon the pavement, and he felt a little better. This was a typical day for him, after all. He knew all the local druggies in the town, misfits who had either run away from the "Runt Asylum" or chosen to live a life that was completely opposite of what was expected of them. Some had the perfect genes to pass, but chose to sleep with no one, knowing excitement was the only way to live and that the system was screwed over. Joey wasn't really one of them, but he was close.
He had been a sort of accident. His mother and father were both residents of the mansion full of sick and misshapen people, and had gone against the rules and made love while everyone was asleep. As an illegitimate, he wasn't allowed to be with them from the very beginning, though as he grew up under the care of the elderly, it was obvious that his parents had some traces of good genes somewhere in both their systems.
Heavily-primped girls would stare at him as he walked past, their teachings in school telling them that he was a good male to save themselves for. If one dared approach him, however, she would be blown off just as if she were a lamp post. Not one even asked his name or how he was doing, it was all about whether they'd make a good mate for him—it pissed him off.
The blonde shoved his hands in his pockets, choosing instead to walk down the street to get something to eat. Money wasn't really a big issue for him, nor was it for anyone in the city—if you had a job, you had enough to survive. A burger place caught his eye, a rare spectacle to see in an age when everyone watched what they ate out of fear of becoming obese and ostracized. It sold good food, and the only reason it still stood was because of the large amount of healthy, alternative dishes they prepared. Joey's metabolism was fast, so he could eat as much as he wanted without gaining any weight.
Walking in, he cast a wary eye over the females talking amongst themselves, as well as the males that were sure to be territorial if they caught him looking at their mates. A seat at the bar was open, and he plopped himself down on the seat, resting his chin upon his hand.
"What'll it be, sir?" A handsome, grey-haired older man calmly walked over to him, smoothly wiping down a glass with a crisp towel.
"Gimme whatever energy drink you got back there, annnnd..." He squinted at the menu taped onto the counter in front of him. "Two a those real nice burgers ya guys make; I want everythin' on 'em."
"Right away," replied the man; he turned around and typed in the order on a touch screen with dexterous fingers, then facing the blonde now lounging at his bar. "You all alone today, young man?" he inquired.
"Yeah, don't got nobody anyway," Joey muttered, grabbing the glass he was handed and dipping a finger in, swirling the ice around. "Don't want nobody, either." He tipped the glass and drank deeply, feeling the boost run down his throat, tickling it.
"Why's that?" He put the cleaned glass down and started gently wiping his hands on the towel.
"'cause our society's screwed up; the way they treat people who don' turn out right is just messed up. I don' wanna contribute ta one like that." The drink now empty, he pushed it slightly away from him on the smooth marble. "Besides, all da girls here only want me 'cause o' my genes and nothin' else."
"Sadly, that is the truth; I don't particularly care for some of our rules, but it certainly will make a world of difference once the society is perfect." He sighed. "That's the only reason why I decided to pass mine on, was for the future when all diseases would be gone and people could live with problems that we can fix without spending money on research."
"Yeah? An' what happens when we run outta room? From what I've heard, the Dome doesn't go on forever."
"I believe the government will be intelligent enough to put a mating restriction once that happens."
Joey pursed his lips, resting his chin on his palm and tapping his fingers. "What about when we run outta room for the dead guys?"
The bartender blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Young man, have you ever seen a graveyard in our habitat?"
"I haven'... but I've read about 'em from books. What, is that weird?"
"Obviously you aren't up to date on that. The government has already realized that problem and has a way to deal with it. The dead are placed outside the Dome, and decompose fast enough to leave room for the next group—"
"What?" he interrupted. "They jus' toss 'em out like garbage?"
"Well, they obviously don't throw them in the same spot that they throw the waste—"
"Tha's not what I meant!" The blonde pressed a finger to the table. "They don' bury 'em or anything? They jus' leave 'em outside the Dome to be eaten away by dem leftover toxins?" he asked incredulously.
"To bury them would be rather risky; just opening up the Dome to the outside is dangerous, everyone knows that. But they do provide funeral service for those who want it; most people these days choose cremation, anyway." He grabbed Joey's glass and refilled it. "You seem very opinionated for someone so young; did you attend a private school?"
"Naah," he shook his head. "Didn' go ta school... my parents couldn' afford it."
"I'm impressed!" the bartender exclaimed. "No tutor or anything?"
"I jus' know what I know from goin' ta the library whenever I'm not workin'."
"That's most admirable. What's your name?"
"Joey Wheelah."
"Well, Mr. Wheeler, I'm Tom Grangin; I'm very pleased to meet you. Would you mind if I asked you to come around every now and then for some more discussions? It was nice hearing a change from the norm around here," he asked humbly, holding out a hand.
Joey was slightly taken aback. "Ah-jeez, I've nevah had someone say somthin' like that ta me before... yeah, I guess so. Don' know what I'm sayin' that's so interestin', though."
"Believe me, that fact that you question what this society has been like ever since World War III is fascinating-everyone else that comes here never discusses anything of the sort." He lowered his voice somewhat, cupping a hand around his mouth. "It's all about who saw the best genes, who has the best mate, and work. It's rather boring."
"Outta curiosity, Mistah Grangin, how many times do people usually mate?"
"Oh, I've heard anywhere between once and eight times, though I'm sure there are extreme cases. I myself mated three times." He chuckled, leaning against the rack of drinks behind him. "I must say, it's rather difficult to enjoy it, considering nearly every female has been so brainwashed that they just lay back and let you do everything."
"Doesn' sound too excitin'," Joey muttered darkly, taking another sip from the filled glass.
"Yeah, I suppose the only thing you have to look forward to is finding one that looks and smells pretty. That's one thing I can't stand around here. I want more females to actually have personalities."
"Oh, there you go, Daddy, spewing politics again."
A delicate giggle reached Joey's ears, and he turned in his seat to see a slim brunette walking towards them in an apron, a large serving tray at her side. Her pretty blue eyes sparkled as she approached, placing the tray on the edge of the counter and leaning on it to smile at Joey.
"Sorry if he's bothering you; he's always doing that," she said, half-rolling her eyes playfully at her father.
"Oh-no he wasn'-" Joey started.
"Téa, don't go embarrassing me; this time I actually found someone who thinks along some of the same lines!" the bartender ranted, gesturing with his hand.
"I'm sure, Daddy," she laughed. "What's your name?"
"Joey Wheelah," he said, turning back to his drink and taking a long sip.
"Well, let me know if he starts annoying you," Téa said, winking and going in back to collect more orders.
A plate with Joey's burgers slid down the conveyor belt connecting the kitchens to the bar, and Tom placed it in front of the blonde, folding his arms. "That's my little girl, Téa; she never lets me talk like this anymore, ever since it caused trouble a few months ago with a customer."
"Seems like she thinks a little more than mos' girls I've met."
"Well, I certainly tried to open her mind a little bit. Unfortunately, she lived with her mother for most of her life, as the rules demand, but I was contacted to take care of her when a bad virus developed in my mate, and she took ill. My daughter was tested for it, but since she came off clean, she stayed with me. I believe her mother died shortly after Téa came under my care, but..." He sighed. "My daughter wouldn't think much of it even if she knew. She nearly drove me crazy the first couple of weeks, all this stuff about 'I need to find a good mate, let me work and clean around the house'... I've driven a bit of it out of her, but since she grew up with it, it's deeply rooted in her mind now."
"Has she mated yet?" Joey asked, his mouth a bit full with one of his burgers.
"Not yet; I'm afraid she has become interested in the same male as most in here have. She's 'saving' herself for him, so to speak, since females can only mate once. Sad thing is, he probably will mate with her and most of the ones in here." Shaking his head slightly, he took up a glass again to rub the towel over it.
"Who is this guy?"
"Oh, I'm sure you've heard of him at least once-well, speak of the devil, here he is now." He waved a hand delicately at the door, which had just opened up to reveal a man so breathtaking that the entire restaurant had fallen into silence.