Antithesis had learned very quickly that North had multiple aspects that didn't align in the slightest with the stereotypes that West had possessed toward the island. However, one thing he didn't account for was the transportation system. Most places used roads, water, and rail to travel, and North did use all of these methods. However, they used them in different and admittedly extremely impressive ways. Roads had nothing special about them, save for the fact that they were barely used. They had been used at one point, but after West had ceased giving North oil to power vehicles, they'd strengthened rail and canal travel.
He'd considered Tyrant's jetski both impressive and unique. However, only the former of those adjectives was correct. Jetskis were ubiquitous around North, particularly among traders and those who lived on the islands surrounding the area. Tyrant's jetski had been modified to possess various attachments that could assist in speed, durability, and even combat ability of the ski. What those attachments were specifically, however, Tyrant did not say. He did say, though, that jet skis, boats, and even modified surfboards allowed denizens of North access to the various channels that slithered about the island like veins.
As his ski had sustained a bit of damage from the past few months, Tyrant had sent it off to a shop to get it spruced up. That left the rails for their travel. Much like the other areas of Dyamondix, rail travel either stretched above- or underground. However, the aboveground side of things didn't host trains. Instead, they hosted streetcars that ran on rails attached to the rarely-used streets. For the most part they were used for transport of those who couldn't afford or acquire a jetski or other method of transportation to use for themselves.
The underground system, however, was a more seedy affair.
"Tunnel people?" Antithesis asked.
Tyrant nodded. "They're like the cockroaches of North. Most know 'em as Blinders or Crawlers. I prefer the latter. Basically, they got driven underground for a variety of reasons, mostly because of threats from above. They started off as small camps, but gradually they grew into colonies of likeminded people. Now they have a network of these colonies that operate like a separate district, complete with their own trade, leadership, and even language."
"And that relates how to the rail travel?"
"Not sure if you're aware, but this island's fuckin' massive. Naturally the underground would match. I said there were multiple colonies; well, if they're gonna trade with one another, they've gotta have some kind of travel, right? Couple of 'em managed to rebuild the railway down under, and now they operate it for themselves."
"And they'll help us?"
He shrugged, kicking a stray rock to the side. "Hard to say. Some days are better than others, but for the most part they're pretty cooperative. Long as you give 'em incentive, that is."
"And that is?"
"My presence."
"No, for real."
"This is for real! My ties run deep, baby, far past the surface. Ulmo and I at one point sunk low to keep safe from the Roundsmen. Ah, that was in the olden days of my aesthetic. I was a fetus then. Anyway, we exchanged some supplies and workers for temporary shelter. Luckily we weren't down there too long; would've been converted otherwise, and ooh, that wouldn't have been pretty."
"You act as if you are now."
"Fuck you, I'm beautiful." He stepped in front of Antithesis and took his face in his hands. He pressed a gentle kiss to Antithesis's lips, then smirked up at him. "You're supposed to count your blessings, love, not regret them." He patted Antithesis's cheek twice before continuing to lead him down the street.
They'd been walking for the past fourteen minutes, Tyrant at the front while Antithesis hung back. Once the fifteenth minute hit, they stopped. The duo stood at the top of some stone steps that went downward into a tunnel before being swallowed into darkness.
"Here's where we enter," Tyrant announced. "This route in particular leads to a railcar that should take us to Scrapyards. We'll be getting some shit from there."
Ah, so that's what he'd meant by shopping.
Tyrant nodded toward the tunnel, and the duo traveled down into the darkness. Only a few minutes passed before the darkness consumed them entirely, leaving them completely unable to see.
A little light flickered on below them. It wasn't excessively bright, but it provided enough illumination to keep them from wandering blindly. Antithesis narrowed his eyes at it.
"Is that on your dick?"
"Yup," Tyrant affirmed. "Not very bright, as per Crawler policy, but it's very useful."
"And it's on your dick because…?"
"Where else can I place it so it bounces when I thrust at inappropriate times?"
Antithesis rolled his eyes. "All right. Fair enough."
Though it was dim, Antithesis saw Tyrant smirk at him.
As they continued on, Antithesis noticed more and more signs of the underground denizens. Words and images streaked the walls, more of the former than latter. Though they were words he understood, the connotations in which they were used made no logical sense. Red wheel under clear paper; dark matter over light air; goggle lamp loves straw plunge—and many others. That must have been the "language" that Tyrant had spoken of. The drawings were abstract, but they somewhat resembled weapons and modes of transportation. Trains, knives, wheels, maces—at least, that's what they looked like.
Something scurried in front of them. Tyrant placed his hand in front of Antithesis's chest.
"Hold up," he whispered. "Gotta make our presence known before shit goes primal." In a louder voice, Tyrant shouted, "Bullet rail in demand! Vroom from set platform to elevation metal! Flicker bulbs!"
A little more scurrying, as well as a grumble off to the left. Moments later, the entire space was illuminated by dull yellow lights. The space was split into three: two platforms and one line of rails. The concrete platforms stood a bit more elevated than the rails, on which a small car sat. Like rats people walked and crouched about the area. Their eyes were either bulbous or covered by cloth, though they didn't seem anywhere near affected by the latter. They wore scraps of clothing, characterized by rips, holes, and burns of all sizes. Their fingers were long and their nails curved, the skin completely wrinkled. Tyrant and Antithesis stood on the left platform, closest to the parked car, while the Crawlers stood either on the right one or the rails.
One of them shambled its way forward, eyes covered but movement not hesitant in the slightest. "Bullet rail to elevation metal?" Its voice was definitely male, but it was so gargled and scratchy that it didn't seem human at all.
"Affirm."
It outstretched its misshapen hand. "Offer?"
"Necessity lacking. Titled Tyrant. Former Royal."
The Crawler nodded once, then moved back toward the car. It spoke to another one, and when they finished, the second one motioned the duo forward.
The car looked far past dilapidated, but Tyrant assured Antithesis that it was one of the best that the Crawlers had. Its exterior was completely rusted, but the wheels looked brand new. Moss hung from the roof, and scratches marked the glass of the sliding door. Both stepped inside, and the Crawler closed the door and latched it shut. Inside was a single bulb and two sides of benches. Antithesis seated himself first, and as one would expect, Tyrant nestled right next to him in a lovey gesture. Antithesis glanced at him flatly.
"Must you?"
He nodded. "It's kind of cold in here, and you produce enough warmth to warm my balls."
"Lovely. Mind explaining some shit to me?"
"Depends on what you want."
"All right. What are Roundsmen?"
"Ah, those. Slang term, but basically they're the police of this island. They take those who are the worst of the worst and hunt them down. Once they capture them, they force them to participate in the Turnir Rounds. Kinda like slavers."
"You were running from them?"
"At one point, yeah. But, ah, let's not get into that now. What else?"
"What'd you tell the Crawlers?"
"Ah, that spiel? Basically, I told them to get the car—this one—and take it from here to Scrapyards. And to turn the lights on. For the later part, he asked for payment, and I said that I'm exempt from it because of past relations that I told you about before."
"And Royal?"
The car lurched forward, then gradually picked up speed until it traveled at a consistent pace. Tyrant sighed and kissed Antithesis's cheek.
"We'll be there in about fifteen minutes. Until then, I'll have you keep me warm. It's kinda cold down here."
Antithesis rolled his eyes. "Then wear more clothes. Those should keep you plenty warm."
"Mmm, but I can't cuddle my clothes."
"You could if you tried."
"But they won't cuddle me back…" He whined like a little boy who wanted his mother to buy him a toy. At first, Antithesis tried to push Tyrant off, but each time he did, the bastard simply scooted back and loved him up more. After three of these actions, Antithesis stopped and just sat there.
"I hate you," he hissed.
"I know, baby. I hate you too."
"You don't act like it."
"Cuz I'm courteous. I could've kicked you out of my place weeks ago, but I just couldn't seem to let you go." He altered his position, now laying across Antithesis's lap and looking up at him. "You're just so attractive and dominant. You give me a challenge that I enjoy."
Again he rolled his eyes.
"We need to redye your hair, though. It's fading."
"What color?"
He shrugged. "Dunno. Probably just back to your original color. We could change the style, though. Give you a side shave, maybe. Just a little something edgy."
"Maybe." Seeing himself with four different hair colors was a tad odd, and he wasn't that fond of the length, either. Perhaps shaving the side of his head would be somewhat beneficial—it wouldn't get in his way.
"Am I crushing your junk?"
"Nah."
He sat up on Antithesis's lap and wrapped his arms around his neck. "How 'bout now?" he murmured.
"You wanna fuck?" Antithesis asked.
He shrugged. "Dunno for sure. I just like teasin' you." He scooted about a bit on Antithesis's lap. "Seems you like it, too."
"That's not my dick."
"Then what is it?"
"Move off and I'll show you."
"But I'm comfy…!"
Antithesis moved Tyrant off of his lap and pulled down the waistband of his pants. Strapped to his thigh was a small black sheathe, from which he pulled a small black handle. He pushed a button near the top, and instantly two blades about a foot long each popped out. Tyrant blinked.
"The fuck'd you find that?"
"I explore when you leave me alone."
"And I told you that you could use it when?"
"I thought it was implied, since I found it in my room."
"I put a weapon in there? I thought it was just the dildos."
"No, you had this in the wall. There's a little hole beside one of the windows, and I found it in there."
Tyrant paused for a moment, then nodded to himself. "Oh, right. Forgot I put that in there. Well, good for you, having a piece on you in case shit gets violent. Proud of you."
About ten minutes later, their car lurched to a halt, and the door opened. A female Crawler with stringy brown hair and wrinkled skin stood on the tracks.
"Royal and fiend?"
"Tyrant current," Tyrant replied. "Although affirm."
She stepped aside, allowing the duo to exit the car. Tyrant led the way through the dim station. Gradually sunlight trickled in, and only a few moments later, they reached steps similar to the ones they'd used to enter the tunnels.
The outside looked far different than the area they'd previously been in. Rather than bright colors and eccentricity, the area was grey and dilapidated. Few roamed the streets, but those who did were clad in rags or rough-looking clothes. Tyrant and Antithesis stood out more than a tiger in a field of kittens.
"This is Scrapyards?" Antithesis asked.
"Mmm-hmm. Part of it, anyway. Scrapyards is kinda small, due to its role being pretty simple. A lot of the buildings look like shit, but most of them actually have little pawn shop-type operations. Lowkey drugs, too."
"Ah. So what're we shopping for?"
"Parts. Weapons. I dunno. Anything that looks valuable."
Tyrant nodded forward, and they walked down the cracked street together. As they approached a fenced area, Tyrant pulled Antithesis to the side. The fence was made of chain link, wood, metal, and various other materials. Atop the posts, barbed wire looped about for extra security. Tyrant looked to the left, then right, then left once again before turning back to the fence. He grabbed a piece of russet wood and pulled it off the nails with a grunt. Revealed now was a hole in the chain link, which made up the base of the fence.
"Come on."
Tyrant climbed through the hole, and Antithesis followed suit. Carefully Tyrant replaced the wood, then stood and gestured forward.
"This is Scrapyards."
Piles upon piles of assorted garbage dotted the fenced yard, which was by no means tiny. It stretched for at least half a mile, though Tyrant said that it actually stretched for three miles in all directions. He explained that this started off as a dumping grounds for Dyamondix's garbage, but gradually it had transformed into a "commerce spot with personality."
They searched through the massive piles for what felt like hours, pulling out anything somewhat artsy. Tyrant explained that those who lived in Aethan had an affinity for art of any kind, particularly things that seemed unusual or even rare. Sculptures, most broken, and paintings, some with tears, sat in a pile between them. They took only the finer-looking pieces, ones that were almost or completely intact. Antithesis found an interesting-looking one that depicted two men, one with grey hair and a tall frame and the other smaller with brown hair and innocent features. The title was caked in dirt, but he managed to make out the words "Usagi" and "Misak" and "Junj" and "Romantica." When he asked Tyrant about it, he told him that it was worthless and to torch it. As he lacked flame, Antithesis just tossed it aside.
When about three hours had passed, Tyrant led Antithesis—who was stuck carrying the majority of everything—to a ramshackle hut made of what looked like scraps of a boxcar. He didn't enter, instead having Antithesis dump everything through a slot and saying, "Ship 'em to Medix's palace." Some grumbles answered him, but nevertheless everything was taken. They then exited the landfill through the same hole through which they'd entered.
"You sell them, then?" Antithesis asked.
"Not directly. I mostly send 'em to Ulmo. He has a heavy hand in the commerce section of North, so he turns those pieces of shit into profit."
"Why don't you sell them yourself?"
"It'd look suspicious if I was sellin' shit to the people in my district. They'd wonder where the money would go. Then speculations start, and from speculations come rebellions, and from rebellions come Tyrant getting his head cut off and stabbed on a pike. Not the way I wanna go. Speaking of, we need to leave."
"Gonna see that show you were talking about?"
"Nah, changed my mind. I'm, ah...have a little obligation I forgot about. Involves some travel. You'll be stranded on the island for a little."
He shrugged. "Okay." There didn't seem like there'd be much for him to do outside of the island, anyway. He didn't know nearly enough about North to go out on his own, either.
"Mmm, one more thing," Tyrant said.
"What do you want?"
He drifted toward Antithesis, his eyes cast downward. "Well, I'll be gone from the island for about two, maybe three days. I'll miss you a lot, baby. So…" He traced his fingers over Antithesis's crotch, moving even closer and looking up at him. "Can I get a...going-away present when we get back?"
Antithesis stared down at him flatly. Shit, he was more desperate than a starving stripper. He sighed. "Fine."
Tyrant grinned and threw his arms around Antithesis. "Thanks, babe!"
Antithesis rolled his eyes and shoved him away. "Calm down. You're not a teenage girl."
"And your balls aren't shriveled. Why so sour all the time? Is it cuz of the guy that got you thrown in jail?"
"It's more than that," he mumbled. "You make me want to shoot myself in the face repeatedly."
"Ooh, look whose balls grew in nice and plump!" His expression hardened, more so sinisterly than hatefully, and he grabbed Antithesis's shirt collar to pull him close. "Baby, I can cast your supple ass out into the streets with nothing more than a bed sheet and a condom if I truly wanted. I coulda let that motherfucker rip out your organs and destroy your innards if I truly wanted. But nah. I'm keeping you with me because I feel some severe aches in my loins when I see that body workin' out in my living room. You intrigue me, Antithesis, far more than anyone else ever has. You're under the wing and in the bed of one of the most powerful people on this island. Compromise that, you compromise your life. Am I understood?"
Antithesis still glared down at him, but he was shaken a bit by his words. He wasn't going to stay with Tyrant forever—no part of him desired that. However, he did need to stay long enough to gain some independence.
"Yeah, I get it." He threw his arm around Tyrant's waist and pinned him against his body. "When we get home, I'm gonna destroy your innards. Am I understood?"
Tyrant bit his lower lip through a smirk. "Mmm, just take me now if you're gonna be that tempting."
"Nah, I'll wait. You said you liked being teased, didn't you?"
Tyrant sighed with a small smile. "I knew you were special."
