Post by Hunter on Nov 9, 2023 3:39:22 GMT -5
Hunter adjusts the stick of cigarette in his mouth to the other side of his lips as he makes his way back to Veyyard on foot. Complications happened and he could not use his motorcycle at the moment. He hitched some rides with strangers to reach where he is now, but nobody in their right mind would go to the worst country of the domain. Thus here he is, walking through the abandoned mines of Iron-Maw and heading straight to the black walls that overshadows the city that is Arthera.
As he heads past the bastioned security, the shift in atmosphere is quite apparent -- especially as he had spent the morning in Gradia, one of the wealthiest city of the domain. Everything was just... worse here. The streets and buildings were dirtier and more decrepit. The same went for the people.
Hunter sighed. In a way, he loved Arthera. It was his home, where he grew up. He knew it like the scars on his own body. He knew the web of its streets like he knew his own heart. He also hated it. He doubted he was alone in such a sentiment.
Anyone born in Arthera was of Arthera.
People here did not describe themselves as from Veyyard -- they describe themselves as from Arthera. It was unique in that regard. It was a community. A cutthroat, evil, backstabbing, brutal, disease-ridden, and sometimes outright sadistic community, but they all shared a common identity.
At the same time, however, all of them had plans and schemes -- hopes and dreams -- that would allow them to escape this accursed city and move on to better things in better places. Most of those dreams were futile. Anyone could get up and walk out of Arthera physically, but they would never have the chance to truly leave. Poverty would draw them back in. The leash around their neck. A noose for too many. Hunter was one of them.
He had the money once. It took 18 years. He thought he could buy a nice shirt, get a good hat, rent a small apartment, and live a modest but perfectly respectful life in Sougen or Kumo for a few months with the money he has. He attempted to, at least. It didn't seem to work out for him.
Without knowledge of his surroundings, detached from his home territory, Hunter felt he wasn't a part of anything. A man playing a role, desperately trying to fit in with a strange new habitat. He thought he could learn and thrive out there. He did not. 'A fish could not live out of water. Could a rat live among people?' Hunter snorted. That was a poor example. He's from Arthera, born and bred -- he should know. Rats lived among people all the time.
It was a long walk and he finally reaches the heart of the city of thieves.
The density of the smog of the city thickens as the evening rolls in. The clouds seem to glow with the full moon, and Hunter could even see the silhouette of the infamous prisons on top of the stoned hill miles away. An unusual sight, given the generally abysmal air quality of the city.
His heart felt heavy all of the sudden. Is he feeling sorry for himself? Is he lamenting of how life dealt him a bad hand? Hunter very rarely expresses his true feelings to people, preferring to be indirect with his words. Now though, there's a certain heaviness in his stomach. Of uncertainty and worry, perhaps not for himself, he had long past accepted the fact that he belongs in this hellhole. Then what is he worrying for?
He had met some genuinely good and impressionable young people here in Veyyard, like that Kyori girl he was tasked to train. And that strange white-haired man he plays pool with sometimes. Zero too, and Prince, of course. Not all of them can make it out of Veyyard successfully. Prince managed to after some time, and Zero broke through as well. Kyori got out early, but got tied back here again. Hunter looks down at his boots, staring at his reflection against the muddy puddle of water at his feet. Even if people got out, trauma lingers, and they would eventually find themselves here again. This city poisons people.
Other than trauma, poverty has a way of ingraining people to put their interest above others. Kindness, as beautiful as it sounds, is a limited and expensive commodity that they can't afford to just give away, else the price would be too much to bear. They're from Arthera. They're not like Grace, not like Mitsuko. They've been dealt a terrible hand just by being born here. They're like him.
'No. They're not like me. They're not me, so they'll be fine.' He soothes his own heart. These kids are stronger than him. They may share the same community, they may all have leashes around their necks, they may have unimaginable uncountable horror being inflicted upon them as they grow in this shithole, but they only got dealt one hand and they have to make the best of it.
Like professional poker players -- they often win without having the best hand. The secret is that the sum of the winners is greater than the losers. He's the loser, so they must win.
Hunter looks up, having found the answers to soothe his heart. It scares him of how much he cares deep inside, exhausting almost. With a huff, he fixes his large cowboy hat, spits out his cigarette and squeezes it flat under his heel. Enough feelings, it's time to work.
Fortunately, all he needs to do before he collapses for the day is to check on Kyori. They were in contact while he was in Gradia this morning, in a three-way communication with their courier. Hunter had to manually check some items from Gradia, to be transported through a trusted courier, who transfers the items to Kyori here in Arthera.
She had informed him all went well, but he had to physically check just in case. If she fucks up, it's his head on the chopping board. This job isn't just any normal bounty hunting job, it's a direct request from Faun himself. He can't afford to mess this up.
[Tag Kyori, NPC: Faun]
