I was just following this highway, trying to figure out a plan.
Trying not to get distracted by the sheer physics defying architecture of some of the huge ass buildings was difficult.
This city was pretty large, and I knew fucking no one.
So how do you make connections? You go places people gather.
Bars, clubs, parties, churches. Maybe not churches, something here screams that the spiritual isn't at all welcome.
I could ask for directions to someplace good.
My stomach growled.
Fuck, I hadn't eaten since I got here, and a crappy soda wasn't going to cut it.
Though that brought up the thought of what food here was going to be like. Rat meat? Poor Doggos? (AN: Who's going to tell him?)
Still, I needed to eat something and maybe get directions to a club or bar to try to get a sense of what was up with this place.
The sound of gunshots were depressingly common.
Buck a Slice. Pizza?
Hard to go too wrong with pizza. (AN: It hurt to write this.)
I was wrong.
This was not pizza.
The "pizza" was so bad, cardboard crust had a new definition. The toppings were most definitely not what the looked like. Musky flavor. Horrid aftertaste.
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I choked it down, I had to get some calories. I doubt there was any nutrition to be had here.
How the hell do people eat this without killing someone?
Oh.
Well, at least I got directions to a place called Lizzie's. The girl running the "pizza" joint said it was probably the best place for somebody from out of town to get situated.
"You'll have a preem time input." She giggled at some joke that went right over my head.
A lot of language drift and new slang to absorb. But hey, fake it till you make it.
It took a while to get to Lizzie's. I took a few wrong turns, especially in the area called the City Center.
I crossed a few bridges, getting this far, and the water looked terrible, and trash was piled up everywhere in this City.
It was making me depressed.
This was just one city, and I'm suppose to fix the world? Even with magic, that seemed unlikely.
I got there at about nightfall and park in the lot. The neon sign of a girl wielding an axe while kicking was cute.
Wait, Lizzie and an axe? Moxes?
Grim realization.
Lizzie Borden reference? Whew, maybe this wasn't the best idea after all.
Nah, I needed to man up and fucking dive in.
Wonder what the whole Moxes thing is about?
I saw a few people walking into the bar, a couple of ladies nodding at them.
Kept getting sidetracked by the sheer level of modifications people had subjected themselves to. Metal looking skin. Hair that glowed with LED lights. Limbs that looked absurdly powerful.
Some folks looked down right weaponized.
Maybe, it helped them feel safer.
Cause, I sure didn't.
"Watch the car, guys." As I walked away the Probe beeped affirmative.
As I got to the door one of the Ladies called out, "Hold up, Input."
She was short but kind of intimidating, her skin had a plastic sheen and spikes on her forearm. Yup, those were part of her.
Her pink-purple hair was done up in cute buns, went well with her facial features. Were they real though?
Imagine it would be easy to get whatever face you wanted here.
She was bouncing a bat on her should, a pink one.
She had my full attention, I barely even noticed the other woman. Though that one's hand was on her gun, a purple and green pistol.
What kind of place was this?
Her eyes flashed at me.
"Ganic, huh? Haven't seen anyone your age who wasn't a little Chipped." She cocked her head at me, trying to suss me out.
"From Out of Town." Risky move, but figured it be too obvious, to hide.
"Bennie," nodded to herself, "Well here's the deal. You do not touch the Staff. If you see someone you like, you go to the front desk and pick them from the catalogue. They'll set you up with a BD. Leave your Iron at the desk on your way in. Got that?" She gave me an obligatory glare, it said "Don't make me deal with you."
"Yes." Nodding.
"Then welcome to Lizzie's. Have fun Input." She stepped aside.
I stepped into a very new experience.