EXCOLO: GUARDIANS

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

Chapter 1: Another Beautiful Day in the Dome

It is early evening as I leave my office, sunset streaking through the Dome, the pale glow of the Gate coming from the east so that there is light from both sides. I love this time of day. The clouds are scudding fast, and I think there may be a storm tonight. I find myself regretting I do not have any particular reason to go into the Outer Districts tonight. The city under the Dome is very graceful, of course, but I like to be in the open air.

However, I have arranged to meet a friend for a drink, and so I stroll the three blocks from the university to Illyria, a bar popular with academics and the artistic crowd. As well as Guardians, of course. There is something of La Belle Epoque to the warm wood and soft lights. I absently tap the bust of Shakespeare for luck as I come in - his forehead is worn from thousands of patrons doing this, though no one knows from where the tradition originated - and I find a table. I flip through an e-newspaper on the table viewer as I wait for my drink to arrive. I minimise The Excolo Times; it is a worthy paper, well written and reputable, but I am interested in The Recorder. We are keeping an eye on some of its reporters.

Excolo: Guardians (the same evening; later)

[goddessnanshe.livejournal.com]

CHAPTER 2: HERE COMES THE RAIN AGAIN

The sky's going to fall tonight, oh yeah, I can feel it, and they'll all be coming in from the rain. I Dreamed pretty hard last night and I'm still coming down, long aching through my bones and my head light like air. Altogether a bad time. But it's raining, baby, it's raining, and I'm going to make them dance.

I slink myself into a skintight dress that's gold in daylight and glows like a star under the UV of Violet Ray. I take a dose of Freak to tide me over, because I want to be on a roll. I'm playing from midnight until dawn, and I want it to count.

Slipping into my coat, I head outside, pulling up my hood against the rain. I'm tripping ever so slightly, ever so brightly, and the raindrops seem to be edged with light. It's like a dream, and I know all about those.

I take the subway through town to Violet Ray. It used to be a warehouse. It's the best and most beautiful of all the most-definitely-illegal raves in the city, which is why it's out here right near the wall. No one decent wants to live near the shanty towns. No one decent wants to have any fun.

I grin hard and bright, and I go inside.