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Take No Prisoners
Introduction 2.
Dusty Sunset Voltage
Sunlight left the sky as the dark wooden coffin was lowered into the ground slowly. My eyes pricked with tears when the first shovel of dirt covered the old box, which one of my best friends lay in. Angel stood next to me, her golden eyes distant and emotionless. Never again would I let myself show so much weakness. Never again would I let myself fell pain...
At the age of ten I was sent to an Institution for Young Ladies in the attempt to make me appreciate the better things in life. The better things being how to be a social climber, a supporter for my already chosen husband (a lord, for no less would do for my mother), and all the rest of the certain talents I must have to become great, well mannered lady. At first I followed the orders, it was after all leading to a more wonderful life. I was timid, only befriending the school's rabbit, which later on in the week I ended up eating with my fellow classmates. But shortly after my arrival Angel arrived.
She was different from everyone else and she opened my eyes to how violent the world really was, teaching me about the wonderful technology that was guns and much more skills to protect myself in life. I grew quick, developing my own talents, and became somewhat of a professional when it came to gun-making. And after years of training for a battle that had to arise. Then, in the year 2018, we heard rumors of Better Living Industries attempting to manipulate the entire world, starting in Battery City, California, and heading to the rest of the globe. So we packed our bags and with our close friend Skippy by our side, we left for America.
After a tedious journey which took us almost three months of walking, hitchhiking and sailing we finally made it to the east side of California, but unable to get out of Nevada and into California itself. We were still young, me being the eldest at only 23, and were yet to class ourselves as official killjoys, as at the time that name was unheard of to us. We were outsiders in the world of freedom fighters, so when we did try to infiltrate California, Skippy was shot. It broke my heart watching my beautiful friend being killed by people who used to be on our side, and she was a truly wonderful person who put her everybody before herself. She was tough but the dracs we faced were tougher and sometimes you're lucky to just lose one.
As the final shovel of dirt covered Skippy's body, I let the tears flow from my eyes freely. Angel placed her hand on my shoulder gently, her face still unable to show any emotions. Skippy's death had hurt Angel more than it had me, she had known Skippy for much longer than I, and they were practically twins in personalities, looks and their outlook on life, but as we stood and mourned together Angel seemed to be completely empty.
After over an hour of constant tears, I managed to sniffle away the next on slaughter and put on a brave face.
"To Oregon?" I asked, picking mine and Skippy's rucksacks off the ground.
"To Oregon." Angel replied.
I pulled a photo from within my backpack and buried it beneath the dirt next to where Skippy's coffin lay. From the corner of my eye I saw Angel smile slightly, an approval of my goodbye present. The picture I had left for my dear friend was one of Angel, Skippy and myself on the boat crossing from England to America. A kind sailor had taken it for us and it showed us all when we were the happiest we had ever been. Angel's green hair was blowing freely in the sea breeze and she looked almost comical because of the way it stuck out everywhere. She had a carefree smile plastered on her youthful face, and you were yet to see the scares from battles she had quickly gained on arrival. My long blond hair had been tied into a plait which hung over my shoulder and appeared to be unaffected by the wind. I looked up at Skippy and Angel as if they were Goddesses, and being only 5'2", I was literally looking up at them. Skippy smiled widely and the camera, one of her brown eyes closed. She was winking at the sailor who had just complimented us on something I had long forgotten. Skippy would have remembered what he had said, she never lost anything and her memories were always so vivid.
"Bye Skippy." I whispered, waving at her grave. "I'll see you again one day. I promise."
Angel wrapped her arm around me and we began to walk north towards Oregon, leaving our best friend sleeping for ever. We were going to destroy BL/ind. It was no longer a maybe.
I'm a Killjoy. My name is Dusty Sunset Voltage.
Sunlight left the sky as the dark wooden coffin was lowered into the ground slowly. My eyes pricked with tears when the first shovel of dirt covered the old box, which one of my best friends lay in. Angel stood next to me, her golden eyes distant and emotionless. Never again would I let myself show so much weakness. Never again would I let myself fell pain...
At the age of ten I was sent to an Institution for Young Ladies in the attempt to make me appreciate the better things in life. The better things being how to be a social climber, a supporter for my already chosen husband (a lord, for no less would do for my mother), and all the rest of the certain talents I must have to become great, well mannered lady. At first I followed the orders, it was after all leading to a more wonderful life. I was timid, only befriending the school's rabbit, which later on in the week I ended up eating with my fellow classmates. But shortly after my arrival Angel arrived.
She was different from everyone else and she opened my eyes to how violent the world really was, teaching me about the wonderful technology that was guns and much more skills to protect myself in life. I grew quick, developing my own talents, and became somewhat of a professional when it came to gun-making. And after years of training for a battle that had to arise. Then, in the year 2018, we heard rumors of Better Living Industries attempting to manipulate the entire world, starting in Battery City, California, and heading to the rest of the globe. So we packed our bags and with our close friend Skippy by our side, we left for America.
After a tedious journey which took us almost three months of walking, hitchhiking and sailing we finally made it to the east side of California, but unable to get out of Nevada and into California itself. We were still young, me being the eldest at only 23, and were yet to class ourselves as official killjoys, as at the time that name was unheard of to us. We were outsiders in the world of freedom fighters, so when we did try to infiltrate California, Skippy was shot. It broke my heart watching my beautiful friend being killed by people who used to be on our side, and she was a truly wonderful person who put her everybody before herself. She was tough but the dracs we faced were tougher and sometimes you're lucky to just lose one.
As the final shovel of dirt covered Skippy's body, I let the tears flow from my eyes freely. Angel placed her hand on my shoulder gently, her face still unable to show any emotions. Skippy's death had hurt Angel more than it had me, she had known Skippy for much longer than I, and they were practically twins in personalities, looks and their outlook on life, but as we stood and mourned together Angel seemed to be completely empty.
After over an hour of constant tears, I managed to sniffle away the next on slaughter and put on a brave face.
"To Oregon?" I asked, picking mine and Skippy's rucksacks off the ground.
"To Oregon." Angel replied.
I pulled a photo from within my backpack and buried it beneath the dirt next to where Skippy's coffin lay. From the corner of my eye I saw Angel smile slightly, an approval of my goodbye present. The picture I had left for my dear friend was one of Angel, Skippy and myself on the boat crossing from England to America. A kind sailor had taken it for us and it showed us all when we were the happiest we had ever been. Angel's green hair was blowing freely in the sea breeze and she looked almost comical because of the way it stuck out everywhere. She had a carefree smile plastered on her youthful face, and you were yet to see the scares from battles she had quickly gained on arrival. My long blond hair had been tied into a plait which hung over my shoulder and appeared to be unaffected by the wind. I looked up at Skippy and Angel as if they were Goddesses, and being only 5'2", I was literally looking up at them. Skippy smiled widely and the camera, one of her brown eyes closed. She was winking at the sailor who had just complimented us on something I had long forgotten. Skippy would have remembered what he had said, she never lost anything and her memories were always so vivid.
"Bye Skippy." I whispered, waving at her grave. "I'll see you again one day. I promise."
Angel wrapped her arm around me and we began to walk north towards Oregon, leaving our best friend sleeping for ever. We were going to destroy BL/ind. It was no longer a maybe.
I'm a Killjoy. My name is Dusty Sunset Voltage.
♠ ♠ ♠
Hello all you Zone Rats, Dusty here giving you the news as it happens. I can't tell you much more, but if I could I would. Those dracs are constantly trying to prevent my fellow authors and I from giving you the truth. Don't try and come to a deal with them. They may have been our brothers and sisters once, but now they are our enemies. I know they had no choice when it came to putting on those masks, but we have to soldier on and treat every enemy the same. Be careful, Killjoys. You never know which day might be your last.