Thread: Empire - City of Corruption (Black_Out and Violet8518)

Long dark nails of ebony black that sparkled with prickles of silver dust stretched out over a globe of shimmering crystal. The clouds of paled white and royal blue swirled about within as the shadow of the Visionary loomed over the crystal sphere. No reflection shone upon the opaque surface of the object as the gifted eyes of the woman were absorbed in the patterns unfolding within the growing storm contained within the shimmering globe. It grew in intensity, flooding her eyes in a blinding brightness as her sight fell into the vortex of mists that now spun furiously about within the mystical ball. Darkness swiftly ruled, though the faint sound of music broke through the veil of black and made it more palatable. It started as a barely audible thing that gained volume with every passing tick of the clock. The scope of vision began to rise up out of the darkness as the song gained strength and clarity. Dark grey pools bled away the sheet of pitch night blackness. The wispy puddles of grey began to grow and spread taking place of the vanquished dark. They softened into a yellow glow that rose up and defined the shape of a room from where the music was blaring. A smoke stained cracked plaster ceiling was illuminated by an old dusty ceiling light of yellow glass. It's meager offering of light fought against the grey pools that had formed into the swirling shapes of billowing smoke that swam about the room. Rough and hardened hands freckled with dark hairs flicked a trio of thin red poker cards forward over the green velvet face of a poker table. The cards flipped in mid air as the deft fingers they left from spun a turning gesture into their flight. They slid across the table, landing face up, displaying three nines to the discontent grumbling of the others around the table. Don't worry fella's, you'll make it all back after our withdrawal from the Hanover Credit Union tomorrow. The grease sickened black haired ex-con with heavy mutton chops and a variety of gang and prison tattoos remarked while his greedy fingers drew the waiting pile of cash back towards himself. The vision drew back, revealing the entire dimly lit and smoke choked room. Guns were set out around the table, nearby each player like they were a necessity to be part of the game. The foursome of cons and crooks laughed before they resumed their game of chance. Empty cans of cheap beer were crumpled up and tossed aside like trash. Fresh ones were opened, while more then one bottle of strong liquor were passed around among the plotting criminals. The smell of marijuana filled the room as one of the bleary red eyed men worked to shuffle the deck for the next hand. The spying eye turned away, drawn by the current of the smoke that was pulled out into the night through a partially cracked open window. Glistening wet pavement several stories down greeted the gravity influenced gaze as it sped out into the night. Streaks of light reflected off the rain slicked roads below as the driven eye raced by. Those lines of stretched and fuzzy light passed in a blur beneath the turbulent randomness of the eyes travels. It swarmed up a rickety rusted fire escape in serious need of replacement. From their it shot skyward, leaving behind the rooftop of some typical high rise complex of overpriced apartments where the tenants struggled to pay rent to the uncompromising slum lords that owned them. The distant glow of the sprawling city beneath basked the bottoms of a dense cluster of rain clouds in a mix of soft saturating colors. The sweeping flight of the lens peaked and turned back down towards the Earth. It blasted through the night air like some sort of guided rocket as it shot across the middle of a main drag that cut through the heart of the city. It traveled unhindered by the traffic below as the swerving cars maneuvered about in an attempt to avoid an ongoing high speed police chase . Bullets shot out of the back of a shattered window that belonged to a dark brown sedan. Masked crooks took aim from that vantage point while officers pursued and returned fire with reckless abandon as the pursuit funneled over a wide and long bridge. Swirling spins turned the focus down and over the protective embankments and left the dangerous pursuit of justice to sprint away to some as of yet unknown conclusion. Beneath the noisy overpass was a jungle of cardboard shanty's and tents that were home to just a small portion of the poor and destitute of Empire City. Fires blazed warmth from within steel drums and old rusted metal trash cans, their light defining the shape of the dried up trash ridden canal that they had claimed. The homeless, unlucky, and addicted mingled here in this lawless refuge beneath the shelter of the rumbling bridge overhead. The exploring lens swept through the randomness of the settlemen t before turning to bring its attentions upon a cluster of weary sagged tents where a small handful of the cities forgotten had gathered. There they all sat and toiled away with bottles around a singular figure dressed in disheveled layers of discarded hand-me-down fancy garments. A crooked and dented top hat capped his head, giving him the appearance of a ring master without a circus. His features obscured by a deep red scarf that fell away in snaking pattern around where he sat perched upon his throne of an empty plastic milk crate. His ragged jumbled dark hair fell low as it framed his face. His maddened eyes were shielded by darkened glasses leaving only his thin nose and slim portions of his cheeks to peek out. A pair of red scuffed up pointed tap dancing shoes drew attention down his long wiry legs. Scratched up black leather gloves played with an arrangement of red tubes of dynamite. Thick layers of duct tape were woven around them, strapping them together in a nice explosive bundle. The villain known as the Vagabond peered up as he looked between the crew of desperate men and women that were the sheep in his flock. His hidden gaze shifted between them watching as they went about filling empty bottles with kerosene. Stuffing doused rags into the opened tops and setting the completed molotov cocktails into an empty cardboard beer case. He nodded sharply and tapped the metal tips of his dance shoes to the ground in excitement as he gave his project a brief inspection before setting it aside and gathering up more sticks of dynamite into his lap. The flying movements of the lens didn't settle upon the scene for long as it curled away from the self styled champion of the homeless. The broken and uneven slabs of weathered concrete darted in a blur beneath the travels of the unseen eye as the crackling fire lit sanctuary of the poor was left behind. Up the curving walls of the trash ridden canal the speedy travels of the curious lens went. From there it zigzagged across smaller side streets , ducking around clustered brick and mortar dwellings that walled off the lightly traveled roads. Down and through a series of dingy dark and dark alleyways it swept. It churned along, exiting the maze of alleys as it swept over a rundown park. Spotlights that flickered, or were all together devoid of light shown a meager amount of light upon the shadowy empty basketball courts. Cages surround weed claimed tennis courts where nets sagged limply between the bent poles that they were anchored too. The dimmed lights of red cargo van rolled up into the parking lot driven by a thick looking chap of Italian descent. The soft glow of slow burning cigarette cast an orange hue across his fattened features while his grubby fingers pulled away from the steering wheel and opened the door. The plump man with a balding patch that reflected the sparse light stepped out of the van as the mystical view swung past his plodding steps. As the eye swirled upwards into the night sky the silhouetted figures of a pair of dark leather clad men saddled upon heavy duty motorcycles passed into view. They sat parked in the shadows of the intermittent flashing white lights of the empty parking lot. The burly and large man was making his way across the peeled lines of white paint that defined the boundaries of the empty basketball courts. One of the bikers propped a heavy looking black duffel bag across the chrome of the bikes handle bars while the other traced rough fingers across the handle of a pistol hidden behind his back. That pending meeting of drug related intentions was lost as the eye turned away and soared back up into the drizzle that fell from the night sky. There was more to see in this city of depraved souls, more then enough to keep it's heroic entities busy tonight, and every other night to come.