Thread: A New Low (iridium248)

This is a roleplay based in the Borderlands world. Pandora... Few knew what it actually meant, where it stemmed from. Go through enough researchers, if you truly cared enough about such a desolate place, and you might find out that the junkyard of a world was long ago named after a mythological box from a forgotten planet. Dig even further - though, why would you? - and you might find the significance of the mythological item. Perhaps you'd get a kick knowing it. Perhaps there was a degree of morbid amusement in how even when this planet was first colonized that the people back then knew it would be a complete shithole, for they named it after a box which was said to contain every evil in the world Avarice. Pride. Prejudice. Envy. Theft. Rape, and murder. It was said that this thing, this 'pandora's box' contained a shred of hope despite all of these evils, but anyone who had spent even a month on the planet, even a goddamn day, could see that if any such hope existed, it was simply for the agony of it then being taken away. Pandora was a planet one person should never wish upon another. Scale every inch of the place and you would find only two things small colonies built of jagged sheet metal and rotten wood, settled in valleys and alcoves where the sandstorms weren't as bad, and endless stretches of wasteland. Wastelands of dirt and wild beasts, wastelands of rancid trash piled upon rancid trash neither was realistically inhabitable. The only people you might even find in venturing out to such places, should you go mad, and should you luck into someone before you die, were bandits, savages of society who holed up in such places because they were so awful that not even a rival gang would put up with it to come and shoot them dead. Why live in such a world? Because you were born here, and because there was no way out. There were no ships off of the planet, the galaxy well aware of the type of people living here and in the value in keeping them isolated. The planet was allowed to continue existing solely to serve as a garbage dump, rather than dump into space where a lightspeed ship might strike debris and go up in flames without even knowing it. So why come to such a place? That was often the question, the joke toward any new faces the poor bastards had no clue they'd never be able to leave, did they? Oh well. Not like it really mattered. Most 'visitors' were skag food within their first week anyway. Well goddamn, Rade Zayben said with a laugh, middle-aged and bald, leaning forward on the counter of his sheet metal booth at the Circle of Death, a 'sport arena' in the Arid Badlands. He leaned forward in a heavy, sloppy slump, shameless in the fact that he didn't know the name, hell, eye, even hair color of the person standing in front of him, outside the booth. They ain't anything great, but I can't quite remember the last time we had a woman out here. Her tits. He was staring at them, at Lilith's chest for the past few minutes, his eyes never bothering to rise above it. What were they talking about again? ...Hm? Anyway, you saw my post over on the board, did you? Well, fine. Heh heh. It'll be a shame to see you torn to bits, but maybe if the pieces of you left over are big enough... A woman 'round here goes for quite a bit 'a cash, you know. Even half of one would fetch a nice price. Though I suppose it matters what half. Breaking his glance, an act that had only happened once or twice so far since the redhead approached his booth, Rade looked over about forty feet to the metal entrance of the arena. Once closed, it now raised as the cheering of the few dozen people inside gradually died down. Heh... looks like they got 'im. Another sucker I don't gotta pay. Back to the woman. Anyway, back to her chest, the standard going rate is four grand. You go in. Skags everywhere. They win, you get eaten alive and everyone has a laugh. You win, you get four grand. Very simple. Even a woman should be able to understand those rules. Smirking, he cast another look over to the now-open gateway into the arena. The skags, some quite large, could be seen in the distance being rounded up and ushered back into their pens. Back to her chest. Though you bein' a female an' all is a rare treat, so I'm gonna go out and make you an offer for my customers. He looked down, eyes trailing her flat abdomen to her crotch and thighs. Then, an ever-wicked smile, he looked back to the woman's chest. You take off that top 'n bottom, you manage to slay those shits in there like that, and I'll think about adding something to the prize to make it worth your while.