Back History... Establishin' The Turf
I weren't accustomed to speakin' into some machine like this. As a rule I ain't fond of old technology, since the stories they tell says that it was the advancement of knowledge of 'lectricity that gone and killed off all the old humans n' muties. They say it was the unlockin' of some kinda secret that wrecked off all the buildin's in the city where I live.
Once, when I was not anythin' but five years old, my ma showed me a lib'ry full a these things called books, that the old people used t' make. There ain't many books left in this world, my ma said that after the Discovery people burned thier books in the winter tide 'cuz they had nuthin' else to heat thier homes.
That's how it is here, you use what you can when you can, or you'd be killed by Mama Nature or by Homosapiens or Homosuperior.
I guess I'm Homosuperior, that's what ma told me anyway. Anyone with a Gift she says, that's a Superior. That's what'll make ya feared by mos' humans and a target by Superior gangs. Me ma tried t' get me to join one, the Lektricits, 'cause she figures I'd be safer with them, but they didn' like me much. I was booted out affer a week.
Ma died when I was nothin' more then ten, and I stayed on my own. Like mos' childs I was the only one, and I was the product of rape. That's how it is here, the only way human's keep the kids comin' are through evil men's pleasures.
But I swore t' my ma as she lay dyin' of the Sickness, I weren't a girl t' be messed with, I wouldn't let no one touch me 'less I wanted t' be touched. She had an awful death, ma, but unlike all the others in this city she weren't some stupid street vermin. She knew the Sickness only came in rats and blood, so she keapt me close while she could instead of sendin’ me off prematurly. She taught me survival techiniques, how t' stay hidden, even without my Superiority. She said I might need it sometime.
Anyway, after my ma died I was on my own, but even in her last months o' ramblin' and wild Sick ways she taught me what I needed to know.
As soon as she were dead I moved out, leavin' her to the rats 'cauase there weren't anythin' else I could do.
I went down into the less inhabited part o' the city, where less gangs roamed. It was safer there 'cause it were far away from the other gangs, and as a rule gangs like to be near eachother so they can daily kick the shit outta the underdogs.
So I journeyed from my childhood home, a couple of rundown, almost leveled buildings once called Broadway (accordin’ t’ me ma’s old history books), and went north until I reached a bunch of run down buildings in even worse condition than I was used to. That was probably why there was noone there when I got there, even though I searched the place out for a week before I was satisfied.
I didn’t want anyone livin’ near me, and with hardly anyone livin’ in an old city like this anymore, full of buildin’s that crumbled when ya touched them, it was an easy enough task. In many places Mama Nature was taking over again, black vineroots that you could eat sometimes growin’ up over the sides of buildin’s and makin’ a good ladder to crawl up. But everythin’, from the remains of the city to the plants startin’ to retake it were black.
I found me an old apartment buildin', with a room on a second story, if you could imagine a buildin’ able to hold up another room on top of it. Ain't many who can say they have a good room on a second floor.
Firs' thing I did was find a bunch of rags and clean out the place. After a while I could get rid of the dust and cobwebs, and finally it looked alright. there was only one window in the room, and it was small and narrow, but it were a good place to be. I went through the city for a few days and found old blankets and a pillow, brought'em back and made my bed in the corner you couldn't see from the door. And then I finished my new home with a prize I had found in a back corner, a gasoline lamp that lit up the whole place no trouble at night.
That night, sleepin' on my own for the firs' time in all my life, I missed my ma more than anythin', and I was afraid of what would happen' to me.
On my own at last, but with nowhere to turn, the prospect of being all alone in a desolate, destroyed world full with enemies was terrifyin'. An' I never stopped bein' afraid neither, at least, not until the day I met Henry Peter McCoy.
Once, when I was not anythin' but five years old, my ma showed me a lib'ry full a these things called books, that the old people used t' make. There ain't many books left in this world, my ma said that after the Discovery people burned thier books in the winter tide 'cuz they had nuthin' else to heat thier homes.
That's how it is here, you use what you can when you can, or you'd be killed by Mama Nature or by Homosapiens or Homosuperior.
I guess I'm Homosuperior, that's what ma told me anyway. Anyone with a Gift she says, that's a Superior. That's what'll make ya feared by mos' humans and a target by Superior gangs. Me ma tried t' get me to join one, the Lektricits, 'cause she figures I'd be safer with them, but they didn' like me much. I was booted out affer a week.
Ma died when I was nothin' more then ten, and I stayed on my own. Like mos' childs I was the only one, and I was the product of rape. That's how it is here, the only way human's keep the kids comin' are through evil men's pleasures.
But I swore t' my ma as she lay dyin' of the Sickness, I weren't a girl t' be messed with, I wouldn't let no one touch me 'less I wanted t' be touched. She had an awful death, ma, but unlike all the others in this city she weren't some stupid street vermin. She knew the Sickness only came in rats and blood, so she keapt me close while she could instead of sendin’ me off prematurly. She taught me survival techiniques, how t' stay hidden, even without my Superiority. She said I might need it sometime.
Anyway, after my ma died I was on my own, but even in her last months o' ramblin' and wild Sick ways she taught me what I needed to know.
As soon as she were dead I moved out, leavin' her to the rats 'cauase there weren't anythin' else I could do.
I went down into the less inhabited part o' the city, where less gangs roamed. It was safer there 'cause it were far away from the other gangs, and as a rule gangs like to be near eachother so they can daily kick the shit outta the underdogs.
So I journeyed from my childhood home, a couple of rundown, almost leveled buildings once called Broadway (accordin’ t’ me ma’s old history books), and went north until I reached a bunch of run down buildings in even worse condition than I was used to. That was probably why there was noone there when I got there, even though I searched the place out for a week before I was satisfied.
I didn’t want anyone livin’ near me, and with hardly anyone livin’ in an old city like this anymore, full of buildin’s that crumbled when ya touched them, it was an easy enough task. In many places Mama Nature was taking over again, black vineroots that you could eat sometimes growin’ up over the sides of buildin’s and makin’ a good ladder to crawl up. But everythin’, from the remains of the city to the plants startin’ to retake it were black.
I found me an old apartment buildin', with a room on a second story, if you could imagine a buildin’ able to hold up another room on top of it. Ain't many who can say they have a good room on a second floor.
Firs' thing I did was find a bunch of rags and clean out the place. After a while I could get rid of the dust and cobwebs, and finally it looked alright. there was only one window in the room, and it was small and narrow, but it were a good place to be. I went through the city for a few days and found old blankets and a pillow, brought'em back and made my bed in the corner you couldn't see from the door. And then I finished my new home with a prize I had found in a back corner, a gasoline lamp that lit up the whole place no trouble at night.
That night, sleepin' on my own for the firs' time in all my life, I missed my ma more than anythin', and I was afraid of what would happen' to me.
On my own at last, but with nowhere to turn, the prospect of being all alone in a desolate, destroyed world full with enemies was terrifyin'. An' I never stopped bein' afraid neither, at least, not until the day I met Henry Peter McCoy.