Categories > Anime/Manga > Trigun > Plants in the City
VIII. Neon Rising
Every city had its creepy history. Haunted houses, areas of the city that were better left unspoken about. Grey City had Grigori Alley and that in itself was infinitely worse.
Grigori Alley was fifteen miles long, ten feet wide, and between buildings that were fifty stories tall. It was the home to over fifteen hundred Plant Angels incased in glass tunnels, an experimental style favorable over sixty years ago. There was never a more appropriate name for such a lonely street. It wasn't a street, just more of an access port of sorts.
The Angels watched. And watched they did. They would sometimes appear to people, seemingly frail naked women with out of proportion limbs and headless plump cherubs growing of their backs.
No one walked down Grigori Alley unless they had to.
They sat there, many with their hair so black only white streaks remained. Several should have been scheduled for last runs years ago. No one wanted to do a last run on a Grigori Alley Plant. The Angels would lash themselves against the glass and no one doubted that one day, one would break free. So all they did was install more Plant Angels.
Up to five shared cramped tubes, many merging into single life forms as time went by. Then they were grossly beautiful with multiple heads, faces, squirming tentacles, legs, and arms alike. Sometime they would separate and in the absence of male plants (all kept in an unknown location) would copulate for weeks, clouding the fluid in the bulbs, filling Grigori Alley with their song. And then they would remerge and sleep, dreaming of an existence better than their own. This existence was known to none. The Plant Angels would speak to no one and no one would dare stay around long enough to see if they would actually speak aloud.
Only one man dared to walk the fifteen miles. A man who shone like the neon in the city. Brilliant Dynamites Neon. He came for the sparkle.
Confidently, the man strode into the ten foot wide alley, seemingly narrower due to his immense size. The Angels stirred and threw themselves again their bulbs, some leaving bloody smears against the glass. They hated him. They hated everything.
BDN feared nothing. To prove his fearlessness, he would walk the length of the alley before a heist, because he could and there was shine.
The Angels snarled and hissed, harpy women with impossibly beautiful faces and long razor-like teeth. Electricity cracked and snapped around them. Only females powered the city. BDN heard by word of mouth that they kept the males in the some facility somewhere. He didn't care. He was surrounded by lovely, hissing, homicidal Plant Angels. This was death. This was what he could face at any moment.
A Plant Angel slammed against her bulb so hard slight stress cracks appeared in the glass. BDN bowed as he walked out of Grigori Alley. "Keep shining, ladies."
The last fifteen plants in Grigori Alley snapped and snarled, scratching at the glass so hard that their fingers bled. "I like your style," BDN said, smiling with his teeth filed into points and placing his hat over his dreadlocks. He had filed his teeth like that ever since he had seen a Plant Angel smile. "You sparkle and shine... how glorious can you get?"
He disappeared back into the sewers and subway system for another heist.
ooo
"You going to be on here any longer, kids?" the conductor of the number seven express snarled.
The older of two adjusted his shades. "I think you got it wrong, Pops. We're not children... we're teenagers."
The conductor sighed. The kid had arrived about two in the morning with his girlfriend... showed him his unlimited pass and told him "Just wanna see how far this will take us."
Technically, he could do nothing. The kid, teenager rather, had a point. Customers, in his own opinion, were meant to come on, ride to their stop and get off. Not hang around, crack rude jokes, and occasional make out. "Damnit," he cursed, "There has to be something in rules and regulations on this."
The girl looked at him. Obviously she was a punk of some kind as a bunch of hair in the middle of her head had been dyed a glossy black. And were those pointed ears? The girl had pointed ears, long and flushed flat against her hair. The girl frowned, covering up her ears. "It isn't polite to stare you knw."
"Yeah," her boyfriend said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "There is a viewing fee. Fifty up front. Plastic, cash... I'm not picky."
Only two more hours until the end of his shift. Why couldn't they come fast enough.
ooo
"Gee Ma'am, isn't the subway system fascinating?"
Meryl held her nose shut. "It stinks," she groaned, wondering how a city so technologically advanced could run the subway through the sewers.
And it did. Back in its heyday, before the expansion, it had apparently been a beautiful gleaming line. Now the only thing left was shattered tile and dreams. The homeless lived and died in these tunnels, proving that no matter how low you seemed to sink, there was always some way you could sink down lower.
In the shallow wastewater under the tracks, Meryl swore she could see a human hand with a wedding ring stuck on one of its swollen fingers float by. She gagged. "Ma'am," Millie asked, patting her back and handing her a napkin to wipe the sick off her face, "Are you okay?"
"As okay as a something or other," she said, throwing the napkin in the water. "I'm not sure."
Something ran over her foot. Great. She hopped on the other foot, screamed, cursed, and shook her fist at the heavens. "Ow, ow, ow, ow."
"Gee Old Lady," someone said near her left side. "You should watch where I'm going." It was a scruffy kid in a pair of overalls and a bandage slapped on one cheek.
Meryl gritted her teeth. "Old lady?" she repeated, "Old lady." The boy didn't answer her. "I'm twenty-one for crying out loud."
He finally turned around, dropped the cooler's rope (she hadn't noticed it before, but the tracks left on her boot suggested it had run over her foot.), before giving her a long and appraising look. "Ma'am," Millie chimed in, "Maybe he'll say sorry."
The kid stared at her, walked around her, and then looked up. "Meh," he said, "I think you look forty."
Meryl clenched her fist as the train crept up to the station. "Why that dirty little..." Her hands clenched and unclenched as the kid dragged his cooler onto the subway car farthest away. "He's going to get and get it good."
Millie tugged on her cape. "Get what good, Meryl?"
She sighed, "Never mind. Let's just get on the train. Anytime more any this." Meryl wrinkled her nose, "Well, let's just get out of this stink trap in a hurry."
Millie grinned. She was cheerful as ever. Meryl didn't think that anything could faze a Thompson. Ever. "Right Ma'am."
ooo
The comm in BDN's hands crackled to life. BDN lit a Sparkler Day Cigarette and held the comm to his ear. "Speak and shine."
Crack, hiss, pop. "I'm on the train."
BDN grinned from ear to ear as the Bad Lads prepared their weapons. "Good work kid, do you job and make it sparkle."
"Over and out."
...to be continued.
Every city had its creepy history. Haunted houses, areas of the city that were better left unspoken about. Grey City had Grigori Alley and that in itself was infinitely worse.
Grigori Alley was fifteen miles long, ten feet wide, and between buildings that were fifty stories tall. It was the home to over fifteen hundred Plant Angels incased in glass tunnels, an experimental style favorable over sixty years ago. There was never a more appropriate name for such a lonely street. It wasn't a street, just more of an access port of sorts.
The Angels watched. And watched they did. They would sometimes appear to people, seemingly frail naked women with out of proportion limbs and headless plump cherubs growing of their backs.
No one walked down Grigori Alley unless they had to.
They sat there, many with their hair so black only white streaks remained. Several should have been scheduled for last runs years ago. No one wanted to do a last run on a Grigori Alley Plant. The Angels would lash themselves against the glass and no one doubted that one day, one would break free. So all they did was install more Plant Angels.
Up to five shared cramped tubes, many merging into single life forms as time went by. Then they were grossly beautiful with multiple heads, faces, squirming tentacles, legs, and arms alike. Sometime they would separate and in the absence of male plants (all kept in an unknown location) would copulate for weeks, clouding the fluid in the bulbs, filling Grigori Alley with their song. And then they would remerge and sleep, dreaming of an existence better than their own. This existence was known to none. The Plant Angels would speak to no one and no one would dare stay around long enough to see if they would actually speak aloud.
Only one man dared to walk the fifteen miles. A man who shone like the neon in the city. Brilliant Dynamites Neon. He came for the sparkle.
Confidently, the man strode into the ten foot wide alley, seemingly narrower due to his immense size. The Angels stirred and threw themselves again their bulbs, some leaving bloody smears against the glass. They hated him. They hated everything.
BDN feared nothing. To prove his fearlessness, he would walk the length of the alley before a heist, because he could and there was shine.
The Angels snarled and hissed, harpy women with impossibly beautiful faces and long razor-like teeth. Electricity cracked and snapped around them. Only females powered the city. BDN heard by word of mouth that they kept the males in the some facility somewhere. He didn't care. He was surrounded by lovely, hissing, homicidal Plant Angels. This was death. This was what he could face at any moment.
A Plant Angel slammed against her bulb so hard slight stress cracks appeared in the glass. BDN bowed as he walked out of Grigori Alley. "Keep shining, ladies."
The last fifteen plants in Grigori Alley snapped and snarled, scratching at the glass so hard that their fingers bled. "I like your style," BDN said, smiling with his teeth filed into points and placing his hat over his dreadlocks. He had filed his teeth like that ever since he had seen a Plant Angel smile. "You sparkle and shine... how glorious can you get?"
He disappeared back into the sewers and subway system for another heist.
ooo
"You going to be on here any longer, kids?" the conductor of the number seven express snarled.
The older of two adjusted his shades. "I think you got it wrong, Pops. We're not children... we're teenagers."
The conductor sighed. The kid had arrived about two in the morning with his girlfriend... showed him his unlimited pass and told him "Just wanna see how far this will take us."
Technically, he could do nothing. The kid, teenager rather, had a point. Customers, in his own opinion, were meant to come on, ride to their stop and get off. Not hang around, crack rude jokes, and occasional make out. "Damnit," he cursed, "There has to be something in rules and regulations on this."
The girl looked at him. Obviously she was a punk of some kind as a bunch of hair in the middle of her head had been dyed a glossy black. And were those pointed ears? The girl had pointed ears, long and flushed flat against her hair. The girl frowned, covering up her ears. "It isn't polite to stare you knw."
"Yeah," her boyfriend said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "There is a viewing fee. Fifty up front. Plastic, cash... I'm not picky."
Only two more hours until the end of his shift. Why couldn't they come fast enough.
ooo
"Gee Ma'am, isn't the subway system fascinating?"
Meryl held her nose shut. "It stinks," she groaned, wondering how a city so technologically advanced could run the subway through the sewers.
And it did. Back in its heyday, before the expansion, it had apparently been a beautiful gleaming line. Now the only thing left was shattered tile and dreams. The homeless lived and died in these tunnels, proving that no matter how low you seemed to sink, there was always some way you could sink down lower.
In the shallow wastewater under the tracks, Meryl swore she could see a human hand with a wedding ring stuck on one of its swollen fingers float by. She gagged. "Ma'am," Millie asked, patting her back and handing her a napkin to wipe the sick off her face, "Are you okay?"
"As okay as a something or other," she said, throwing the napkin in the water. "I'm not sure."
Something ran over her foot. Great. She hopped on the other foot, screamed, cursed, and shook her fist at the heavens. "Ow, ow, ow, ow."
"Gee Old Lady," someone said near her left side. "You should watch where I'm going." It was a scruffy kid in a pair of overalls and a bandage slapped on one cheek.
Meryl gritted her teeth. "Old lady?" she repeated, "Old lady." The boy didn't answer her. "I'm twenty-one for crying out loud."
He finally turned around, dropped the cooler's rope (she hadn't noticed it before, but the tracks left on her boot suggested it had run over her foot.), before giving her a long and appraising look. "Ma'am," Millie chimed in, "Maybe he'll say sorry."
The kid stared at her, walked around her, and then looked up. "Meh," he said, "I think you look forty."
Meryl clenched her fist as the train crept up to the station. "Why that dirty little..." Her hands clenched and unclenched as the kid dragged his cooler onto the subway car farthest away. "He's going to get and get it good."
Millie tugged on her cape. "Get what good, Meryl?"
She sighed, "Never mind. Let's just get on the train. Anytime more any this." Meryl wrinkled her nose, "Well, let's just get out of this stink trap in a hurry."
Millie grinned. She was cheerful as ever. Meryl didn't think that anything could faze a Thompson. Ever. "Right Ma'am."
ooo
The comm in BDN's hands crackled to life. BDN lit a Sparkler Day Cigarette and held the comm to his ear. "Speak and shine."
Crack, hiss, pop. "I'm on the train."
BDN grinned from ear to ear as the Bad Lads prepared their weapons. "Good work kid, do you job and make it sparkle."
"Over and out."
...to be continued.
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