Agrigaun
21-04-2009, 06:34
Bezuar, capital city of Agriguan
12:43 PM, local time
Thomas sighed and rubbed his temples with deep strokes of his fingertips. He glanced out the window of the taxi, the purple street lights passing by in eye blinks of seconds. The came to a slow halt as the merged into a row of cars stopped at a stop light. He was now staring at a large brick building with flashing lights of every color lightning up the dark dancing figures inside of the building through the windows. Outside, a large line of anxious teens waited to enter the club who's doors were guarded by men that would scare Thomas enough to reconsider even stepping inside.
The sign of the building in bright neon lights read "The Dirty Secret". Wasn't there an "accident" there a few days back? Before he could think back, the taxi started rolling into motion again and before he knew it the club was long behind him. He sighed and looked forward, eying the taxi driver who idly smoked a cigarette as he drove. The man reminded Thomas of a hippy, with his long messy dreadlocks and scruffy goatee.
So this was it? Bezuar. Where dreams were lost...and gained...but mostly lost. In this land called Agriguan no one really cared what happened to you. There was no government to give you welfare. No post office. No libraries. No schools. The entire small nation was completely populated of adults. No one in their right mind could raise a child here.
You wanted to mail a letter? You couldn't. You were pointed to a computer. You wanted a letter? You made sure who ever was sending it wasn't handing it over to any ordinary post office. Packages went the same way. The whole country was one big Las Vegas. Casinos, night clubs, strip clubs, bars, drug dens. If it was illegal in your country it was incredibly legal here. Infact, there was nothing illegal. Well, not unless The Boss said so. Every bouncer, ever drug dealer, every shop owner, casino owner, security officer worked for The Boss either directly or through one of his subordinates. He was a mysterious figure. No one had ever seen his face, heard his voice, or "heard" of him. If you so much as spoke of him in public you did it somewhere quiet like a bathroom. If not, no one had ever heard of you. Atleast not anymore.
The whole nation was pretty much run by the mob. According to outside sources from neighboring countries following the rebellion against the monarchy in recent years a powerful crime boss, supposedly The Boss, took control of the rebelling faction. It wasn't long until he controlled the entire underworld of the nation and soon, the nation itself. No one stepped up to lead, no one dared to try and reorganize. The whole nation put themselves in debt to The Boss and paid for it now.
It took awhile, but with his enforcers, The Dead Men, eventually put the small nation in line. It was all pure anarchy. And everyone loved it. You were free to do as you pleased, as long as it wasn't against The Boss's personal laws. Fights and brawls were quickly silenced, loose lips were shut permanently. If you owed money, there was nowhere to go to hide. Everyone was his puppets, and he the Puppeteer.
When Thomas, a single and orphaned boy from a far away nation couldn't find a life in their so called "democracy" he managed to scrounge up a few dollars and buy himself a spot on one of The Boss's many human trafficking transports. Soon, he found himself in this crazed city of sex, drugs, and anarchy. But he still couldn't achieve a steady life, and one day The Dead Men, like garbage men, came by in a truck and tossed him in along with dozens of other homeless men.T They were then shipped off to a large jail like facility out in the wilds. There, he was "rehabilitated" and made useful. He was a drug runner, scourging up a small paycheck from his boss.
A few years later around the age of 23, with what he saved up, he bought him out albeit at gunpoint, and managed a steady cash flow. The Dead Men payed him a visit one night, roughed him up and put him line as a new subordinate to The Boss. He more than understood. He was soon prostituting young women looking for a living who came into the nation via the human trafficking program. Combined with his drug sales, he was living a decent life.
And now, at 36, he was sitting in this taxi cab, staring out the window. Living the "good" life this place had to offer. He looked over at the seat next to him. A young girl, a recent arrival, was sitting next to him. She looked utterly terrified with her overly applied makeup and revealing outfit. He scoffed softly and patted the back of the driver's headrest on his seat. The cab came to a halt and Thomas gestured outside to the sidewalk. "Be here at 4:00 and i'll pick you up. Make you sure you have atleast $400 by the time I get here." The girl nodded quickly and fumbled for the door handle as she quickly opened the door and scurried out onto the sidewalk, eying Thomas through the open door. "Have fun.", he said with a wicked grin as he reached over, grabbed the door and slammed it shut. The cab was off again, leaving the girl far behind them.
You never really did become a citizen of Agriguan. You were just visiting. Because no one ever stayed permanently. Whether it was on their own will or against it.
12:43 PM, local time
Thomas sighed and rubbed his temples with deep strokes of his fingertips. He glanced out the window of the taxi, the purple street lights passing by in eye blinks of seconds. The came to a slow halt as the merged into a row of cars stopped at a stop light. He was now staring at a large brick building with flashing lights of every color lightning up the dark dancing figures inside of the building through the windows. Outside, a large line of anxious teens waited to enter the club who's doors were guarded by men that would scare Thomas enough to reconsider even stepping inside.
The sign of the building in bright neon lights read "The Dirty Secret". Wasn't there an "accident" there a few days back? Before he could think back, the taxi started rolling into motion again and before he knew it the club was long behind him. He sighed and looked forward, eying the taxi driver who idly smoked a cigarette as he drove. The man reminded Thomas of a hippy, with his long messy dreadlocks and scruffy goatee.
So this was it? Bezuar. Where dreams were lost...and gained...but mostly lost. In this land called Agriguan no one really cared what happened to you. There was no government to give you welfare. No post office. No libraries. No schools. The entire small nation was completely populated of adults. No one in their right mind could raise a child here.
You wanted to mail a letter? You couldn't. You were pointed to a computer. You wanted a letter? You made sure who ever was sending it wasn't handing it over to any ordinary post office. Packages went the same way. The whole country was one big Las Vegas. Casinos, night clubs, strip clubs, bars, drug dens. If it was illegal in your country it was incredibly legal here. Infact, there was nothing illegal. Well, not unless The Boss said so. Every bouncer, ever drug dealer, every shop owner, casino owner, security officer worked for The Boss either directly or through one of his subordinates. He was a mysterious figure. No one had ever seen his face, heard his voice, or "heard" of him. If you so much as spoke of him in public you did it somewhere quiet like a bathroom. If not, no one had ever heard of you. Atleast not anymore.
The whole nation was pretty much run by the mob. According to outside sources from neighboring countries following the rebellion against the monarchy in recent years a powerful crime boss, supposedly The Boss, took control of the rebelling faction. It wasn't long until he controlled the entire underworld of the nation and soon, the nation itself. No one stepped up to lead, no one dared to try and reorganize. The whole nation put themselves in debt to The Boss and paid for it now.
It took awhile, but with his enforcers, The Dead Men, eventually put the small nation in line. It was all pure anarchy. And everyone loved it. You were free to do as you pleased, as long as it wasn't against The Boss's personal laws. Fights and brawls were quickly silenced, loose lips were shut permanently. If you owed money, there was nowhere to go to hide. Everyone was his puppets, and he the Puppeteer.
When Thomas, a single and orphaned boy from a far away nation couldn't find a life in their so called "democracy" he managed to scrounge up a few dollars and buy himself a spot on one of The Boss's many human trafficking transports. Soon, he found himself in this crazed city of sex, drugs, and anarchy. But he still couldn't achieve a steady life, and one day The Dead Men, like garbage men, came by in a truck and tossed him in along with dozens of other homeless men.T They were then shipped off to a large jail like facility out in the wilds. There, he was "rehabilitated" and made useful. He was a drug runner, scourging up a small paycheck from his boss.
A few years later around the age of 23, with what he saved up, he bought him out albeit at gunpoint, and managed a steady cash flow. The Dead Men payed him a visit one night, roughed him up and put him line as a new subordinate to The Boss. He more than understood. He was soon prostituting young women looking for a living who came into the nation via the human trafficking program. Combined with his drug sales, he was living a decent life.
And now, at 36, he was sitting in this taxi cab, staring out the window. Living the "good" life this place had to offer. He looked over at the seat next to him. A young girl, a recent arrival, was sitting next to him. She looked utterly terrified with her overly applied makeup and revealing outfit. He scoffed softly and patted the back of the driver's headrest on his seat. The cab came to a halt and Thomas gestured outside to the sidewalk. "Be here at 4:00 and i'll pick you up. Make you sure you have atleast $400 by the time I get here." The girl nodded quickly and fumbled for the door handle as she quickly opened the door and scurried out onto the sidewalk, eying Thomas through the open door. "Have fun.", he said with a wicked grin as he reached over, grabbed the door and slammed it shut. The cab was off again, leaving the girl far behind them.
You never really did become a citizen of Agriguan. You were just visiting. Because no one ever stayed permanently. Whether it was on their own will or against it.