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Dekadin's Ordinary Life

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Dekadin's Ordinary Life

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Circ on Sat May 19, 2007 1:58 am

Rumors and lies spill out of Veritas, intentioned to undermine the present sector capital city, Verisimilitude. They manifest in newspaper articles, nightly news broadcasts, and street gossip. People hear; some shrug it off while others believe, but people hear. Words have a way of becoming poison, even in the hearts and minds of those who know better. It is a poison that has proven itself more lethal to mankind than any chemical. It is deceit.


Rising above the city like an awesome beast is the Veris Borj, one of the most immense buildings in the system. It is crystal and light; a saber rising from dark bed of hornblende thorns, unfurling jaggy glass wings to embrace a sparkling, bisected sphere of obsidian plates afloat in perpetual electrostatic current. Over two hundred stories flash with life, and ten-thousand eyes in flickering polychromasia gaze down at the city below from its three sheer faces. Veris Borj is so high that the proprietors pump oxygen to the top floors, and even then it is as thin as the air atop the Himalayas back on Earth. The building is a monument; a tribute, if not an improvement, to the mankind’s terrestrial achievements, housing everything from shopping malls, to endless cubicle catacombs, to weaponry development laboratories. Such an architectural masterpiece is not an uncommon sight in Verisimilitude, as the city cannot support sprawl. Buildings tower up like narrow spears and descend to equally astounding lengths throughout, all to accommodate a ridiculous population per-hectare.

From the lush landscape blooming around the Veris Borj’s base strides an individual making a recent departure from the behemoth. Around him is a throng of people, winding unceasingly and haphazardly about. Above him is the stadium, the sphere floating in a blue mesh of electric light, fashioned of two magnetically-linked twin domes that hold the crowd. The stadium is preparing itself for a new game and a new mob to look on, but there more interesting things await the man taking a path contrary to that of everyone else.

Dekadin, the man exiting the Veris Borj, inclines his stride for a destination of far less opulence in its characterization. Oh yes, he is going to be watching a game of football, but one where the players are hardly professionals. They are children.

. . .

With an unread newspaper poking out from underneath his armpit, Dekadin breathes in the wonderful scent of Verisimilitude. The city is called Veris by the natives, he reminds himself, then sweeps the self-chastisement from his mind. Oxygen is thick and heavy at ground level, reeking as heavily of brine as seaside air. It is the algae, an organic life form extending for literally miles around him, feeding off the nebular gasses local to this region of space. Blending with the brine is the exotic aroma of flora from all across the galaxy, albeit primarily from Earth. Again, he takes a breath, allowing the harmonious combination of fragrances to burn his nostrils and stimulate his mind to the state of being alive. It is going to be a good day.

The way from his penthouse in the Veris Borj to his current destination is heavy with flowering vegetation. His route intentionally happens along this string of parks, despite being slightly longer for it. In his mind, there is no point to rushing through life and missing out on its beauty, even if it does take him twenty minutes longer to get to wherever he happens to be going.

By the time he has taken his seat on a stone bench just beyond the field, the game is underway—young children are kicking the ball and screaming supportively to their teammates until they pause for the quick gasp of air that will fuel their encouragement. The game itself is a peculiar one, with a ball specifically designed to behave appropriately in a weak gravity environment. Additionally, various obstacles are strewn throughout the field, including ramps, half-walls, and trenches. Finally, there are three windows through which the ball may pass and suddenly appear in a drastically different section of the field. Dekadin isn’t sure on the intricacies of the game, but he does know that when the ball encounters one end of the field or another, it means score!

While the event carries on, Dekadin opens his newspaper up and begins to peruse the contents. “Hmph. More bad news from Veritas. Another slaughter. Prefect Arkady demanding the criminals be brought to justice. All gloom.”

Shoving the article away, he places his elbows on his knees and focuses on the game; a tie game. To him, those are the best kind. Nobody walks away a loser.

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