Jeremy Schwach was born in 2029 in the sunny multicultural Revenants, an only child. His father, a member of the Praetorian Guard turned Masonric Corp engineer, wanted a better life for the family so he moved the family up the Messipi River to the very poor Port Town, in 2035; because Mid-Atlantic and Appalachian Mountain tectonic plate convergent zones caused subduction impossible to mitigate, or, in some cases, even to live with. Sea levels rose covering the Carolinas to the eastern city-states and inland to I-95.Â The east coast water is completely toxic with unknown quantities of sewage, fuel, and industrial chemicals, which have killed all sea life; vandals have lit the surface slicks on fire; Boston burned until 2016. Every coastal city-state suffered losses in the eighty to ninety percent range. The loss of 15% of its territory to the ocean, the loss of some of the most populated, symbolic, and valuable coastal city-states reduced the NAU to a loose collection of anarchist city-states. The government of the NAU relocated to Arapahoe, becoming buildings full of ineffective men and women, lacking a treasury, an organized military, a reliable communications system. Continue reading “Common Disaster”
I stood, dressed in a vintage 50/50 Merc-Tile shirt and Adidas track pants, in front of my leather lined full length mirror, holding both outfits critiquing for all flaws or compliments; examining and modifying for the best narrative. The first was J. Crew dark jeans, blue Gant Rugger cardigan, denim grey colored shirt by Band of Brothers, and Ralph Lauren shoes. The second outfit was all Sean John: a brown leather racing jacket, black crewneck sweater, dark vintage wash jeans, and white shelltop shoes.
It had been two years since Ian Jimenez; four years since ending with Jeremy Schwach. I believed they were different, but they weren’t. Both smiled to confuse, while I talked; they were egocentric, but I thought myself unique. They were cowards asking opinions like collecting pebbles, demanding emotional risks from others. I expected others to provide answers I was not willing to discover; I read greedily choosing pieces of others’ ideas to get through situations with a minimal guilt. To help with this delusion conversations and gestures were considered foreign languages to be deciphered. I had dated but remained perpetually single, only selecting those that were unavailable either emotionally, physically, or by lifestyle; there was no risk of fault or blame when everything went wrong; I only wanted the appearance of trying, that way people felt sympathy. “Dating is difficult,” they’d say and stop asking questions, so I could stay safe by not including anything that wasn’t previously established.
Pentapolis of the Valley’s number one vagabond dancehall is Etica, populated by the alienated, underweb-hackers, punks and clubbers equally.
The exterior of Etica is an uncomplicated warehouse, like any in Noex along Wuthering Canal. The area began as an extension of Parkfront, which had been a vacation spot until it was overtaken by the 1899 formation of Landing Alley, the Valley’s main shopping district.
Underneath the dancehall are large drainages, returning water from the end of the alley-canals. The mini-waterfalls were loud enough to be heard on the other side of the dancehall, where the line formed at the door of the once abandoned building. It was originally constructed between 1843 and 1846, acting as a distribution for dry goods, and turned into a taxi depot in the 1930s. It remained a depot until it was gutted by a fire in the 1960s. Afterwards, the space was occupied by a seafood restaurant, a movie theatre, a dance school, and a bagel shoppe before being foreclosed during the recession of 2011. Artistes and hackers made the warehouse their home and park during the years the building was foreclosed. The hackers decorated the main floor with neon graffiti espousing integration with the underweb. In 2014 the squatter groups worked together to collect technology, drugs, and experiences to create a 24/7/365 model of communal vagabond culture. The two social groups hybridized into a new caste of vagabonds, state identified as citizens lacking education, employment, or training – CLEET. They see the future as currency, founded in a belief in amalgamation leads to a better whole. Vagabonds believe the future belongs to them, that they do not have to adhere to a median standard life. Vagabonds spread their ideology by utilizing The Stream, further cultivating a sub-culture and style that capitalized in their outsider status. Then in 2043 FETCH magazine did a holiograph expose, “Harbingers of the Future,” on the original CLEET graffiti, bringing to attention of a capitalist who saw its appeal as a vagabond dancehall, a utopia of meaningful fun.
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Dorian dated DJ Jeremy Schwach, while having an affair with noted painter Ian Jimenez. While dating Jeremy, Dorian’s Langham apartment became a Saturday evening gathering place for vanguards in arts and letters. Admittance into Dorian’s salon was a sought-after validation, and became combination mentor, critic, and guru to those who gathered around him.
After Jeremy learned about Dorian’s affair, he moved on and began dating Ian. Shortly afterward Dorian’s name came out as a former associate of the underground social club Blithedale. Dorian turned his time with Blithedale into the novel Vagabond’s Ways, which was met by critical acclaim. The novel presented readers with the outre challenge of piecing together the history of an unconventional polygamous experience, far removed from social and political expectations. Despite detailing experiences outside of readers’ experiences Vagabond’s Ways’ popularity caught Tilael Publishing unprepared. Dorian’s success overshadowed Ian Jimenez’s painting career that to had sputtered due to political controversy. Eventually the stress of divergent career trajectories led to their break-up, which Dorian responded to by throwing himself into work at Ego’s Own. For the next two years Dorian curated a collection of autobio-graphic fiction by Huxia artists, which detailed the effects of the Genesis Revolution on them and their culture.
Pentapolis of the Valley thrust upward, a giant needle in the landscape seeming inspired by the ancient secrets of the Acadian Mountains to the east and west. Its buildings looked thrown together, chance addresses and materials amassed in one place and called a city; a shame that the city hadn’t been more planned out in its growth; there were some provisions for modernity. Several choice main roads that formed a grid across the city were paved over for car usage, the rest remained cobblestone; a monstrous ribcage across the city. The most drastic changes to architecture ended about a century and a half ago, back with the Great Depression’s onslaught.
It was originally founded in November 8, 1803, on a one-hundred-acre tract of land between the Anapos River and MacLir River, in the Acadian Mountains. The site was chosen because of three cataracts on the left half of the Anapos River, offering great potential for water power. As well they could utilize the Anapos and MacLir River, and built Wuthering Canal to connect the two rivers – preparing to build a shipping titan. In 1817, the Masonric brothers, of Masonric Corps., and other landowners joined with the Hundred Acre Tract to form the Hamlet of Gamoyra. Also in 1823, the Wuthering Canal between Anapos River and MacLir River was completed, and the North Exchange linking east to the Atlantic Ocean was opened. By 1830, Sidume population was 9,200 and in 1834, it was re-chartered as a city.
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