The Mercenaries’ Tale – 1.04 Undercit
-Sean.
The area beneath the plates was now known unofficially as ‘Undercit’, derived from the literal term ‘under city’. The name and the town itself was unsanctioned by the City of Light for the simple yet unusual ruling by the city’s government that anything below 200ft of the City of Light’s lowest foundation plate was not recognised as being part of the city, with small exceptions given to the vast public transportation lifts for purposes of security. Even the City of Light’s neighbours didn’t recognise Undercit as a geographical entity. Salmanic Inc’s official stance, being the main influence over the government, was that contrary to evidence Undercit didn’t exist; after all, you need somewhere to keep the lower echelons of society, and it’s even better if you can keep them out of the picture when painting the city as a picturesque haven.
This oversight in governmental ruling meant Undercit had the freedom to not only grow into a den of lawless vice, but was allowed to bloat into a subculture of its own. It was rife with the slightly murky deeds and habits of crime, including booze, drugs, sex, casual violence, rape, vandalism, thievery, grift, public nudity, general disregard for safety and, due to the lack of enforced closing times at the bars and the minimum of plumbing and sanitation in Undercit, frequent 1urination in public.
From an architectural and town planning standpoint, Undercit was awe-inspiring. If the City of Light was the pinnacle of design-by-committee, then Undercit was its inversed sibling. There was a controlled chaos to the streets and alleyways. Shacks made of corrugated tin leaned against elderly brick buildings that had long outlived the point where building officials would have condemned them. Wooden market stalls elbowed against each other for room and, as their owners worked at night while their competitors slept, often moved around to different spots over the course of a week. Doors occupied the space between housing that would barely constitute as a narrow alleyway, let alone a liveable habitat. The streets elevated around the pipes, turning into rows of shacks separated by stairs and ladders constructed of wood, iron and steel. Every structure had a character of its own, having been handcrafted with effort from whatever the builder could lay their hands on.
The atmosphere wasn’t one of desolate oppression, either. Despite Undercit’s mournful past of unprivileged migrants, the new criminal boom had reinvigorated the town. Punks roamed the streets looking for a good time. Hookers plied their trade, displaying their assets without the need to worry about concepts like ‘public decency’. Biker gangs camped around open bonfire barrels swapping stories and admiring the latest hoverbike purchases. Somewhere, a Militaristic Mime of the Church of the Combustible2 demonstrated their anti-sound cannon against the side of a wall to the appreciation of a gang of street urchins. A particularly vocal seller of ‘long pig’ pushed his freezer cart along the streets, trundling over the arm of a corpse that had previously been feeling fine about five minutes before, when it hadn’t been stabbed in the chest and robbed of its wallet.
Despite the down-and-outs, murderers, rapists and criminals, Undercit had a jolly atmosphere to it and was quite the place to be. Presuming that you were a down-and-out, murderer, rapist or criminal, anyway.
Post by Sean Patrick Payne | October 13, 2013 at 9:14 pm | The Mercenaries' Tale | No comment
Tags: The City of Light, Undercit