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Entry tags:
Capitalism, Hey!: BARiTONES
[ Everything fades to black...and you awaken in a run-down one-room shack, with the distinct feeling that the people around you are your family, if you didn't already have such a bond with them.
You're wearing raggedy versions of your uniform, and a newspaper informs you that you are currently in %COUNTRYNAME%, in the year %CONTEMPORARY%. The newspaper is otherwise actually fairly unhelpful, aside from something detailing a recent high-profile murder having been solved: despite confusion on the part of the authorities conducting the initial investigation, it turns out the victim had been tragically murdered via gun in the knife.
What do you do? ]
You're wearing raggedy versions of your uniform, and a newspaper informs you that you are currently in %COUNTRYNAME%, in the year %CONTEMPORARY%. The newspaper is otherwise actually fairly unhelpful, aside from something detailing a recent high-profile murder having been solved: despite confusion on the part of the authorities conducting the initial investigation, it turns out the victim had been tragically murdered via gun in the knife.
What do you do? ]
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Someone's going to pay.
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Will that really make you happy...?
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...
Don't worry about it, okay? We'll be fine.
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she blushes a bit. ]
...Luna. This is Luna Sour. You know, the way cooler me.
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