(click to enlarge)
STORYLINE: Lisa Liemawr held her phone up like a holy relic in a cathedral of rust.
“Welcome back, Dragonlets!” Her voice hit that perfect, chirpy register, the one that usually sold energy drinks and scandal. “It’s your girl Lisa, coming to you with the exclusive from…”
She dropped her voice to a haunted stage-whisper.
“…The Forbidden Zone.”
She fluttered "spooky fingers" at the lens.
The bold and brash Hexa Herald reporter checked her reflection in the black screen before the recording started. It was a disaster. Her bangs clung to her forehead in greasy, tragic ropes. Her eyeliner was a smudge of war paint.
“No glamour filters today. #NoMakeupChallenge: Hellscape Edition,” she said, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. "Today’s vlog is pre-recorded since Wi-Fi here is literally nonexistent, and my battery was raised from the dead via sketchy Monstrum Tech, thanks to our secret mole. #HumanSympathizer. Yay for having enough juice to record my last will and testament! Say hi to the fans, team!”
She whipped the phone around with influencer bravado.
The lens struggled to focus, grainy and grey. It swept across a row of rusted, modular housing units stacked like coffins under a flickering green sign: ATOMIC ESTATES.
Huddled in the long, jagged shadow of the structures were the captured students of Jae Won University. "The Avengers have assembled, folks." But they didn't look like heroes. They looked like refuse.
Ghost wasn’t looking at the camera. He was crouched against a corrugated wall, eyes scanning the laser perimeter like a caged wolf, his fingers tapping a silent, frantic rhythm against his thigh. Calculating.
“Check out the latest in post-apocalyptic streetwear,” Lisa narrated, zooming in on Kyra’s torn pants and the found scrap metal doubling as a prosthetic leg. “Derelicte. So hot right now.”
“Put the phone away, Lisa.”
Kyle Baek surged forward, his hand filling the frame. He didn't look like the sarcastic guard anymore; he looked haunted.
“We are in a concentration camp,” he growled, shoving the camera down. “People here look half-dead. Have some respect.”
Lisa gasped, pulling the phone back and feigning outrage. “It’s called a documentary, Kyle. If we die, I want my autopsy report to pull at least five hundred thousand views.” She turned the camera back on him, zooming in until his furious, dirt-streaked eyebrows filled the frame. “Tell us, Kyle, how does it feel knowing your little dare to Jihoon landed us in Monster Disneyland?”
Kyle flinched as if she’d slapped him. His eyes went wet, then hard. He didn't speak. He just smacked the phone out of her hand.
The camera spun wildly, ...sky, dirt, sky, capturing a blur of dense gray fog and the high-voltage shimmer of the fence. It landed with a thud, face-up.
Auto-focus adjusted. It locked onto what loomed above the camp.
Projected against the dark, smog-choked sky was a massive holographic poster. It showed Jihoon, no, Lathandro, clad in radiant white, luminous and holy, eyes downcast like a golden messiah forgiving their sins.
WELCOME HOME, LATHANDRO.
Lisa knelt to scoop up the phone, her hair brushing the lens. She paused, seeing the image on her screen. The bravado slipped, just for a second.
“That, my followers, is why we are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Nerdy nobody becomes Prince Charming of Monsters. Crazy, am I right?”
She aggressively wiped the lens on her sleeve. “Anyway, here’s the 411. We’re trapped in a radioactive 1950s sitcom running on sewer fumes and despair.”
She swung the camera toward Minjo. The robotics genius was sitting on a pile of scrap, grimly sharpening a stick against a rock.
“What do you think, Girl Genius? Are we glowing yet?”
Minjo stared at her as though Lisa were a misfiring toaster. “No. The radiation warnings are a deception to hide what's really powering The Zone.”
“Oooooh, conspiracy time. Whisper it to Lisa… and to my future Pulitzer committee.”
Minjo didn’t whisper. She lunged.
Thwack.
Her sharpened stick speared a mutant rat inches from Lisa’s boot. It screeched once, then went still. Minjo lifted the fresh kill by the tail, staring dead-eyed into the lens.
“I’m calling it the Entropy Engine,” Minjo said flatly.
“Right...” Lisa side-stepped her, as if Minjo was the first to go insane. “And speaking of despair...”
POOF.
Strawberry-scented smoke billowed around them, too sweet for the filth it drifted through.
“Whoa! Caught in 4K!” Lisa shouted, jumping back as Ghost instantly leveled his own sharpened stick at the pink haze.
The smoke cleared. Standing there, immaculate in a white suit that defied the grime of the camp, was Romance. He looked like he had just stepped off the stage at Inkigayo, smelling of crushed flowers and ozone.
“That, Dragonlets, is a bona fide Jeoseung Saja,” Lisa narrated, masking her relief. “Blink and you missed his career. Give it up for Saja Boy’s own DJ Romance!” She added fake cheering noises. “Tell us, how does a soul-sucking idol end up guarding Hell’s worst zip code?”
Romance covered the lens with a manicured hand. “Stop recording. You want to get us caught? The Children of Apophis have eyes everywhere.”
“No can do, my Maestro of Pink,” Lisa said, ducking under his arm with the agility of a paparazzo. “Lisa’s gotta scoop just as much as a fish’s gotta swim. If I don’t film, I get anxious. And when I get anxious, I cry. And when I cry, I get blotchy. Nobody wants that.”
He sighed. Then his gaze fell on Kyra.
“Kyra,” he said softly.
Lisa zoomed in tight.
The cheerleader was slumped against a crate. Her skin was a terrifying greyish-blue, and the neon veins in her neck flickered ominously. Her cybernetics whined with the brittle, dying-hard-drive sound of something begging for mercy.
“I’m... fine,” she wheezed. “Just... low power mode.”
“Liar,” Romance murmured.
He checked his surroundings, then reached into his pristine jacket. He pulled out a chip with the Monstrum logo on it. It buzzed with energy and smelled faintly of cotton candy.
He knelt, brushing a strand of dirty hair from her face. With the gentleness of a bomb disposal expert, he slotted the chip into the port behind her ear.
Kyra arched, light washing through her like a pink sunrise. Her optics flared, then stabilized. She gasped, color returning to her cheeks. “Better,” she breathed.
Romance smiled, that practiced, devastating idol smile that had once been plastered on bedroom walls.
Lisa whispered into the microphone. “#ForbiddenLove. One-hit wonder rocks the cradle with a cyborg. Leave your comments below.”
“I heard that,” Romance snapped, standing up. “She’s a college student. Shut your mouth.”
In the background, Ghost watched them, face emotionless. But the camera caught it: the precise moment his hand snaked out. While Romance was distracted defending Kyra’s honor, Ghost pickpocket the Idol and slid the ill-gotten gains into his wrist-mount with a surgeon’s stealth. His Halo-gloves, dead since the boundary, flickered. A tiny, pale blue light pulsed once.
Access.
Ghost hid his hands instantly. But he stiffened.
High above, on a rusting catwalk, a familiar figure stirred, black robes, amber eyes.
Hwan.
Ghost went statue still.
He locked eyes with the Guardian. Hwan had seen the theft. He had seen everything.
Romance was still fussing over Kyra, oblivious. Hwan could have shouted. He could have alerted the Nuns from hell.
Instead, the figure in the tower slowly turned his back.
Permission.
Ghost let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
Suddenly, a loudspeaker crackled. A cheerful, tinny jingle played, a distorted, minor-key version of Mr. Sandman played on a broken xylophone.
“Attention, Happy Residents! It is time for the Gratitude Feast! Please proceed to the trough for your daily calorie intake!”
“The trough. Great.” Lisa gagged. “Okay, Pinkie. What’s going on?”
“It’s a mandatory celebration,” Romance said grimly, looking up at the glowing poster of Lathandro. “Master Gin is happy his ‘son’ has returned. So everyone must celebrate too.”
“…Right.” Lisa clicked her tongue, forcing the smile back on. She slapped Plague on the back; he jumped a foot in the air. “Let’s go review the catering, Nerd Snack.”
Lisa followed the shuffling crowd to the center of the plaza. The "Feeder," a man with a scarred face and a butcher’s apron, was happily ladling grey sludge into cupped hands, humming a nursery rhyme.
“Look at them,” Plague whispered, nudging Lisa. “They’re eating it like it’s five-star dining.”
He was right. The residents were shoving the flavorless paste into their mouths with frantic, mindless hunger.
“Okay, Dragonlets. Today on ‘Dystopian Eats,’ we have...” She zoomed in on the grey, bubbling sludge being ladled out of a rusted oil drum. “...Protein paste? Porridge? It smells like wet dog and pennies.”
“Okay," Lisa whispered. "Taste test.”
She took a tiny, tentative sip of the grey soup.
“Oh god.” She coughed, squeezing her eyes shut. “It tastes like sadness. Zero stars. Would not recommend.”
She lowered the cup, wiping her mouth. As she did, the camera panned across the crowd, capturing something off.
She zoomed in on a man’s neck as he swallowed.
“Whoa,” she mumbled.
Glowing softly under the grime of his skin were rune tattoos. They pulsed in time with his heartbeat. *Thump-glow. Thump-glow.*
“Marked,” Plague whispered, shivering. “Like inventory. All of them have it.”
Lisa wandered away from the trough, looking for better content—anything to distract from the glowing necks. She found Echo near the drainage outflow, kneeling in the mud.
“Echo?” Lisa gasped, zooming in. “Doing some spring cleaning?”
The camera panned across a neatly hanging row of used tin cans and rocks arranged in a pleasing geometric shape. A garden of garbage.
But Echo was acting strange. Regressed. She was digging in the mud with frantic, childlike intensity.
“What did you get there? A hidden gem? The key to getting out?”
Echo froze. Slowly, she lifted something from the mud.
A teddy bear. Or, it used to be. It was soiled with clay, missing one eye, its fur matted. Next to it lay a small red ball, deflated with age.
Lisa felt the air leave her lungs. The snark died in her throat.
“Lisa?” Echo asked, holding the bear out gently. Her voice was small. “I think... I think I can fix him. I can replace the missing eye with my shirt button...”
“Stop,” Lisa whispered. Then, louder. “Stop right now.”
She stared at the bear. Then she looked toward the edge of the camp, where the drainage pipe poured dark, oily water into the fog. A river that flowed *out* from the city.
“Echo,” Lisa said, her voice shaking violently. “I need you to do me a favor. Find me a bottle. A plastic bottle. Airtight.”
Echo handed the dirty bear to Lisa and darted off.
Lisa held the bear up to the camera. Her hands were trembling.
She stared at the lens. The mask was gone. The influencer was gone. There was only a terrified girl holding a piece of evidence.
“I had one of these,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Back when I thought monsters weren’t real.”
She zoomed in on the missing eye.
“Okay, folks... Time to get real.”
Tears welled in her eyes, hot and angry. She didn't wipe them away.
“This belongs to a child. A child who probably chased that red ball across the barrier. A kid who never came home.”
“Lisa, please,” Plague appeared at her side, looking terrified. “Keep your voice down. Let’s not draw attention—”
She tore her arm away. “Keep it down? “You think I’m being too loud?” She slammed the ball into his chest. “Tell that to the parents still stapling ‘Missing’ posters to rain-warped bulletin boards. Tell them their babies aren’t lost! They’re here! They’re livestock!”
She wiped her nose with her sleeve—a messy, unglamorous motion
“I will not rest until the world knows about this disgusting place. #ParentsDeserveToKnow.”
She shoved the phone into Plague’s hands.
“Film every face you can find in this cursed place,” she commanded.
Suddenly, a low, heavy thrumming sound echoed from the main gates. The ground vibrated.
The eating stopped. The residents froze, eyes wide with a conditioned terror.
The rusted gates groaned open.
Through the fog rolled a procession of vehicles that belonged in a museum or a nightmare. Vintage Rolls Royces drifted through the fog like funeral carriages.
Figures stepped out — gowns shimmering like spilled oil, jewels blinking like predator eyes.
They crossed the filth with the bored amusement of aristocrats at a petting zoo.
Lisa stared, horrified. “What... what is happening?”
Romance stepped up beside her, his face grim.
“The Gratitude Feast,” he whispered, watching the elites take their seats around the stage. “The humans eat first to look plump for the buyers. And now...”
He gestured to the vampires raising their auction paddles.
“...Now the real feast begins.”
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you all enjoy this ambitious post, (7 characters all in one post. The "7 Dwarfs" together at last). There are lots of sweet post apocalyptic goodies from Salvage Station in this. (And if you look hard, you might even spot Jihoon "Snow White" making a cameo.) Gobble Gobble
On her, front row left to right, Lisa Liemawr (Happy):
Head, eyes, skin: LOGO - Dawn Desert Nomad [mesh]
Body: Meshbody - Legacy (f) Special Edition (Basic) 1.2 [mesh]
Group Pose: 10sai - Group Pose Stand #WEFIE
On her, Kyra (Sleepy):
Guest Appearance: Aarya Phantomhive, of the Dark Phantom blog.
Pants: AsteroidBox - Deteriorate Pants [mesh](Salvage Station)(289L)Jacket: CHANDRA - Hyperion Jacket Reborn FATPACK [mesh](Salvage Station)(275L)
Jaw: Evil Baby - Jaws - Accessory [mesh](Salvage Station)(349L)
Makeup: eyecing - Ieku - eyes - liner [mesh](Salvage Station)(30L)
Tattoo: Nefekalum - Salvaged Armor - Polished 02 // Full Tattoo [mesh](Salvage Station)(199L)
Tattoo: SOMEONE - Infected Wounds - Face, Body, Eye [mesh](Salvage Station)(550L)
Tattoo: Fallen Gods - Skychylde, female body +FGInc.+ Canary PG [mesh](Salvage Station)(gift)
Makeup: Stelio - Grungy Eyepaint - Black (EvoX) [mesh](Salvage Station)(gift)
Collar: Cruel - Sulfur Gorget - Legacy F
Hair: A&Y - Medusa Cyber hair 2, multicolor [mesh]
Hair: A&Y - Medusa Cyber hair 2, multicolor [mesh]
Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - lel EvoX LILLY 3.1 [mesh](3990L)
Body: Maitreya - Mesh Body Lara [mesh](2750L)
On her, Echo (Dopey):
Hair: Sintiklia - Lillith head 1 Fitted, colors ombres [mesh]
On her, front, Minjo (Doc):
Hair: NI.JU Tomtom Hair, naturals [mesh]
On him, back row left to right, Ghost (Bashful):
Scanner: Starlit Endeavor - Nomada Scanner, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(300L)
Cowl: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Coat: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Headband: Last Ride - 47 Samurai/Headband back [mesh]
Pants: REBIS - Werk Trousers [mesh](350L)
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)
On him, back middle, Plague (Sneezy):
Outfit: toksik - Invasion Top (Legacy M) (Black)
Cape: toksik - Invasion Cape M (Unrigged)
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]
Scar: Cubic Cherry - Decay [BOM, Materials]
Makeup: maledictus - Lacrimosa, red [BOM]
Hair: Dura U122 -A: Men's [mesh]
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)
On him, Kyle (Grumpy):
Sleeves: REBIS - Junkyard Sleeves . LegacyM, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Hair: TRASH - Lucifer w/o Horns V1 - Rainbow pack [mesh]
Eyes: Mana - Jelly Eyes, Clear [BOM] (Midnight Order)(399L)
Skin: MUDSKIN Hajimu, C, Brow, WINTER(gacha)(The Arcade)(75L)
Glasses: SOLE SA, Glasses Penta CP, Black [mesh](339L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)
Setting:
Neighborhood: LORE Atomic Estates Fatpack [mesh](Salvage Station)(1200L)
Bench: Dirty Rat - Derelict Bench [mesh](Salvage Station)(415L)
Cart: Dirty Rat - Derelict Cart [mesh](Salvage Station)(375L)
Billboard: Dirty Rat - Vintage Billboard w/o probe [mesh]
Dunes: Fundati - Beach Cliffs C1 [mesh]
BONUS IMAGES: character shots, inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.
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