“Why aren’t the police more involved?”
“What are the Heroes doing about the thefts in my street?”
“Why weren’t the fires brought under control sooner?”
I wonder how many people actually talk like this so openly? We quietly drive along and although it’s approaching midday on a sunny morning, the light about us becomes darker as we approach the burrow of ModeDeville or as its better known, the Dirge.
Despite the brightening blue sky, it’s the buildings here that darken the air around us.
“Well at least we are in the right type of car,” grumbles Corbin.
“How do you mean?” I ask.
Under his breath Corbin replies, “If we were in anything newer it would have been stolen from us by now.”
Despite the dig at my car Corbin is right. The alleyways are littered with garbage with the occasional
