Regardless, I'm quite enjoying writing this character's descent into a fearful existence that forces her from her home by being outcast from her own society thanks to Bailes fucking Maina and his gospel. (The idea for the campaign, by the way, was the advent of Steampunk wherein much of society is fearful of the new technology, and I have pretty free reign on my character's backstory, so a drug-addicted lesbian punk tinker who rides a motorized skateboard was inevitably going to happen.)
If you're interested in more about the character, check out the story Punk Tinker that takes place before this story, but tells a very different aspect of her story than Nettles does. (This is the social, that one is the technical with most of the set-up.) Hope you enjoy whatever you read, and have yourself a lovely day! See you Friday for more.
Nettles by Mac Clevinger, May 9, 2017
Natalie, affectionally called Nettles by those dear to her, rubbed a tuft of acidic-green and maroon dyed hair between her fingers, biting her lip in growing worry as she paced the aisles. On either side of her sat long rows of waist-high crates, their contents, or lack thereof, a troubling site for the girl. In her mind, she saw the store as it had been months ago, brimming with the tools of her trade, but now the last haven for her ilk had been turned against them, and quicker scavengers than her had emptied it out.
She eyed the man leaning against the counter by the door, trying not to make her spying as obvious as his own was. She could feel his eyes, the once-harmless eyes that had rolled with mirth when she gave him years of patronage for increasingly complex projects that now bled suspicion, that saw the color she’d been painted by the people she’d thought were… not her friends, but hers as much as she was theirs.
She looked down at the clothes she wore: strategically torn black and purple striped leggings beneath a black mini-skirt; heavy, dark boots with glinting metal clasps; a black shirt emblazoned with a purple and white skull that she’d once been proud of making. She’d never really blended with most people, but that had never been a problem before Bailes fucking Maina opened his fucking mouth.