An Anon's Journey: Remnant Act 1

V3E1: A Day at the Fair

Money had always come easily to He Called Hope. Some would go as far as to say that making money was in his blood, he would probably disagree but acquiesce that his paternal family has been bankers and accountants for many generations up until his great-grandfather. Even still, the smell of money was something that brought a flutter to his heart.

Especially if it was other people's money.

Hope whistled chipperly as he counted the total cash count he scored off of the dozen or so Lien cards he acquired. A wide, evil grin exposed his greed.

"I mean, It made sense when you crunched the numbers!"

An evil chortle exited his lung before a violent coughing fit took him out of it. He held his fist in front of his mouth as his lung threatened to escape out of him through his mouth. He cleared his throat with a painful whine as he inspected his hand.

"... Well, at least there isn't blood this time."

He looked around the fair, his wheelchair-bound frame surrounded by the black silhouettes of the people of Remnant. Many were just your run-of-the-mill, casually dressed fun seekers. Some wore lighter clothing as they hung from their lover's arms. He also noticed a few too many police officers around. They weren't causing trouble or anything, but it was weird that there were so many.

I'll have to ask Glynda about this. There shouldn't be this many cops for one festival, even if it is an international event...

Tents, kiosks and attractions littered the area for what felt like miles. In the distant background, the floating Amity Arena loomed. Its sheer size was enough to impress Hope, let alone the fact that the fucking thing was floating in the air. Its history alone was fascinating. An ancient arena that was repurposed as a neutral ground during the Great War. The treaty that ended the war was signed there and named in honour of the hallowed grounds they stood on, any and all rivalries and conflicts would be settled on the battlegrounds where countless warriors fought and died in. Rebuilt with (at the time) the latest tech, the now floating fortress was a symbol of peace. In a funny twist of fate, an arena had become a place where nations settled their differences and instead of sending the common folk to die, only the best and brightest warriors were sent to represent their home...

So peace through regulated violence and competition...

Anon found the idea so Remnish it warmed his heart.

At least you fuckers haven't known war on the scale that my world has achieved. Thank Heaven.

Not much else caught his attention, other than a few fair games. He stopped in front of a shooting game. Pay for a clip of BBs, hit the centre target three times and win a big prize. The prizes ranged from bags of candies to big plushies the size of a man's chest.  He smiled as he saw a childish silhouette struggle at the game. Maybe the BB gun was too heavy for them, hence why they kept missing. But the shadow's struggle wasn't the entertaining part.

It was the other shade right next to it, clinging meekly to the small of their shirt.

He let out an amused exhalation through his nose at the sight of childish affection. It reminded him of an easier time when he and his sister would go to the New London Carnival and play games and eat disgustingly unhealthy but delicious food...

"Those were the days..."

He wheeled close to the childish shade holding the gun and looked from the sideline. He watched as the silhouette missed yet again. It let out a sad sigh, having shot the last of its chances. Its shoulders slumped in self-disappointment as the other shade looked down, sad that they didn't win. Hope smiled, feeling generous.