5'7", Male Mudfoot.
White blonde, blue eyes.
2000 thrones.

Thats what the sign said. That's what all the signs said now adays. Two thousands thrones is a lot of money, especially on Earth. People everywhere were looking for this 'Harper'... he would have to be more careful.

He looked both ways before ripping down the sign, then continued on his path. The sign didn't say what he was being charged for, but he knew the list off by heart by now: escaping from two slave camps, taking valuables from one of the slave camps, stealing, causing havoc, selling illegal goods on the black market, selling legal goods on the black market, drug runner, domestic disturbance, murderer, kidnapping. There were a few more things, but he didn't want to think about it. The list was errored anyways.

He didn't so much as escape as he did run away. It wasn't his fault that they didn't have good guards. And taking valuable goods? It deffinately wasn't his fault that they stuck a neural interface on his neck. Hurt like hell too, and took a good hour out of his day to make sure that it was clean.

Stealing? Everyone stole stuff. If you didn't, you didn't survive. It was just another one of those 'unwritten laws of life'. Causing havoc is the same as being a domestic disturbance, at least he thought so, because the qualifications for either one were pretty much exactly the same, just different degrees of disturbances. Selling goods on the black market? That was just to make a living. It's also how he became a drug runner, but that job hadn't lasted too long.

Murderer? Well, he wouldn't put it exactly like that... it had been in his own self defence after all. And kidnapping? That's the elaborated word for saying that he let loose a bunch of slaves several dozen times.

Needless to say, the price on his head raised every couple of weeks.

He sighed, seeing another sign. A Nietzschean walked back, gun armed and ready, eyeing him with a sick grin. He was looking for a single excuse to whack him. He make sure not to give one, keeping his head low and his hood up, watching the ground silently as he walked by.

His feet were wet from walking in the gutter. Then again, everyone's feet were wet. Anyone who dared walk on the broken down sidewalks risked not only getting grabbed at the ankles by desperate and dying people hidden in the shadows, but getting in the way of a Nietzscheans like the one he had just past. His wet feet padding along, stepping carefully over the odd body or two.

He hated Earth.

"Shay!" someone called. He looked up quickly, causing skin to pull around his data port. Later, he would have to check to make sure he hadn't torn the sink tissure surrounding it. "Over here!" His dark eyes peered around him, until he noticed a boy, just a little older then him, waving from the shadows of a nearby ally. "Come on!"

He stayed rooted to the spot for a moment, looking this way and that for Nietzscheans or other patrollers, before crossing the street and slipping into darkness. He glared at the older boy, who grinned at him sheepishly.

"What?" he hissed. "Is there something wrong Brendan?" The boy, who towered over him at 5'11, shook his head, shaggy brown hair whipping into his calm eyes.

"Claire wants to see you again," Brendan said with a huge grin, pulling him along by the scruff of his worn and torn sweatshirt. He shrugged him off, and followed him at a slower pace, eyes shifting to and fro. "Come on Har-"

"Don't," he glared at Brendan. The taller boy cringed. "Call me that. Ever. Got it?"

"Right," Brendan forced a smile, and continued. "So... where are you going to take Claire tonight?"

"No where," he muttered, falling instep beside the brunnette. "She can go fuck herself for all I care."

"Shay," Brendan whined, stopping them both. The smaller boy glared up at him from under his hood, which Brendan removed to reveal dirty brownish hair falling into dark blue eyes. "I don't know why, but all the girls like-"

"They like the fact that I don't want them around," 'Shay' said, as if it were a simple riddle being asked. "They think I'm playing hard-to-get. Don't question me about it, I overheard a group of them talking."

"Right," Brendan chuckled. "But seriously, your the 'short, mysterious, and cute' guy they love for no apparent-"

"I just explained to you why," he glared at the brunnette even more.

"I said no APPARENT reason," Brendan pointed out. "Your reason still isn't apparent to me, and never will be bro. Anyways, they love you for no apparent reason what-so-ever, and having you around more often might make it easier for us all to get some chicks, lay back, and have a good time... deal?"

"You've told them that I know how to read, haven't you," Shay said, looking at him blankly. Brendan just grinned.

"Your the brains in the family," Brendan said cheerfully. "There's nothing to fear, because you are here... hey, that rhymed."

"Your a poet, and you didn't even know it," 'Shay' said dryly. "How many times must I tell you Brendan? I'm not a revolutionist. I do what I do because I can, not because I'm trying to change the world. Earth is doomed; haven't you gotten that through your head yet?"

"Cuz," Brendan said, grin never leaving his face. "Whether you do the revolution or not, it will happen, and all because you are a Hero in this day and age. It might not happen in our time, but some day soon, Earth shall be renewed to it's full glory. And it's all because you believed in yourself..."

"There's no such things as heros Brendan," 'Shay' said coldly. He started walking again. "Your what? Two years older then me? Five? How can you act like such a kid all this time? Grow up and smell the pollution! We've. Got. Nothing."

"Look at yourself Shay," Brendan said softly, his face solem. "You took nothing, and your fighting back with it. I don't care what you say, your a hero for that. One day, people are going to follow in your footsteps... they're not gods as they think they are. They are not unstoppable. We're just too scared to fight back..."

"Then you lead the revolution!" 'Shay' yelled at him. Brendan went quiet, and for the rest of the short walk, neither spoke. When they got to their destination, the tunnels, they both entered, and were immediately surrounded by people.

"Anything planned, Shay?" one little boy asked. He must of been nine years old...

"Yeah, anything we can help with Seamus?" an older boy asked. Still too young, but older then the last. 'Shay' shook his head and plowed his way through the throng of kids, all looking to help. Whenever he worked, he worked alone. It was a rule... don't get anyone close to him in trouble, or else he would regret it later.

Another rule of his: Don't get too close to anyone.

"Hey," a girl said as soon as he sat down. She drapped herself in his lap, and leaned to whisper in his ear, giving him a view down her low cut shirt. Like most Earthers, she was bony, malnourished, had dirty hair, and both her teeth and skin were a sickly shade of yellow. "Hows it going... Harper?"

Call him Shay, call him Seamus, hell, even call him Zelanzy and he won't get mad now a days. Call him Harper? He got pissed. Pissed and paranoid. Never a good combination.

He pushed the girl off of his lap roughly, looking around the room as he stood up. The girl sat there, at his feet, cursing at him, but he didn't listen. As soon as he saw Brendan, chatting up some swooning girl, his blood started to boil.

He marched up to his cousin, his own flesh and blood, and before anyone could blink an eye, punched him. The punch, unexpected, sent the elder teen to the ground. Time seem to slow down as Brendan touched his cheek gingerly, winched, and looked up at Seamus.

"What the fuck was that for!" He yelled.

"I told you NEVER to tell ANYONE who I was!" Seamus screamed at him. He didn't care who heard... it didn't really matter, Nietzscheans could be coming for him at any moment now. They could of been tracking him for a long time. "Do you wanna get me killed!! Do you wanna get everyone else here killed! They want my HEAD Brendan! They won't hesitate to take others as well!" With everyone looking at him, he turned and left. He hadn't even gotten a chance to get drunk...

God, he really hated Earth.