LadyAthene
Supernova
- Joined
- May 12, 2015
- Location
- West Coast, USA
Anyone who had resided in the Satellite would have known the simple but brutal truth. It had never really been a place where much of anything 'good' ever happened. Yet it was also fair to say that it had never been in such a state like it currently was. This truly was the worst, something that had seemed impossible to imagine. An already poor section of town now overrun by two types of people, three technically, though some fell under more than one category.
There were the duelists, the gangs, and anyone who belonged with Sector Security.
Anyone with enough common sense could figure how the alignments usually went; most individuals were duelists and gangsters. However, with the power in Sector growing faster than it had in years, the fear and intimidation was beginning to influence a good number of people.
For some, it got to the point where they were betraying their own friends, comrades, allies - whatever one wished to call them - and going so far as to turning them in.
It was these events and many more that helped inspire another young duelist, yet one that was far different than many others the Satellite had ever seen and not yet gotten to know properly.
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It was, to put it in a kind way, disgusting. Not just the city, but what it had become. It was hard to call the Satellite any sort of residence, which was sad given it was the home of many duelists. Lower-class in wealth, yes, but it wasn't like the Tops or any of its residents would even dare try to help them out.The thought made seventeen-year-old Yuna scoff and roll her eyes.
Yet to everyone else, she went not by her real name, but Yukio.
There had been a very subtle yet dangerous undertone which revealed a rather misogynistic attitude towards women. She had detected that much even at a very young age, long before she hit her preteen years.
Much like many of the people in Satellite, Yuna's own life had taken a few, sudden turns.
However, she had no regrets with the new - if not unexpected - alterations. In fact, she embraced them, perhaps quicker than most would.
Two years ago, after barely getting away from Sector herself, Yuna decided enough was enough. Literally and metaphorically, she put her foot down. What was the point in being a duelist if even that was a crime?
Originally, she considered giving up and going back to her 'home', or what she used to call that.
Instead, the idea to create a discreet, fourth division entered her head. An owner of the first and now most successful sanctuary. A place where anyone - so long as they didn't work for or aid out Sector - could come and hide out. They could stay for only one night or a week, however long they needed to stay out of Sector's radar.
It was one of the best ways for Yuna to get back at Sector whilst simultaneously avoiding any direct confrontations with them.
... Not that she couldn't hold her own in a duel. Still, if they called for back-up and outnumbered her ... yeah. She understood how badly it could get in a matter of seconds.
Upon creating her haven, effectively named Yomi which meant underground - Hell specifically, Yuna also changed herself. Not completely, but enough to keep up a more masculine guise. Her hair was left at its normal length. She'd seen her fair share of men with longer than shoulder length locks, so it was easy enough to lie about.
The main thing that switched, therefore, was her name and voice. Yuna had been blessed - or cursed, depending on one's point of view - to be relatively flat in the chest area. Bandaging them up and appearing as if she had nothing at all as opposed to the Bs she truly possessed was one of the simplest tasks she'd self-taught herself to this day. Still, she kept them bound as a precaution.
Not to say this didn't hurt. But after doing this for a few years, one managed to get accustomed to the sensations and not let the pain bother them as bad as it may have in the beginning.
Before running away, she had been raised in a household with more men than women. Add in the fact she had lived on her own in the streets of Satellite and it had made the task of sounding as if she had been born a male that much easier.
Thus, the 'birth' of Yukio had emerged with that of Yomi.
Of course, there was a reason she was able to succeed in any of her operations. Not quite 'friends', per se, but definitely allies. Some of the first people who had found her and her hideout, to be precise. They had come to an agreement about one thing; the creation of Yomi was a smart and beneficial thought. But, even Yuna had to confess their fears had been right; without aid in any form or fashion, it would be found out about.
And, when push came to shove, it would be as quickly ruined as it had been built. That would be but the tip of the iceberg, too. Then there were all the thoughts involving her and the first trip to the Facility.
Her head quickly shook as she bit her lip to stifle a frustrated growl.
"No! Don't! You've come too fucking far. Don't bother dwelling on that shit."
Tilting her head back and guiding it against the wall behind her, Yuna elicited a low sigh as she briefly closed her eyes.
Alas, the reprieve was short-lived. To be fair, it almost always was. Still, it didn't change what occurred next. Hajime, whom was effectively Yukio's right-hand man, and one of the few people who constantly stayed in the base 24/7, walked inside.
"Got a report?" Yuna inquired, immediately shifting to her male counterpart as she opened her mouth and spoke. Upon seeing an affirmative nod, she merely gave Hajime one of her own. "Go on then."
"Our help should be on their way to give the weekly supplies."
"Good. And Sector? Have things been getting steadily better?"
"Very gradually but yes."
"It's a start," Yuna muttered, mulling over the thought before nodding again. "Very well. Let anyone who's still here know food should arrive soon enough. They know the drill; failing to help out will lead to them not getting anything. We all need to do our part, after all. I'll be down shortly."
Yuna subconsciously held her breath, only sighing again after Hajime left. "Appreciate the loyalty," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, "but ... ugh. He'll be the death of me."
Taking a moment to quickly change out of her outfit from yesterday and change into a new pair of ripped jeans and a camo shirt, and combat boots, Yuna descended down the small flight of stairs that led to the living room, more or less.
Each face that came into view was greeted with little more than a polite nod or wave, sometimes both. Yet, she didn't stop, knowing they already knew the situation. Instead, Yuna continued to walk, finally halting when she was a few paces away from the front doors.
Crossing her arms over her bandaged chest, she leaned against the wall and patiently waited. They were usually on time; Yuna wasn't honestly worried about that. But she'd decided upon making herself Yukio that if she was going to look like a male, she may as well play the part. So, she took up the role of a nonchalant leader, one who was very capable of having quite the tempers when the right buttons were pushed. Before then, though, she otherwise appeared to be a calm and collected young man who had been smart enough to find and make use of this abandoned warehouse.
That was the gist of what people viewed her as; nothing more, but certainly nothing less.
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