d9 . zane

You're known as something of a loose canon. Built from your ready acceptance of any job thrown your way. It didn't matter if it was thievery, assassination or looking pretty. You could do them all- would do them all if the right amount of coin was thrown your way. And you had were good at this job, reckless and capable of pulling off manoeuvres that no one else could. People were flocking to you, demanding your service and you were relishing in the attention, money and desire.

Boy had that been a mistake.

It turns out that killing and stealing was a good way to create some pretty powerful enemies. It didn’t take long for the ghosts of your past to start haunting you. Your name was plastered on wanted boards by Peacekeeper’s, but within the darkness of the slums of district one bounties were planted on your head.

There was pride that came along with the feeling of being wanted. Your brother’s names faded slightly, falling into the background as yours shine brightly. Could they catch you? Nah you were too goo-

Clunk. The cuffs on your wrists were uncomfortable and cold.

You wished they had of lubed it up a little, given you some wiggle room to get your thick muscular wrists out of them. Honestly, it was your own fault. You’d decided to go drinking in the busiest and most popular pub in all of district one. You’d chosen to get blackout drunk and start stripping on the bar counter. Why? You ask. Because a cute blonde has given you a smile. She had to know what she was getting herself into, she had to see the good hot body she was going to have that night.

Well, you’d hoped she was going to witness it. It’s not the first time you’d been wrong.

The Peacekeeper’s boot finds your ass, shoving you into the juvie’s prison carriage on the train. You stumbled a few steps, butt wiggling in the breeze. The stench hit you soon after, the smell of urine, blood and feaces mingling in with the scent of desperation. You breathed deeply, turning to face the Peacekeeper as he moved to close the door.

“Ahhhh,” you let the air out, billowing into a foggy cloud in front of you. “The delightful smell of a new start.” You hoped it was a little less disgusting in nine. One was definitely the better and superior district for gold, jewels and powerful people to murder. You'd heard rumours of nine teeming with savage and terrifying gangs, so your hopes were rising incrementally. Maybe there'd be a nice gun for you to use, a savage gang leader you could kill.

No, no, no, you can’t think like that. A new start, Zane, you remind yourself. No point in making the entire district hate you within the first few weeks. But pride was a baron's fool and you knew that your mighty ego was going to want to have your name whispered throughout the harrowing alleys of your new home. It was inevitable, in the end, you’re power, strength and charm were going to make waves that would stretch through till the tippy top point of the district.

Leaning against the door you eye the Peacekeeper, eyebrow raised. “You know, between you and me, I’d have let you peg me if you’d have asked.” Maybe after a drink or twenty.

The man visibly bristles, and you take a few steps backward as he yells at you, “hope you die in nine you piece of shit.” You give him a little wave, blow him a kiss with a tantalising wink as the door slams shut in front of your face.

Searching around the cart you scrap your boot against the metal, shoving aside the dirt and mess that stains the floor. For a moment you think maybe you’ll sit, but a gentle waft later you’re sure that’s a terrible idea. You might smell like the underside of a dog’s ass by the time you get there, but at least you won’t be wearing it.

Part of you is relieved that it was the Peacekeeper’s dragging you through the mud, shoving you away. Your brothers would be livid that you’d been caught, but you know that they’d chalk it up to you being a reckless fool. You’re sure word of your antics had already reached their ears, after all, Baron and Captain were no fools, not like you.

Maybe one day they’ll came save you like a damsel in distress. You just wish you’d been able to see them over the past year to make sure they were okay.