Hey everyone!

I'm The Lord of All Chaos. That's also my name so if you want to check out my work there then your welcome to. I spend quite a bit of my time writing fanfcition and making the ocasional (and more often than not bad) fan art.

It's my dream to become an author one day. Speaking of which, I wonder what you guys think of this new idea I've had. Don't know what to call it so far. Maybe you guys have an idea?

The city centre was thick with noise. The sounds of people walking, talking and doing their shopping. The sounds of people doing everyday things. Everyone seemed happy and contented. Yet there was the tension. The palpable feeling unrest and fear caused by the overbearing presence of the Custodians.

The tall men and women, dressed in the same uniform of black body armour and helmets with tinted visors. A selection of knives was visible on each Custodian, a pair of pistols holstered at the hips.

Had it not been for the information that I needed so desperately I wouldn’t even be in the city. The Custodians in the city seemed to be slacker than those out in the wastelands but even so I didn’t really want to see how fast they could draw from their armoury. If any of them realized who I was…

I shuddered and dipped my head a little lower. From under my hood I could see everything in the little café. My informant hadn’t shown up. He was late. Being in the city put me on edge but being as exposed as I was, alone, I was a basket case. I kept jumping every time I saw a Custodian. Every time one looked in my direction I had to stop myself from diving underneath the table.

I took another sip of coffee. I shuddered at the full flavour of the bitter drink, suddenly wishing I had asked for milk. Still it was better than the others drinks I had been forced to survive off of in the wasteland.


The surprised whisper nearly caused me to fall straight out my chair. I looked up in shock, wondering who it was who had spoken my name.

“What are you doing here?” hissed Ryan. “You’re still wanted here. You’ve got a bounty that could pay for the Majesty’s Palace still stuck on your head.”

I smiled weakly. “I know that Ryan. I wouldn’t be here though if I didn’t have to be. And anyway I’m on edge as it is without you sneaking up on me.”

“You should be on edge,” Ryan said sitting down. “The Custodian’s may have given up chance of catching you but there are plenty of rats around the city that’ll gladly turn you in for the money.”

“At the moment, I don’t care,” I muttered. “I need what I came here for.”

I took another sip of my coffee and shudder at the taste. After so long out in the wastelands the flavour of such a brew is almost overpowering.

What do you think?

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