[i]2130, November 30th. It's been over a century since anyone of our family line has stepped into mainstream society. From what I gather, it's because of my great grandparents need to not conform. To not be slaves to the things we created. To flourish. Sounds like a lonely idea, and it kinda is. The people we see that's not used to our ways often call us risters. It's slang used to describe people who have "disconnected" from society. Thinking they're doing something different, or something new. That's the lonely part: It does feel as if you are disconnected. As if you're being shunned. Others like us are few and far between. There used to be more, but it seems they blended in with everyone else. I'm just here hoping to see the city for my own eyes...I hope I don't become li-[/i] Snap. The tip of the pencil cracked, sending miniature wood chips into the tainted near black soil below. Sparsely covered with browning grass, and noticeable plastic substitutes. The substitutes shined back at him with their slight glare that came from the murky sunshine. "I need a new pencil..." Said the boy, wiping the sweat from his head with his gloved hand, before tugging at his caramel khakis, and dusting off his sky blue shirt. "My grandmother told me it used to be much colder...guess it seems warmer then what I expected." He closed his journal, it's cover writhing of age. It was dirty brown, with the pages barely hanging onto the spine as he slipped it into his dark green bag. "I can write more when I get there...the city is only a few more paces north...Nepago." Underneath the dim late autumn light, Nepago surely shown like a diamond among the rough, a rough which was nothing but open, fading land which gave way steadily to the metropolitan horror. It's saddening to some, yet impressive to others. The way the city was shaped in the fleeting distance, it seemed almost like a snow globe, the buildings smooth and made to represent shapes of the odder variety. As he edged closer to Nepago, he was met with various oddities of varies intensities that he was no accustomed to. A retched smell that was akin to that of human waste, a heat that would rival the mighty sun's, and a dazzling light that could blind a God itself. Yet, the boy pushed on, until arriving into the city moments later, allowing the sensory it gave off to consume him, from the musty air, to the abnormal heat, and more people he has seen in his lifetime. All seemingly packed. He waeved his way through a small corner...it was night now, not that it mattered, as the lights only shown brighter in an array of dazzling colors. Railways through the rooftops, that led to the unknown underground, from supposed land vehicles that never actually touched the land. It was all...strange. And strange enough, he was surrounded by many others, but none like him. They all seemed faceless, only moving from an unknown A, to an unknown B. As if he was alone, yet not alone. Alone amongst others.