The inside window of the record store was layered in a thin patina of dust that filtered the soft autumn afternoon light. Cobwebs gathered in the corners with cracked and peeling paint. A scratched and faded plastic open sign dangled from a short chain. The shop owner, Niba, was on a third wave ska punk kick weirdly, and an early Less Than Jake album was coming through the crackling speakers, drifting through the confines of the one room store, non-ironically.
Dave looked up from the bins of vinyl, pausing the soft hiss of languid flipping through old sleeves. He sighed internally. What was the point of this shit anyway? He had every Mission UK record that was worth listening to and he knew it. He couldn’t see his reflection clearly in the window, just an outline. But he knew if it was a mirror what he would see, if he looked too close.
A receding hairline. Crow’s feet splintering off around his eyelids. Hollow cheeks from a lifetime of clove cigarettes. It all looked so much more sexy after dark, in a club made up of small rooms, bathed in the glow of red bulbs.
Where had the time gone? There was a moment, if he closed his eyes and thought about it, when all of this had connected him to something. It had made him feel excited, and energetic, and new. But all of that felt so far away now.
He began to flip through records again. Maybe he would find it in here.
Sometimes it fucking sucks living in Southern California.
TV makes it look so fucking cool, all sunsets at the Santa Monica Pier, palm tree lined drives and beautiful people in high school. But that reality only works if you are one of THEM. It doesn’t count if you’re fucking Dark.
When you’re Dark the sun makes you feel like you are under a magnifying glass. It tears apart the carefully manicured paleness of your skin. It heats the polyester straps and the metal of the buckles and makes you sweat under your cyber locks.
And when everything is sun bleached and beautiful, when everything looks like the remnants of a movie set or a beach town, how are you supposed to feel like a fucking rivethead? Even Andrew Eldritch danced in a goddamn rain soaked factory, and what is less rivet than the Sisters of Mercy? If only there were some goddamn factories around here. If only there was like, a graveyard with above ground mausoleums. But no, not in this world. This was the world their parent’s shitty choices. And that means if there was going to be Dark, they were going to have to bring it.
The cybergoths skipped down the sidewalk in parade past the dingy record store. They danced over the cracks in the aging concrete, the broken beer bottles in the gutters and the discarded heroin needles. Cameron had back up-batteries. Britni had her older brother’s old, giant boom box from the 90s she found in the garage. Sydney brought the latest Hocico CD from the Metro online store. They were headed to the only place that looked as Dark as they felt on this sweltering So-Cal afternoon: the Bridge.
The shadow of the Bridge created a purple velvet shade at the bottom of the dried out canal bed. Weeds poked up through the cracks in the concrete and metal stained with rust scattered the periphery. Graffiti loomed. GATS, SATE, a handful of throw ups and roller tags and the ubiquitous anarchy symbol. Crust punks talked and laughed amongst each other as they goofed around, drank hot beer out of tall boys and scratched behind the ears of the dogs, tied up on the ends of long ropes.
Sid stood up and stretched, sitting on concrete all day was hurting his ass and back.
The mixture of too much beer and heat exhaustion took its toll and he wobbled. Squinting in the sun, Day-Glo pink and purple and toxic waste green caught his eye, a polychromatic processional into the depths of the canal bed. The fucking cyber goths were back with their giant goddamn ghetto blaster. It was already pumping out obnoxious 4:4 bass as the three cybers rolled up on the half of the bridge that Sid and the crusts weren’t using.
This shit wasn’t gonna work. Sid had told them, 100 times if he had told them once.
“Take that fuckin’ broken marionette dancing the fuck out of here.” He said.
He couldn’t deal with this shit, not today. Goths were already insufferable with their goddamn tawdry, lower class nobility affectation, but cybergoths? And their fucking Terror EBM? That shit was absolutely THE. FUCKING. WORST.
“This isn’t going to happen,” he said, “Not today.”
The cybergoths looked back and forth at each other. He couldn’t see their eyes, not really, they were wearing dopey Marilyn Manson contacts. And their mouths betrayed nothing, they were covered by phony gas masks adorned with biohazard symbols.
“Sid.” he heard his name called, somewhere behind him.
He wheeled around feeling his buzz pulling at his temples. Dave stood there, at the edge of the canal, with that condescending old guy smirk.
“Why don’t you and your scabs move along and let the children of the night dance?” He walked forward, his arms open, palms up, like he had watched ‘The Crow’ 1000 times too many.
Sid took a swig, the final remains of the slush at the bottom of his tall boy. All hot froth and backwash. He threw the empty can to the side as he wiped his mouth with the back of his arm.
It was fuckin’ on.
(Short story by Brendan Carrion)
In our first Kickstarter we had all the miniatures sculpted and asked for your help to get them molded. This campaign is similar. We have the miniatures sculpted we just need your help to get them molded, cast and the cards printed. We're also doing something different this time around -- there wont be any add ons or pledge manager. It is going to be quick and we will get these in your hands as fast as we can. Your $25 pledge includes shipping to anywhere in the world. All non US backers will be shipped from our partners at Corehammer in the UK.
(Sculpts by Lee Jae Chi. Paint jobs by Michael Klieman)
Three cybergoths to boost your gang. You get all three and their stat card for use in Wild In The Streets. The models are supplied unpainted and with round bases.
Risks and challenges
This is our fourth Kickstarter. The minis are sculpted and the card image is complete. We are confident we can get these into your hands.Learn about accountability on Kickstarter
- (10 days)