I This is a role play blog for my independent ORIGINAL CHARACTER based on both Danger Days and the comics of The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys by Gerard Way, Shaun Simon and Becky Cloonan. The story surrounding my character's life does not belong to me.
II The portrayal will be performed to my own accord, meaning that Jimmy will not be made to act in your favor but in a manner that is appropriate for his character.
Replies will be published only when I feel they succeed to express certain aspects, and therefore might take a while until release.
Jimmy's character and story may evolve as I write him and as certain events occur.
III I like to label this blog as selective, but who I write with depends solely on whether I can see our muses interact or not. And while grammar does also play part in this, it remains minor. I understand that english is not everyone's first language. Neither is it mine.
IV Romantic relationships are in no way a primarily goal of this blog. And as Jimmy happens to be demisexual, those that do occur will need time and development to become more relavent to my muse.
Unrequited love is welcome and platonic relationships are HIGHLY VALUED.
Mun and muse are both 21+ but smut will not take place due to own preference.
VI Hate will NOT be tolerated on this blog. Any hateful messages will be DELETED IMMEDIATELY and the senders blocked, as will those that send hate to other people!
VII If you have any more questions please do direct them to me. Mutuals are also very welcome to ask for Skype.
May 21st 1998 was the day a family would find their love again in the blue eyes of a newborn child. It was the day a mother and a father would embrace a new life, and with it the bliss rekindled by the world's wonder. It was in Riverside, California that they would raise the baby boy into a life that ought to be a fortunate one.
But time could outgrow anything.
A baby's blue hues would take on a deep brown like they were meant to, and parental love became conditional when there were other things to be worried about. Seasons changed, years would pass like weeks when times soared. And not too long until Jimmy would be pushed onto the path that even generations before him had walked.
School wasn't optional, and neither was life. That was the first lesson learned when the six year old kid sat at the lunch table, alone and troubled from the fights at home. Teachers would argue that there were any exceptions to be made. Learning before fixing. But sometimes fixing comes too late.
A year later the Sato family fell apart, a divorce due and forever in debt of a little boy's childhood.
He lived with his mother from the on, every other weekend spent with a father who had lost himself. From then on it was always silent. But sometimes quiet is violent. A few years ahead James figured to drown out the lack that caused this pain, the sound of trouble replacing a stillness where once was a family's love. Grades kept tumbling down. Teachers hounding an exhausted mother about how they were perplexed by the situation. "He used to be such a smart boy." And he still was, yet the interest in classes ceased with that in school. He refused a 'perfect' life when it simply was not.
The young teenager had learned his second lesson: Life was full of lies.
It's the age of fourteen that he joined the Junior High, day after day just pushing through worksheets. His true interests laid in art though. Unconstrained and expressive to the core, in so many forms and colors and sounds. And the love to art was shared by the boy's best friend.
Love attracted love, yet it wasn't meant to last. Change was coming.
Events would occur just as various scientists and activists had predicted: The world was coming to a slow and creeping end, holes in the ozone layers widening relentlessly. People wouldn't listen. They have always been too stubborn, too vain and proud to admit that the world needed a change. Eventually, one would step on another's toes. And they would kick back with force, provoking conflict until a big one'd break out. Sometimes those toes belonged to someone important, too.
Waging wars always paid off for capitalist countries anyway.
You could view it as a chain reaction. Like dominoes falling, one thing lead to another and, what was later dubbed the Analog Wars caused the destruction you would expect. Warhead production and that of other products would cause more gasses that would rise to the methane skies. There was no going back. A forward was all there ever was.
With others' downfall a initially small Japanese business would flourish into what has later become known as Better Living Industries, a corporation that unveiled their great project: Battery City. As one of the last inhabitable places in California, the masses felt compelled to take this dazzling opportunity. Though, salvation and damnation were two sides of the same coin.
It was a mother's only option, too. Leading her son to safety was Eva Sato's last will and she was determined to reach this goal. And as the way was made all the way to the gates of Battery city, a way carved through the now Californian wasteland, a huge toll had to be taken. A mother had to be willing for sacrifice after all.
The family, once behind the electric city's safe gates, was assigned lower middle class. Almost according to their previous status as upper middle. This however, turned out to be fatal. The new currency was vital to anyone's well being as supplies and medical care was still scarce to find. And with Eva's diagnosis to terminal cancer and the lacking financial aids, Jimmy was left to wait for his mother's death. It ended up among the first recorded cases of Zone Sickness.
Ms. Sato did not live to see her 18 year old son graduate from one of two high schools of Battery City.
The city's capitalist government BL industries grew over the years, as did the population in- and outside the endlessly high walls. Jimmy was among the ones who noticed the restrictions that had come with assured safety, knew the catch behind sets of rules that were promised to ensure absolute security. The concept was perfect. And yet a dystopian fantasy.
No one had the power nor the will to resist Better Living. The consequences would be too harsh, too fatal. Rebellion had lost its worth like the individuality. Creative minds were ceasing to exist in a place where all sort of light was artificial. Likewise was the happiness: Daily messages from speakers informing about the perfect life, perfect weather and perfect day or night. It made him sick. But helpless alike.
Everyone was counting days in a world of black and white.
Though, washed up in neon light, one could meet another. A girl by the name Caelan came to be the boy's only lasting friend. Through shared laughter and tears, and the weight on their back that was meant to break them down. And while Cael was strong, Jimmy was not. Hadn't been in so long, that maybe he forgot how to be.
Behind a best friend's back he would reach for advertised tablets, a rush of wild euphoria was the bliss only found in plastic bottles and the pills between his teeth. And from occasional doses an addiction would develop. And all at once he had lost himself, blinded, with foggy eyes and the filth in his guts. And when the streetlights went out, with the Ritalin Rats, a boy was not himself anymore, but the guilt that made him feel the pills he ate.
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