Chapter Text
With Taylor securely on Anastasia's back, the group moves north-east through the city, heading towards the Boardwalk. Evelyn and Bree stay close by, eyes scanning their surroundings for any potential threats.
They pass by a few average-looking individuals, their faces a mix of curious glances and indifference as they go about their daily routines. The sight of Anastasia carrying Taylor draws some attention, but none linger for too long—city folks are used to seeing odd pairs and unusual happenings in a city like Brockton Bay, especially in more rundown areas like the docks.
In one alley as they walk past dilapidated buildings and over cracked walkways, a couple of homeless people huddle together, warming their hands over a small fire, bickering back and forth between each other about one thing or another . They barely give the group a second glance as they walk past the mouth of the alley, preoccupied amongst themselves and whatever it is they're discussing fervently.
As they cross a street a little while later, they come across a mix teenagers and adults that radiate an aura of menace as they talk amongst themselves in a different language, members of the ABB judging by their red and green attire along with the occasional poorly concealed weapon. One of them gives the group a side-eye, his expression suspicious but non-confrontational before looking back at one of the men speaking with him. The gangsters murmur among themselves as they pass by without incident as they continue towards the Boardwalk.
A couple streets down past their encounter with the ABB gangsters Anastasia shifts Taylor gently to ensure she's comfortable before opening her mouth and speaking, "What's your opinion of Brockton Bay, Taylor?" she asks, keeping her tone light amidst the serious surroundings making sure no one is within earshot of the group.
Taylor swallows hard, her voice a little shaky as she begins to respond. "I think Brockton Bay's in a pretty terrible state," she admits sullenly. "There are so many run-down buildings and signs of neglect. Everywhere you look, there's something broken or falling apart."
Bree chimes in, her eyes moving over the run-down buildings and the occasional graffiti marking gang territories. "I mean, seeing it in this state must be difficult to see everyday when you know there are other places that are a lot better off than this, right? Has it always been this way?"
Taylor shakes her head slightly, adjusting her grip around Anastasia's neck and pressing closer to her back. "No, it wasn't always this bad. My parents used to talk about how things were somewhat better back in their day. They said that back when Marquis was around, he was a force that could keep other gangs like the Empire Eighty-Eight in check. Things weren't perfect, but there was some sort of balance due to how strictly he followed his code of conduct type thing."
Evelyn, ever the pragmatist, adds as they turn a corner to the next street getting closer to their destination slowly, "You must have noticed the presence of gangs. How do you feel about them? Their influence seems quite pervasive in some areas."
"It's awful," Taylor replies firmly. "There are three major gangs now—the ABB, Empire Eighty-Eight, and the Merchants along with just general criminals and people who have turned to crime to survive. It's unsafe to be out alone, especially for someone like me, being a girl and as young as I am, I would basically be an easy gift wrapped prize to some of them. I feel fear just walking around my own neighborhood since it's quite close to where the ABB operate mostly and they apparently deal in sexual slavery and prostitution." She pauses, taking a breath as if bracing herself. "The gangs have ruined so many lives. My family… we're just one of many affected by everything they've done either directly or indirectly."
Their small talk continued for a small while longer as they navigate the streets before eventually trailing off into silence, passing more abandoned warehouses and buildings noticing the watchful glances from dubious figures lurking in alleys or the windows of some places. They maintain their pace, not bothering to find trouble with anyone as long as they steer clear of the group.
The transition from the rundown streets to the more maintained area near the Boardwalk is subtle at first. Cracked sidewalks give way to smoother pavement, and the oppressive, dilapidated buildings start to thin out, replaced by more cared-for structures. The air even smells cleaner, less tinged with the stench of decay and more with the salty breeze from the ocean.
People become a more common sight as their group approaches the entrance to the Boardwalk. Well-dressed tourists and families stroll along, shopping bags in hand, and teenagers laugh as they jostle one another playfully. Street vendors hawk their goods with shouts, and the atmosphere brims with a sense of safety and normalcy that contrasts sharply with the areas they had left behind.
The entrance to the Boardwalk comes into view, a wide archway decorated with lights and colorful banners welcoming visitors to one of Brockton Bay's few remaining pristine areas. The bustling activity here stands in stark contrast to the emptiness and desolation of the previous streets you navigated.
Anastasia maintains a careful hold on Taylor, her eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for any potential threats, making note of the occasional armed enforcers that stays on the fringes of the crowds in groups of two to three. Bree walks alongside, her movements fluid and alert despite the casual pace they're maintaining. Evelyn brings up the rear, her sharp blue eyes watching everything and everyone with an intensity that never wavers.
"Alright," Anastasia says, pausing for a moment as they reach the entrance. "Let's find a store where we can get Taylor something to eat and then we can discuss a little more about what we'll need to purchase along with clothing for her."
