"It has been said that humanities’ mortality is the root cause for its creation of art. I am the embodiment of contradiction for that theory."
They are two sides of the same coin-either one will kill you, they’ll just think about it differently.
A perfect anarchist who was mutilated for his beliefs, but survived his torture and has created his ultimate dream. Now he presses on, crippled, but propelled by faith in a better world for all.
The city was cursed many years ago. Since then it has not stopped raining. The gutters are inhabited by eels and the doors are on the first floor, coated with pitch. On a bad day, you can see the water level rise above the ground floor windows. Carts have both wheels and bladders filled with air to keep them afloat. And yet everyone is surprisingly dry.