My Parents Became Cyberpunks and all they Left Me Was This Darker Future
With all these Mr Studds and sexy cyberbabes running around somebody in the darker future had to be having kids right?
Imagine being raised in an environment where sudden death is the norm, where drugs and weapons are cheap, where your parents sell their souls to do a dirty black op for corrupt corporate overlords, where people commonly cut of body parts and replace them with metal prosthetics. Would it make you bitter? hardened? Cynical?
Probably not, its an axiom that every generation rebels against its parents values. why should it be any different with the cybergeneration? If your parents were moneygrubbing corporate materialists you’ll chuck it and drop out of the rat race. If your elders trashed the environments then you’ll restore it – just to piss them off.
You’ll hang with your peers: goboys, gangboys yogangers; since your parents are either dead or out running the edge you’ve had to raise yourselves, you know how to use guns, knives and monos but you won’t have the Euro to buy them. When you do you refrain from using them, simply because you’ve seen too much killing already. You’ll settle your conflicts with kung fu, boots, fists and savage beatings instead. Cybertech? definite no no, your bodies are still growing, and anyway who wants to go and do exactly what your parents loved.
You’re not a buncha “tree huggers” but you don’t mind taking over a redwood forest from a megacorp if it’ll really get in their faces. You don’t know politically correct; you say what you mean and are brutal about it, because the adults in your life spend most of their time lying. You have your own style, and you show it; it’s an in-your-face, take-no-prisoners, nothing-to-lose way of living, where you don’t give ground nobody.
You also have something your parents didn’t: hope.
Mad because your grandparents can tell you about a time when there was air you could breathe, water you could drink. cities that weren’t ruled by megacorps and hired killers, and animals that weren’t in zoos.
You’re mad because you should have had all that. and some greedy corporate Dead Guys took your fraggin’ inheritance and blew it away like lint.
Then, one day, a disaster happens, another biotech spill in a world full of toxic emergencies. It washes over the City, killing, right and left until it gets to you and your goboys. It washes over you too, but when it passes, you stand up. and you look around, and you know you’ve been changed . Forever,
Because now, you have the Power. Power to tackle the Corps head on. They’re not even giving you a choice; they’re rounding you up in so-called “internment camps” and shooting you down like dogs. So you draw the line in the sand and war is declared. You and your goboys. Against the Corporations. Against your parents. Against the whole fraggin’ world. Manno a manno, to the death. To reclaim what they took from you.