Emerson looked out into the horizon, the concrete cities obscuring the river on the other side. He huffed out, scratching his stiff collar. What is this material made out of, steel? He cursed his overly extravagant father as he adjusted his glass helmet. Considering this is the 31st century and the only outfits here are made of glass, metal, or some fabric that could cut your neck, that's likely.
"Something the matter, sir?" Emerson tore his eyes away from the disappointing view to look at his butler. The mechanical servant whizzed quietly as it darted over to him, its artificial eyes darting around to look for a threat. "Your father has suggested you might not like looking at the poor, you are allowed to come inside." Emerson's eyes narrowed and he gritted his teeth at his his father's 'suggestion'.
"You fool, being in your presence is far worse than innocent people!" he snapped, whipping around. A few moments passed as he stubbornly looked over the balcony, ignoring the whirring behind him. A few cogs could be heard silently clicking behind him, and guilt rose up in his chest. Emerson reluctantly spun back around, a surly expression pulling at his face.
"I apologise sir, my fault for upsetting the son of a baron. I'll leave you alone." The butler said, hints of sadness lacing his electronic voice.
"No, come back." Emerson mumbled, shifting his feet. "Sorry Blaine, I'm just in a bad mood."
Blaine swiveled around, his screen displaying a more upbeat face. "I'm not programmed to cheer sir up, but perhaps we could go visit your friends?"
Emerson visibly brightened up, beaming at the robot as he nodded and sprinted back inside his house with a "Hurry up, you're a little slow for a robot", as Blaine sighed and trailed after him. Emerson scrambled up into teleporter, sprinting into his room as his footsteps thundered on the floor. He shoved a cereal bar into his mouth, practically inhaling it as he yanked off his glass helmet and tugged on another one with some steel covering. Emerson was chewing the remainders of the cereal bar as he yanked a hoverboard from his wall when his father stepped out of the teleporter in his fancy-pants royal meeting suit, clearing his throat.
"Where are you going, son?" he queried monotonously, his voice a little strained. Emerson licked his lips and looked up at his father wearily as he buckled his shoes.
"Out."
His father, looked to the side, twiddling his thumbs as if he wanted to say something. He glanced at Emerson's outside clothing, then his eyes traveled to his son's hoverboard.
"I have a meeting with the king soon, don't get yourself into trouble." he mused, moving back towards the teleporter. "And I'm sorry, Emerson." Emerson's eyes widened at the last statement, but his father had already vanished. He stared stiffly where his father was once standing, his hoverboard subconsciously sliding out of his grip.
Then he shook his head, his shaggy black hair falling over his eyes as he dismissed the situation. He darted out to meet Blaine again, and shot out onto the balcony. Blaine once more followed behind Emerson, as he hurled his hoverboard into the air and leapt onto it, bobbing in the air. He shot an impish grin at Blaine, who seemed to be regularly involved in his master's shenanigans. A pair of propellers entered out of Blaine's steel skull, twirling around as Blaine's wheel folded into his body. The pair whizzed off into the city together, fading into the dense smoke as Emerson's exuberant whoops echoed into the distance.
Emerson waved the smoke away from his eyes. Lord, the city really is doing worse every day. He thought, his eyes wandering around as he observed the unfamiliar area. He and Blaine had passed the thriving, streamlined buildings where the rich lived in contentment and had just entered the worse off areas-rather, the majority of the population. People swarmed the streets like ants around a tasty morsel of food, with barely enough room to even stretch one's arms out. The grey smoke that typically billowed out from every corner of the Earth was extra dense, but there was plenty of sound suffocating the area that a local could easily find their way around. The streets were filled with chatter and the yelling of shop owners and beggars, while bells tinkled around on little carts and the wailing of hungry children pierced Emerson's ears. He had heard the streets were once white, but the mass of dirty, suffering people obliterated any view of it and the pavement was littered with piling trash and filth. The smell was as appalling as Emerson imagined the sight to be-human or animal waste, along with rotting food and some smells he had never even smelled before. Emerson shut the flap on his glass helmet, his nostrils rejoicing as oxygen from the helmet poured into the glass bubble. He squinted, craning his neck out as he tried to see the buildings in the area. The buildings were surely not sleek and streamlined. He could make out the graffiti on the walls and the tattered rags that were likely the curtains, along with chunks of the walls missing and even a whole roof demolished, the rubble still there.
Emerson could see children pouring out and gaping him through the windows (more like the holes in the wall). "Posh kid!" A voice rang out faintly, the owner of the voice jumping out and down. Emerson looked the other way, his cheeks burning as he regretted showing up in such a dramatic fashion.
"We're here," Blaine declared, his wheel folding out as he landed gently on the ground. Emerson clambered off of his hoverboard, ducking into the alleyway. The bustle of the city streets grew more tranquil as he scurried into the alleyway, jumping a little when he already saw all his friends bunched together.
"And here's Emerson, the star of the show." A girl snapped, her voice slightly muffled through her medical mask. Emerson rolled his eyes, but elation flowed through his body to see his friends. He bounded over towards them, embracing them tightly. "Shush Elaine, hoverboarding is pretty much the only way I can get to see you guys."
"Not the only way, I'm sure." A tall, freckled boy mused as he his chin bumped against Emerson's helmet. "His darling daddy could surely order a magic carpet?" Emerson smiled gently as he pulled away from the hug, almost as if he could see his friend's smirk even if half of his face was concealed behind a mask.
"Come on guys, he doesn't even like me that much," Emerson whined. "We got into a fight about my plans for this area. But too bad, they're already almost in motion."
The group rolled their eyes at his first statement, but hearing what he had said after, their faces burst into firey anticipation. Even Emerson's tall, sarcastic friend was lost for words as he stared aghast at the boy currently full of obstinacy.
"We're changing this city for the better!"