Zayir's Questionnaire

I live in the shitty part of town. That's all you need to know. You know - the type of place that's got rats everywhere, gunshots ringing out at odd hours of the night, graffiti on every wall. Kinda place where drugs are cheaper than food.

And still I'm barely able to make rent. Isn't that funny?

I live there because I can't afford to live anywhere else. And what's even funnier is that there's talk of some richer types moving into this part of town, turning it into another one of those cushy gated communities. Fuck 'em. I'd fire gunshots into the air myself to keep the rent prices down if not for that poor old lady who lives next door.

Man, I don't wanna spend my retirement living in a place like this - but maybe this new gig can fix that.

.. Can I get a pass for this one? I'd prefer not to say. And I'm sure certain people would prefer not to know. But if I must answer - I do jobs sometimes. Little things, like delivering packages. But that's.. that's not the most important part. The most important part is that no matter what I'm asked to do, I don't get clever. I don't mouth off. I don't ask any questions. I do the job, I do it well, and I get paid. End of story.

Speaking of not mouthing off and not asking any questions.. I think you could learn something about that, yeah?

My ambition? Heh, man.. It's stupid, but I know there's something I've got that no one else has. I don't know what it is, but I know I'm better than all of those shmucks getting their brains blown out on the backstreets, or those poor sons of bitches breaking their backs over at K Corp for nothing more than peanuts. It sounds childish, but I'm destined for greater things.

I want to do something that nobody else can. Something that nobody on this godforsaken plain could even dream of doing. I already know I'm better than all of these sheep - but I've got to prove it with cold, hard evidence.

That a good enough answer for you?

Am I gonna get in trouble for this? I don't know who's listening to me right now.

Ah, what the hell. I guess the most defining event of my life would have to be when my old man died. I swear, it was like Christmas morning. Hahahah - I know that sounds fucked up, I know, but you gotta understand, he had it coming. I remember when I was a kid I'd pray every night for him to kick it, and so when it finally happened - I'm not a religious person, but when I heard the gunshot go off I kind of understood how they must've felt when their prayers were finally answered, you know?

And boy, did it change me. I couldn't be happier.

Eh.. it's depressing, honestly, and I'm not saying that in the feel-bad-for-me sense, I'm saying that in the it's-not-worth-yapping-about sense. Shithead junkie for a dad, spineless wimp for a mom - didn't even have the guts to take her own kid with her when she finally jumped ship. I did go to school for a while, actually, and I was pretty good at it. I've always been one of the sharper knives in the drawer - too bad dad was too busy beating us up and mom was too busy letting him to notice, much less be proud of it.

And no, I didn't fit in. How could I, when I was wearing the same unwashed clothes as the day before, when I was always asking to borrow food and pencils and school supplies from my classmates 'cause no-one would give them to me at home?

If I had to describe my childhood, I'd say miserable. But don't worry, there's a happy ending: it all got better after dear old dad died!

The short answer is no, I don't think I've ever been in love, and I don't think I ever will.

The long answer is that I just don't think that I was made to love and be loved. I know the ins and outs of it - you hug, you kiss, you fuck, you say 'I love you', you buy each other flowers. I've heard people describe the feeling of it, like floating on a cloud and being so unimaginably giddy, and trust me, that's not something I could ever in a million years see myself doing.

Besides, let's not forget the fact that I'm not exactly a good catch. There's a reason I don't go near this sort of thing, and it's better for everyone that it stay that way.

My worst fear?

I guess it's just - not having control, not even the slightest bit. Being at the full mercy of god knows who with god knows what motives and just not being able to do a single damn thing to force things to go my way. It's my way or the highway, god damn it!

I wasn't made to be controlled, I'm more than that dumb cowering kid who couldn't do anything but shrink away from papa's belt, I'm not that kid! You know who I am? I'm the one who shot that junkie shithead right between the eyes, grinning like it was Christmas morning! I'm one of the best damn fighters the Shi Fixers have ever seen. I'm the closest thing to God this world's got, I deserve the world in the palm of my damn hand. I bow to no one. I submit to no one. I take no orders. I'm the one on top. I don't listen to anyone and I don't give a fuck!

(panting)

Shit.. shit.. fuck. Got carried away. Almost lost it there.. almost.. whew.. I'm good. I'm fine. I'm a god. I'm the best. I'm not afraid of anything, damn it. I.. yeah.

The thing about being poor is that you don't really have much in the way of prized possessions. But there's one thing I'll treasure to the day I fuckin' die. My Beretta 92FS. She's a beaut, but that on its own isn't why I love her so much - that's the gun I killed dear ol' Dad with. As with most things, I've got Aunt Eva to thank. That pistol was hers at first, but she figured if I knew my way around it so much I could just have it.

Over the years, I've built up better stuff in my arsenal, but I hear it's a common thing to get attached to your very first, so at least I'm not weird for that, huh? Not that I'd care if I was.

I feel like I talk too much about my dad. Isn't there some kinda psychological thingamajig or whatever associated with that?

Right now? My problem is simple. It's whatever's going on at this damn facility. Listen, I'm not the kinda guy who asks questions, because asking questions and stickin' your nose where it don't belong is how you get dragged into problems and get way over your head. My problem is what's right in front of me at any given time, and that's that. Honestly, if people just kept to their own damn business, they'd have a lot less problems in life.

I told someone today that I don't get paid to ask questions, but that no-name punk I'm working with said we live to ask questions. Well, news flash. We live to do a lot of things, but not all of those things are wise or safe. It's the people who can control those impulses that go far in life, and I'm one of 'em - at least when it comes to this.

I know it's dumb, but the thing that takes up the most time in my morning routine is fixing my fuckin' hair. I know it's way too long, but I don't think I'll ever cut it short. Besides, I think the only time I feel really, actually calm is when I'm just - in front of the mirror, brushing it all out. It's a nice break from the rest of my fucked up shitty stupid life. Maybe there's something to this self-care bullshit that people seem to be peddling these days?

But yeah. I get up, I eat breakfast, have some coffee and a cigarette, get dressed and then I brush my hair for like an hour. It's not practical at all, but it's mine, damn it, and that's reason enough. Honestly, it's a good thing Aunty hammered it into me that I gotta take care of it if I wanna keep it, because it'd be a frizzy mess if I didn't.

There are people who clean up real nice for these kinds of big events and look all nice and prettied up, and I'm just not one of them. But if I'd have to, I'd say.. do my hair all nice and neat, put it up in one of those big fancy blown-out braids with curls and pearls and all that jazz. I'd wear a nice suit, too. I know that sounds kinda fucking stupid considering I'm stuffed into a suit and tie day in and day out, but there's a difference between uniform suits and properly nice ones for these kinds of events. Honestly, doing my hair would probably take the longest. I'd probably have to go to a salon because I don't have a blowdryer at home and besides I haven't got the patience to blowdry all my hair on my own, so I may as well pay the hairdressers to take care of it for me. Honestly, those chicks at the salon have probably been there for me more than Aunt Eva has sometimes. (That's a joke.)

My next birthday is gonna be how I always spend my birthday: wake up late and sleep early, get a big ol' keratin treatment, smoke half a pack of cigs, and eat a half dozen cupcakes. Then, of course, the day after, puke it all up and drag myself to work again. I know that's depressing, but hey, that's life. At least Aunt Eva takes me out to dinner the night after - we've done it ever since I was 20. I've never really been one for tradition but I think it's one of the only things I'll hold to no matter what. I don't really like the thought of getting older. Well, it means I'll die sooner, so that might be something to look forward to..?

That's... huh.

I don't.. that's a hard question, actually. I'm not the kind of guy who lives with regrets. There's no use getting lost in what-ifs, because it just ends up sucking you in and distracting you from getting up and getting on with it. But with that said.. since a what-if is basically what this question is asking, I guess it'd have to be not killing dear ol' Dad sooner. I don't even know if it really counts as a regret, since if I did kill Dad sooner I wouldn't have met Aunty and I can't imagine my life without her, but.. Ugh, I'm just really not that great with hypotheticals. I know killing Dad sooner would've saved me a whole lot of grief, I guess. I just.. up until I met Aunty I really didn't have much of a backbone, even when I did have the chance to get one over on him. It's a total mindfuck, really.

This question's kind of a mess. I dunno. I'm just not the kind of person who thinks about this stuff.

I'm just that good, what can I say?

No, I'm kidding. Well, only partly kidding - I really am just this good. I guess it's just the fact that now I'm risking my life left, right, and center I gotta try even harder to stay on my feet and really, I dunno, push myself to the limits. If it weren't for Aunty looking after me and making sure I knew how to hold my own in a fight, I'd already be dead fuckin' meat, so I owe that to her. I owe everything to her. That's another reason I'm trying so hard. I gotta make her proud, gotta prove to her that everything she did for me wasn't wasted.

I guess if you want a more fantastical answer, I'd have to say a big part of it is also that sweet gun I got from Frei. I know they tell us not to get attached to the Abnos, and I know it's probably gonna come back to bite me if I overdo it, but I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't fond of that guy. Maybe I just want what I can't have, heh.