Broadside Report: The Real District One

Lost Coast Chanties · 2026-09-19T14:10:16+0100

** posted on oldworldblues.net by saintly%matters **

They say that district one is a lawless hellhole that doesn't deserve saving.

It was just yesterday that the empty streets began to feel the sound-waves a cheerful broadcast. The presenter, in the usual "unbiased" tone of voice you'd see from a news host, told the whole city that we were responsible, all of us, for these terrible "riots" and "attacks," and that the Railroad and the silence of the Administration was a sensible response to the perceived "threat of unrest" from District One.

I wonder where he got that from?

Make no mistake, this place isn't paradise. When the Administration exiled hundreds of new residents to us, we had little to no food or water to accommodate them. The District was already in shambles when they stepped out of the station -- trash was lining the streets, what little rooms the local apartments had were filled with refuse, alien growths took over much of the underground and often reared their ugly head through the ground.

But you know what's funny? That little broadcast made me take a look around the place. And what did I see? Cleaned streets, ample room for living, repaired water pumps, an organized ration center -- the little clinic on the main street even set up donations for the impoverished few that had nothing to live off. We've beaten back the alien fauna that claimed one of the warehouses. We have a governor and even ministers, all of whom came from the very populace that they now serve. Can you believe that we even had free elections, where anyone, including cops, could apply?

Well, *they* don't know. They don't want to know. To them we're just the black sheep of the city -- even after we gave them all of our resources as a *tithe*. Three whole crates filled with materials... and they can't even spare us a single glance.

They need their villain. They need to justify their laziness, their incompetence, their apathy. They need to wash their hands off their failure. They need to forget there ever was a place called "District One."

Well, they can certainly try.

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Nice gathering, right? No doubt someone from the other districts would think a great riot is about to happen. That's what "the Pit" is known for, right?

Well, unfortunately for them, this isn't a riot. In fact, we prefer to use the common term "gathering." There are plenty of these throughout the streets, formed for conversation and the gathering of news. Sometimes, great things come from them: friendships, ideas, charity, and etc.

This one was formed right after the broadcast that I described earlier. I wish I could say the spirits were high, but that'd be a lie. In truth, all of these people were scared, and can you blame them? Nobody was coming to save us. Once more, we have been abandoned to the whims of fate.

But I won't pretend like we were surprised. We have had to deal with multiple threats over the past month, and throughout it all, support from the outside has been minimal. Governor Milada Drsna was one of the few people that truly cared for this place, and thanks to him, we've managed to achieve many great things. Peace was brokered, gangs pacified with diplomacy, enemies of the law were quelled.

Isn't it telling that the only man who had sought to help us wasn't even from the city proper? A UN diplomat, far removed from the history of these streets, cared more for them than those who claim to have our interests in mind.

It was in this street crowd that I spied the visage of one Minister Ethan Foster, the leading figure behind all of our industrial endeavors. Our conversations were one of the few things I've been looking forward to every day, and so, I decided to try and get his perspective on the state of District One.

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"Alright, so, let's start simple... What was your first week in District One like, when all the arrivals came in?"

MINISTER FOSTER: "Well, suppose a rough jist? It was chaotic. I was here before the folks came in, and we had it pretty decent. When folks arrived, they were clearly a bit.. Well, uneasy from the transportation. Most folks needed guidance, and eventually it did come.

MINISTER FOSTER: "A lot of them came by the garage to barter with us, and that first day? Hoooh boy. Junk galore."

"Sounds like you had your work cut out for you"

MINISTER FOSTER: "We told them what we could about the place, what to do to survive, and how to live through it all."

At this point, the interview was suddenly interrupted by an Officer of Precinct Satellite

OFFICER: "Foster! Give me one second, Minister."
OFFICER: *Starts muttering something in a third world language*

MINISTER FOSTER: "I'm gonna be completely honest with you. I did not understand a lick of what you said."

OFFICER: "I asked if you could fix my uniform. My armor is in disrepair."

MINISTER FOSTER: "Oh, that's what you said? I think I've got my sewing kit somewhere."

We proceeded to walk to the Salvage Company Warehouse for repairs, as I wanted to see a bit of what no doubt constituted the Minister's daily routine

*** ATTACHED IMAGE FILE: 1618151005032021.jpg ***

MINISTER FOSTER: "If I'd wager, probably just some standard wear and tear, normally absence of a vest. I've knit mine up hundreds of times before, made clothes too."

OFFICER: "Can you fix my mask while you're at it?"

MINISTER FOSTER: *Takes the offered vest and mask, taking a good look at them at his work bench*

MINISTER FOSTER: "Hmph... Gonna have to change some stuff... I didn't think the padding was this f****ed up. Nothing too bad though."

MINISTER FOSTER: "Your mask ain't too damaged, but I'll work with what I can."

As the Minister started to repair the equipment of the Officer, I looked around the warehouse. Only two weeks ago, it was completely consumed by alien fauna -- a gigantic tree-like growth that penetrated the very streets with its roots. But now, the warehouse was fully cleared out. The only thing left behind from the previous occupants was a pile of rubble where the trunk used to be nestled.

Eventually, the repairs were finished, and the Officer was sent on their way. Unfortunately, Minister Foster followed after, as he was called in for administrative duties. And so, our little interview was cut short, but fortunately for me, there were plenty of other people who were willing to offer their perspective on the District.

Right next to the warehouse exit, I've managed to secure an interview with a recent arrival to the District

"So, your name?"

KIM: "It's Kim."

"So, Kim, how long have you lived here?"

KIM: "To be completely honest now, I've only been here a week and a half. I'm originally from District Five."

"When you first came here, did you have any ideas about what this place was? Any expectations? They must've told you where you were heading on the train station, right?"

KIM: "I was sort of hoping it to be good balance... And, no, they just said 'Your skills are needed to assist the district'."

"What would you say was the hardest part on living in here so far?"

KIM: "The stability of the District's economy, rations, and employment. Which is the same as in all the districts that are gone to crap."

"Was it hard to live day to day? Or was it somewhat bearable?"

KIM: "It's hard. Like downtrodden difficult."

"Was there anything that made it a little easier? Maybe some people in particular?"

KIM: "Strangers that turned to be friends, few friends to close besties."

"Would you like to name them?"

KIM: "Best I keep it confidential for now. I respect their privacy."

"Last question. Were it not for the announcement today, do you think this place could've had any hope?"

KIM: "If employment were to pick up the pace, then maybe. However right now, pretty sure we are all struggling here. Even keeping the peace is a struggle."

"I see. Thank you for your time"

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