Steelport: Not A City of Saints (Saints Row: The Third)
Life in Steelport isn’t really living, and it doesn’t last long. Between the incompetent cops, the trigger happy gangbangers, and the turf wars between these overfunded gangs, you can’t walk the streets without getting shot, hit by a car, mugged, or used as a human shield. How do the civilians of Steelport cope – what is there to live for?
The gangs don’t give a damn about human life, and don’t care who gets caught in the crossfire of their damn wars. Hell, sometimes they drive a freaking tank through downtown, blowing up anything and anyone who gets in their way just to try to slow down the other gangs’ operations. God help you if you’re driving past a Third Street Saint when you need a car – if you’re lucky, you’ll only get mugged. If you’re luckier, they’ll end your time in this hellhole. Gunfights start at the drop of a hat – all it takes is one gangbanger taunting another and a fight breaks out. If a cop is nearby, they’ll try to “help,” but the help involves more gunfire. So many civilians lose their lives because the cops are terrible shots – but who cares? As long as people are there to sell the guns, to drive the cars, and to be the suckers that get robbed and beaten, the gangs are happy.
What kind of life is it? Constant fear that you’ll be walking down a street and someone decides that it’s funny to drive on the sidewalk. Bang – it’s all over. And yet, the civilians are still there. Some even seem happy. Take, for example, a woman. She’s standing on the corner of a street just… dancing. She dances! People are shooting, cars are screeching around corners, and she dances.
Perhaps she dances because it’s what she wants to do, and life here is too short not to be ruled by impulses. Perhaps she dances because she is happy to be alive, and she knows not how long that will last. All I know is that here, in this hellhole of a city where life expectancy is about 35, there’s a woman dancing on a street corner.
Dance on, lady. Dance on.