Capitlistic Wretches

Many things have changed since the last time I saw fit to record my thoughts. The escape was a success, largely due to my new abilities; good thing too, because I never stood a chance against Formel. Formel... the delicate instrument used by the Founders to carefully coerce the putrid city into the shape they wish. You might wonder how one might force an avalanche of excrement into place with a hammer but you would be mistaken. Formel is no hammer but an instrument of precision, a razor knife that cuts through the filth and lets it explode on either side as he steps through towards the centre. Oh, I hate that man. Well, now that I'm not the one using him.
 
I have made some friends, if you can count resentful, small minded, questioning simpletons as friends. Like fish in a bowl they gaze out, wide eyed and unintelligent, their mouths moving up and down. No amount of teaching from any ordinary teacher could cause those mouths to close. Luckily, I am no ordinary Professor, even among those from the Academy. And these people are my ticket forward, the... allies I need to fulfil my own goals. For I see them now, my friend. I see the path forward, crippled as it may be. I smell a revolution; the first time it's been plausible. I will admit, perhaps, I did not see it before because I did not live among the filth but now I am it is as obvious as the corruption of the Founders. This city holds thousands of bombs, tick tick ticking towards their factory jobs, each slight, real and imagined, shortening the fuse about their heads. But misdirected violence is as helpful to myself as it is to the wives they unleash it upon. No, someone needs to control them, direct them, unleash them. That won't be me.
 
My companions present interesting opportunities when examined more closely.
 
First, there is Eva Lowstock (a last name chosen as some form of irony but clearly demonstrates her reliance upon the current system to establish her identity. Pathetic). She owns some children, makes them run errands for her. I think she finds herself charming but her abrasive attitude and naviety in politics is as good as a metal cap to any flame she might possess. I am wise enough to realise my charisma is naught; she needs to be trained and tailored so her slight abilities may be transformed into something more convenient. She possesses a lapdog, called Leanne, who has already tried to square up to me. I will be interested for when she meets Rupert. She is dear to Eva, however, and there is no need to cause any further aggression. We are on the same team after all.
 
Then there is Harry. His manner speaks to previous experience with the aristocracy; I tried to teach him how to walk, quite literally, and he almost spat in my face. He possesses a streak of ruthless ambition, yet unlike Eva's, his is actually backed by demonstrable skill. The boy is a gifted thief, capable of feats one would call superhuman. He does not the possess the (potential) silver tongue of the girl, but actions speaker louder than words. He is small minded though, obsessed with personal fulfilment and the creation of a 'legend'. I despair sometimes.
 
For now we are trying to amass power; to do so we must ingratiate ourselves in the creaking gears of this wretched society, among the whores and jackabouts who throw their own bodies into the capitilistic gears to be grinded and rendered mulp, for even the trickle of reward from the Memphist actors who have held our liberty hostage. I have a great deal of work ahead of myself.
 
My inventions however, never fail to wonder, though Harry and Eva do their best to dismiss them. Small minds equal smaller praise, one finds, incapable as they are of grasping the true implications of something's worth. Elise will see Harry to success, however, and Maggie for Eva. This Sykes, but a bloody speck across the white shirt of society, is a pain for Eva, but Maggie will see to his demise. Once she grows up, of course, and she is allowed the opportunity. I long to be rid of this place; if I am to battle with a crime boss, at least let it be one of mild significance.