So, you want to hear a story, eh? How about one where the children of the Vault Hunters struggle with the weight of their parents' legacies? One where the spawn of heroes have to find their own glory in a post-war Pandora? Ha! Don't think that it's a happy place just because the wars are over. This planet is a shrine to danger and death. It's no place for a hero, but heroes are made here anyway.
The black marble wall shone like a tinted mirror in the bright sun of Pandora. Standing proudly amidst the tall buildings of Sanctuary, its etchings gave thanks to the many live lost during both the Atlas Wars and the Hyperion Wars, as the two events leading up to the release of the Destroyer and the Warrior are now known. At the bottom of the obelisk, surrounded by two etched wings, was the only name on the monument that also had an epithet coupled with it:
-The Guardian Angel-
Who had only known a life of servitude found freedom in death.
She guided the war's heroes and gave her life for the citizens of Pandora.
When re-telling the stories of the Wars, the Vault Hunters always credited their guardian Angel and her sacrifice for their cause. They let the people of Sanctuary and beyond celebrate her, while they, especially the Sirens, mourned her cruel life and the necessity of her death.
Angel had heard the stories of her namesake countless times in her nineteen years. She had been given the name because of her mother's desire to honor the lost Siren sister. As if some cosmic force approved of this decision, she herself had been born a Siren. She tore her green eyes away from her namesake's epithet, which she often came to stare at, and glanced the pale blue tattoos that laced her left arm. Her mother, also gifted with such power, called it both a blessing and a curse. It had certainly been a curse for the first Angel, the guardian Angel.
Angel's twin brother had also been named after a lost hero- but his name wasn't on the obelisk. Instead, his figure cut a heroic pose in the Hero's Statue that stood in the center of Sanctuary-Roland the soldier, who had founded Sanctuary's military force and orchestrated her safety during the five years between the Wars. He had been killed right after the guardian Angel. His loss was still mourned heavily now, almost two decades later.
They had both been named after heroes and angels, born to Vault Hunters who defeated legendary monsters. It was some legacy to live up to. Pandora was still largely a lawless planet overrun by bandit clans and killer fauna, but the age of the wars and monsters was over- not really much opportunity to showcase the name, powers, and lineage of Angel's birthright. Sometimes Angel felt a little overwhelmed at this burden; other times, she distracted herself by electrocuting skags to death with her Siren skill, which she called Phaseshock. She looked back at the monument and let the long side of her light brown asymmetrically undercut hair fall into her left eye. While she used her gift to amuse herself, her namesake had used hers to rid the planet of tyranny. Angel sighed.
Somehow, in almost twenty years, Mad Moxxi had managed to not age a single day. The sultry businesswoman still ran her very popular bar, which had seen a dramatic upshift in business as Sanctuary expanded following the Hyperion Wars. A small shopping district had sprung up around the central hub that was her bar, which had contributed to an economic boom for the flying city. Moxxi smugly managed the coalition of shopkeepers, forming a sort of merchants' guild, which also oversaw efforts to create a tourism industry for Sanctuary and a few other cities on the planet which had managed to grow in the post-war era, such as Overlook and Oasis. Moxxi had marketed it as an "exciting getaway for adventurous explorers" and it had attracted large numbers of rich visitors wanting to have an exotic vacation to brag about at their fancy corporate banquets.
Angel's twin brother, Roland, sat at the bar, swirling a watered-down glass of rakkale as he watched the small whirlpool with mild disinterest. Pandora was still void of a drinking age, but Roland hated the out-of-control feeling that came with an overeager ingestion of alcohol, unlike his wild and hedonistic sister.
"Still working on that? It's been, what, an hour?" Moxxi appeared in front of Roland, shaking her head. Her normal flirtatious nature was abandoned when she interacted with the children of the Vault Hunters, replacing it instead with a more motherly concern. "You're too much like your mother, you know," she clucked softly. "Too concerned with staying in control."
"Angel will be here soon," Roland replied, grinning a little. "She'll pick up my slack." He often found himself in Moxxi's bar, and through the years she had given him all kinds of advice. He appreciated the concern she had for him and his sister, and saw her as a sort of surrogate aunt to whom he approached with life quandaries that he didn't want to ask his parents. For example, how was one supposed to talk to attractive people? He gripped his drink a little tighter as Moxxi walked away, hyper-aware of said attractive person walking into the bar just at that moment.
"Oh, hey, Roland." It seemed that everything else in the crowded bar had gone silent. Roland could hear the chair next to him scrape the floor as the beautiful, grease-stained, tall girl with long, dark-red hair moved into it.
"Hey, Riley," he said, keeping his normal calm demeanor intact while his heart raged away. Another Vault Child, Riley was only a few months younger than Roland and Angel, and was already recognized across several planets as a gifted mechanic. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her long, graceful hands pull off her dirty mechanic's gloves, revealing pale hands that he imagined were feather-soft.
"I see your gross-ass sister isn't here… Are you expecting her? Because if she's going to be here, I'm gonna need to finish this quick." Roland looked over to see Riley gesturing to the glass of full-strength rakkale Moxxi had just delivered, rolling her eyes and grimacing. Perhaps the largest deterrent to a potential relationship with this girl he had had a crush on for years was the fact that she absolutely abhorred his twin sister, who he was very close with and was infrequently without. Before Roland could respond, Riley had already downed a large portion of her glass.
"Liver like her dad," Moxxi commented from down the bar.
"You know it, Mad Mox," Riley replied casually before taking another large gulp. She turned back to Roland. "Oh, also, that rifle you asked me to mod up, I think I know what I want to do with it." Her beautiful golden eyes began to sparkle as she moved into one of her favorite topics of conversation. Roland sometimes felt like he could get lost in those tiny suns. "So, I can like, at least triple the zoom of the scope, not a problem. And I wanna try to get it so that you can get three rounds off, burst-fire, fast enough to beat the recoil. Problem is, trade-off's gonna be that the mag will only hold those three rounds at a time." She paused, but Roland was too enraptured with her radiant face to respond. "I'll need a Vladoff stabilizer, if that's how you wanna go," she continued. "The Jakobs parts will already suffice for the fire rate. And if you want me to put in some kind of extra kick, just bring me the Maliwan charge for the effect you want."
"S-sounds great, Riley," he finally managed to say.
"Cool," she said, turning back to her drink, which she gulped with vigor. "Bring the parts by sometime today or tomorrow, then."
Roland always got Riley to modify his weapons. Of course, since she was one of the best mechanics on the planet, it was a good choice. Mainly, though, Roland loved having items that she had touched. He would often hold one of his modified guns at night and smile as he thought about the beautiful woman who had put it together for him.
He jumped a little as the girl beside him slammed her empty glass on a table. "Not a moment too soon," he heard her mutter, distaste seeping from her tone. He looked at the door to see his twin sister slowly striding over, tattooed arm swaying casually as her one-sided hairdo bounced in time with it. "Sorry, Roland, but I have to go now. I only keep tasteful company."
"Oh, we all know that you just want to get back to your oily garage to shove more dirty bolts into your saggy pussy, gearhead," Angel replied, just as bitterly.
"Short out any more important generators lately, static-for-brains?"
"I'm saving it for when you're on life support, grease breath."
Riley had risen and both girls were staring with cool hatred at each other. Angel flipped her hair with practiced ease and narrowed her eyes as she stared up at her taller rival. Riley flipped her long braid in response and folded her arms. "It looks better when you have more than half a head of hair," she said, indicating Angel's half-shaved head.
"I think the tattoos and special powers more than make up for it," was the snide reply. "I got something nicer than hair from my mom."
"Too bad you can't fit any class into that fritzing static cloud of a brain."
"I'd ask to borrow some but it seems you're just as lacking, grease monkey."
The snide exchange continued as the two moved past each other. Angel took Riley's abandoned seat and Riley stalked towards the door and left.
Roland had frozen in the stiff tension of the standoff between his crush and his sister. The atmosphere loosened considerably as his dear Riley left, and he turned to watch his sister shake of the catty mood. "Really don't know what her problem is," Angel said offhandedly before waving to Moxxi, bidding her for a drink.
It was true- Riley had always harbored a strong dislike of Angel for some unknown reason, even as children. At first, the Siren had ignored the snide comments, but for the past few years, she had started firing back, revving up Riley's opinion from strong dislike to full-blown hatred. Somewhere deep in Roland's heart he hoped that the two would reconcile, opening the road for him to truly pursue the pretty mechanic.
"What a cunt," Angel muttered, before turning her glass towards the sky.
trashlady: shut up I think about these fucking babies a lot. hopefully I can tell you their dumb little stories that I think of. this is my first crack at writing fanfiction in like ten years. i am a plant biologist, not an englishist.
trashlady: i also give away borderlands fanfiction ideas and challenges like goddamn candy if you want
trashlady: can anyone guess who the parents are (it will later be revealed but i wanted it to be moderately unclear for this first chapter)