Arcadian Rhythms
(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)
Episode 4
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"I have distressing news," said their lead guitarist, gawking at his phone.
"Is the news that we suck?" posed the drummer, quite dryly. She flatly jested,"Because I don't think I can take it."
"You do suck!" Mae taunted, accentuating their insult with a sharp strum of their bass – unplugged. "Now it's our turn. Get off the stage."
The drummer flipped Mae the bird, and Mae flipped it right back – their bassist defiantly strummed his instrument in retaliation, its volume much exceeding Mae's. Ya know. Because speakers.
With an unamused frown shot toward Mae, the guitarist of the opposing band clarified to his crew what he was on about, flashing his phone in their faces as he paced by them.
"Off the Hook are doing a secret show tomorrow night at The Downside and Pearl asked us to open for them."
"I hate you," blurted their bassist, a shaggy-haired chimp of a boy. Man? Eh. Somewhere inbetween.
The guitarist retorted eloquently, "A gig is a gig is a gig is a...gig."
"Hey!" Mae interjected, starting to unplug the rivaling group's equipment. "Your time's up, it's our turn! Now git-!" They tripped up over some cabling, but were caught by the arm just before they lost balance.
It was a familiar grip – Bea's grip.
Everything felt like it stopped in that moment, in the worst and best kinds of ways.
Beatrice's smoldering look of dry disappointment mixed with embers of sentimentality – it was about as Mae remembered it. Hot. Erh, well, more like...sprinkles of hot? Over a dusty ash?
The sound of the other band's guitarist and bassist bickering faded into Mae's consciousness as they regained their footing.
"...for the band? For the band? For th-"
"Can't we do our o-"
"For the band?!"
"Can't we do our own secret shows?"
The red-head drummer flatly snarked, "All our shows are secret shows."
"Oh, we're doin' it!" growled their lead, so passionate about this matter that he whipped his phone against the wooden stage floor. It bounced a bit, and the sound was oddly deafening to everyone in the auditorium.
A dead beat. Angus coughed.
"Dude," Gregg blurted, his single syllable echoing through the hall.
Looking worn out and frazzled, all the more so from abusing his own phone, the lead of the rival band grumpily stomped over to his device. He picked it up, grimacing at its freshly splintered screen.
"An omen," hissed the bassist. "The rock goddesses disavow you, Stephen. They disavow you and your conspiring with rap-slash-pop-funk heathens."
"Are they rap-slash-pop-funk?" the drummer murmured critically.
"Off the Hook?" the guitarist mumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket. He paused, shrugged, and went about locking up his guitar case. "No idea."
Mae glanced at her compatriots and they all uncertainly shook their heads, shrugged, etcetra.
No one really knew what genre Off the Hook fell under. They were like a genre unto themselves. Mae guessed the name was appropriate, then.
The bassist that was not Mae was still plucking at his ugly instrument which was totally not as cool as Mae's, like, if they were axes then that loser's was a dull wood-chopping axe all chipped to hell and Mae's was, like, a rune-carved, frost-edged, gold-imbued bad-ass axe. With, like, vikings, and shit.
"They're just popular because one of them comes from a rich family," the bassist bitterly pouted.
"Scott," deadpanned the drummer. "You are not gonna make this weird again."
"Yea, man," grumbled the band's lead, accepting a wad of rolled up cord from Bea and stuffing it in a case. "Whatever happened between you and Pearl, dude? It happened. It's done. We're all adults here, come on."
"What, uh...-" Now Mae was curious. Unplugging Scott's bass, she shoved a tangle of cord in his face, asking, "What happened between you and Pearl? Dude?"
"Nothing," he growled. A mile a minute: "Everything. All the things. First base. I don't know. Half a base. No. Maybe. Base and half? She's evil. Pure evil. We were in high school."
"Someone got dumped," blurted the drummer. "And then someone carried a bitter as fuck grudge about it for the past five years. Because someone is a childish tool."
"Yes, Kim," hissed Scott. "Thank you, Kim..."
"Doesn't feel so good, does it?" Kim taunted, slamming her foot against the drum pedal.
-pomp-
"Look," said the guitarist (Steve? Or something?). He was finagling with his guitar. "You and Kim got past...-" He squinted at one of them, then the other. "-...whatever that was. Here we are. Still a band. All right? You can deal with a single gig."
"Seems like the mature thing to do," piped up Angus, helping the guitarist – what was his name, again? "Your ex is likely extending a gesture of good-faith. Maybe even an act of apology?"
Scott countered, "You didn't catch the part when I said she was evil, did you?"
"Um...-" Angus scratched at his forehead a bit. "I don't really...buy into the belief that people are 'evil' or 'good.' It's fairly unhelpful and. So." Angus trailed off with a shrug.
"Real philosopher, there," Kim punted some more sarcasm.
"Well, it was one of my favorite subjects in-"
Gregg swooped over, rubbing Angus' back, and whispered something into his ear.
"-...ah."
Gregg, smiling warmly, gave Angus a cheerful slap on the back.
"Ow."
"Oh, sorry, Babe."
"Uh," Mae blurted, watching the stoic-faced drummer just sitting there. "Maybe instead of bein' a dick to my friend, and gossiping over whatever dumb love life history, ya'll could, like, clean up yer shit, or...-? I mean, ya need help, or...-?"
"We got it," grunted Kim. Not moving at all.
Mae flatly stated, "'Cuz you're running like ten minutes late already."
"Yup," the red-head huffed. Still not moving.
"Eating away our time slot, here." Mae tapped at their wrist. Then, realizing they were holding their phone, rotated their hand around and tapped at their phone, instead.
"Uh-huh." This drummer, man!
"Sorta...rude," Mae pointed out irritably.
"Sure." Now the little ginger bitch was smiling all spiteful and crap.
"Mae." It was Bea, hovering over their shoulder. "She's just fucking with you at this rate, calm down."
Mae grumbled quietly, "They're dicking around, it's taking away our practice time."
"It's Sex Bob-Omb, Mae. Dicking around is what they do. It's whatever."
"It's not OK," Mae protested.
"You seem really keen on practice today," observed Angus.
"Uh, yea?" Mae said, thrusting out their arms. "Since when was the last time we got the whole band together?" Mae swatted the back of their hand against Bea's arm. Bea took it without flinching, good girl. Mae continued to swat as they spoke. "I mean, this is a full house, a full Weird Autumn house, we gotta take advantage of every minute of it."
"OK, OK," Bea sighed, nudging Mae's hands off her. "So, let's catch up a bit while these ass-hats pack up." She pulled out a box of cigs like a boss – from her coat's boob pocket, no less (yea, yea, 'breast pocket', but c'mon, Mae savored any excuse to pull out the word 'boob,' even if it meant–)
Oh, whoops. Her chums were all heading off outside, leaving Mae behind with these degenerate losers.
WOMP WOMP it was a metaphor for Mae's life, rite?
Well, sort of, it was. Frickin' A.
Anyway.
Mae followed them outside.
Blech. Fuckin' cold...
Mae'd forgotten their coat. Again.
Part of them wanted to somehow goad Beatrice into lending her coat.
Partially to be less cold. But also partially for the insinuating undertones.
But boy oh boy would that shit not fly.
Pulling up from the rear, though, Mae couldn't help but admire Bea's rear – just for a sec, ya know? Mae had really missed that rear. It was a nice rear. Bubble-shaped. Gregg's was good, too, in a very different way, but that rear was like, reg rear. Regular rear. Everyday rear. Bea's, now, it had been months since-
"Hey."
Bea was giving Mae a weird. Look. fuck shit shit play it cool
Mae jammed their hands into their pockets, 'cuz that was pretty much the only thing they could do to warm up at all, and nodded their chin up, approaching them.
Mae had to not make this weird not make this weird not make this
ugh but Bea's face was still so good.
SHIT
was Mae horny WHY were they horny why had they not thought to correct this before coming to the whole thing with the stuff and the person who they had used to
LAUGHTER laughing there was laughing now
"Hahahaha...ahhhhh...-" Mae sighed out her breath.
Bea was smiling, fffffucking good, right? Good, that was good, great. Even.
"Sweet, sweet revenge," Bea mused, about whatever they had just been laughing at.
"Like ice cream," Mae spat.
"Huh?"
"Because it's best served cold. But it's also sweet, sweet. So...-" Mae shrugged. Gregg was nodding. "Like ice cream."
"...Huh. Yea. All right," Bea agreed. She took a hit of her cigarette.
"So, BEE-BEE," Mae blurted, giving Beatrice a good ol' wallop on the arm. Actually, a wimpy little swat. 'Cuz Mae was outta shape. "What's the sitch with you lately, huh?"
"Yea, man," chirped in Gregg, "Haven't seen you in a minute."
"How's your father?" Angus wondered.
Bea's eyes twitched with the uncomfies and she shook her head slightly.
"Enhhh, everything's...good enough, over in Bea Town, here. Don't worry about my shit. I want to know what you guys are all up to."
Mae quick-fired, "Gregg an' me are still at the Snack Falcon, Angus got a raise at his cubicle job, aaaand I got a new roommate."
A quiet floated across them. A motorcycle's growl hummed in the distance, sputtering to a stop a couple blocks away.
Bea puffed out some smoke, wordless for another sec.
She finally mused, "Sounds like we're all living the fucking life."
Gregg brought up, "Heard from ol' Chlo-Bear that she popped into your shop today?"
Bea shrugged, then nodded.
"She's why you showed up, huh?" Mae recalled from the text they'd received. "And how's she doing?"
"Not much better than any of us," muttered Bea, speaking while her lips kept her cigarette held up. Damn, so hot. Mae remembered how hot Bea was but like they'd FORGOTTON how hot Bea was. Fuck.
"Ah, right," said Angus, finding his way into the conversation. "What about her wife? Has anyone heard from her lately?"
"Max-a-roni?" murmured Gregg, scratching behind his ear. A moment of thought and then he shrugged. "Nah. Nope."
Bea shrugged as well, drizzling smoke out through her nostrils.
The motorcycle in the distance choked and coughed up again, heading their way.
"Uh," Mae rubbed their pudgy belly a little. "Well, like, Alex is going to lunch with her tomorrow, I guess?"
"Alex?" murmured Bea.
"New roomie," Mae clarified. Bea's brows lightly lifted, her lips just barely open as her chin tilted a little fffffffFUCK see? Sexy.
"Wait, wait, really?" Angus seemed a bit offended. "Max is actually socializing with Alex? I've...been trying to get in touch with Max all month, and she hasn't responded..."
Mae belt out a laugh.
"Dude," they said with a small head shake. "Alex has been per-sis-tant. Guess she finally broke down that hermit's door."
"Mm," Angus hummed, rubbing at his round jawline with contemplation. "I was trying to talk with her about work, maybe that...warded her off?"
"Pff," laughed Gregg, giving his boyfriend a rub on the back. "Would prolly ward me off, Babe. I mean," he gestured a wrist at the lot of them. "any of us these days, right?"
Bea's eyelids fluttered unpleasantly and she nodded in concession. Mae, wide-eyed, also bobbed their head up and down.
That motorcycle from before? It slowed its roll right in front of them, parking on the curb. Two peeps were riding the thing, with the passenger being a hulking dude with the widest shoulders you'd ever seen, and the driver being one lean, mean, buff machine of a woman. Aha. Mae knew these two, fershur.
After kicking her cycle's stand out, the driver thrust up both biker-gloved hands, giving the group on the stairs some killer bull-horn gestures, throwing her head around. She made some kind of shout but under her full-on helmet it was a muffled something or other. Pff. The goofy lunatic. Mae loved it.
The larger of the pair had to fumble with his helmet, which was maybe a tad smallish for his tad biggish skull.
"NYEH-...!" he began, but his helmet got stuck halfway off his head.
"NG-...!" started up the driver, having removed her helmet, but she hung it on her handlebar to assist with the helmet-removal process for her bud.
Between the two of them, the helmet was popped off and rolled down the curb. After staring at it for a second, the two remembered their audience.
They thrust their beefy arms up, eyes glimmering with hype, and yelled.
"NYEH-HEH-HEH!"
"NGAHHH!"
The group waved at them, altogether unsure of what to say in the face of being outclassed so effortlessly. The big dude was dressed in a colorful tanktop with the phrase {Cool Dude} unevenly printed on it, as well as some huge kicks with huge socks to match, and shorts so wide Mae's whole body could probably fit in one leg. Had a very slim, buzzed haircut on his donkin' head, and the biggest grin Mae knew of. Literally, like, physically, guy's mouth was enormous. And also smiling all the time. That was Papyrus. Guy was a RIOT to follow on Instapix.
The smaller dude was clad in a tight-ass leather jacket with a navy-blue shirt underneath, and some kinda dark red...scarf? Scarf-like entity? Around her neck? Faded gray jeans, some killer goth boots (studded~), and her hair was styled into a ponytail with some serious side-bang swooping down the front, covering her left eye. Her hair was dyed a deep red – a nice choice, if Mae said so themself. And as if she needed it, but her ears were dudded up with some neat rings. This bad-ass chick was Undyne – she'd lost an eye at some point, kept it patched over and all that. Lotta rumors but all Mae knew was it had to have been lost doing one of the epic things Undyne was known for doing. She'd saved some disabled kid from getting run over one time, made the news. Uhhh stopped some shootout at the mall some other time? Other stuff. Security guard, by the way. Both of them – at the mall. So, all of the bad-ass of being a cop without any of the red tape. Yellow tape? Eh.
Oh, yea! And they were in a band.
Rolling his tongue on the first 'r,' the big dude in the backseat declared, "The Rrrrroyal Guard has ARRIVED!"
Mae was slapping Bea on the rib, whispering with giddy glee, "ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod"
"We're here!" bellowed the surprisingly deep, rusty-edged voice of Undyne. "We're queer! We're...ready to-"
"Are we?" blurted Papyrus, palming his own massive chest. "Do I count?"
"I mean," grumbled Undyne uncertainly, shrugging her meaty shoulders up and down a bit. After a pause, she gave him a firm pat on the pec, pointed at him keenly with the other hand, and said quietly, "Yea, you count! You are fucking valid, Bro."
"Very well," Pap decided, his eyes narrowing and sliding to one side. "I do feel fairly validated. Carry on."
"We're HERE!" Undyne burst out, pumping her fists up again.
"WE'RE QUEER!" Papyrus huffed. "...apparently!"
"We're ready to...-" Undyne paused. Froze right the hell up, bug-eyed at the group gawking at her. Looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel from the confusion. "Uh. You guys aren't Off the Hook..."
"We are...not," Angus confirmed, trying to assess these two.
Mae wormed in, "Buuuuut YA'LL are fucking off. the. Hook!"
"WE are not," Papyrus corrected, giant fists on his giant hips. "We are...-" He narrowed his eyes. "The Rrrrrroyal Guard."
"Weeeeee," Gregg chimed in, "Are off the mutha-fuckin' chain, tho!"
Giving Mae an excited grin, Gregg nodded at them, who nodded back – they pounded chests and slapped two high fives. First one didn't stick quite right.
"Sounds like a long name," Undyne observed. "And hard to, like...advertise."
Bea stepped down the stairs – nooooo Bee-Bee DAFUQ is you doing? – nonchalant as hell, still holding her half-smoked cig in her lips.
"I'm Beatrice," she greeted, sticking out a BOLD hand at Undyne. Tilting her head, she cited, "We're a band called Weird Autumn. You're a band called...The Royal Guard?"
Undyne, confused, wiped her front bang to the side, revealing her sick eye-patch – black patch, with a purple skull on it, neat – and shook Bea's hand.
"Yea," Undyne replied, a little surprised at Bea strolling right on up to her. Mae could tell their handshake got a little intense, 'cuz Bea's eyes opened wider than usual for a sec. "Name's Undyne."
"And I am the Grrrreat Papyrus!"
Bea cocked a brow at him. "...Yea. Uh."
Gregg hissed into Mae's ear, "what is she doing just rollin' UP ON THEM like that?"
To which Mae hissed quietly back, "RITE?"
Bea and Undyne's handshake broke off, and Undyne shoved off of her bike, her jacket brushing up right against Bea as she did so.
"I, uh, remember you," Beatrice said, even her cool demeanor shrinking just a little. She took another puff of her cigarette, blowing the smoke to one the side. "Lead guitar, right?"
"Hell yea," Undyne said with a beaming smile. "Inspiration to degenerates the town over."
OK OK OK, soooo yea, Beatrice was a total catch, total bae, total bad-ass, literally Mae's previous bae, hopefully once-again bae.
But Undyne? Hooooo. 'Undyne the Undying,' her stage name, more like...'Undyne the...Underwear-Removing.' Or, or, 'Undyne the Underpants-Exploding.' Orrrrr 'Undyne the Top-'cause-you're-always-UNDer-her' orrrrrr OK, yea, you got it. Something Unappropriate. She was still indie, sure, but Mae knew in their heart of hearts that Undyne was destined for some great things. They'd performed in the same set once before, some artsy charity thing for old people or whatever, but Mae felt like Weird Autumn was out of its league when put beside The Royal Guard.
Watching Undyne re-cover her eye-patch with swoopy-bang, Bea explained dryly, "Sorry to disappoint, but the band called Off the Hook isn't here."
Papyrus was scooping up the helmet they'd dropped. Undyne was rubbing at her chin, staring at the lot of youths on the stairs. Mae was worried they'd piss themselves when those sharp eyes passed over them.
"Well, shit," Undyne sighed, her brows furrowing. "How'd we miss that?"
Daintily placing the second helmet on the other handlebar, Papyrus shrugged, pondering aloud, "PERHAPS you misread the text."
"Mm." Undyne glanced around. "Maybe," she admitted, her face boiling up with...thought.
Huh. Mae didn't find her so hot when she tried to put on this, like, thinking face. Made it look like she was gonna grind her own teeth into dust, or her head was gonna burst, or something.
Well. That was OK. Mae knew a fellow, erh, dimmer-bulb when they saw one. See? This was why Undyne was married to the chick she was married to. This was why Chloe was married to Max. This was why Mae was gonna-probably-hopefully get married to Bea some day. Right? Like ketchup and mustard, PB and J. Just went well together, balanced it out, Ying and Yang, or whatever.
Undyne recalled, "Didn't we play a gig together uptown back in the summer?"
"We, uh, Yupp!" Mae squawked, shakily finding their way down the front steps. "Yeaaa, we did. Uh-huh." They shoved out their hand at Undyne, oozing but trying to not ooze too bad, "We love your shit, you guys are cool, I like you, you're my-"
"So cool!" Gregg agreed, grabbing Mae's shoulders and squeezing them. SAVIOR.
"Ha." Undyne grabbed Mae's hand, snapped her fingers at Mae and smirked – Mae would snapshot that image and staple it to the wall of her inner sanctum. "We're still rough n' tumble, ya know?"
"She's the rough!" Papyrus blurted. "I'm the tumble!"
Undyne snort-laughed – OH GOD SHE WAS A SNORT-LAUGHER? – and added, "Psshyeah, and Sans is the 'womp-womp' noise!"
Papyrus was grinning with a weirdly serious look, concluding, "And Bloo Bloo must be the quiet moment of contemplation afterward!"
Undyne's snickering popped out another snort, and she slapped herself in the thigh, while Papyrus was...making a weird laugh Mae did not know how to explain.
None of this made any sense to Mae, and they were loving every second of it.
"Where is the rest of your band?" Angus asked.
"Hahhhh," Undyne sighed, recovering from her laughter. "Well! Not here, apparently. Not that it'd be a surprise with Sans, but Napsta would've been an early worm – not that you'd even know they were here, heh. But I'm guessing no one else is here?"
"There is another band inside," Bea pointed out. "They just mentioned Off the Hook. Maybe you should...-" She shrugged, glancing off. "-...I dunno, ask them?"
Undyne shot Bea a side-eye but nodded.
"Maybe we should you-dunno ask them...Eh, Paps?" Undyne pounded her fist into Papyrus' enormous bicep. Dude didn't even flinch. She unhooked a guitar case that was attached to the back of her bike and looped it around her shoulder.
Papyrus agreed, "Sounds like a reasonable you-dunno idea." He retrieved a single microphone and a tambourine from a pouch attached to the bike's opposite side.
The two of them headed in, and Mae nearly tailgated Undyne before Bea stopped her.
"Dude," Bea whispered into her ear. "Don't be such a spazz, play it cool."
"But it'ssssss Undyne," Mae winced, flickering their eyelids at Bea with hands clasped against their chest.
"Look, don't touch," Bea primly advised.
Mae panted with disbelief. "YOU touched...!" they seethed quietly.
Bea smirked and laughed through her nose.
"I did," she bragged in her calm, smug little way, sticking out her tongue for a split second before pulling it back in.
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Grillby's was a busy place that afternoon, much to Max's benefit. Crowds made her job easier. Safer, at the least.
Max leveled her phone in front of her, swiping to her camera function – inner lens, zooming in toward the man at the bar behind her. She started tapping the button to grab some pictures over her shoulder. Of course, she couldn't get a look at his face. Ugh. Plus, it was not her preferred resolution, but...she felt certain it was her guy, based on who he'd entered with, and the chumminess he had with the bartender. If he'd only just turn to-
"Psh," Alex scoffed playfully. "I'd heard you were quite the selfie prodigy, but you really get into it, don't you?"
"Eh, w-well, I mean...-" Max shrugged. "It's still fun to do selfies once in a while, right?" She fussed with her bangs a bit, then dusted her cheekbone with her fingertip. She was wearing her freckles proudly that day, but the lack of makeup made the shadows under her eye look terrible. She used her phone as a mirror but quickly shifted gears, eager to focus on her target.
"Agh," she grunted, keeping up her facade. "I, uh, I look like a zombie. Pff."
And then, someone else sidled up next to her subject at the bar in front of the joint. Someone who, even from behind, Max couldn't help but do a double take at.
A sweeping, shining head of golden hair, straight and serene, running down past her shoulders. Red and black plaid shirt with bleached, tight jeans, and a black denim jacket, unzipped and cut a bit short. Even from the side, the woman's model-like features caught Max off guard. She kept taking pictures, then switched to video, trying to zoom in.
It couldn't be...right?
A single earring – left ear – bright blue feather.
Fuck.
"Well, yea, with an expression like that," teased Alex, "you sure do look like a zombie..."
Max cleared her throat, prying her phone out of position to review her shots.
"Y-Yea," Max agreed with a bashful chuckle in spite of herself. "Oh, yikes...I sure do, huh?"
But she was barely in the photos she'd taken. What had her preoccupied was the blonde woman who had just approached her subject.
Reviewing her admittedly fuzzy photos, Max wasn't entirely sure. It had been a while, after all.
But damn, if it didn't look like Rachel Amber – Chloe's ex, and the source of...well, everything that had led Max to where she currently was. Rachel had become quite the sore subject around Chloe, but in fact, Max had yet to meet the woman in person. All of that stuff between Chloe and Rachel had gone down in the interim when Max had been away during high school. By the time Max had come back to Arcadia for college, Rachel had gone missing – turned out, she had disappeared to dodge out of some trouble she'd gotten herself into. Part of which? She'd been cheating on Chloe with some mutual friend of theirs: Frank Bowers. Or, for all Max knew, the other way around. Not her business, though she had always been curious.
But from the way Chloe had talked about it, Rachel had robbed them both, then left town. There hadn't been much of a trail for Max to follow. She had tried to skiptrace Ms. Amber's whereabouts way back when she'd gone missing – it had been the catalyst that had brought her and Chloe back into each other's lives, and what had tumbled Max down from the future path of 'photography' to one of 'investigation.' But what little Max had been able to dredge up had indeed pointed to the woman having fled Arcadia years back – about a decade ago.
Why go through so much trouble to get out of Arcadia, only to return to it, years later? Back to a place where she had such a reputation, so many targets on her back? And why was she talking with Max's subject? What connection could she have to what was going on with Los Muertos? And yet, somehow Max wasn't all that surprised, in a way.
After all, Rachel sounded like the sort who attracted trouble, and lots of it.
Across the restaurant, at the bar, the pudgy man in the blue hoodie with the white-furred collar was trying to enjoy his lunch.
But Sans' meal was being interrupted by this pushy lady yapping about something or other.
Frankly, he'd tuned her out, his attention wandering to a concert playing on the flatscreen suspended over the bar's counter. The vocalist sure was something.
[ " I hear you buzzing, a fly on the wall
In through the window and up through the hall
Flying in circles, just trying to land
I see you hurting, I do what I can " ]
Cheek in his palm, elbow to the counter, his beer bottle in the other hand...
Sans took a few gulps as he soaked the singer's voice in.
[ " But I won't save you
I won't save you " ]
"Hey."
The golden-haired woman who'd been blabbing off at Sans slapped her palm firmly against the counter top of the bar, leaning her head over sideways, trying to get inbetween his gaze and the flatscreen. Her threatening glare had a shiny gold curtain backdrop. Lady probably put more effort into her hair than Sans put into an entire day. She flicked that golden curtain, and hazel eyes attempted to pierce through Sans' glass lenses. But she might as well have been staring through empty eye sockets with how little he cared.
"Are you listening to me?" she hissed beneath the restaurant's chattering.
Sans shrugged.
He pulled a pickle slice out from his hamburger and ate it.
"Because if you're not," she went on, "we're going to have a problem."
Who was this punk, anyway? And when would she leave?
Guy was trying to enjoy his lunch, here.
She spoke with cold syllables, her sentence tipped sharp, like an icicle.
"And we are not going to have a problem...are we?"
Sans avoided her pristine doll-face – which, frankly, didn't do much for him. It was such effort just to look at.
"a problem, huh?" Sans murmured with a yawn. He scratched at the blob of of his belly and took a sip of his beer. "yea. don't like those much. lotta hassle."
"Oh, yea? Good. So you're going to get your crew to back off, then."
"uh. . ." Sans raised his brow at her. He shrugged. "not sure whatcha mean, lady."
She laughed through her nose.
"He said you'd be difficult," she noted bitterly, shaking her head.
"heh. must have the wrong guy. me 'n difficult are night and day. can never get us in the same place."
He plucked a single french fry from his plate and popped it into his mouth.
The young lady drummed her fingertails against the bar counter with impatience.
"Do you want us to get your brother involved?" she threatened. "Because that would not be hard."
All right.
This wasn't gonna go away, huh?
Lady had a real bone to pick.
Sans' head slowly creaked to his left.
When he matched glances with this stranger, he felt a tingle of someone familiar.
Damnedest thing...
He took off his glasses. He polished them on his sleeve.
"do i...know you from somewhere?" He put his glasses back on.
She paused, a hand on her hip, refusing to relent under his curious gaze.
"Don't you?" she replied slyly, her brows twitching.
A tension floated – around, behind, in front of them.
Like a fog.
Their eyes dodged around each other's expressions.
Avoidance, now...that was something Sans was good at.
"ya know. i don't," Sans declared with a shrug, breaking their staring contest. He was never one for winning. Too much work.
She seethed quietly down at him, "And it'll be better for you if we keep it that way, and I never have to see you again."
"sure. sounds good to me."
Sans pulled out a slice of tomato from his hamburger and slid it into his mouth.
"Is anything I'm saying getting through?" she huffed. "Or is your head as empty as everyone says?"
Sans took a sip of his beer.
She went on.
"We are not fucking around, here."
"hey. lady."
"What?" she hissed.
Sans paused.
He tapped his finger against his beer bottle twice.
He took off his eye glasses again and sighed, rubbing at his face.
"look. here's some friendly advice."
He could senseher teeth grinding together with impatience.
Feel her skull glowing with something he thought was supposed to be dead and buried.
"if you keep going the way you are now. . ."
He twisted his head toward her, nice and slow.
". . ."
He cut through her glaring with his own intense stare, grinning over his shoulder.
His brows hopped devilishly with the last two slow syllables he spoke.
"you're gonna have a bad time."
Rachel blinked.
And he was gone.
No, wait...Gone?
What?!
He was gone. Fucking gone. Just his plate remained, with some wrinkled cash pinned beneath his empty beer bottle.
Oh-ho, that sneaky mother fucker...Thought he was so...-
Rachel's phone vibrated.
Her head lulled back as her eyes rolled upward. Biting her lip impatiently, she checked her phone.
( Don't bother. )-
( You won't be able to catch him. )-
( He got the message. )-
( Let's go. )-
Rachel grimaced at that. The hell did he think he was, ordering her around? Rachel didn't follow orders from anyone.
She flagged down the bartender – a dorky, square-looking guy in a suit with small glasses over unassuming eyes. His strawberry blonde hair was an intentional mess of wavy locks, streaked back with the tips flicked up. Had on a bow-tie, the nerd.
"Hey," she growled at him, gesturing toward that clown's leftovers. "You know that prick? Did you see where he went?"
The bartender's expression was...actually hard to read. Which was saying something – Rachel was very good at decrypting expressions. But this guy had quite the poker face.
"Do I look like I have time to dick around?" she asked him testily, fluttering irritated eyelids.
He simply shrugged, shaking his head, and said not a word, returning to his clients down the bar, who shot Rachel disbelieving glance.
Rachel's nose wrinkled as things bubbled to the surface. In a moment of frustration, she swiped up the empty beer bottle from the counter, holding it aloft. Her grip tightened around it, and she huffed out an "ARGH!", smashing the bottle against the counter. It shattered in half, spraying brown shards across the tiled floor.
"Where the fuck did he go?!" she roared at the barkeep, who seemed barely fazed.
The restaurant went silent, save for the eerie singing coming from the television.
[ " Maybe you're looking for someone to blame
Fighting for air while you circle the drain " ]
She clutched the makeshift shank at her side, glowering at the bartender, whose expression soured slightly. Some kind of reaction, at least.
[ " Never be sorry for your little time
It's not when you get there, it's always the climb " ]
She could burn this place to the fucking ground, if she wanted to. That would take care of their problem, wouldn't it?
Her phone vibrated, startling her out of her fit.
Fucking...fuck.
( Are you REALLY going to make a scene here? )-
( YOU IDIOT. )-
( I thought you were smarter than that. )-
A number of folks were gawking at her.
She'd lost it for a sec, there. Shit.
She tucked her phone away, trying to recollect her cool.
Closing her eyes and clenching her teeth, she stopped herself from raging any further. She took a deep breath. She wiped her hair back behind her shoulders. She set what remained of the bottle onto the counter top, and loosened her muscles.
He texted her again.
( That's better. )-
( But you're still on thin ice. )-
( Now let's GO. )-
She spitefully stomped past the bartender, snarling at him, "Yea, keep this shit up, watch what happens...We'll be back."
And with that, she slipped out of the restaurant.
From across the way, Max was standing up, filming the woman exiting with her phone.
"Whoa, you're...pretty quick with that thing," Alex observed, a little off-put.
Ensuring the file was saved, Max noticed two others who had similarly pulled out their phones – for very different reasons than her, but she appreciated the camouflage. She discreetly sat back down, shrugging sheepishly and flashing Alex a plastic smile of embarrassment.
"Ah, y-yea. Reflex," she dismissed. "Was, uh, worried that chick might go all Streets of Rage on us for a minute." She scooted herself in and picked up her menu.
"Seems like a good reflex to have," pondered Alex. "If something had happened, you'd, uh, ya know-...You'd have proof. Right?"
"Mm." Max nodded, her hands primly flipping through laminated menu pages.
Her head was spiraling. That was totally Rachel Amber. It had to be. And she seemed to have an even shorter fuse than the stories Chloe had told her.
Their waitress, who had been momentarily stopped by the commotion, cleared her throat, pulling out her tablet.
"Well," the waitress sighed. "That happened."
Alex and Max chuckled nervously.
"Sorry about that," said the waitress. "Um, what did you want to eat?"
Max was kind of panicking under the surface, cycling through the menu with indecision. Why was it always so hard to make simple choices like this?
Alex, meanwhile, simply stole a quick glance at her own menu and, after a moment's hesitation, shrugged.
"Do you need more time to-"
"A tuna melt with extra avocado!" Alex blurted, cutting the waiter off.
It seemed more like a snap decision than something Alex specifically liked. But Max was one to talk – er, think. Judge?
Blegh.
"I'll have what she's having," Max 'decided', (gragh) handing the menu back whilst sighing in spite of her situation. She watched the waitress go off with their order, taking the opportunity to sneak a glance at the bar. No sign of either of the suspicious folks on her radar. The bartender was tidily sweeping up the broken beer bottle pieces.
"Oh, man," Alex blurted suddenly. "Is that Crash Red?"
"...Huh?" Max stirred herself from her snooping, turning back to her lunch date.
Alex was smiling warmly, cheeks in her palms, elbows on the table. She tilted her head up slightly to a TV hanging in a corner of the restaurant. Against a dimly lit stage, a musician clad in a golden dress stood. Looked about Max's age, with bright red hair curled elegantly, and a fluffy white collar. A large sash around her waist portrayed a gold triangle – a motif that carried through to the stage lights behind her. She was singing pensively into a microphone, clasping its stand with a subtle melancholy.
[ " Seconds march into the past
The moments pass
And just like that, they're gone " ]
Well. She did seem pretty good.
"I love her," Alex gushed. "Her tour's coming our way soon – psh, no way I can get tickets to that, though..." She sighed dejectedly, and with a certain admiration, then picked back up her enthusiasm. "Ah, man, Mae told me they're having the Battles of the Bands at the base of Celeste Mountain? Out on the outskirts of town. And Crash Red's gonna be the headliner. It's gonna be amazing, I bet."
"Mm," Max hummed thoughtfully, trying to be polite, though truthfully not feeling very interested. Her head was elsewhere. Which was kind of bad. Alex had really been putting up with a lot of Max's...'Max-ness,' with very little to show for it. Alex somehow seemed like a kindred spirit to Max – a sixth sense Max couldn't explain – they just had to work their way up from this awkward start.
"You okay?" Alex checked. "Sorry if I'm boring you, just...trying to break the ice, I guess. Forget about that bottle-shank psycho, and everything else going on out here lately."
"No, no, you're fine," Max insisted, trying to save face. She was feeling a little guilty for her ulterior motive in picking this spot for their lunch. She'd keep her eyes peeled, just in case, but perhaps she'd best juggle her social life a little. "Sorry, my mind...wanders a lot, and I can lose track of what's right in front of me." She laughed weakly. With some self-loathing.
"Heh, Mae said I should expect that," Alex teased.
"Did they, now?" Max sighed, scratching her brow warily. "Um, so are you two getting along well?"
"Uhh, yea! I think," Alex said with a nod and a gentle shrug. "They're not home very often, so it's kind of hard to say. It's like our home's just...this place they sleep in, and that's sorta it? So, yea. Not much quality time together. But I guess that's better than us being at each other's throats or something."
Max acknowledged this with a bob of her head. She was itching to double check her phone – try looking up Rachel on social media, see what she could find. But that would be hella rude. So. Focus! Social...things! She had to balance this against her job or she'd go crazy.
"Mae's...fun," Max cited, unsure about her own statement as soon as it popped out. "They, urh, get into a fair bit of trouble, but...-"
"But when your aunt is a cop, you get some leeway," Alex pointed out.
"Oh, ha." Max had forgotten about that. It had been years since she'd seen Mae's aunt. "Maybe," Max pondered. "But, honestly, I think that's just helped Mae learn how to fly under the radar better."
"Huh," Alex spat, brows raised. "You might be right."
"Eh, enough about Mae, though," Max decided. "What about you?"
"Me?" Alex eked with a nervous laugh through her nose. She shrugged disparagingly. "Ah, not really much to say. Still, uh, looking for work," she said, drumming her fingers – both hands – against the table. "But...I don't care about any of the jobs I've applied to."
"Mm, I know how that goes," Max sympathized. "I ended up stuck as a barista for a while when I was starting out, down at the Starfox on Blackwell campus. Not glamorous, but...you do what you have to to pay the bills."
"I guess you do," Alex agreed with a tired glaze over her eyes. "At least you had photography to lean back on, though."
Max hummed and nodded complacently. She was not at all utilizing her photography skills in a way she had even remotely intended to when she'd picked up the craft. But, well, at least she was getting to use it for good, rather than not getting to use it for much at all.
"Well, I'm sure you have something useful you picked up from Blackwell," said Max, trying to be be encouraging.
"Nnnnnnot really," Alex blankly replied. "Part of why I flunked was because I just-...Well, I couldn't decide what I even wanted to do. I still don't know." A weird sigh drizzled out of her nose as she shrugged with defeat, mumbling under her breath. "I still fucking don't..."
"Ah, w-well," Max scratched at her nose. A shrug came out as she said, "I know a thing or two about...not really knowing what to do with yourself."
"Decisions are hard," Alex blurted out with a self-deprecating chuckle.
Max, on instinct, reacted with an equally wary laugh.
"They are," she agreed.
They both nodded through sighs, gazes wandering.
"Hey, so, um-..." Max was curious. "Last night. How'd it go with Clarissa?"
"Oh," Alex replied bitterly. "It didn't go."
Max paused, absorbing the subtleties of Alex's micro expressions.
"What happened?" Max probed.
Alex's eyelids fluttered with irritation and her glance slid sideways. A shoulder popped up dismissively.
"We ran late – I mean, it was my fault, completely. But...it's not like she had anything better to be doing, she just...-" Alex shook her head, her self-deprecation turning sour. "-...blew me off, full stop, just because we were late."
"Huh," Max responded, neutrally.
"Turned us away at the door."
"Mm."
"And then, of course, I get a whole mouthful from Jonas, instead. Fucking-...If it's not one person on my ass, it's someone else..."
"Why were you late, though? The text I got last night – you met someone?"
"Oh, ha." Alex's face twinkled with warmth, briefly. "We, uh, had a detour at that dive bar you told me about?"
"Valhalla?"
"Yea. That one. People there were...-" Her eyes glazed over. "-...ehm, prrrretty cool."
Max chuckled softly through her nose.
"Sounds like you'll be going there again," Max noted.
Wiping her dumb smile from her face, Alex shrugged, but nodded.
"Yea, yea," she sighed out, drumming her fingers on the table. "You and Chloe should come with."
"Sure," Max agreed complacently. "Mm, just, uh...text me some time and we'll work out a day."
"Willll do," Alex blurted slowly. Now she was tapping her knuckles against the table to a rhythm only she could hear.
"Oh, uh, right -" Max wriggled an index finger, recalling another detail. "You mentioned a job lead you got?"
"Ha, sorta, yea," said Alex, rocking her head left and right slightly. "Some research place here in town."
"What's it called?" Max wondered.
"Errrhh...-" Alex's eyes rolled back as she fished into her pocket, retrieving her wallet. She whipped out a business and passed it across the table.
{ Olivia Calomar}
{ Software Engineer }
{ FUTUREGADGET LABS }
Max recognized the name of the company. They seemed to put out all kinds of home appliances with some kind of twist to them – from TV remotes to microwaves. But Max found it odd that they had a straight-up laboratory in the heart of Arcadia. They claimed to do all kinds of market research there, branching out into neuro-science in recent years. It was almost like the company had shifted from an interest in consumer products to legit science. When you had the money to spare...-
Max handed the card back.
"What kind of position are you applying for?"
"Oh, it's...not...exactly...-" Alex grimaced squeamishly. "I'd just be a lab rat. Basically."
Lips slightly agape, Max's head tipped up a bit before she nodded warily.
"That...sounds kinda weird," said Max bluntly, but softly.
Alex drizzled out a sigh.
"It does, but...money's money, and I...really kinda need it."
Max nodded contemplatively, the thought distracting her to her phone, and the work she had on her plate for the evening.
"Yea," agreed Max tiredly. "I know how that goes..."
\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\
"You all right in there?" Aloy asked from the bedroom, tying her damp hair into a ponytail.
After their shower together, Lena had lingered in the bathroom. It had actually been a little while, too. It made Aloy a little self-conscious – had something maybe gone wrong?
"Lena?" Aloy called when she received no reply.
"Just...giving the old gams a trim!" Lena called from behind the bathroom door.
"Oh," Aloy replied. She was shaving her legs? "I could've...helped you with that, if...-"
"Nahhh, 's all right, Luv. Can handle it myself."
Aloy shrugged, though Lena couldn't see this.
"All right," Aloy acknowledged, heading back to the bedroom of their apartment.
Aloy unwrapped her towel from her abdomen, gave her ponytail one last pat down, and chucked the towel into their laundry hamper. With a tired yawn – that had been quite a, erm, marathon they'd just had – Aloy slapped on a loose t-shirt and a comfy pair of underwear.
She sat herself down on their bed, curling herself up into a contemplative ball. Her head felt like it was practically sinking into her pillow, with how tired she was. Waiting on leads to check out, Aloy and Lena hadn't really been able to progress on the case. So. Another long day of being shoved around on patrol, separated from her partner – Lena had been tasked with fucking parking ticket duty, though she seemed cheery enough about it. But Aloy felt a bit constipated being saddled with a speeding ticket shift. Surely their energies could be better spent, right? They were getting so close to an 'in' with Los Muertos.
If Aloy could just get the Captain to let them do their jobs, unhindered,and get Lena to-...
Aloy popped her eyes open, realizing she was drifting off. Her eyesight focused on the nightstand in front of her – Lena's side of the bed. Contact lenses, an empty glass (previously full of milk), her cell phone, a framed photo of her and some chunky lad Aloy didn't know ('one of my best mates,' Lena had said, vaguely), and...Lena's medallion.
Oh, huh. Lena always wore that thing around her neck, sometimes even pinning it to her shirt or vest. Aloy found herself realizing that Lena rarely took the thing off and always took it with her. It really meant a lot to her, apparently, but whenever Aloy asked about the medallion, she'd get indirect answers.
'My good luck charm,' Lena had taken to calling it.
But Aloy knew there had to be more to it than that. Any kind of charm – anything a person would wear so religiously – had to come with some kind of meaning. Even Aloy's bluetooth ear piece had significant meaning to her. She'd rather get it repaired than just buy a new one. Even if things with her and her mother were, well, 'distant,' one might say, Aloy still savored wearing something that helped her feel connected to her mother. And, well, literally connected to others. Her mother had built the device herself, and all. It was precious, one of a kind.
But it was still a device. It served a practical purpose.
This medallion? Just an impractical decoration, wasn't it? There had to be meaning behind why Lena wore it everywhere she went.
Aloy scooted herself over the side of the bed and picked the necklace up.
Aloy was mesmerized by the piece of metal. Maybe half a foot in diameter, it was a sizeable chunk of jewelry to lug around everywhere. Yet Aloy had never gotten such a close look at it – Lena typically would hide it away if anyone tried fussing with it. It was amazingly thin and light, like a small CD, yet unbendable. Sturdy. A black disc with metallic, light blue shapes embossed over it in ring-like patterns.. The backside had an inscription etched into it, one Aloy had never seen before:
{ Imagination is
the essence
of discovery. }
Huh.
Aloy's fingers started to get a bit sore from holding the thing. Almost like an allergic reaction. But she found herself strangely entranced by the object. Almost as if it-
"Whatcha lookin' at?"
"Guh-!"
Lena had blurted the question right into Aloy's ear, and Aloy had been startled by Lena's sudden appearance. In her shock, she fumbled the medallion around, dropping it to the floor – only it didn't land on the floor. Lena had swiftly lunged over the side of the bed, catching the piece by its tether.
"Bugger," Lena huffed through clenched teeth, tumbling off the bed. She scrambled the medallion abreast as she rolled over onto her back. She protected the thing like it was her child, though it had pretty sturdy in Aloy's grasp.
Sprawling out onto the floor, Lena's eyes went fiery at Aloy.
"Wh-What're ya doing, poking 'round my stuff, A?" Lena demanded, her tone jarringly sharp.
Aloy wiped her ponytail back over her shoulders and shrugged, aghast at this reaction.
"It was on the nightstand, I was just-"
"That's not an invitation to get all grabby with my things."
Lena looked 'proper pissed' as she pulled herself up from the floor. She slipped the medallion around her neck, then realigned her bra with a huff.
"Shouldn't mess about with stuff that isn't yours," Lena grumbled, fidgeting with her necklace. She looked like a child whose treehouse had been peered into.
The hell was her problem, all of a sudden? What was so special about some trinket, some 'good luck charm?' Back when they'd just been police partners, strictly, these kinds of things had never come up – Lena seemed quite keen on hiding her past. But now that they were dating, living together, it was becoming more and more of an obstacle. Aloy tried to be an open book about her complicated history, little as she understood it. Still, it wasn't the right time for her to rock the boat too fiercely – not when their day job was still such a stressor. And the more Aloy pondered on it, the more she realized she wasn't as forthcoming with people as she could be...like with their impending dinner meet-up, for example...
"Sorry," Aloy said. "I didn't...realize your jewelry was so important to you. I didn't mean to...-"
"It not...-!" Lena burst out, stopping herself. She closed her eyes and took a breath. "Just...-" Lena shaved the edge off of her tone. She sighed, running her fingertip across the grooves in her medallion. She mumbled dejectedly, "Don't like you snooping through my personal bits, is all."
Aloy snorted a small laugh.
"What?" Lena pouted.
Smirking, Aloy crawled over, head on Lena's shoulder. She murmured slyly, "Your 'personal bits?' I distinctly remember you feeling differently not too long ago..." Aloy tickled her fingers against the sides of Lena's ribs, and the two chuckled a bit as Lena wriggled herself out.
"Oi, come off it," Lena said between laughs. As they stopped, she sighed out, "You know what I meant..."
Lena glanced down on her shoulder at Aloy. Head leaned sideways, copper hair tumbling down, hazel eyes peeking up with inquisition...the sight of Aloy's vulnerable curiosity made Lena tingle.
Aloy teased quietly, mimicking Lena's accent, "Jus' tryin' ta lighten the mood, tho, in'it?"
By 'mimicking,' it was more like...a mess of intonation.
"A-pffff," Lena laughed, shrugging Aloy off. "The bloody hell kind of accent was that?"
"You tell me," Aloy said with a meek, self-humored shrug. "Luv."
Smirking wryly, Lena posed, "Oh, you mocking me, now? That it, then? That's your play?"
Aloy was sprawled halfway on the bed, her legs hanging off. Looking up at Lena, she narrowed her eyes, smiling a tight-lipped smile. She lifted and lowered her brows.
"Depends," Aloy replied. "Is it a play that'll win?"
"Cheeky," Lena taunted. She breathed out tiredly but pleasantly, rubbing her hand across Aloy's stomach. Above the shirt. Then under the shirt.
And before she realized it, they were pressed together, making out again. Which was pretty fine, so far as Lena was concerned. They'd inadvertently bumped their foreheads into each other while maneuvering their kissing, which had broken the moment into a snicker fit.
Aloy rolled off onto her back, and Lena rested her head against Aloy's stomach, curling up and clasping her medallion.
Why couldn't she get Aloy to laugh and smile like this more often anymore? It was like...all of this tension had built up between them over time, and when Lena had finally mustered the courage to ask her out – and they'd fumbled haphazardly through the bullocks of a mess that had been – they'd come out the other side just...not as happy as Lena would've thought.
She'd been so excited to move in together, to finally have 'that' kind of person again, after so long. Only it hadn't been going quite as she would've liked. Or expected. And unlike other things Lena could write off as mistakes, things to fix, to correct, this...wasn't like that.
It was work.
And Lena was not used to that.
But she wanted to figure out where it led.
"Uhh...So, A." Lena swallowed, staring at the way Aloy's feet were rocking left and right at the edge of the bed.
"Yea?"
"I do something wrong?"
A pause.
"Wait, what?" Aloy shuffled around, sitting up and easing Lena to roll over. Now looking up at Aloy's concerned face, Lena had a pinch of regret in bringing this up. "What do you mean?" Aloy pressed, when Lena avoided her piercing gaze of concern.
"Ah, only you've been kinda...not...happy? Lately?" Lena noted, her eyes stealing a quick look at Aloy, only to dart right back away. "Sorta lines up with, ya know, when I...moved in?"
A heavy quiet hung over the pair as Lena sighed warily.
"Oh. Wh-whoa, hey," Aloy eased, running her head across Lena's head. "No, that's just...the job, this case Amari has us on."
"Fat lotta good I seem to be doing," puffed Lena bitterly. She ran her thumb across her medallion, its metal touch soothing against her chest. "I just wonder, A, like...if you could go back – to when you were done in Meridian, came back 'round here – would you do anything differently? Undo any mistakes?"
Aloy took a moment to process this. Lena's glance shifted toward her, observing the way Aloy's brows lowered, the way she pushed stray braids of copper back over her shoulders.
"What's this really about?" Aloy asked directly.
Lena sighed, shaking her head slightly at her attempt to ask such an odd question.
"You were demoted because of me," Lena cited tiredly. "And it doesn't really seem like you've been too thrilled about that recently."
Aloy's lips went to form words, her head shook a little, but she paused. She took a deep breath, sighing through her nose.
"I mean, we were...maybe a bit hasty," Aloy conceded, quickly adding, "but it's not you, it's...-" She huffed, wriggling her hands around her. "-...it's everything else."
"Oh, wow," Lena grunted, "You really using that one, are you? The 'it's not you, it's me' thing? Come off it," she sighed out.
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" Aloy sharply asked. She said it in that calm, thoughtful way she did. It normally helped reign Lena back down to earth, but...-
"We just...-?" Lena paused, chewed her lip a little, and shook her head slightly. "We just stumbling 'round? Whichever way's forward? 'Cause I want you to be happy, A, not...just...carrying on."
"Lena," Aloy said quietly. She scratched her nails through her taut hair, dropping her hand to her side.
Lena had more thoughts to shove out.
"Only I look at your past, and how you are now, and-...and it just feels sometimes like you'll get bored of me, move on, like you did the others."
Aloy winced at this, rubbing her palm over her eyes.
"Look," Aloy said plainly, "I like you."
"You liked them, too," Lena defensively muttered, her fears sliding right out of her lips.
"What do you want me to say? I can't...guarantee how the future is going to play out," Aloy groaned with a sharp shrug.
"What if you could?" Lena posed quietly, her fingertip sliding clockwise around her medallion's edge. "What if you knew we weren't gonna work out? Would you still have said 'yes' in the first place?"
Aloy rolled her eyes, her head shifting impatiently. She didn't like these theoretical, hypothetical questions. Aloy was a woman of facts, truth, evidence, what was in front of her, what made sense. Lena knew that.
And Lena needed that sometimes.
Especially when she was tempted to go to places she wasn't supposed to.
"I would have," Aloy decided. "I mean, just because something – or someone – doesn't go the way you think it will, that doesn't mean you can't learn from it. It doesn't just...make everything that happened pointless. My old partners? I'm still friends with them. And, I mean, even if I wasn't, they still helped me grow as a person. I could take your question and apply it to my family. Would have I spent any less time with them had I known how things would work out? No. I would've just...-" She ran her hand through Lena's hair. "-...appreciated the present – the time I had, when I had it – even more, I think."
Gah. Bugger.
Aloy knew just what to say to get Lena back where she ought to be.
"I know I've been difficult," Aloy offered. "Maybe we should've taken it slower, I-...I couldn't say. It doesn't matter, either way. We are where we are. Do not go thinking I regret choosing this – choosing you. Because I don't. When I make a decision, it's one I won't regret later."
"Pah-!" Lena laughed in spite of herself. "Least one of us does, then. Could ya teach me? 'Cause I am rubbish with that stuff."
"Heh. I would've figured the academy training would've already gotten you there," Aloy mused, "but when you mention it, you do seem to fly head-long into things..."
"Ah, yea, I, urh...-" Lena wasn't quite sure how to phrase her reply, dodging Aloy's implication about 'training.' "Well, it takes all sorts, though, doesn't it?"
"It does," Aloy agreed with a serene warmth.
\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\
Aloy looked pretty tense. Tight. Lena could see it in the woman's jaws, in her neck muscles.
"It's all right, Luv," Lena assured gently, giving Aloy's knee a jolly little rub of encouragement. "It'll be fine, it'll be smashing!"
"Y-Yea, I know," Aloy agreed, trying to trim the shakiness off of her tone.
"What's with all the fussing? Supposed to be all iron-like, aren't we?"
"Been...a long week, is all, I just...-" Aloy bobbed her head, and Lena could see those lovely little eyes flicker with doubt. "Getting a little worn out of keeping up appearances. Like...my armor's being chipped away by all these...fucking reminders of what a screw-up I am, and...-" Aloy sighed a nervous laugh, her breath quivering. She rubbed at her eyes a little and sniffed, trying to stop tears before they started.
Lena could feel her own chest freeze up with empathy and understanding.
But they had to keep moving forward. Aloy motivated Lena to move forward in a way no one else had in quite some time.
Lena ran her hand through Aloy's brushed hair, leaned across the car seat, and gave Aloy a tender kiss on the cheek. She lingered, head pressed against Aloy's.
"You're not a screw-up, A," Lena insisted softly.
"Sure feels like it," Aloy panted, her breath getting unsteady.
"It's rough stuff right now," Lena acknowledged. "It is. And we'll sort it out." She continued to run her fingers against the edges of Aloy's copper mane. She waited for the woman to calm down a little. It was understandable – lots of stress going round, and Amari had not been too keen with them as of late. Must've really rattled Aloy a bit.
Lena? Well, Lena was used to making mistakes.
And then, you know...dancing around them, dodging them.
Undoing them.
"But right now?" Lena tilted her head low, trying to make eye contact as she ran her fingers from Aloy's hair to her cheek. "Let's just try n'...have a good time with your mates, yea?"
Aloy sucked in a deep breath, exhaling loudly, but calmly.
"Thanks," Aloy mumbled, giving Lena's hand a squeeze. It was her turn to lean over for a kiss – on the lips, this time. "Wow," Aloy grumbled, rubbing her eyes dry. "Haven't done that in a while."
"What, kissed?"
"Cried," said Aloy with a sheepish, pink-cheeked smile. "Not very 'officer-like,' is it?"
"Awh, agh, sappy, sappy," said Lena, dismissing the thought. "Human beings and all, right? Gotta let that stuff out now n' again."
"Yea, but...the Captain's not been too happy with how we...-"
Aloy's phone buzzed, throwing her sentence off track as she checked it immediately.
"They're here," Aloy murmured.
Lena rubbed her partner's back a little as a reply was sent.
"We just got here, too, period. Meet you out front, period."
A, she sure loved talking to her tech, huh?
"All right," Aloy huffed, ready to exit the car. "Let's...introduce you. I guess."
As they exited the car, Aloy scanned the parking lot of the fast-food joint. She waved toward a man getting out of a car across the lot from them.
"Whew, Big Bang Burger, huh?" said the man, slamming passenger door shut. "Haven't been to one of these in a while..."
Dressed in a thick brown coat, unzipped enough to reveal an orange ascot, he had on baggy jeans and heavy working boots. The man also had a mutton-chops beard and a double undercut hairdo – shaved right down to the skin, yeep. He was a sturdy looking chap, though. Strong nose, stronger chin, but soft eyes. Lena couldn't make sense of it until she noticed how soft his eyes were. Had to have been what had Aloy's interest in the first place, eh?
"We don't even have these in Meridian," mused the man's traveling companion. The woman locked up the car and looked up at the restaurant's sign. She tucked her hands into her tall, flowing black coat. She was wearing a shiny maroon necktie – could see it peeking up between the popped collar. Black slacks and low-heeled boots beneath.
She had wide, inviting eyes, a flat, tall nose, big lips, and soft features. Those eyes, though...A golden brown color, big and warm, but something very sharp beneath. That sharpness came through in her expressions, her body language. Warm, friendly, but also fierce. Lena could see the appeal.
"Heh," the man grinned at his travel companion and gave her shoulder a bump with his fist. "You even allowed to eat this stuff?"
She lowered her eyelids at him and smirked.
"I'm 'allowed' to eat whatever the hell I want," she retorted, to which he flashed up his palms, smiling in jest.
"Oh," Aloy blurted squeamishly. "Should we not-...? I didn't think about-..."
Was kind of adorable seeing her all awkward for a change.
"Been trying to lay off the junk food," Lena jumped in, "but Aloy says you lot have some history here?"
"Sure do," agreed the mutton-chopped man, hands braced on his hips as he stared up at the neon-lit sign. It portrayed a cartoonish hamburger with a face. Kinda creepy, actually, the longer Lena looked at it.
"Our unit used to come here for get-togethers all the time," explained the woman.
"Heh," chuckled the man with a nostalgic sniff. He muttered to Aloy, "Still remember the first time you and I-...erh-..." He trailed off, his eyes snapping wide for a sec before darting elsewhere.
"Yeaaa, old times," Aloy blurted with a forced laugh that...was not her. "I'll go, uh, get us a table," Aloy spat out suddenly. Nodding with a nervous sound, she stumbled her way to the front door.
The trio was left with in a moment of odd, bemused silence.
Squinting off at Aloy, the man noted, "She, uh-...She knows it's a fast food joint. Right?"
"Nice one," taunted the woman, giving the man a shove. "Barely a minute back and you've already driven her off again."
"Gah," the man huffed, shrugging the odd moment away. "Guess I always did have a knack for that."
"Ah, naw," Lena assured. "She's always seemed proper pleased to have known you. She's...just a bit rattled, is all," Lena assured. "Been in a rough spot this week."
"She forgot to introduce us," the woman noted with a bewildered glance off to Aloy, slipping into the restaurant.
The man shrugged, citing, "Eh, we can probably take care of that ourselves, right? It's not like we don't...know who each other are, anyway. Keep it casual, you know?"
"With the week we have ahead of us," grumbled the woman, "I could use 'casual.'"
"Brilliant," said Lena, sticking out an energetic arm. "Name's Lena Oxton! And you must be Erend."
"I hope I am," jested the man, accepting Lena's grip. Lena eagerly took it, and shook, jostling him around a bit. "Erend Oseram," he clarified through a soft chuckle. "Quite a-...Wow. Bit of a handshake, you've got."
Lena grinned as she jabbed said hand hand toward the woman, who paused with hesitation and an amused glance.
"Talanah Khane-Padish," she introduced, gripping Lena's hand tightly and holding it firm when Lena tried to shake things up. "So. You're this 'Tracer' I've heard about, huh?" Lena could tell the woman was sizing her up. "Able to track down a target no matter how faint the trail?"
"Aye-aye, that's me," Lena said with a beaming smile. "Got a reputation, do I?"
"In certain circles," Talanah said with a wry smirk. Damn, Lena couldn't get a good read on what she was thinking when she said it like that.
"Speaking of reputation," Erend put out, lowering his voice a bit. "what's this about Aloy getting demoted, anyway?"
"Wh-what?"
Lena's chest went ice-cold with fret at being confronted with such a question. These were Aloy's old chums, and such things weren't Lena's business to blab, right? Couldn't go scolding her girlfriend about that stuff and then go gossiping.
"I mean," Erend frowned a bit, "after everything she did for us, just to get knocked back down a peg? It doesn't make sense, does it?"
Lena shrugged sheepishly, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Had Aloy not...told them?
Bullox.
"I, urh...-"
"Hey, what happened to 'casual?'" posed Talanah, giving Erend a brusque shoulder shove as she waved out to Aloy, who was beckoning them in. She concluded the matter quietly with, "If you're so curious, why not ask her yourself?"
"Y-yea, probably best," Lena murmured, trying to stern-up her expression mid-nod.
"Pff," Talanah laughed softly. As they approached the front door, she mused to Lena, "Gotta admit, you are not at all what I expected..."
"Eh?" Lena was pricked by the remark. What did that mean?
Aloy opened the glass door for them, leaning against it with a nod. Her arms were crossed around her chest, her chin tipped unnaturally high.
"Hah, just like old times, right?" she breathed out, letting them all enter.
"Think I still have the guts to take the Challenge?" Erend postured to Aloy as they went inside.
"Oh, shit," Talanah burst out through a chuckle, shaking her head. "I forgotyou did that."
"Wow, yea. That was a long time ago," Aloy recalled, letting the door close behind her. Lena admired the way her expression relaxed, if only briefly, into a nostalgic glow.
"Huh, wonder if they still have my photo on the wall," said Erend in a mumble, tilting his head around the corner as they reached the reception counter.
"Challenge?" Lena prodded.
"One of those time-limit eating-endurance things," Talanah explained. "Bunch of machismo bullshit if you ask me, but...-" She shrugged it off. "Everything can and will be a sport, for those who make it so..."
"Welcome to Big Bang Burger," greeted the girl at the front counter, "open twenty-four hours a day because there's no day or night in space!" Everyone gestured and blurted out their greetings. The worker added, "We're now offering a limited edition seasonal item: the Moon Burger!"
"Hey, so, uh," Erend jumped in, "you still do the Challenge here?"
"Oh, here he goes," Talanah said with a smirk and an eyeroll. She nudged Lena with an elbow, and Lena glowed at the nonchalant moment of comradery.
"We certainly do!" replied the worker, straightening her visor. "Have you taken the Challenge before?"
"Hell yes, I have," Erend said, tilting his head with a child-like smugness. "Reached 'Captain' rank back in the day." Jovially bragging, he added hesitantly, "I, uh, ya know, I don't have my pin on me, though."
"Ohhhhh-kay, down, boy," Aloy said, nudging Erend back a bit. "We're just here to catch up, not...take down a burger beast."
"Eh," Erend shrugged. "Truth be told, I don't think my blood pressure could handle that much grease anymore, anyway."
"That's fine," Talanah ribbed. "Now get that chip off your shoulder and let's order something."
"All right, all right," sighed Erend. "Gotta keep it 'casual.'"
The group went about ordering their meals, and Aloy ended up whisking herself away to the loo, leaving Lena alone with the lot. Again.
They took their seats at the booth Aloy had picked out, and Talanah took out her phone.
She quietly advised her companion, "Wilhelm's got you starting bright and early tomorrow with the EOD class."
"Offff course he does," Erend muttered. "And I bet you've got the juicy midday slot with Amari Jr.?"
"That I do," Talanah bragged nonchalantly.
Amused, Lena pointed out, "Fff, better not call Fareeha 'Jr.' or she'll duff you right up."
"You're probably right," said Erend. "Uh. I mean, assuming that means what I think it means."
Lena smiled wryly at him and clarified, "She'll beat the daylights outta ya."
Jaw slightly agape, Erend nodded, mumbling, "Yehp, yeh, thought so."
"Not going to lie," said Talanah, "it feels pretty good to be considered Pharah's equal."
"You are," Erend insisted.
"Oi, 'Pharah?'" Lena poked. "So you know her, then."
'Pharah' had become a nickname Fareeha had assumed with her mates and co-workers from her early days on the force.
"To be frank," said Talanah, "I wouldn't be surprised if she's not with the APD come this time next year."
"Why's that?" asked Lena, roused with concerned curiosity.
"Politics," Erend said simply. "Trust me, you'd be better off not knowing."
Talanah considered, "I would tell you to keep that on the down-low, but...it's not like her mother would be upset to hear such a thing."
"Agh, yea," Lena recalled, "the Captain would be quite chuffed over something like that, eh?"
"It's just what I picked from the grape vine," Talanah said dismissively. "Don't stoke that fire, just...-" She bobbed her head a bit, clearly conflicted over what to say. "Don't be surprised if your department sees some big changes in the new year."
"That why they have you training folks here?" Lena assumed, prodding in to start more conversation. "Getting chaps lined up to fill new shoes, or something?"
"Ah, not exactly," Erend acknowledged. "After everything our precinct dealt with this spring, Morrisson wanted us to do a little Homecoming dance, here. Refresh your crew on what's what. You know. Just in case."
"When they scheduled us," Talanah cited, "I thought it was just some jittery overreacting, but...-" She shrugged, shaking her head solemnly. "Seeing as Arcadia's had that string of bombings lately, now I kind of wish they'd squeezed us in earlier."
"Huh," Lena spat thoughtfully. Was true, some folks had died. Whole point of their sort was to stop that happening. "You thinking what happened in Meridian could repeat itself over here?"
"Mmm," Talanah squinted doubtfully. "Not exactly, but...since we still haven't figured out the root cause, there's no telling. Could turn into a national security thing if we're not careful."
"Bloody hell, it better not," Lena groaned, finding herself wondering about her own place in what was beginning to feel like a bigger puzzle.
Aloy finally returned from the lavatory, overhearing the last piece.
"What had 'better not,' now?" she tried to slide into the conversation, taking her seat beside Lena.
Lena scooted her hip to press into Aloy's, happy to have her here, finally.
"We're just talking shop," Erend dismissed. "Terrible idea, really."
"Ha, maybe," Aloy conceded. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about you two. So, erh, Talanah, we'll start with you – how are you holding up?"
"More like holding on," Talanah replied warily.
"Well, that sounds no good," Lena jumped in. "Thought things were on the mend out there. What's the problem?"
"Ahsis, the highest ranking assh-...officer in my department -" Her eyes flickered slyly with a smirk. "-...he, erh, well, he's being a real pain again. Like a thorn that's wedged in so deep, I can't get it out."
"Pff," scoffed Aloy."Now that I'm not around to call him out on his bullshit, I bet he's doubled down on you."
"Yea, maybe so," said Talanah, lifting her brows knowingly. "We've got enough problems, but you know him."
"I'm, uh, I'm sorry," Aloy mumbled with a sudden bout of sympathy. "You'd think after we dealt with Helis, he'd finally give you some credit."
Helis, Helis...name was awful familiar. Ah, right. The wanker who'd set off the whole HADES bit. Proper loon, in the worst way. Aloy had apprehended the bastard herself, way Lena had heard it. Was what had gotten her so many accolades and all that. Well. On top of the rest, anyway.
"Tch," scoffed Talanah with a warm smile, "I think I can handle Ahsis. I've dealt with much worse. Don't you worry about me, Aloy."
"All right, then, I won't," Aloy replied with an equally glowing, relaxed tone.
"Man," mused Erend, "Crazy, isn't it? To look back. You two really rattled up the department in your time, huh? Quite the dynamic duo." He turned to Lena, nodding with raised brows. "Shoulda seen them a year ago. Whole department functions differently because of these ladies. Right here." He waggled his finger from Aloy to Talanah, back and forth.
"Made those chauvinistic pricks think twice about underestimating us," Talanah said with a prideful gleam.
"How'd you do that?" Lena wondered.
"Well," said Aloy, "for a start, we took down 'Redmaw.'"
"'Redmaw?'" Lena felt like the name was familiar, but...not a bell rung.
"I didn't tell you about that?" muttered Aloy, aghast with herself as Lena shrugged and shook her head.
"You didn't tell her about that?" Talanah repeated, equally surprised. "We were the talk of the town after we caught that scumbag. Ahsis was so pissed, he'd had his sights set on him for ages."
Erend leaned over his side of the table to 'subtley' explain to Lena, "'Redmaw,' see, he was a real sadistic sack o' shit, taking out cops to keep his 'Red Ice' ring afloat."
Alarmed that Aloy had been mixed up in something so dire, Lena's head pulled back slightly, her lips crooked, her eyes wide.
"Oh," she blurted.
"It was all...right before the HADES Incident," Aloy recollected thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "That's probably why it slipped my mind."
"Mmm," Lena nodded, scratching an itch on her arm. "Sounds like Meridian was a whole mess, though. A bloody jungle out there, how I've heard it."
The trio of them all chuckled, nodded, devolving into wary sighs...Yikes. It had sounded bad, all what had gone down in Meridian, but Lena hadn't quite thought it really was that bad. Assumed the media were all making a fuss of things.
"It still sort of is a 'bloody mess,'" Erend mumbled, "Literally. The Glinthawks haven't loosened their grip on the east side, and with Helis out of the picture, there's squabbling for control. A new shootout every damn week, feels like. The north is still getting power back online...With Redmaw out of the picture, the Fireclaws are trying to fill that void." He flicked up his wrist, his eyes losing focus. "The turf war might be over, but...try telling that to these pricks..."
"Avad can't keep up with it all," Talanah noted. "He's trying, but...-" She trailed off with a frustrated sigh.
"Avad?" Lena asked. "That the Mayor over there?" She remembered getting well acquainted with his face on the news when the HADES Incident was going on.
Aloy nodded, adding, "He's, uh, he's the one who kind of...made sure I got promoted."
"I think he figured you'd be sticking around to help with the fallout," said Erend.
"I think he thought he had a chance with you," Talanah more slyly pondered.
Aloy's eyes shifted awkwardly, but her cheeks got a bit pink. Bloody hell,seemed like Lena was in good company in the Aloy Appreciation Club, eh?
"You didn't...-" Lena murmured suspiciously at her partner.
Aloy's face wrinkled with disbelieving irritation, just for a flash, and she shook her head wildly.
Ah, OK. Well. Good.
"Well, either way," Aloy blew off the remark, "it made sense at the time – promoting me. People were looking up to me, and...I'd thought I might...stay there, continue building what we'd started."
Talanah said with a spark in her eye, nodding to Aloy, "Way things are now? I wish you had. No offense, Oxton."
"None taken," said Lena. Nudging Aloy, she cited, "She's brilliant."
"Well," said Aloy, "Meridian really took the wind out of me, and I needed to come back home, find my bearings. And, uh-...Heh." Aloy shrugged with a nervous smile, patting Lena on the shoulder. "I'm...kind of needed in Arcadia, anyway."
Lena smiled back and leaned in slightly, rubbing her shoulder against her partner's.
"Oh, yea," said Erend. "Been hearing about those cyber-attacks out here, seem tied to the bombings? The hell is up with that? Way Wilhelm says it, Arcadia's crime rates are through the goddamn roof this year."
Aloy and Lena both nodded solemnly, shrugging indecisively.
Lena lamented, "Not sure if it's terrorists, a turf war of our own, or what." She sighed, lifting her glasses with her wrist as she scratched an inch on her nose. "I just hope it doesn't all go to pot like it did for you." She straightened her glasses, mumbling, "Sure feels like we're in for a right kerfuffle soon, though, isn't it?"
Erend's eyes narrowed at her, and mumbled facetiously to Aloy, "What language was that in? Can you translate?"
"Cheeky bligh-uh," Lena blurted, thickening on an accent for his amusement. Scoffing playfully, she cited, "I said I'm worried 'bout the future..."
Pleased with getting her riled up, Erend eased up his palms defensively.
"Well, whatever way you want to say it," Aloy realigned the convo, "it seems like we could be in for a situation as bad as HADES if we don't nip it in the bud."
"It's like trouble just follows you wherever you go," Talanah teased Aloy.
"Ain't that the truth?" Erend chuckled.
"Yea," Aloy bashfully agreed, and the trio had a laugh.
"More like she follows trouble where it goes," said Lena, trying to be a part of the moment. "You lot already had her heroic services, now it's our turn to have a go with her." She rubbed her hand against Aloy's thigh. But when she turned to look at her partner, she saw a flicker of doubt – of sorrow, of something sad. Whatever she had seen in Aloy back in the car, that same expression.
At this, Lena wriggled her hand to Aloy's, and squeezed it beneath the table. They exchanged looks, and Lena's concern seemed to melt the frost that had been forming over Aloy's expression.
"Like I said," Aloy murmured, "I'm needed over here."
Erend sighed, scoffing out, "Fff, lotta good you're probably doing with all that low-level crap they must be keeping you stuck in."
"What?" Aloy was a bit irked.
"Ahh," Lena blurted, keen to avoid the subject. "Situation's tense right now. Waiting for the right moment, you know? So they're keeping us proper busy with the humdrum stuff."
"I bet they are," said Erend, "So busy, in fact, you don't have any opportunities to push your career forward. I remember how they treated you ladies back when I was posted here. Anyone who wasn't an Arcadian native got the short end of the stick."
"Eh, it's...-" Lena scratched her neck warily. "It's not quite like that anymore, but...-"
"I haven't exactly been lighting Arcadia on fire like I did Meridian," Aloy grumbled with a shrug. "So, I mean...-" She trailed off, then sighed through her nose with that bitterness she'd been wearing so often.
"To be fair," Talanah added her piece, "folks in Meridian seemed eager to set you up for success, whereas...-" Her eyes slid sideways and she shrugged. "I mean, it does sound like someone in your department is trying to hold you back."
"Eh," Lena objected cautiously, "Captain Amari's just trying to keep us from getting neck-deep in the muck. Lotta bad stuff going on lately, so...-
"I guess I can't speak on your behalf," said Talanah, "but I've seen this woman in action." She tipped her chin to Aloy. "Neck-deep in danger is where she shines."
Erend gestured out his hands as he recalled, "Avad gave Chief Morrison a recommendation so glowing you'd swear it was made of...fucking sunlight." He let his hands drop to the table. "And yet. Here you are." He let his head bob as Aloy took in his look of disappointment. "Running parking tickets, catching speeders, and telling the neighbors to 'keep it down.'"
"Wh-...!" Aloy puffed, flustered. "I'm...doing more than that, I-"
"Uh, yea?" Erend taunted with a sigh. "And yesterday? What'd they have you up to yesterday?"
Lena laughed through her nose, her lips curling with dissatisfaction.
Aloy opened her mouth, but hesitated.
Lena had been on parking tickets, and Aloy had been on speeding tickets.
"Well, we...-" Aloy began, treading water. Barely.
"Yea," Erend grunted with a shake of his head. "Nora, you've got bigger and better things to be doing with your life. I know it. She knows it," he nodded to Talanah, who agreed, "and I bet this one knows it." He thumbed to Lena, who swallowed the tension in her throat, smiling awkwardly as she straightened her glasses.
"I've been-...We've got a case we're helping with," Aloy pointed out. "There's just-...We're waiting on...-" She gave up with an irritable sigh. "Well, we can't talk about it, anyway, so, just...-"
"I think what Erend is trying to get at," Talanah said, "is that we're a little confused as to how someone who made such a difference over in our town suddenly gets treated like just another beat-cop when she comes back home."
"You got a demotion," Erend reminded with some disbelief. "Aloy-friggin'-Nora, demoted, a month back on the beat. You should be a Detective - hell, a Lieutenant - after everything you did."
"You saved lives," Talanah pointed out.
"I had help," Aloy dismissed the accolade-talk. "I was just...reacting to what got thrown in front of me, it...-" She trailed off, crossing her arms. "All I've done since I've come back home is fuck everything up, so-...I mean, what do you expect?"
Aloy was rubbing at her temple, absorbing the pushy opinions of her past peers.
Lena's insides were boiling with remorse and frustration.
"It's my fault," Lena blurted.
A pause. It grew heavier quite rapidly.
"Aloy's demotion," Lena slowly specified. "It's on account of me."
Lena could feel her eyes getting damp. Her glasses might fog up if she wasn't careful.
"Uh...-" Aloy was a bit speechless, but Lena couldn't look her in the eyes. "Whoa. Lena, no. That's...-" Aloy grabbed Lena's hand and squeezed. "No."
That squeeze meant everything.
Lena chuckled nervously, sheepishly, a swell bursting into her chest – relief, embarrassment, fondness.
"Whuh-...?" Erend was baffled. "What's she talkin' about?"
Rubbing at her eyes, Lena realigned her glasses, sighing shakily as she recomposed herself. She held Aloy's strong grip within her own, savoring it.
Aloy's face wrinkled awkwardly, and she shook her head a little.
"I, uh-..." She cleared her throat.
Lena was a bit gobsmacked by Talanah's sly-eyed smirk shot her way. She knew, eh?
"Sorry," Lena panted beneath her breath, her head sagging. Wiping at her glasses, she sighed. "Didn't mean to...drag this out, I just...-"
"You're fine," Aloy insisted, smoothing Lena's thigh over beneath the table. "Look, so...-" She tightened her wrists in front of her before letting them drop into her lap. "Captain Amari wasn't satisfied with what I was doing when I first came back. Lena was under my wing and we went in for a narcotics bust – I made a bad call, and th-"
"I cocked it all up," Lena tried to interject.
"I made a bad. call," Aloy insisted, pushing on. "Caused a whole mess. We had started, uh...-"
"We were connecting," Lena tossed out. "I'd asked her out the night before."
"We hadn't decided on anything."
"I had," said Lena. "'N I got so distracted by that, the op got buggered. Some Nightwing buggers got away."
"No, that-...A-Anyway, it drew attention to us, and...when Amari found out we were even thinking about, like...-" Aloy circled her hands around one another.
Lena concluded, "The Cap'n said Aloy had to take a step down, or we had to stop working together."
Aloy sighed with an acknowledging shrug.
Talanah nodded, tight-lipped. Lena could tell – she'd known already.
Erend, though, lad looked a tad gob-smacked, he did.
"So you took the demotion," Erend realized, aghast.
"Aaand, yea," Lena puffed irritably, not liking the glint of judgment Aloy's friend had as he looked her way. "So, there it is, you can stop badgering her 'bout it now. Blame me for it, get off her case, yea?"
"Huh." Erend's flash of doubt dissolved as he nodded, still staring at Lena. Rubbing his chin with his thumb, his tone quickly turned to approval. "I didn't, erh, mean to kick up dirt over it, but...thanks for explaining it to me." He shot Aloy a glint-eyed nod. "Well, good. You made the call on your own terms. You took something for yourself, for a change. That's good. I'd say you've earned that much."
"Here, here," agreed Talanah.
"Uh, thanks," said Aloy with an uncertain shrug. She pinched at Lena's shoulder, scratching her nails against Lena's back briefly. "And whuh-...So, what about you? Erend?"
"Enh?"
"How are you holding up? Since, uh...what happened with your sister."
Lena sensed a dark fog creep up on the conversation. Were easy enough to feel it with the way Aloy's tone had changed. That look about her – was the same look she had when she talked about her dad.
"Ah," Erend sighed, running a hand across his head. "Well, we're...still a bit torn up over Ersa."
"Mm," Aloy paused thoughtfully. "I'm, uh...sorry, Erend. She was a strong woman."
"That she was," Erend breathed out.
"Her memorial's coming up soon," Talanah raised. "Whole department's gonna pitch in for the Osarams, take some kind of weight off their backs."
"Do your parents still...-" Aloy reworked her question after some hesitation. "Are they still being weird about it?"
"Eh, it comes and goes," Erend said. "Can't blame 'em. Some days all the pressure gets to me, and I think about just...quitting, you know? I didn't ask for all of this fallout, all of this crazy shit. But I was the one pushing to rank up, all the same. Ersa told me, when they turned me down for promotion, she told me to go with my gut. If people thought I couldn't do something, that I wasn't good enough, but my gut said they were wrong? That I should prove 'em wrong. Stick with it, you know?"
Talanah's head bobbed up and down in approval.
"I remember she told us that, too," said Aloy, exchanging a glance with Talanah.
"But she also told me to grow up," Erend confessed. "Got to admit, it burned a little when she said it. But I'm trying to take it to heart. And I guess growing up means putting what you should do in front of what you want to do...right?"
"You're asking me?" Aloy scoffed. She smiled sheepishly at Lena, then shrugged back at Erend."I'm pretty sure you're older."
"Yea, but...I don't act like it, do I?" Erend conceded this with a hint of discouragement.
"You did during the Incident," said Aloy. "You did with Helis."
"Don't give me too much credit. Part of me still wants to wait for a quiet moment and wring his neck."
"Yea," Aloy said. "But you won't. Because you're a good Captain."
"Come on, stop..." Erend smiled in a weird way, avoiding everyone's eyes. "You're gonna make me tear up."
"Hey. I know something that ought to lift your spirits," Aloy decided, getting up.
"Oh, yea?" wondered Erend.
Lena got up, herself, sort of on instinct. She watched Aloy and Talanah swap knowing looks.
Talanah replied, "She's gonna track down that damn photo of you winning the eating challenge."
Erend chuckled, tapping his palm against the table.
"Ah, yehp. That would help me feel a bit better, wouldn't it?"
Aloy headed across the restaurant to the photo wall.
"So," Talanah put out, holding Lena up. "You really been beating yourself up over that, huh?"
"Eh?" Lena felt her face getting hot. She awkwardly hovered over the table.
"Look," Talanah smiled slyly, though with a certain warmth about her. Arms crossed, she leaned back in her seat, looking up at Lena. "Take it from someone who's hooked up with her before." She bobbed her head off toward Aloy. "Nora? When she sets her mind to something, she follows up. Every time. No two ways about it, Oxton – if she took a demotion just to be with you, she did it because she wanted to. Period."
Lena shrugged up one shoulder, glancing off at her girlfriend, who was perusing the photos pinned to the bulletin board.
"Ah," Lena grunted, running a finger across an itch on her cheekbone. Realigning her glasses, she sighed. "Only she doesn't seem too happy about it, is all."
"Well, ya know," Erend gestured a wrist up, nodding. "Nora's got a lot of pressure on her these days."
"Most of it self-inflicted," Talanah raised.
"Yea," agreed Erend. "Probably feels guilty about having one damn slice of happiness in this world, just because everything's not perfect. Just how she gets."
"We'd tell you to watch her back," said Talanah. "Keep her safe."
"Ha," belted Erend. "But we all know she's gonna do that for you, so...-"
Lena nodded, smiling a bit awkwardly. This was a bit odd, and all, wasn't it? Cops and dating and...-
"Erh, thanks, you lot. I'm, uh-...Gonna go check on her, then," said Lena, receiving confirmation nods as she whirled round.
Aloy was still transfixed on the photo wall. She'd unpinned a picture from the board and took a snap of it with her phone. Her mannerisms were oddly shaky, though.
"Oi," Lena said quietly, coming round to her side. "What's up, A?"
"It's her," Aloy whispered, her tone incredulous. Wide eyed and a bit frantic, she flipped the photo to Lena, specifying, "Our missing girl."
Lena was flabbergasted at the idea. She murmured a confused, "What?" as she studied the picture.
A young woman, thin-faced and gaunt, with her hair matted into a ponytail of greasy braids. Intense eyes – frighteningly so – were surrounded by...ketchup, maybe? It was like she had taken ketchup and plastered her face with it, a faux-war-paint of sorts. A mask of it were caked across her eyes and forehead, and a strip painted vertically down her tall chin. She had on a ragged denim vest, stained and tattered, and her muscular arms had various tattoos of blue ink etched across them.
She looked worse for wear in a sense, yet energetic and very alive in another, glowering at the camera with an almost sadistic grin.
Bloody hell, though, it really was the missing girl from their case, wasn't it?
"Blimey," Lena sighed out, a bit dazed.
And she wasn't alone in the photo, either. To her side, another was with her.
A pale-skinned girl with a bird's nest of bushy, straw-like hair – gray in color. A gangly sort, she had child-like features with big bright eyes – veiled behind a pair of red-tinted glasses. She was wearing a very messy, loose top, leaving her black sports bra visible, as were many tattoos, scattered across her arms and clavicles.
While the other photos on the wall had names written in pen or marker, this Polaroid was a bit odd – it had, what, some runes, or some such?
Aloy couldn't understand what it meant...
"The back," Aloy grunted, flicking her finger at the corner of the photo.
Lena flipped it around.
There was also a scribbled drawing of a pentagram, and a bunch of...seemingly random names scribbled, and crossed out, all ending with '-ae'.
But there was one, in the middle of the pentagram, written in a much messier handwriting. Wasn't crossed out, either.
{ B A E }
Lena and Aloy exchanged shocked expressions at all this.
"Heh, you find me on there?" Erend chuckled, sauntering over. "They get my good side?"
Aloy grabbed the photo from Lena's hands, whisking right past Erend, straight for the counter.
"Whoa, what...-?" Erend was lost.
"Excuse me, Ma'am?" Aloy called out to the worker, who was somewhere in the back, prepping food. "Ma'am? Hello?"
The worker, chatting on her headset – to a drive-in customer, likely – stuck up a finger at Aloy, signalling that she needed a moment.
Aloy sighed impatiently, slapping the photo down on the counter and running her hand through her hair. Lena approached, nudging by Erend as she did so.
"Thought you ladies didn't care about this thing," Erend murmured, following up behind them.
"What's going on?" Talanah questioned as she arrived at the counter, as well.
Her boot tapping against the tile floor, Aloy pinned the photograph with her index finger, sliding it across the way toward her friend.
"It's her," Aloy cited plainly – trying to keep her voice down.
Talanah took a moment to study the picture, though she had no context.
Lena leaned over, whispering, "'S our missing girl, it is. No doubt."
"Wait, seriously?" Erend grunted, shoving his way in to look. "Whoa, that-...She-...She likes to, erh, play with her food, I guess, huh?"
Aloy shushed him as the store worker approached, asking, "Did you...need something?"
Aloy clapped her hand down on the picture, rotating it, then pointed rigidly at it.
"Do you know these girls? When was this photo taken?"
The worker was startled by Aloy's tone. Fidgeting with her visor, she warily glanced down, shrugging and shaking her head.
"We don't...really keep a record for...that sort of thing, it...-"
"Surveillance?" Aloy interjected, cutting to the chase. "You have surveillance, right?"
"Sh-Sure, but I don't-...I can't give you access to that without...-"
Aloy pulled out her badge from inside her coat and presented it.
The worker's brows popped up and she shrugged, taking a step back.
"I still can't-...Y-You'll have to come back tomorrow when my manager is here, and...-"
"Is anyone else back there?" Aloy grunted, waggling the photo at the worker. "Do you have a supervisor I can talk to, or...-?"
"I am the acting supervisor tonight," said the woman shakily.
"C'mon, A..." Lena murmured, tugging at Aloy's bicep to get the woman to back down a bit.
Aloy pressed, "Can you see if anyone else here recognizes either of these girls? Knows when they were here?"
Poor worker behind the counter looked like she'd piss her trousers.
"Aloy," Lena sighed, tightening her grip on Aloy's arm.
Aloy seemed to snap out of her rabid little chase and took a deep breath, setting the photo back down on the counter.
"Sorry, there, Ma'am," said Lena warily. "We'll sort it out with the manager tomorrow. When'll they be round, you think?"
"Should be...here by noon," said the worker.
"Can we hold onto this?" Aloy asked, pawing at the photo.
The worker shrugged, wide eyed.
"Sh-sure, I guess that's...fine."
"Thanks," Aloy said, nodding as she stuffed the photo back in her back pocket.
"Uh," Lena blurted, lifting a dainty index to the worker. "You lot aren't in trouble, by the way. We're just...looking for someone who was here."
The worker still looked kinda petrified, but nodded, polite like.
"Thanks, Luv," said Lena, offering a sympathetic smile as a new pair of customers entered the shop.
The group went back to their table, and while Aloy's old partners seemed hungry enough, Aloy was flipping around on her phone frantically. Was making Lena uneasy.
"Lose your appetite?" Talanah prodded at them.
Lena went and nudged Aloy's thigh with her wrist, beneath the table.
"Mm?" Aloy hummed, tilting her head a bit while her eyes and fingers remained on her phone. Was looking some stuff up – work stuff. Gah.
"She's trying to do work now, isn't she?" Erend dryly theorized.
Lena smiled sheepishly and shrugged. She patted at Aloy's thigh again.
"What?" Aloy mumbled, blinking as she woke from her 'work-trance.' Setting her phone face down on the table, she wiped her hand across her face, through her hair, and sighed. "Sorry. Old habits..."
Lena watched Talanah and Erend swap a look, and she felt like she could've joined them had they swapped with her.
"I, uh...really want to solve this case," Aloy confessed. "This girl is getting ignored, just because of her background, and it...-" Aloy's hand, on the table, balled into a fist before unclenching and laying beside her tray.
"We get it, Luv," Lena assured, giving Aloy's leg a brisk, encouraging rub.
"And, I mean," Aloy took an unsteady breath, avoiding everyone's gazes. "If I want to get to the bottom of whatever my mother was up to? I'm gonna need to be better than a fucking beat-cop."
"You are," Erend puffed, dismissing her deprecation. "Why the hell does Amari have you working a missing person's case when you're not even Detective?"
"With the terrorist attacks going on," Aloy sighed, shaking her head, "Amari's got all hands on deck right now."
"Honestly," Lena sighed, "I think she's more interested in us digging up info on the group what we think took her."
"Took her?" Talanah wondered.
Lena nodded, and Aloy shrugged, shaking her head a little.
"We shouldn't get into this," Aloy said, shooting Lena a disapproving glance. Yea, yea, 'protocol' and all that... Aloy concluded, "I feel like we're being underestimated. Whatever my mother got mixed up in, it's...higher clearance, and...if I can prove I can be objective, and...if...-"
"You want them to regret looking down on you?" said Talanah. "Then speak to them in their language."
"Like, how?" Aloy sighed, getting more flustered the longer she thought on all this. Aloy was better at focusing on stuff right in front of her, not...so much with the long term stuff. And figuring out why her mom was put in an asylum? Long term stuff.
"Do the work," Talanah said simply, shrugging up a shoulder slightly. "Solve cases, get shit done, get it done faster, better."
Aloy made a weird, wary gesture and shook her head a bit.
"It feels like I'm flying a bit blind lately," Aloy confessed. "It was a coincidence we even found that photo."
"You found it because you keep your eyes sharp," insisted Talanah, and Erend was nodding in agreement. "Half of our fucking jobs is being able to catch shit because we keep our eyes peeled."
"I don't know," Aloy grumbled bitterly, staring down at her unfinished meal.
"You don't need me to hold your hand anymore, Aloy," Talanah insisted, losing a bit of her patience. "This, like...-" She wrinkled her expression with some distaste. "-...whatever this side of you is? It ain't Nora."
Lena nodded, squeezing Aloy's leg some more.
"You've got this," Lena assured. "I'll do whatever I can to help you get there."
Aloy paused, absorbing Lena's warm gaze. She tried to blast some positive vibes, but couldn't tell how well it went over.
"Uh," Aloy scooped up her phone, putting it in her pocket. "Look, I'm sorry, guys, I-..." She got up from her seat, grabbing her tray.
"I know," Erend sighed, nodding with a solemn smile. "You've gotta go. Criminals to track, cases to solve...all before breakfast."
"O-Oh, erh-...?" Lena grabbed one last bite of her food, following Lena's lead.
After dumping their trash, Aloy and Lena approached the table before heading out.
"I'm so sorry," Aloy grumbled, flustered. "I meant for this to...go differently, but this, it's too important to-...Sorry."
"Hey, whoa, whoa. It's fine, Aloy. I was lucky to get a minute of your time," said Erend with a twinkle of admiration. "Try not to forget about us while you're out there changing Arcadia."
"I'll always have a minute for you," Aloy insisted. "Both of you," she added, glancing to Talanah. With a cute little smile, she said, "Maybe even two minutes. One for each."
"I've gotta split time with this clown?" Talanah teased, giving Erend a shove.
The trio of them chuckled, and Lena felt a bit lost again. Out of her depth. Suffocating on that same bloody feeling she was trying to keep her head over.
\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\
Sex Bob-Omb originates from Scott Pilgrim vs the World (Bryan Lee O'Malley, Ubisoft)
Undyne and Papyrus originate from Undertale (toby fox)
Erend and Talanah originate fromHorizon: Zero Dawn (Guerrilla Games)
