AN: Sorry for slow updates. My muse has been crappy lately, but now I'm back on track. Enjoy!
The air was filled with the scent of porkroast. The room had an odd yellow color bouncing off the ceiling and walls, due to the golden-orange sun going down and shining through the windows. An elderly woman stood over a crockpot. She was cursing the meat cooking inside, since it had not turned out well at all. "Guess your dad was right when he said I can't cook meat worth a damn," she muttered, eyes shifting to a young child sitting at the wooden table. A child of about seven or eight sat on an uncomfortable and squeaky wooden chair, shovelling chocolate pudding from a cup inside her mouth. Streaks of water from old tears stained the plump, rosy, and freckled cheeks. Unbrushed red hair stuck all over the place on her small head.
"What're ya cryin' for kid?" The old woman muttered as she returned the lid to it's rightful place atop the crockpot. "My friends were being mean to again," the child mumbled and scooped more pudding into her mouth. The woman let out an irritated sigh and walked over to the table. "What did they do?" She demanded to know, crossing her arms and giving an authoratative look. The child shrunk deeper into her chair, knowing there was no escaping it. "They called me names..." she mumbled nervously, small hands gripping at her purple pants while doing so. "What names?" The woman continued to coax answers out of the girl. "Uh... uh.." her eyes began to water as she choked the words out. "U-ugly..."The tears poured down her cheeks as she let out a shaky breath and quickly rubbed them away.
"Shoot, is that it? Really, what're you crying for?" The woman turned back to her cooking. "There are lots of worse things that they could'a done to ya. Keep that in mind, don't let silly WORDS get to ya. Stand up for yourself! And if the little suckers ever try to punch ya or hit ya, you know what you do?" "N-no grandma.. what do I do?" "Ya hit 'em back twice as hard!" She exclaimed dramatically, winking a little at the child. "Daddy and mommy says no hitting though.." she mumbled. "Ah, well if they hit you then you got just as much right to hit them back. Remember that now. And if ya do get in trouble, I'll just talk to your mom and dad about it. Okay?" A smile spread across the young face, and she quickly nodded in agreement. "Okay grandma!"
Peyton squinted as bright sunshine flooded into her eyes. She had just awoken from a very long nap, longer than she expected apparently because they were nowhere near a city now. They were parked in the middle of a dusty, unpaved road. The smell of manure and animals was in the air. A lot of people would be turned off by the smell and quickly leave. Peyton didn't mind at all though. It was honestly rather refreshing. Farms were common in South Dakota, especially ones with cattle. It's not that there weren't rural areas, there were plenty of those. There were just more farms than people who lived in city areas would normally see. So in a way... cow poop reminded her of home.
"Why are we all the way out here..?" she muttered, pressing her nose against the glass to get a better look at her surrondings. Suddenly, the young man who she had been sitting in the car with before walked over and opened the door. "ACK!" She yelped as she plopped out of the car and onto the ground. "Ow... w-why did you do that?" She mumbled, sitting up and wiping the dirt off of her clothes and face. He simply jerked her upwards by the shirt so she was standing on her feet. "C'mon, let's go," he muttered as he dragged her down the winding dirt road. At the end of the road, was a quaint little country house. The paint on the house was a dull yellow and was chipping away. It could probably use a new coat or two.
A stone sign sat outside, with an ingraving on it. The words were faded as well, so everything must've been pretty old. As they got closer, she was able to make out the words on the sign. "ROCKBELL AUTOMAIL" in big letters. Automail? Peyton could only wonder what the heck that was. The young man with the glaring eyes escorted her up to the door and then knocked on it. "Anton, I'm here with the "package". Hurry up," he said to the door. Footsteps could be heard and mutterings of, "I'm comin'. Hold your horses."
The door rattled for a moment, followed by a string of curses about the "stupid door". Finally, after a few more jiggles of the aged door, it swung open and revealed a tall man. He was well built and strong looking, with a handsome face to wrap it all up nicely. Though, that handsome face had a few smears of grease on it. His hands were coated in grease as well. His apron was just covered in it, along with the tools sticking out of the pockets of said apron.
"Yo. Where is it Tobias?" The man called Anton looked left and right for a moment before his baby blue eyes landed on her. "Eh? Uh, is this it?" He motioned towards Peyton with a raised eyebrow. Peyton's eyebrows furrowed a bit, not liking to be reffered to as an "it". "Dude, you know I'm not into that kind of thing. I may be around amputees a lot, but that doesn't mean I've developed that sick fetis-" "No! This is it! Just take her already geez!" Tobias exclaimed with a flushed face. "I'm going now. Get her set up with automail. And keep her whereabouts under wraps will you? I could get into a lot of trouble if you go running your mouth online," Tobias nagged as he turned to leave. "Jeez, have a little faith will ya?" Anton huffed and watched as Tobias walked back to his car and drove off.
Peyton stood there, watching as well. Except the difference was, she was gawking at the car as it sped away. What had just happened?! Was she just dumped off in the middle of nowhere?! "U-uh.." she dared a glance at Anton. He was staring down at her. She blushed and quickly looked away. "Well... alright then let's get you measured," he said with a shrug as he began walking inside. "M-measured for what?" Peyton asked as she followed him inside. He couldn't help but grin cheekily and look back at her.
"For your new arm!"
