"Hey, I'm back," greeted 435 as she let herself back in. "So, what's up old man?"
"Not much." Smiled Monger, before a thunderous roar emitted from around the corner. "Just the kid's body is remembering what real food is like."
"Heh, nice." The two slapped hands, creating a truly awesome high-five. "How long do you think he'll be in there?"
An anguished scream followed by a slapping of cheeks answered them. Monger looked back, and yelled out, "If you make a mess, you're cleaning it up!" He grumbled as he shifted in his seat. "Probably a while. How come? Anything happen today?"
"Watched as we popped a guy trying to swim in through the harbor. Vest detonated, but thankfully, no damage occurred."
"That's impressive. Not often you get someone willing to swim that far."
"I know right? Like, that's at least a few miles, especially with the vest he was wearing." She pulled up a chair for herself and leaned in it. "Such a shame. I just don't get why they don't get with the program."
"I still don't know why you call it that." Monger poured her a cup of mystery liquid. Still didn't know which bottle he pulled out this morning. "Want a cup?"
"Always." She took a sip. "What is this?"
"Dunno."
"Anyways, I call it a program, since, you know, its like a television program. We all have to play our parts."
"But we don't."
"We say we do. It really doesn't matter if we do, as long as we look like we are," shrugged 435. "It really doesn't matter."
"And they just won't sit down, and pretend like the rest of us, is what you're saying."
"Pretty much." Drawled 435. "Don't they know it's a lot easier to work from the inside than from the outside?"
"I mean, it doesn't look like you're getting results."
"But are we dying?"
Monger pondered as he sipped his mystery liquid. "No, we're not."
"Exactly. Sure, it's generational change, and its slow as all heck, but we ain't dying, and our ideas ain't dying with us."
"You know, they're going to make every dead soldier of theirs a martyr, right?" Groaned Monger. "I don't think they're ever going to stop."
"And we can't accelerate, as long as they keep throwing their useless bodies at the wall."
"The Wall?"
"I'm talking about a metaphorical one here, Manger," Smacked 435. "Jeez."
"Right, right. Sorry. Just my mind's escaping me at my age."
"Damn Geezers." The two finished their cups, and as Monger filled up the cups, 435 continued. "It's really annoying. Just glad we actually have a system here."
"I know right? Vale is such a piss-hole. It's garbage."
"We got luck with Watts. To Watts being an ego maniac." The two toasted and clinked tin cups. "Such an insecure bastard that he wanted Atlas, and for everyone to follow him as king."
"Chairman." Corrected Monger.
"Chairman, king, the senate, whatever. It's all the same."
"Yeah, just about."
The two enjoyed the silence, and the screams of Dove in the bathroom. "So, how are the other kingdoms?" Asked 435. "Sorry, ex-kingdoms."
"Naw, it's easier to refer to them as such. It's how the admins planned on splitting it, right?"
"The big four? Yeah. One for each." She took another sip. "Or at least it would have been if one didn't get sploded with Atlas."
"Yep. Speaking of him, Vacuo is pretty much the same."
"Bar the two cities."
"Bar the two cities. Those are gone." Monger downed his cup for the fallen cities. "Yep. Never stood a chance."
"Never stood a damn chance." 435 downed her own and held it out for him to refill it. "They were smart though. Tyrian supposedly never had a plan, so them just evacuating the city and being nomadic kind of worked out for them."
"It really did." Dove's screams echoed through the small shack. "Only the dumb pawns of that one guy who's actively working against Salem stayed."
"Ozpawn? Ozprick? What was it again?"
"Don't know, don't care."
"Fair enough." The two drank sipped. "What about Mistral?"
"They kind of messed up taking over, destroyed too many small settlements, not enough big dissident centers," mused Monger. "Really screwed Hazel over."
"They really did. I get he's technically a general of the person who's oppressing us and all, but damn, he really got shafted."
"Yep."
"And Vale's a pile of garbage?"
"Yep. Vale is a grimm infested wasteland. It's a shame."
"The loss of Vale? Yeah."
"I meant the complete grimmification of Cinder. Heard she was a looker before she completely lost her mind."
"Oh that." Nodded 435. "I heard something like that. Doesn't really concern me though."
"I guess it really doesn't."
"Yep."
Monger filled their cups again. "So, you think those guys are saying we're not doing enough to resist the occupation?"
"Of course they are. If you're not willing to die for their O man, then you're a coward," grimaced 435. "Well, sorry I'm not willing to die for your O man."
"I know right? Besides, we actually made things livable here."
"We really did. Thank the brothers that Atlas was taken over by an egomaniac."
Monger clinked his cup, then paused. "Wait are you talking about the city or the state?"
"Is there a difference?"
His eyes glazed over, before he shrugged and slugged down the drink. "Doesn't matter."
"Yep. It doesn't really matter." She then looked over at Penny, still standing in the corner. "So, you figure out what's with the mech yet?"
"Not really." Scratched Monger at his beard. "I mean, I thought it was some sort of sexual relief bot, but it sort of lacks the ports for that."
"I guess it does. What do you think is on the computer?"
"Dunno. Porn?"
"Really? Porn?"
"Hey, don't blame me," exclaimed Monger as he raised his hands in defense. "I knew a guy who had like terabytes of porn on his hard drive buried his yard. Like all sort of weird stuff was on there. He was going to dig it up after a few years and start printing out the pictures and get rich from it."
435 was about to raise her finger to correct him, then realized that he wasn't entirely wrong. "You think that if we get him a printer and a computer, we could split the profits?"
"Dunno. Maybe?" Mumbled Monger. "But that requires him to find where he buried it again."
"Huh. That puts a real kink into the situation."
"It does." Monger ignored Dove's cries for mercy. "So, what do you think is on the computer."
"Dunno. Does he do anything weird with it?"
"Sometimes I hear him talk to it."
"Think we have a Wilson case on our hands?"
"Maybe?"
"If so, man, that's got to suck."
"Yeah," sighed Monger. "Should we take it away from him? For his own good?"
"Maybe?"
A door thudded shut behind them, as Dove hobbled out. "Hey, welcome back 435. What are you two talking about?"
"Nothing important. Your mask isn't ready yet?"
"Nope."
"Pity."
