A/N
Whats going on everyone!? It's me! You know me!
Well... you know me by my username and nothing else. Nothin' personal fellas... but internet anonymity is an important thing...
Anyways, this is a new-ish fanfiction I've been writing in my free time. The inspiration came from my recent, re-ignited interest in playing Titanfall 2. For those of you who like shooters and haven't played it, Titanfall 2 is fucking phenomenal and a MASSIVE improvement over the first game. The campaign made me actually care about a giant robot who speaks in a constant monotone voice, and I've been sweeping away scrubs on the multiplayer just like I used to...
G2A5 gang, where are my people at?
Anyways...
For those of you familiar with my RWBY content, I'm still finishing up the last few chapters of the second installment in my MARS saga. I completed another chapter as of today (August 2nd, 2020) and have been battling my writers block to finish it up.
As for this brand new story, I don't have a set update schedule for yet. There are a few chapters I'm finishing up, but they are nowhere near being worthy of publishing yet. Because I don't want to be working on multiple projects at once, most of my attention will be relegated to my RWBY stories.
So yeah... if you haven't played either of the Titanfall games you may be a little confused. If you want to try out the series you can skip number one, as its basically dead nowadays, but if you have some cash and free time to spare I HIGHLY encourage you try out the second. The multiplayer isn't as popular as it used to be but there is still a dedicated community of players to be found (myself included).
Tigress…
The top of the table was only inches away from her eyes, her nose and forehead supporting her face and head. The dingy wood that occupied her vision was mottled with stress lines and cracks that extended like a spider's web. There was something comforting about it, perhaps in its simplicity… yet sophistication.
All around her was the quiet murmuring of other patrons, often accompanied by the clink of glasses or the gentle whirr of the bar tap. The smell of cheap booze and smoke filled the air; the sour and unpleasant smell made her nose crinkle.
Not that an unpleasant smell would stop her… a half drained bottle of booze was sitting only inches from her hand; that, and she honestly couldn't remember the last time she had taken a proper shower.
"Ishikara…?" A gruff voice sounded above her, tense and impatient. "Are you still alive or will I be skimming off the top of your will?"
"Fuck off, Steers…" The now identified woman spat, rolling her head sideways and pointing bloodshot eyes at the intruder. "Whaddaya want?"
"What the fuck do you think I want?" The large bar owner rumbled, laying a hand on the table and leering down menacingly. "You're tab is longer than a prowlers fucking tail… pay up for this month!"
The woman spat out an incomprehensible insult and fumbled her hand into the pocket of her ratty jumpsuit. She withdrew a clump of credits, tossing the small chips onto the cracked wooden table that supported her head.
"Don't choke on it…" The woman grumbled, wrapping her fingers around her bottle of booze and taking a long drawl. The sloppy maneuver caused a dribble of alcohol to run down her chin and drip onto her jumpsuit collar.
"Whatever you say… just pay on time and I won't throw your pathetic ass out of here…"
"You and I both know you couldn't afford the financial hit… I'm your best customer!"
"Best and worst…" Steers frowned, crossing his burly arms and shifting uncomfortably. "But then again… if you drink yourself to death…"
The woman narrowed her eyes and tapped her empty bottle. "Spare me a lecture… I want another…"
"Comin' right up…"
The burly man sighed and retreated to behind the bar, collecting another bottle of amber coloured whiskey. He returned as quickly as he had left, setting the fresh bottle in front of the woman.
"Lemme guess… put it on your tab?"
"You know me too well…" The woman responded.
"Lucky me…"
Steers wandered away from the isolated woman, resuming his post at the bar and using an old rag to clean some glasses.
"Ishikara" shook her head and uncorked the new bottle of whiskey, setting the bottle against her lips and taking a long sip of the fiery liquid. She pushed the bottle to the center of the table and lay her head against the cool wood of the wooden table once again. The sensation of the table comforted her in the humid air of the dingy little bar.
She both loved and hated her little watering hole… there was something paradoxical about it all…
Ishikara reached up a free hand and gently rubbed the back of her neck. The pressure from her fingers did wonders to undo the knot in her muscles that she had woken up with. She really had to look into buying a better pillow, one that didn't twist her neck up like a pretzel every night.
Another voice was speaking to her now… destroying the solace she was beginning to sink back into.
"Fancy seein' you here… you mind if I pull up a seat, eh?" There was a distinctive accent to the man's voice that she recognized from somewhere, but she couldn't put her finger on it...
"Fug' off," Ishikara growled, not even bothering to lift her head. "Find your own table…"
The squeaking of an old chair and the rattling vibrations of the wood beneath her indicated that the stranger didn't follow her advice. Ishikara hissed like a snake and threw her head back, straightening her posture to make eye contact with the intrusive stranger.
"Who the fu-" The words died in her throat when she saw the person sitting across from her.
The man was in excellent physical shape, indicated by his broad shoulders and bulging biceps. His face was full and like chiseled stone, with a sharp- almost feral jawline. His smoothed back brown hair and scruffy beard were just as she remembered, his eyes still glittered with a hidden cleverness.
"Kuben Blisk," Ishikara stuttered out, swallowing audibly and leaning back into her chair. She carefully moved her hand towards the old pistol she kept strapped to her thigh, fingers resting against the textured grip of the handle.
"In the flesh!" The mercenary answered with a low chuckle, tapping his gloved fingers against the table. "Oh… and don't worry about reaching for your piece… if I wanted you dead I woulda' done it already…"
Ishikara kept her hand exactly where it was.
"Fine 'en…" Blisk grumbled. He gently drew his knife from its sheath and laid it onto the surface of the table, gingerly setting his sidearm next to it. He carefully slid them over to Ishikara's half of the table. The woman accepted them carefully, turning the weapons in the direction of their former wielder.
"Why are you here, Blisk?" Ishikara muttered in a low tone, the shock of seeing the man suppressing both her headache and her hangover.
"Come now, Ashley," Blisk gave her a feral smile. "I can't check up on an old friend?"
"You can't have friends in your line of business…"
Blisk shrugged nonchalantly and nodded his head, his eyes flicking up towards the ceiling for a moment. "Fair enough... but I can't check up on you?"
Ashley Ishikawa muttered under her breath and tightened her grip on Blisk's pistol. "Don't you dare-"
Blisk cut her off with a smug grin, deftly reaching into his vest pouch and withdrawing a small playing card, laying it in the center of the table. It was coloured red and trimmed with white, emblazoned with the fleshless visage of a horned beast.
Ashley grumbled under her breath again. "No…"
"Come on? Ain't even gonna hear my offer?"
"No…" Ashley repeated a little louder, her eyes narrowing.
Blisk sighed and leaned back into his rickety wooden chair. He studied the young woman sitting across the table, letting his dark eyes scan her up and down a few times.
She couldn't have been older than thirty, but he didn't have a knack for remembering birth dates. Inky black hair tumbled out of her messy bun, cushioning her shoulders and accentuating the sharp lines of her pale face. Her almond shaped eyes betrayed a distant Asian heritage, a hypothesis also supported by her high cheekbones. Ashley's eyes were as dark as he remembered, but were significantly bloodshot, most likely from alcohol consumption.
She wasn't hard on the eyes, but she looked awful compared to how he remembered her.
"Come on, Ashley… at least hear it out…" Blisk requested in the most gentle tone he could manage.
"You're wasting your time, Kubin…" Ashley huffed. "That part of my life is done… I want no part in whatever you're planning."
"Hush now," Blisk chuckled. "Turnin' over a new leaf are you? Quite a fine life you've managed to eek out for yourself in this swampy shitstain of a planet… living the retirees dream, eh?"
"Fuck off…"
"I can smell you from across the table… you're clearly living the high life."
"Fuck off… please...?"
Blisk shook his head. "What happened to you?"
Ashley stayed silent, her dark eyed gaze still hard and unflinching.
"I remember watchin' footage of you…" Blisk began. "I remember watchin' you tear through entire platoons of whatever vagabonds and backwater lowlifes the militia managed to dredge up…"
Ashley was still silent, her eyes as dark and sharp as obsidian glass.
"You were a- well… you were like a tigress," Blisk chuckled again. "Never saw teeth or claws as sharp as yours… I knew then that you'd make a fine contractor…"
"That part of my life is done…" Ashley muttered lowly, her fingers rubbing the grip of Blisk's pistol absentmindedly. "No… I don't want to get involved with you, Blisk… not again."
"Are you still hung up about what happened on Demeter?" Blisk asked in a flat tone.
The mere mention of the glassed planet had an immediate effect on the young woman. Her eyes dimmed somewhat, flicking over to her bottle of whiskey for a brief moment.
"So, yes then… that was a while ago now… need to keep your chin up…"
"Don't talk about Demeter…" Ashley grumbled.
"Why-"
"Because we got off the planet!" Ashley hissed, her eyes narrowing. "Not like everybody else…"
Blisk stayed silent for a moment, quietly considering his next move. The South African man leaned forwards to rest his burly forearms on the tabletop.
"Y'know, Ashley," Blisk mused. "You never did tell me how you got off Demeter…"
Ashley Ishikawa hiccuped loudly and slapped her hand against her mouth. Blisk watched as she tensed for a moment, clearly fighting with herself to control her emotions. She was ultimately successful, letting her face narrow back into an impassive look.
She was nothing like she used to be… a shadow of the tigress she had been. He had seen her slaughter entire squads and not even hesitate when doing so… now she was clearly fighting back hot tears.
"Sorry," Blisk offered, holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Didn't mean to make you upset…"
"If I was naive I would believe you," Ashley hiccuped again. "But I'm not…"
Blisk sighed.
"I mean't what I said about you being a tigress… you were one of the IMC's top pilots…" The mercenary paused for a moment. "But I look at you now… and… well…"
"What do you see? Huh?" Ashley asked indignantly, snorting loudly as she sharply inhaled.
"I see a tigress whose claws aren't as sharp as they used to be…" Blisk mused out loud. "She hasn't hunted in a long time… bones are showing through her skin…"
"That bad?" Ashley chuckled. "I know I'm not winning any beauty contests right now…"
"Or hygiene contests…" Blisk wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Poetics aside, you need a good scrub. But… if you weren't wearing what was once your old jumpsuit I wouldn't have bin' able to pick you out from all the other lowlifes in here… you've fallen hard…"
Ashley used her free hand to tug at the frayed cords of her old IMC issue jumpsuit. The white and black material was worn down to near unusable levels, featuring small scratches and rips in every conceivable place.
Blisk shook his head and placed the tip of his pointer finger on the small card he had pulled from his pocket. He gently slid the invitation card in her direction and then leaned back into his chair.
"You know how to contact me already… the card is just a little formality," Blisk muttered. "I'll be hanging around for the next four days… but after that I leave with or without you…"
"My answer hasn't changed…"
"Yet…"
"Hmmph," Ashley huffed, picking up the playing hard and studying the horned beast on its front. "Why are you offering me this card? You said it yourself… I'm not what I used to be… let me guess… there are some empty spots on your little team? Someone caught a bullet?"
"Good to see that clever head of yours is still chugging along…" Blisk nodded. "Yes… there are some spots that need to be filled at the moment…"
"Let me guess again," Ashley lazily flicked the card back onto the table. "Was it Kain? He always was a stupid bastard…"
"Kain," Blisk nodded in affirmation. "Richter, Slone… Viper as well…"
Ashley's dark eyes widened in surprise, her fingers stopped tapping against Blisk's gun. "All of them? How…?"
"A very pesky and persistent militia pilot," Blisk answered. "But that doesn't matter… I'm not in the business of revenge… I'm in the business to make a lot of dosh! Right now I know you could use some… don't deny it… you've been drinking away whatever credits you managed to scrounge up… I can smell the booze on your breath."
"I'm not keen to die early," Ashley muttered.
"The drinking won't help you in that endeavor," Blisk smugly responded. "That… and you were crazy enough to be a Pilot, and a damned good one…"
"I still don't know…"
"Like I said," Blisk smiled and held up four fingers. "You have four days to decide… no hard feelings if you don't want to tag along, but I can promise you that the money will be flowing like a river… the IMC has always paid well and I've already got a job lined up."
"Right…"
Blisk stood up from his seat and pushed the old chair in. He gestured to the knife and pistol he had handed over to Ashley.
"I still don't trust you enough to put these back in your hands…" Ashley admitted, her glare ice cold.
"Don't care much for the pistol," Blisk shrugged. "But the knife is special…"
Ashley grumbled and slid the knife over for Blisk to accept, her grip tightening on his gun. Kuben Blisk accepted his favored blade and gently slipped it back into its sheath. He then reached into his vest pocket, retrieving a very small cloth sack and setting it onto the table.
"What is this?" Ashley quirked an eyebrow.
"Open it…"
"You can open it…"
Blisk rolled his eyes and undid the sack, revealing the small stacks of credits hidden inside.
"Is this supposed to be a gift or something?" The young woman questioned.
"In case you decide to tag along… you may want to pay off your tab," Blisk chuckled. "Consider it an advance payment… assuming that you're coming…"
"Don't hold your breath…" Ashley muttered, grabbing her whiskey bottle and taking a sip.
Blisk shook his head and left the bar, moving with the predatory gait that Ashley remembered perfectly.
The ex-pilot pulled her newly appropriated pistol off the table and unloaded the weapon, setting the magazine down and removing the bullet from the chamber. With one hand still clenched on the whiskey bottle, Ashley used her other hand to pick up Blisk's playing card.
The fleshless visage of a horned beast stared straight back at her. It was nestled into a field of crimson with the word "Apex" crudely scribbled above it.
She spared a thought towards Blisk's description of her, his insistence of referring to her as a "tigress". She didn't feel like a tigress… she hadn't felt like much of anything for a long time. Her hopes, dreams and ambitions had died with the hundreds of thousands of others on Demeter… wiped from existence…
Even now, in the dim light of the bar she could remember the view of the planet as it burned. A tidal wave of fire that could be seen from orbit, scorching the landscape to its core and leaving only a blackened husk in its wake…
… as if it was destroyed by the hand of a cruel God…
Ashley Ishikara wondered if she could ever be a pilot again… she hadn't exactly taken care of herself since abandoning the IMC…
But Blisk still thought that she had potential… and he always had an eye for talent.
Ashley set down the card and lay her head against the cold wood of the table again.