Turns out, Cameron did not eat shit on his first jump. What he did accomplish was nothing short of hilarious. He landed just fine… but momentum carried him along. He did a flip, landing it, turning around, looking bewildered beyond belief. Octane cheered him on, now if he could only get him to land on a jump pad to style on someone.
The stunt was already coming together in his mind. Maverick landing on a jump pad, doing a flip, giving the camera a determined smirk as he used his laser to completely surprise his opponent. It was perfect. Now, to just find the perfect set up.
Maverick immediately set off to loot some crates around the area. This place was modeled with Octane in mind. Gauntlet. Jump pads everywhere, a ring of fire, and oh...on the edge of the 'map'. One wrong move and that's a long way down. At least there is water. Not to mention that during the flyover, there were these giant things called Leviathans and Mirage admitted that people—not himself, of course—have been crushed by them…
Maverick didn't know whether to pity or laugh. So, he ended up doing both. Pitying the poor fool and laughing his ass off about it. Like come on, how is that not funny? You know it was putting its foot down and still someone got crushed!
A bullet flew over his head, clipping the lid of the loot crate. "Well shit, already?" Inside that crate was a Prowler Burst PDW, ammo, shield cells, and a level two...EVO shield? The fuck are those? Disregarding the thought, he 'attached' it to his body and looked at a device hooked to his belt. His banner. It showed three blue bars above a white bar.
Priming his Prowler, Maverick slid over to the next crate, opening that up, finding syringes, more ammo, and an Arc Star. I hear these things are pretty fun to toss and even more hilarious to stick to someone. Might have to try that.
Meanwhile, Mirage was pinned down, "Might need a little help here!"
OH! There were some details left out. The map was zoned off from the otherside of Bunker all the way to...Shipyard if Maverick read it right. Basically, the desert area of the arena was open for business. There was this huge gaping hole to the right of Gauntlet. That used to be someplace called Skull Town and Thunderdome.
From what Maverick had inquired about from the woman responsible, Loba, she did it to get access to the...ahem...demonio's...source code—big scary red guy by the name of Revenant. When that failed, the whole facility went down in a pile of ashes, compromising the integrity of the clifface. It was rather violent. Stories later. Action now.
Maverick continued to push towards Mirage's position and that made it easy when he used a jump pad to leap into the area where Mirage was being surrounded by a green gas, and Maverick noticed almost instinctively that it was bad to breathe it in. Bringing up his Prowler, he saw the scientist, Caustic, looming over Mirage.
The man didn't get the chance as fifteen rounds punched through the White EVO shield and his health. Without hesitation, a small burst of a laser finished him off. Turning around, he saw a man using nano drones and Maverick was alerted that his position was revealed. Reaching into the death box, Maverick pulled out an RE-45, still loaded and two mags worth of ammo. The man known as Seer came up the stairs, who then ate lead like it was going out of style. The man was down but not out. Hearing shots from across the way, he noticed someone fly up with a bracelet and engage with Octane.
"On your left, speedy!" Maverick shouted while tossing his sole Arc Star across the gap, through the ring of fire, and landed close by to the woman known as Loba. The person who this was modeled after just laughed.
The sound of a fast-firing SMG rang out and a chime sound rang a few seconds later, "That's the whole squad down, amigos!"
"Yeah, that's great, but could you pick me up?" another voice came through. He was next to Maverick.
He shook his head, "Mirage, how the hell did you go down? Aren't you supposed to be 'the best Legend around?'" A sarcastic, mocking tone slipped into his voice. He made sure to stab the needle a little bit harder. "I'll leave your ass if you slow me down."
"Geez, Maverick, you don't have to be so antsy. It's an unofficial match," Mirage stated as he pulled out a Shield Cell and recharged them as he and Maverick went to go loot the boxes, provided a certain junkie didn't nab everything.
Is this a way for them to judge my abilities while they goof off? Maverick thought it was a likely prospect. Ways to take him down, what makes him tick, all of his weaknesses. Maverick grit his teeth. This was not what he wanted. Add to the fact that he's the 'newbie Legend' made it even better. It wasn't about performing for the cameras. He was performing as he did on his killing spree. Well, a few months ago, that might have not been the case. Maverick wasn't looking to impress. He had no one to impress. All he cared about was himself. That hadn't changed.
The planet Solas hosted the original arena for the Games but has since expanded with its booming popularity. Blisk did say his skills could be used here, and the man wasn't wrong, but revealing them here was another story entirely. The pay was good too, according to the other Legends. He gets to kill people for money. A true bloodsport. The pay for even participating was 100k credits base. Depending on how well one did escalated the payout, going as high as half a mil. Even if he lost, that's 100k credits that Maverick didn't have before. Kills were worth 20k a piece.
There were even prices for the squad surviving, a good 75k credits. 25k if only one survives. The last number is obvious. Case in point, making money isn't a problem. The problem was the inflation of the credits. They were worth maybe half of the market value. So, realistically, at most he would make if everything lined up was 250k.
Economics aside, once Mirage decided to get up and loot what was left over, Maverick looted a crate and found a Peacekeeper. The sly grin that appeared on his face was not missed by the junkie who rushed by to pick up a grenade. For some reason, Maverick thought that Octane blew his legs off if the chuckle he let out was anything to go by. Not much to go on, Maverick internally thought.
Speaking into his squad's comm channel, "Any energy weapons around, preferably a Volt or Havoc?"
Mirage actually was the one to point it out, "Well, it's not what you requested, but it is an energy weapon. A Triple Take, this bad boy's got a precision choke." Maverick thought it over before deciding to take it, climbing up the side of the building, Mirage grabbed his hand and assisted him over. Giving him a nod, Maverick claimed the Triple Take, slotting the Peacekeeper on his back.
Inspecting the weapon over, it definitely was a sniper or marksman's gun, something that admittedly is not his strong suit. However, three bullets per trigger pull means he's got a 33% chance to hit someone...and those odds were what the Jackals thrived on. The less of a chance, the greater the reward when it worked out.
Maverick pulled out a cigarette. The habit became worse, and thanks to advancements in technology, there wasn't worry about dying from cancer. "'Preciate it."
"That's bad for your lungs," Mirage lightly chastised. Maverick flipped him off as a classic childish response. That's exactly what Mom said, and look, I'm still alive.
The sound of a jump pad alerted Maverick and his Peacekeeper was already in hand, finger on the trigger. Turns out, it was Octane, messing around. Maybe I'm basing it on this guy alone... "Oh man, what a rush! Come on, amigos, the loot's waiting!" Without waiting for them, he stabbed a syringe into his chest and started running, hopped on a jump pad, flew through a ring of fire while doing a front flip, then landed on the other side.
Maverick had to admit, jump pads were fun; something he wouldn't ever admit aloud. Especially not to Octane. Adjusting the gauntlet on his wrist and the circular plate on his chest, letting the steam out, he followed. Landing on another jump pad, Maverick slid into the room, eyeing a death box. These things were weird but he chose not to question them.
"Forty-five till the Ring closes, we're pretty far," Mirage commented, having followed a couple of seconds after. The new blood grabbed some shield cells and some syringes, just to make sure, even grabbing the level two backpack in there, which he then grabbed a shield battery. Looks like I have some research to do on these items.
Maverick looked at the map to see they had to make it to the opposite side of a small unnamed town and it's only round one. Taking a long drag of his addiction, he puffed out. "Well, let's get moving, no doubt someone heard our exchange and plans to cut us off."
"How would you know that?" Mirage asked, racking a round in his R-301.
"It's something that I'd do," and something that I've done many times before. The idiots never saw it coming. I'm not about to be the one cut off because of it. From the questions I've asked about the ring, all Mirage said was that it was like having a heat stroke on top of a knife glide across his body. Maverick let out a small shiver.
Checking his gear one last time, he gauged the power supply for his shield, seeing it was good, but the battery was getting worn out. Finding another one would be a challenge, something he would have to investigate on his own. He no longer had the backing of the Jackals to help him, and he was for certain not going to ask the Legends. Call it the distrust, but it was something that Maverick couldn't let go of. One could describe it as stubborn pride.
Not to mention that his shoddy work was showing, and to be fair, he didn't have all the tools he needed when it came to working with Titan parts. The Jackals were in the Outlands, where Titans were either destroyed, decommissioned, or burned for scrap. Finding one intact was a boon and a curse it sometimes felt like.
Disregarding the intrusive thoughts, Maverick's outfit had changed in subtle ways. He still kept the tunic he wore but changed out its color from the Jackal's pattern to a cool green, a very rugged color. His hair was styled into a short mohawk, and to keep the sun out of his face, he wore shades that he plucked off some unwitting person. Why the fuck should he care about them? He needed them more, and it made him look...not dangerous...but cautious to be around.
The gauntlet that Maverick wears on his wrist would extend to a Vortex Shield that covered all but his shins and below. Crouching, it covered his whole body. It caught the bullets fired his way and it could be sent back in a direction of his choosing. The time it was active was only about seven seconds, which could save his life in a firefight. The energy did recharge after a while so he had to use it sparingly. The color of the shield would go from a neon blue to a pale red, and that was his only warning. It wasn't something that he could 'spam' like Octane who seems to have a whole cabinet full of his stims. Seriously, the guy is going to die from something stupid one day.
Once they were finally done, checking over the place one last time, the ominous glowing orange ring began to close. Maverick let Octane take the lead forward, making sure to move faster than the old man Mirage. Even as they moved, the blistering sound of gunfire echoed across the Canyon. The gunfire was loud, yes, but also constant. Which would mean that the other Legends timed it so that it sounded constant, or someone got a big gun.
The instincts that Maverick honed from the Jackals kicked in and he began to stalk across the desert, checking all of his angles, the Triple Take in his hands. He would drop it in an instant for his Peacekeeper, and he might just beat a motherfucker with the gun itself. No rules against it.
Mirage noticed the change in the new blood but said nothing. The Trickster was not aware of Maverick's past, no one was. Obviously, the man was curious, the fact that he's got Titan technology means that he either knew a Pilot, ergo their Titan, or got lucky scavenging the parts. The fact that he made it human-sized was another stroke of genius. I mean...the guy literally lasered the mad scientist without a care, and then there's the gadget on his arm.
"Mirage, be ready, I think we've just stumbled upon a crossfire," Maverick said, making the older legend nod. I'm pleased, the kid's got a sharp mind. "Lead the way."
That only confirms that they were scouting Maverick. He turned and looked at Mirage, narrowing his eyes, which was not seen behind the shades Maverick was wearing. "Thin ice, holo-boy. All of you."
Mirage grinned once Maverick turned, Perceptive. He'll fit it just fine.
Octane was ahead, and Mirage left the comm open, so he heard the entire thing, "Maverick's got good instincts." Just as Octane rounded the corner, he heard the charging handle of a gun release.
"Looks like I got another victim, mates!" Rampart said, laughing loudly. She was basically broadcasting her position. Octane watched another deathbox sprouted into existence before the laser turned to him. "Oi, you're on the newblood's squad! Do me a favor and just stand there. I want to test sumthin'!"
The junkie loved the sound of his heart racing, but there was a glint in Rampart's eyes that made Octane feel some concern for the new blood. "Uh, no thanks, chica! Sayonara!" Octane shouted as he started to run from the hailstorm of bullets that Rampart was dumping out.
Some of them did impact Octane, shattering his body shield like paper mâché. All Octane was hearing was the sound of Rampart's laughter. Not to mention that she was hiding behind her amped cover, so the bullets really hurt. The speedster felt another bullet tear into side, making him slightly crash into the wall. More bullets were beginning to rain down on him but...they never impacted.
Octane would never admit it, but he closed his eyes. Getting mowed down by that modified piece of tech was something that does not sit well. The muscles that he still has ache afterward for days. In front of him was Maverick, crouching in front of him. "You so fucking owe me, junkie. Mirage!"
As he was speaking, bullets were impacting the shield, not penetrating, but stacking, floating. Mirage quickly grabbed the injured Octane and pulled him away. Meanwhile, Rampart was dumping rounds, the glint in her eyes intensified, the sounds of her own laughter lost in the bulletstorm dance that she weaved. Standing up, Maverick looks down to his other hand, Triple Take long forgotten, seeing a syringe. Not just any syringe, Octane's syringe. I am going to regret this. Finding a vein, he injected just the first few drops. It seemed to be an auto-injector, so Maverick ripped it out, ignoring the pain, and ran towards the bullets. A jump pad was thrown in front of him and the plan came together.
Rampart was too busy making gun noises with her mouth to realize what was happening. Something that every Legend succumbs to: Tunnel Vision. She thought by mowing down Octane, she would get what she wanted to see. However, due to the muzzle flash of Sheila, she didn't see him until he was above her.
A nice bright red shield with all amped bullets that she just fired. "Hello." Then, they were released without remorse. The bullets shredded her Red EVO shield and all of her health in one second. She was downed, and when she looked up, the bastard above her was smoking a cigarette. What she did notice was the wound on his opposite wrist. Oh, the crazy bloke used one of his stims?! That's genius, mate!
Maverick was smoking the cigarette like his life depended on it; taking long, deep puffs of the cancer stick to regulate his heart. Those things were not for recreational use! Those damn things needed a biohazard warning, which Octane would later tell him that they in fact, do have a biohazard label.
"Sorry about that, but I do want to make a good impression." The shield was actually burning against his wrist, considering that it was literally put under a strain that it never experienced before...there would be a time to address it. Right now, killing people. Let's focus on that. The laser on his chest began to charge. "You can get me back in an actual game," Maverick said through a drag of his remedy.
Rampart watched as the laser charged up, lighting her vision up in red before she blacked out. She didn't feel the impact. A death box appeared next to her body, and then to add in some disrespect—because he wanted to have an outlet for the burning in his wrist—he extinguished the cigarette on her forehead before he was under fire. "Yo, you two done frolicking through the fields?"
"We're under fire as well. Looks like we got caught in the middle of the fray, compadres! Woo-hoo!" Octane replied, the sound of his R-99 spitting bullets following his declaration. Maverick rolled his eyes, before he heard the sound of a phase close by. Already turning, his Peacekeeper was brought up, and standing above him was none other than a Skirmisher.
"Having fun yet?" she asked.
The struggle between them was mutual, "Don't know yet." He turned the gun away, making Wraith, his attacker, be off balance. Once he thought he had the upper hand, she phased away. Maverick decided to move it or lose, taking the Alternator Rampart had in her death box. The new blood needed a way to make the other squads fight one another.
Maverick hopped off the perch that Rampart had set up and ran. As he did, missiles rained down from the sky. Shit. He was in the middle of them all. If the explosions don't get him, someone else will.
He tried to vacate the area, and just as he was about to clear the blast zone, one of them was set off early, making Maverick fly. It wasn't as graceful as it seems. Those old movies that the Jackals watched made it seem so damn clean. They were fucking wrong. Fuck you, anicent Hollywood! Did that place ever exist? Maverick didn't know.
What he did know was that the wall is not as fragile as those movies were led to believe. Impacting it hurt, of course. So, when his vision mostly cleared, he stumbled up, but a barrel was placed at the base of his neck. "Nice try, shooter. Not bad for the first time."
Then, Maverick's vision went black.
Waking up again was at least easy. His green eyes blinked at the harsh light above him, then something chirped outside his line of vision before a silhouette blocked out the light, "Ya wit me, Maverick?"
Blinking again, a strangled groan came out of his mouth. He immediately felt something missing from his body. No, his limbs were still attached. It was his equipment.
He must have said it unconsciously, "Don't cha worry. Your gear's here, but I recommend that you get it looked at. I can tell it was a DIY project. D.O.C, check all his vitals." The chirpin happened again. "Anita got you good. Her, Renee, and Makoa ended up winnin' the mock Game, but we all got paid the same amount if it was a norma one."
Ajay? Mav-no, Cameron believes her name was. "Can I get up?"
"Sure thing, I'm just about done anyway," Ajay said. "By the way, nice tattoo. Who did it?"
Cameron froze for a moment and tersely replied, "A friend. A parting gift."
Ajay chose not to comment on that, and instead changed the subject. It was a sore spot for him it seemed, "You did well for your first time. Instincts are good, awareness is above average. Brutality is anotha factor that everyone noticed. The cranky scientist complained that the laser was too effective." Forcing his body to sit up, Cameron was not surprised to see a gauze wrapping around his torso to his left shoulder. "Impactin' da wall messed up your shoulder a little. You'll be fine in a few days. No strenuous activity, got it? They don't call me Lifeline for nuthin'," Ajay said.
Cameron picked up on the veiled threat well, choosing to nod. He stood as Ajay handed him his shirt and tunic. "Thanks, Doc." The drone beeped in what seemed like thankfulness. Ajay seemed to understand what he was really saying and let him out.
What Cameron was greeted with was the rest of the Legends, well, missing like three. Four if you counted Ajay in the adjacent room Cameron just left. Octavio was the first to greet him, "Don't take my stims, amigo, they are designed for me! Otherwise, that play was sick, Mav!"
Elliott was the next to congratulate him, "Yeah, it was spe-spec...fabulous, soaring through the air like that. Nicely done."
The next pair he saw was Renee and Natalie who looked oddly comfy next to one another. Cameron didn't point it out as no one saw it as odd, so he let it go. "Where did you learn to fight?"
The unexpected question from Renee made the room stop. Natalie only rolled her eyes. "The streets," was Cameron's clipped reply.
A dismissive scoff, "Not from what I knew."
Leaving that there, he turned to the next Legends. Obi was the next, "Well fought. I can see where this Season is going to go." A nod of thanks was passed.
"Not much of a talker are you, soldier?" Anita said, walking by with a cup of coffee in her hand. Kairi had her own and sipped it like it was water. Cameron didn't respond to her; not because she bested him, so it wasn't pettiness. It was because of the way she addressed him. He is not a soldier. He is a gangster.
Eventually scraping together a response, "Not to the people who left my home in tatters."
Someone groaned in the background. Anita stared him down, "I was not in the Outlands until six years ago. Whatever happened to you was not my doing. I had left the IMC when I arrived."
"No one 'leaves' the IMC," Cameron retorted.
"Fair point, but I did," she countered. Cameron rolled his eyes before heading to the door to leave.
Spinning on his heel, "Do any of you know a place where I can do gear maintenance and/or repair?" Elliott eagerly raised his hand and gave Cameron a grin that expressed something that the former knew but the latter did not. I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
Elliott took him into the heart of Solace's capital city, a name that went right over Cameron's head. He lead him to the shady part of town but another thing, it was really hot. So hot that he literally tied his tunic around his waist, having only a sleeveless shirt on. His equipment was carried in a bag over his shoulder. A single bag, which was a backpack. Subtle enough to not draw suspicion, making it seem like Cameron lived in this part of town. Elliott was also blending in, but the way he walked made Cameron want to smack him.
Hell, he did it anyway, "So, who the hell are we going to see? You've had that grin on since we fucking left."
"Trust me, new blood, you'll thank me later. She's been wanting to properly meet you."
"You aren't setting me off on a blind date, are you? Cause the answer is going to be a bullet to your dome if we're on opposite squads," Cameron theatened Elliott like he was talking about how fucking hot it was. Seriously, I'm going to be a lobster by days' end! Tip one: Buy sunscreen before the day is over...and afterburn cream…
Elliott brushed off the comment, "Don't worry. We're coming up to her shop now. She's very good at what she does, and can no doubt fix your equipment before the next match." True, they had another week before the beginning of the season, and in that time, Blisk came and told him that he would be subjected to interviews and photoshoots. Some of them he can opt out of, others are mandatory. This still infuriated Cameron. He came because he wanted to kill to make money, something to fill the void in his heart. Sure, the Legends seem to be fun people to be around but they won't replace what he already lost. In his pocket, a necklace weaved in between his fingers.
Elliott then stopped outside an alleyway, "Alright, her shop is down this way, third on the left. Hound is calling me back, apparently I left something out."
"You aren't staying?" Cameron inquired, his internal bullshit detector going off.
Elliott smiled but there was something off about it. Cameron didn't want to cause unnecessary crap, so he waved the holographic trickster away and walked down the alley. What Cameron missed was the actual message from Ramya, Bring the new blood to my workshop, Witt. I noticed his gear was sloppily put together, I'm going to change that.
Cameron saw the logo, a spray painted R labeled the door. He knocked on the door, if only to be polite. When he received no response, he opened the door and saw nothing but old parts and half-baked projects. "Hello?"
"One moment, mate! Just...gotta...got it!" The voice didn't click immediately, "Prickly bastard didn't want to come undone." The voice slid out from under something and stood across the shop, fully in Cameron's line of sight.
Said sight was mesmerizing. Cameron felt something stir in his chest as he took in the sight of this woman who was sweating profusely. That wasn't the full thing. The shirt clung to her body in a way that made Cameron wonder who the hell he was looking at. His pants certainly liked what he was seeing. The shirt showed her midrift, and a piercing. A drop of sweat fell off her head, landing on her stomach, making his eyes follow it as it curved around her toned abs before it disappeared into his pierced stomach. Slowly bringing his eyes up, his eyes met hers and her knowing smirk.
Shhhhiiiiittttt, she knows! Camreon cleared his throat, "So, Elliott recommended me to you because I need something to get repaired."
"Sure thing, mate. Come here, and show me the goods," Ramya said, smile still present. She knew exactly what she was saying. Nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting. "The shield and that massive laser."
Cameron was both on and off guard. Narrowing his eyes, "How do you know about that?"
"Don't recognize me, do ya mate? I mean, you lasered me pretty damn well," Ramya said, smiling as the realization crossed Cameron. "A great first impression you gave me, you know? Got experience in that field?"
Unsure how to answer that, he changed topic, bringing out the equipment, "What can you do about this?"
Ramya picked up the gauntlet, "This thing burned ya wrist, didn't it?"
Cameron, pleased with the swift change and followed along, "Yeah, it never happened before so I was unsure on how to fix that."
Ramya nodded, seeing a solution forming her mind, "Well, I can craft something that would work as a protectant, a brace. I also need to rewire this. It was put together in the most blasted way possible, I'm surprised it worked at all for as long as it did. You made this?"
"Given I only had a year of trying to crunch Titan mechanics into my brain on top of my duty...yes." Cameron wasn't comfortable sharing that part of his past yet. "Same with the laser, pulled from a Titan that stumbled onto the territory."
Of course, Ramya was now more curious about this newest Legend. What made you this way? So evasive, blatantly so. She nodded at his brief explanation, "Well, I can fix that too, I happened to know some people that can get the parts."
Cameron tuned her out in favor of staring, watching her look over his gear without a problem. She knew what the difficulties and shortcomings were, so she came up with a solution. A woman who knows what they need to do.
"Cameron? Anyone home, mate?" Ramya waved a hand in front of his face. "Spacing out on me? I'm not that boring."
He quickly looked away, giving her a quick, "No, I was paying attention. Just got...momentarily distracted." She looked down at herself then back up with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"You can stay and watch," she said, putting the laser core harness down before going to get some tools. That was when Cameron locked eyes on a large gun leaning on a box. Following his gaze, "Ah, that's Sheila, my pride and joy. The rounds she fires are .50 BMG bullets and they cost thirty thousand credits per bullet, and she can hold one hundred and fifty-four rounds in one magazine."
Cameron slightly paled as he did the mental math in his head. "That's a lot of credits."
She nodded, "Mmhmm, and guess what, you sent a lot of them back at me. Almost broke my baby here. So, if I repair your stuff, you give me some of your earnings to help pay for parts, labor, all that jazz."
"Installments?" Cameron inquired, getting down to business. He was going to shoot Elliott for this but also secretly praise him for the sight he was granted. They agreed on fifty thousand per game. It may have been half of what he earns in a game but Cameron has no immediate need for credits.
"As long as I get paid, I don't care. If you don't pay me, I will unleash my baby on you, and no one will find your body," Ramya said deadly serious, all traces of playfulness gone.
He met her stare with that of a Jackal, eyeing the mechanic with a look of a predator does to one's prey. "Not the first time someone threatened me with bodily harm. They only got one shot before they dropped dead." He was slightly taller than her, but she didn't back down, "Better make it count, Rampart."
"Oh I will, Maverick," she said. The two stared at one another for a few moments longer. "Now get out, I'll be busy for the next few days. Don't interrupt me."
"I won't. A woman and her craft are best left to tend to themselves," he said, backing up until he was at the door. Their stare never dropped. It did once he closed the door.
What they both were unaware of was the fact they clutched their chests. Both had different reactions.
He's the first to make me feel challenged like that. And his gear ain't half bad either. She wasn't talking about the mechanical equipment either. Of course she noticed the strained way he was looking at her. What kind of woman would she be if she didn't notice a member of the opposite—or even the same sex—checking her out?
Meanwhile, Cameron was having a slightly different experience, What the hell is she doing to me? I shouldn't care as much, but that was a sight I'm taking to the grave…
Over those few days, Cameron made a notion to get to know the Legends, or even catching up on what he's missed because the underlying tension was getting to him. So, the next time he was able to see most of the Legends, he said, "Alright, there's some shit going on here and I'd like to be caught up."
At first, no one spoke as the request was so out of left field, "Did you not ever keep up with the news, mate?" Walter asked the new blood.
"As I've said before, I never took an interest in the Games as my duties had me otherwise preoccupied," Cameron replied as he walked into the room and found a lone chair to sit in.
"Did you even sleep over the past few days?" Natalie asked.
Cameron smiled wryly, "No need for your concern, Natalie. I'm used to no sleep." After years of learning the true leaderships skills needed to run the Jackals, yeah...
"That is not healthy for you, felagi fighter," Bloodhound said, the trinkets on their mask clinking together, creating a sort of wind chime sound.
"Done it since I was sixteen, what's a few more nights? Anyway, am I going to get filled in on this whole debacle because judging by the looks Gibraltar and Elliott are giving each other, you know something...all of you…" Cameron's voice was calm but his eyes expressed a smidge of curiosity. "Hell, Anita, I'll take an explanation from you."
The former soldier raised an eyebrow, "After all that?"
"While I know you personally weren't responsible, I have only cared for myself in the past, mostly. If I am going to be around you all for the foreseeable future, it would make sense to know what I'm really getting into," the sharp edge wasn't missed by any of them.
Loba waltzed into the room, "Oh good, you're here. Perfect. Let's begin the story then." Loba then launched into an explanation of how she wanted to get her hands on the source code for Revenant. That involved going to a shadow version of Kings' Canyon, gathering parts and pieces to something. It turned out to be the head of someone from years past. Which then brought Pathfinder into the conversation.
"She's my girlfriend!" the MRVN unit exclaimed with the exuberance that was common for him. "We got along really well!" His screen turned to a sad frown, "but then she left without so much as a word. Ash knew Rampart."
Never heard the first name, but what does Ramya have to do with it? Cameron decided not to pursue that line of questioning, and moved on, "So, Walter, what the hell is your story? I've seen some things about how your arrival was a shit show and a half."
"Aye," the elder man said, popping a cap off of some booze. "Ole' Maggie hijacked me ship and opened fire on civilians. She wanted me arm for the Salvo. Thanks to Ajay and Hound over there, we took care of it." There was a sadness in Walter's eyes, a look Cameron knows on a deeply personal level.
"Say no more, the other two can fill me in on what you missed. Avoiding all the things that you would rather not talk about, of course," Cameron said, looking at the two aforementioned Legends. Since when the hell do I fucking care? A startling thought but not one he was willing to investigate until he was alone, and no one would interrupt them.
That was when Ramya burst into the room looking mighty satisfied with herself, "Mates, how are ya?"
"Observing a woman on a mission," Cameron replied before he could stop himself.
The woman smirked, "You betcha. I finished those repairs, and I actually need you to help with something. I think you'll find it'd be worth your while."
Not everyone was dense—except Pathfinder. Sorry MRVN but...—that was so outta left field that even Cameron looked at her with far more trepidation than he normally would. "IS this about the threat?"
Clearly, this information shocked them, and before anyone could refute, Elliott opened his big fat mouth, "Well, clearly, Cameron, she's looking to-"
He was cut off by Ramya herself by putting an elbow into his gut with a hard enough force to make him forget how to breathe. Note to self, do not piss off the person who does gear repairs. Never know when something could...malfunction...let's go with that. Deciding that keeping a woman waiting was very ungentlemanly, Cameron stood, "Alright, the bedtime stories will have to wait. Make sure to heat up some milk for me would ya? I can't sleep without it." To those that knew Cameron—aka, no one here—he was joking. The fact is that he was so deadpanned in his delivery that Cameron would be surprised if someone knew he was joking.
In fact, Loba was the one to snicker, "Good grief, really? Could you have come up with something better than that?"
"Only had four years to know the person that would, after that...who knows?" He responded and again, only Loba and possibly Ramya understood his implication. Kairi already figured him out with that. It was the last piece of the puzzle she needed.
He knows what it's like then, the silver-haired woman thought. Those that didn't brushed it off not out of malice but out of ignorance. They simply didn't know what Cameron Mason has gone through. Not everyone knows everything about everyone. That is a fact of life.
So, Ramya led Cameron back to her shop, which thanks to the information during their actually quite lengthy story time, the latter knew that this was only a temporary shop. To him, it looked like she was always there. Even so, the tension between them was thin enough to disregard but not thin enough to disregard completely.
Now that the two of them were alone, the last time they spoke was a few days ago, and one was in a far more casual state of dress. To which one of them did not mind in the slightest. To start the conversation, "Were there any problems in fixing them?"
"Besides fixing that work you call craftsmanship? None. Don't quit your day job, Cameron," Ramya laughed. To his defense, it wasn't terrible. She has seen worse, far worse; she was just teasing the new blood.
"Was in a time crunch, needed something for it to work. Even after I kept the co-" he cut himself off. Loose lips much, me?
"What was that?" she asked, wondering what he was going to stay.
He shook his head, choosing to look anywhere that wasn't her, "Nothing important. Besides that, what did you change?"
Ramya smirked, knowing that he was genuinely interested, and who wouldn't be? It was his equipment, of course he wanted to know what was changed and if he had to adapt by a little or by a lot. A good trademark for the new Legends to have. The ability to conform to the situation at hand. "Well, despite the physical roughness in the design. I upgraded all the parts necessary like the wires and power cells. On top of my own little design choices, and that one major power cell, the efficiency of the shield went up by a projected 37%."
"What about the laser? The way I had it designed was to have them work interchangeably." Meaning, it relied on the same power sources. With Cameron's limited resources, he had to make it work, even if it was doomed to fail and potentially kill him or maim him. The steam being let out was releasing 'stress' on the system.
As if expecting this question, "That was actually the hardest part. In the end, I decided to keep it that way, however mate, I added in an extra power system to relieve the strain on sustaining the laser. I noticed it as if it was a subconscious action, you adjust the laser on your chest with minute movements, like it was bothering you."
Cameron frowned, "Was I?" He ran a hand through his hair, "Didn't think so. I mean, if I used it, it felt as if it could misfire and then laser my own chest."
Imagine his surprise and shock when he gets a slap upside the head from the mechanic Legend, "Cause it would have one day, you boka choda, in fact if you used it at full power at any point, it would have killed you."
Cameron recovered from the hit easily, "Well, wouldn't have been the worst way to die. Definitely can come up with better ones." Ramya just looked slightly off-kilter that he was really okay with dying. Almost like if it were to happen, he would be free. She tried not to travel down that line of thought.
Quickly recovering, "Anyway mate, besides the main things, the entire getup now looks different."
"Different how?" he asked, side-eyeing her.
She decided that telling him when they got there was better than telling him now, which got the reaction she wanted. Concern, trepidation, and anxiousness. Maybe a little sadistic coming from Ramya but it was funny to tease someone who acts like Witt sometimes.
She had to go for dramatic effect, so it was no surprise that when she opened the door, he was scrutinizing the whole place, making sure that this wasn't some elaborate trap. I'm alone, she's the only witness, and she could easily follow through with her threat. "Relax mate. I didn't think you were the distrusting type."
"Well, apparently, I'm the dumbfuck who has been around a circuit or two to know when my suspicions should be raised," Cameron replied, his tone falling back into his normal one once he found nothing out of the ordinary.
She sighed, mentally noting that he knew she called him that. How does he know that? A question for later. "Witt wouldn't have recommended me to you if he knew I couldn't do it. So, take a load off, you've been so tense these past few days, even when everyone else was calm as could be...well...as much as we can be with a murderous simulacrum muckin' about the place."
Immediately, Cameron noticed his gear laid out nicely on the far bench, along with a few tools which look like they needed replacing. Cameron put that aside in his mind to focus on the 'upgrades' that Ramya had made. He did notice that it looked to match his Legend attire, minus the lack of his tunic that he wasn't wearing. Just a simple shirt. He is a person last he checked.
The edges of the previous Vortex Shield were rough, potentially jagged, and all around annoying to pick up if not handled properly. The gauntlet looked much sleeker, if that's even the right term. Maybe form-fitting.
He noticed that the gauntlet had a protective sleeve of sorts, which would comfortably rest on his forearm, and not be in the way of bulkier weapons. Then again, this is Titan technology that she was working with. The Laser Core was another thing that was noticeably changed. Instead of the bare mechanism that rested on his chest, it now had its own sort of protective sleeve as well. Cameron didn't know how to properly describe it.
All he knew was...Ramya did a fantastic job, better than he ever did. Then again, his work compared to hers was like comparing a child's painting to a professional artist's latest work. There was no competition. "Judging by the pleased look you got going on there, Cam, you like what you see."
"Definitely. What kind of materials did you use to make this harness?" His hand ran over the high-grade material with a soft caress. Maybe it was the repressed child inside of him that made him act this way, or something else even Cameron himself is unaware of. But all he knew was that he was happy.
Ramya smiled wide and full of pride, "Trade secret."
Undeterred by the answer, he turned to face her, "Thank you. This means a lot to me." And she would not know that measure for a little while yet. Inside of Cameron's many pockets was the core of the very Titan this equipment was made out of. Strapped down, at least, so that his pants don't sag. It makes him look armed, even if he wasn't but then again.
He's a gangster, of course he's fucking armed. You fucking kidding? Anyone who crosses him will be dealt with.
Ignoring the triad, "Well, don't forget that you are to pay me, remember?"
"I would never skimp out on paying someone who rightly deserves payment," Cameron declared, which shocked Ramya. She didn't think he'd be so vehemently adamant about making sure she was paid. It shouldn't surprise her, as he didn't seem like the type to be ungrateful.
"Well, try them on, new blood, let's see how menacing you look," Ramya suggested.
This time, Cameron's smirk was more akin to a hunter closing in, "Oh? Is that what you really brought me here for? Don't worry, I don't kink shame. Paradoxical really, kink-shaming is a kink itself."
Ramya didn't have a retort but she did have a wrench, and would you look at that...he has a head that she can smash the wrench on.
What a coincidence.