Author: Chippewa Livingston
Archive: Please ask
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel.
An Unauthorized Genetic Experiment: Rebel without a clue.
"So what do we do with you, Lucid?" she asked, and pushed her hands into the pockets of her dress. I handed her the coat, and she put it on. Now the most visible thing here was the eerie glow of Lucid's face decoration.
"I didn't ask for your help." The girl's pout went with the sullen, slouched posture. "I was minding my own business, some guys go after me, and someone decides to help me out." Then she decided to smile at me. She shifted from one foot to the other, and tugged the hem of her mini skirt.
I turned back to 'Roxanne,' who was doing a slow burn. "Think we should take her home, or is she safe here?"
"Who cares?" Her frown intensified. "She didn't get her ass kicked, no one's after her, she can go wherever she wants!"
"I'm not going home!" insisted Lucid.
"Might be safer than waiting around for the guys who were chasing you," I suggested.
"So get lost!" growled 'Roxanne' at more or less the same time.
"No one is going to tell me what to do! I didn't put up with this crap from my parents, and I'm not going to take it from you!" The girl ran at me, and tried to push me down. My combat training kicked in. I took half a step backwards, and shouldered her away.
Lucid hit the dirty pavement, and 'Roxanne' was on top of her in a moment, with a forearm across the girl's throat.
"Give the wallet back!" Lucid's struggling didn't seem to be helping. "Now!"
I patted my now-empty back pocket. I should have noticed.
It's almost like I was back at Manticore. The camo-clad X-5 dug her thumb into a soft spot behind the other girl's jaw. Lucid whimpered, and dropped my wallet. I snagged it before anyone could change their mind. "I've got some bad news for you, Lucid." I couldn't help a snicker. "You would have gotten exactly a dollar if you'd gotten away with it. You really ought to consider the ratio of risk to reward."
'Roxanne' got up and put a distance between herself and Lucid.
"But I was hungry!"
"You're stupid!" was the reply. "You are trying to pick pockets, and you aren't even trying not to be noticed."
"Was that why those guys were after you?" It would make a certain amount of sense.
"I need to eat." Lucid curled into a ball and tried to cover her head with her hands. "The tattoos use glucose."
"That's not paint?"
"Bio-reactive tattoos. The glow takes energy. They told me not to get more than a little design, because I'd need more calories."
"But no one is going to tell you what to do." I don't usually get sarcastic like that. The girl would never have survived Manticore. Never.
'Roxanne' lifted one hand out of the coat pocket, and signaled for a quiet exit. I followed her out of the alley and back onto the street.
"Not our problem," I whispered, and put my arm around Roxanne's shoulder. We picked up our pace. We were on our way home.
"We can't do anything for the mentally deficient," she agreed.
"Natural selection," I pointed out.
We stopped under a burned out street light. Her eyes were dark, dark, grey. "Let's follow her."
"She can't have gone far," I agree.
Archive: Please ask
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel.
An Unauthorized Genetic Experiment: Rebel without a clue.
"So what do we do with you, Lucid?" she asked, and pushed her hands into the pockets of her dress. I handed her the coat, and she put it on. Now the most visible thing here was the eerie glow of Lucid's face decoration.
"I didn't ask for your help." The girl's pout went with the sullen, slouched posture. "I was minding my own business, some guys go after me, and someone decides to help me out." Then she decided to smile at me. She shifted from one foot to the other, and tugged the hem of her mini skirt.
I turned back to 'Roxanne,' who was doing a slow burn. "Think we should take her home, or is she safe here?"
"Who cares?" Her frown intensified. "She didn't get her ass kicked, no one's after her, she can go wherever she wants!"
"I'm not going home!" insisted Lucid.
"Might be safer than waiting around for the guys who were chasing you," I suggested.
"So get lost!" growled 'Roxanne' at more or less the same time.
"No one is going to tell me what to do! I didn't put up with this crap from my parents, and I'm not going to take it from you!" The girl ran at me, and tried to push me down. My combat training kicked in. I took half a step backwards, and shouldered her away.
Lucid hit the dirty pavement, and 'Roxanne' was on top of her in a moment, with a forearm across the girl's throat.
"Give the wallet back!" Lucid's struggling didn't seem to be helping. "Now!"
I patted my now-empty back pocket. I should have noticed.
It's almost like I was back at Manticore. The camo-clad X-5 dug her thumb into a soft spot behind the other girl's jaw. Lucid whimpered, and dropped my wallet. I snagged it before anyone could change their mind. "I've got some bad news for you, Lucid." I couldn't help a snicker. "You would have gotten exactly a dollar if you'd gotten away with it. You really ought to consider the ratio of risk to reward."
'Roxanne' got up and put a distance between herself and Lucid.
"But I was hungry!"
"You're stupid!" was the reply. "You are trying to pick pockets, and you aren't even trying not to be noticed."
"Was that why those guys were after you?" It would make a certain amount of sense.
"I need to eat." Lucid curled into a ball and tried to cover her head with her hands. "The tattoos use glucose."
"That's not paint?"
"Bio-reactive tattoos. The glow takes energy. They told me not to get more than a little design, because I'd need more calories."
"But no one is going to tell you what to do." I don't usually get sarcastic like that. The girl would never have survived Manticore. Never.
'Roxanne' lifted one hand out of the coat pocket, and signaled for a quiet exit. I followed her out of the alley and back onto the street.
"Not our problem," I whispered, and put my arm around Roxanne's shoulder. We picked up our pace. We were on our way home.
"We can't do anything for the mentally deficient," she agreed.
"Natural selection," I pointed out.
We stopped under a burned out street light. Her eyes were dark, dark, grey. "Let's follow her."
"She can't have gone far," I agree.