AN/ I really wanted to write a complete AU, so welcome to my steam powered story. Please take a look at the INDEXES. They will get you caught up and answer questions. If you ever have a question, please ASK, I am happy to answer! (and credit if it makes it to the Index!) I am trying to be gritty, but I will probably fail. LOL I'm not gritty by nature. Thanks for stopping, please give me a read!
A Dirty Urchin
Tell me something, boy
Aren't you tired tryin' to fill that void?
Or do you need more?
Ain't it hard keepin' it so hardcore? - Shallow by Lady Gaga ft. Bradley Cooper
Steam lines crossed with thick ropes of sparking electric wires and water pipes streaked with condensation dripped overhead, as I left the berth for the ship I call home, The Magdalene. A man hawking illegal diesel and propane tried to interest me in his wares. A joking bunch of ensigns quieted as I passed them, and I chuckled lightly. The starkly lit tunnel that connected the berths to the night shrouded under-city pier opened into the slightly cleaner scents of New Tokyo.
People thronged the pier, standing cheek to jowl with warped shopfronts. Just another dirty bunch of uneducated humans on the streets of New Tokyo. How many have I seen now? None of them special enough for me to risk my neck. None of them clean enough to risk my body, none of them old enough to... My eyes skimmed back, a girl, no, a young woman not too horribly dirty. The spark of determination in her eyes as she stared back.
I paused to study her, her clothing was below average. She looked uncomfortable in a navy polka dotted shirt with a wide ruffle veering into her cleavage paired with khaki canvas pants with a double row of brass buttons and leather boots with cracks running over the toes. It was hard to tell in the darkened pier, but the pants had seen better days. I chuckled inwardly, the blouse was at least ten years out of fashion, and that waistline didn't know a corset.
"What's your name?" I raised my hand, the light from blue flames illuminating the pack. Some ran, she crossed her arms over generous breasts.
"I need a job. You don't need my name." She seemed to hug herself, disguising those curves as if she'd forgotten to cover it earlier. Strange, if she was what I thought she was.
"Oh," My mouth, the soft upper lip contrasting with the burned, tortured bottom half, smiled, pulling the staples, "Then what shall I scream out whilst you wriggle beneath me?"
"I don't want that kind of job."
My flame winked out and my eyes widened. These street people would do anything for money. Anything. She intrigued me, "Do you find me hideous, girl?"
Her brows lowered, "No."
She scanned my face, her eyes sticking uncomfortably to the scars and metal ringing my eyes. Her gaze lowered to the band that makes up my jaw, neck, and the thick stretch across my upper chest that my shirt and coat didn't hide. Her head tipped as her eyes raised back to my ears, nothing but lumpy purple toned flesh and piercings. I felt cataloged. Sorted firmly into the 'broken' pile. I wished she'd hurry with her rejection so I could flash my credits, and make her weep for being a shallow whore.
"Not hideous. Although I think you're some kind of pervert, now."
Aghast at her frank words, I returned her gaze. She was sturdy, though not too well fed, with liquid brown eyes and hair the color of caramel. She wasn't too deep into what seemed to be her new status if she balked at prostitution. Not that I'd ever bought sex, but sometimes I bought company. Company that could use a bath and a big meal and someone who would just be there for me as long as I needed to feel human again.
I finally chuckled softly, "I am at that. But I don't buy what I can get for free, girl. You've been to school?"
"I don't see how that matters." Her eyes hardened even as pink rose to further darken her cheeks under the soot. "No, but I can read, write, do artitmatic. Mom teaches for whatever money our neighborhood can scrape together."
"I only wish to talk." I beckoned her closer, "I'll pay you..." I dug in a pocket, rattling my trench coat intentionally, "Here's fifty credits. That should fill your mother's belly." It would. That many credits would buy them food enough for a few days depending on how many mouths there were at home. I held it out, and she took it, the determination washing away under the onslaught of tears that made silver tracks on her cheeks.
"You only want to talk?"
She said it softly, looking back at my face, scanning my eyes for the lie. Her purity, the determination and steely will that she'd put on bold display before breaking down to tears that might have gotten her hurt, possibly dead, if shown to the wrong person.
"Just talk for now." I found her beguiling. I wanted to know her. "Maybe I could get you a job that will make you enough money to buy your parents electricity."
Her eyes widened and she moved, one quick decisive nod, "Please. Yes. I'll do..." She laughed, an unsteady giggle, "almost anything."
"My name's Dabi."
She tucked a long lock of brown hair behind a dainty ear, "I'm Ochaco."
3 Days Later - Ochaco
A small cast-iron stove heated the space near to insensibility. I fanned myself while mother divided our lunch into three. We always save a potion for dad when we can since we were able to rig a simple refrigerator that would run on our tiny generator. I glanced at his picture, a happier time for him and mom, put up in our one-room shanty-house in a bid to liven the atmosphere.
"O-chan!" A wharf rat that I was teaching to read ran into our home, rattling the corrugated steel when he rushed into the space. "O-chan, that guy, the burned man? He's back. He says he wants to see you." His round, dark eyes were lit with an inward light, "He gave me a 5 coin to come find you!"
I looked at my mom and back at the boy, "Slow down, Sato. He asked for me? By name?"
Sato nodded, suddenly serious, "Did I do bad? I told him I could find you." His eyes shifted as he plucked at his torn yukata, "Baby might go hungry if I can't have this money." His toes wriggled bare on the ground from wearing out the shoes he'd gotten in the allotment just a few months ago.
"I'll see if I can get you more." His smile returned. Sato and his mother were good people. "Take me there." Mom closed her mouth with a snap. She'd probably been about to warn me, but Dabi... Dabi was different from the other men who came looking for girls down at the lower piers. That, and how could she deny we'd been eating lunch bought with the credits I'd gotten for just sitting with him for a few hours while he... talked.
"He's on pier four, Old Taku's place." Sato smiled, "Thanks, O-chan."
We picked up the pace as I followed the racing boy down dark and moldering streets to the air piers. The same pier where I'd met him just a few days ago. I wondered what he wanted. If he needed to just unbend again, or listen to my tales, or just sleep. That's what had happened last time.
Old Taku was a floor manager at a big company once upon a time, before the King decided that he not only had to rule, but had to change who he ruled as well. Now he dug though the trash of the upper tiers of New Tokyo to upcycle to the same idiots that had thrown it out. He also ran a pier side coffee shop funded by the illegals who used the under-city piers.
Dabi lounged on what used to be a spool of fiber optic cable, but was now just a splintery seat adjacent to a rickety table that he'd be wise not to lean on. The tinkle of the bells sewn into the bead curtain that separated the shop from the street had Dabi glancing my way. Lights strung on the walls, built into tin cans for safety, brightened his dark hair. His eyes widened as he unbent his lanky frame with a small smile.
"Thanks, kid." He fumbled in his pocket.
I patted Sato, "His family needs the help if you can afford it."
He fished out handful of mixed 1 and 5 coins, pressing the mess into Sato's grubby fingers. "Tell your folks hello from the Magdalene."
Other heads turned, but I slapped my hand over my mouth as Sato whooped and ran from the store before word got around that he had loose change. The Magdalene? The rebels from that ship were legends in the under-city. Here, and around the world, if you believed the stories. If you needed help sticking it to the lord or lady in Kansas or Osaka, Nuevo Angeles or the French border towns, you could contact the Magdalene.
Dabi nodded at the table, a second chair pulled up, this one an old office chair with all of the casters broken off. I reigned in my surprise and sat.
"You drink coffee or tea?" Dabi said the words quietly, waiting for me to regain my footing.
"T-tea." I'd never had coffee before. It was far too expensive. I didn't like tea either, but with the water quality flowing into the warrens of New Tokyo it was the safest bet.
He waved at Taku, and the man poured hot, herbal scented green tea into a chipped mug that read 'Star Wars' on the side. My dad had told me that it was from before the war, a sci-fi movie. I sipped at it and waited for the scarred man to start talking.
"Cat got your tongue?"
I shook my head then laughed quietly, "I thought I'd never see you again. I'm a little surprised."
"Are you? I wanted to finish our talk."
"Bad enough to pay Sato a small fortune?" I gave him a coy grin, "I didn't know I was that good of a conversationalist."
"Even so." He smiled, his bottom lip twisting with the movement, "Are you interested in working? On a long term basis?"
I studied him in the bright daylight pouring though the holes in the roof and the beaded curtain that served as a door. His dark hair stood in an untidy halo, framing a face with the loveliest eyes I'd ever seen. Bright robin's egg blue and clear as the sky. He watched me back, those gorgeous eyes softening as they studied me.
"Okay?" I tilted my head, feeling a strange heat crawl down my neck and pool in my stomach. I wasn't embarrassed? Was I?
Those shining eyes stared at me, "I'd like to offer you a job."
"Sure." I smiled, "I have time to talk."
He nodded, "A forever kind of job. On the Magdalene."
"You weren't just blowing poor Sato's mind? You're really with the Magdalene?"
He tipped his head, his long fingered hand coming up to gesture, "Yes. I want to confess. When we spoke, your story..." He broke off, those svelte fingers tightening into a fist, "I'll give you some seed money to leave with your parents." He cleared his throat, "Ochaco, just think! You could help others in your situation. You could be the hero you want to be."
"I-I.." I thought my blush was unwarranted before, now I was drowning in it, "I do remember what we talked about. Helping others, making my parent's lives easier."
"The Magdalene..." He reached toward me, trapping my fingers in his grip. It was warm, firm, with just the slightest hint of nervous moisture. "We can use more people like you. People who want to do more than just live with the system the way it is. You teach! You help others, even when your own belly is empty."
I felt stinging in my eyes. Here was my chance, if I was brave enough to leap. A tear slipped down my cheek, dripping on that drunken table. "I have to tell my mom. Dad is working, but, I need to tell her, grab my things."
Dabi nodded, a smile erupting on his lips, "I'll come. Welcome aboard, Miss..." He laughed, "I don't know your last name."
"Uraraka."
"Miss Uraraka. It's not an easy life, and I hope you're ready to continue getting educated. But, I promise, we'll do things that will expand your world, and make it a better place to live in in the bargain."
I nodded eagerly, grabbing up the mug and drinking the tea as quickly as I could, "Let's go."
AN/ Thanks go to my beta, Mr Mosevic. 50 credits is about 100 USD. A fortune in a place where a 5 credit coin means the difference between going to bed hungry or not. For more info, please check the INDEX. Any questions will be credited and answered on it, so hit me up. Leave a like or drop a line, you don't know how happy a little note will make me!
