It's my only choice.
It's my only choice.
It's my only choice.
I just have to keep repeating that to myself as I walk through the fancy party. The fancy party filled with executives from Hyperion.
Because I am on Pandora.
Hahahahaha.
Oh it's not the Pandora from the games. Cause see, that's a fictional universe. This is reality. See, in order for this to be real, some things had to be toned up, toned down or completely different from what the game would show you.
Because a game is for entertainment.
If you bought a game that was just 'corporate hellscape' with no way to 'win' or any kind of catharsis… well, nobody would play it.
In this world, everything is unbearably mundane in so many ways. Unless you work for a corporate company like Maliwan, Torgue… Hyperion.
Apparently the games had played up the corporate murder angle- but it still exists. Specifically the CEO can order the death of anyone who hasn't followed the terms stipulated in their work contract. And sometimes people 'disappeared' so that someone else could take their position.
But it isn't as in-your-face or as often as the games depicted, so far as I can tell.
And breaking work contracts is something like 'corporate espionage' and 'purposefully failing to sabotage from within' and shit like that. And since the Corporations work like their own countries, it's basically the same 'treason' laws that I've always lived with.
Except now, someone can frame you and take your job and likely never get found out because the people in this universe are just that scary-good at this shit.
The only way to survive here as my meek, non-killer self, is to attach myself to someone threatening. So threatening that barely anyone will fuck with them. And that leaves very few options. Especially considering I have no idea how any of this tech works, I have no skills for anything useful to these people and I'm really weak so I can't fight off raiders or bandits or whatever the fuck they are.
Which means going after an executive. Any executive with the power, reputation and ability to keep themselves alive for a long while. Which means someone established.
Someone who's lasted more than a year in their current position at least. Even people who look promising but have only been at the job for a month could be ousted due to a lack of experience so I have to pick someone good.
The only problem with my idea is that my 'parents' are also executives. Rather, the parents of the woman this body belongs to, are also executives. Tediore executives. And their jobs are not that high-rung or that secure. But my 'father' is… like. Extremely ambitious. So extremely ambitious.
It's to the point now, that I'm afraid he's going to piss off the head executives, get killed and put me on the street, destitute, because dear mother can't conceive of the fact that her daughter now has brain damage and has no idea how to care for herself.
She's still complaining that I haven't gotten a job. A job where!?
I had to use 'brain damage' to explain why I don't remember my life, my family or how to do a lot of things. The doctors were baffled, but I was obviously not the same as the person whose body I'm inhabiting, so her family vouched that something was wrong with me.
Thought maybe if I came to this party where all the Executives were meeting in neutral territory to discuss business, I could find someone halfway decent who wasn't already married or something… and just…
Ugh, this was a terrible idea.
I make my way across the party, to the door and let myself out into the backyard.
It's dark, because the exterior lights in Opportunity haven't been set up yet.
Oh yeah, that's another thing that's different. Opportunity isn't the first Corporate town to exist. It's just the first Hyperion town. They're lagging behind- and now only catching up because of. Well.
"Ugh," I blink my eyes wide and see the sort of outline of a bench. I go walking over and fumble with my hands over it.
"Whoa," a voice and then warm hands wrap around my wrists. "Hey now, I only get frisky after dinner and drinks. Unless you ask nicely."
I cough a little, trying not to choke on hysterical laughter. I always laugh when I'm nervous. "S-sorry. Can't see."
"Yeah I got that, Babydoll," he says. "How about you take a seat right here and don't move?"
He actually uses my arm to spin me around, sending me hurtling downward onto the bench in one smooth move. In a perfect position, actually. Like I didn't bang into the armrest or anything.
"Uh… thank you?" I don't know if I should be thanking him, but it can't hurt to err on the side of caution.
The chuckle he gives me for that makes a shudder race up my spine. Not only because it's absolutely gorgeous, but because the laugh itself seems… familiar? Not that familiar…
The game is not a one-to-one representation of things, so people are slightly different. Their voices, appearances… though some are almost spot on.
"So what brings you out to the sad chair?" he asks. "I'm doing drugs. Everything is super swirly right now, like I cannot even tell you… how many times I've tried getting up and it's- just not happenin'."
I sigh. "I was just… I wondered if I might meet someone here, but nobody is… quite right."
"Meet someone?" he echoes. "Ohhhh haha, I saw your outfit when you opened the back door. You're looking for a sugar daddy, huh?"
Blushing clear to my roots, I plant my face in my hands, my elbows on my knees. "Oh god, is it obvious?"
"Well that was the point, right?" he asks. Nearly coaxing. "I mean, you wouldn't have worn that outfit if you didn't wanna be noticed, and in a specific way."
The way he talks is way too lucid for someone who's high. But he keeps making small noises like he tried getting up and had to settle back down because he's dizzy so…either he's lying for no good reason and putting on an act or he's just a super intelligent person and drugs can't dull it.
"Yeah but only by the people looking. If everyone else can see-" I cut off and sigh. "There's a line of subtlety, did I just miss it or did I leap over it?"
"Oh you definitely leapt," he has laughter in his voice. "I mean, being honest, I've never seen a girl work that kind of outfit and look authoritative before, but you managed to pull that off, so don't worry too much about it."
"Authoritative?" I question, a little tentatively.
"Yeah, like you're not looking for any old sugar daddy. You're looking for somebody special," he says. "Somebody who can compete with you on the same level. That look in your eye like you want a challenge."
"You got that from a two second door opening and closing?" I say, incredulous.
He barks a laugh. "God no, I saw you inside. I was walking around and somebody was -eh- was eyeballing you and I thought it was a little weird how you were dressed like that- but you kept turning people away and sitting in a corner? Was interesting."
I frown to hide my embarrassment- not like it matters, it's pitch black out here.
"I just don't know how to ask for what I want in a casual way that won't sound terrible or put me at a disadvantage," I say.
This person is a complete stranger, but somehow that makes it feel safer to say these things.
"What do you want?" he asks. "Faithfulness is probably askin' too much, just puttin' that out there. You're not allowed to make demands like that of a guy who pays your bills for sex, usually."
I flinch and grimace, but he isn't wrong.
"I was mostly hoping not to be the other woman. I don't care if they have a lot of casual sex or a really understanding wife or girlfriend- or whatever. I just don't want a situation where someone will find out about me and then try to kill me."
"Meh," he shrugs, I can hear the cloth move. "Most people who have husbands like that, kinda expect it to happen at some point. And I hear the husbands get it most often. But I mean that's an achievable goal. Look at you being all reasonable and shit."
I snort. Something about the way he talks is also familiar. And it makes me feel… almost giddy?
"I just don't want to call it that, either," I say. "I don't like that whole… 'daddy' kink, ugh, just saying it is gross."
"Have'ta agree with you there. I gotta little girl myself and I don't want anybody else calling me 'daddy', god that's weird," he says. "I don't even get it, is it like they're a bunch of pedophiles who wanna get off to the thought of fucking their daughter, what is it? Makes me wanna shoot something."
My back goes rigid. "Uh… I dunno… um. I think I should go back ins-"
"Ohoho my god, you just now figured out who I am," he says, with a mad cackle. "That's good stuff!"
"If you could stop reading my mind, that'd be spectacular," I reply in an irate tone, trying to be casual and normal-
OH MY GOD. I am going to die.
"Hahahahahah," he giggles madly. "Man, people are usually either ass-kissing or cowering at this point. Kudos on keeping your head, I guess? Ahhhh. I really love these drugs, Babydoll. Like, so much."
"Why are you doing them?" I ask, because I am a complete dumbass.
There's a really obvious pause.
"Sorry, ignore me," I sigh. "I have this nurturing instinct, it makes me a terrible busybody. I thought you'd need a reason and that I could help. But I keep forgetting strangers… don't always like that."
"Haha," he chuckles a little. "That's funny. I don't think I've ever met anyone who admitted to being 'nurturing'."
Right. Another reason why I am a dumbass. People here will jump on any perceived weakness and use it against you. Being 'kind' is a weakness, here.
"I just… well, I woke up from a coma with no memories," I say. Trying to play up the naivete a little, in hopes that instead of a weak point in my armor, he'll perceive it as all weakness and lose interest. Like I'm no threat to him at all. "I keep being surprised by all the hostility people have toward being nice to each other. My family was nice to me, so I thought it was normal…"
"Your family was nice to you?" he asks, chuckling a little. "Wow, you must have some nice folks, huh?"
"They were probably just taking pity on me," I reply. "Trying not to push me too hard, so they could get their 'real' daughter back. They've started… ehm. Being kind of rude, lately."
"Easing you into it, huh," he says. "Sounds like okay parents. For Pandora, anyway."
There's bitterness in his tone. I can understand it, I guess.
Jack is like an extreme… uhhhh what was it, again? The Commander? It was one of those personality types in the meyers-briggs thing. Dominating, ruthless, but charismatic?
But he's also got that 'unrealistic' thing from the mediator types. The whole 'I want people to be good but they won't and it's driving me insane' thing.
Thinking about it now, I can remember why I identified with him so much and liked his character. His wife was killed by a bandit- I refuse to think of it as Angels' fault -and because of the power his daughter showed at that time, he became terrified of her. But he still loved her. So his solution?
Lock her in a cage where nothing can hurt her, and she can't hurt anyone else, either. And then when he realized he could use her powers to try and 'make the world a better place', he really started to spiral…
He did it because he believed that the world could be saved and that he knew the exact right way to do it.
Back then, he was spiraling, but… he was still at least somewhat human. A good-ish person. He tried to trust people and give them second chances. And then they betrayed him, turning him into what he is today. Or. Rather. What he was during all of Borderlands 2.
The funny thing is, Jack might've never turned into the megalomaniac he is now, if it weren't for those betrayals. He might've ended up just hunting the 'Bandits' and 'Raiders' and left everyone else alone. I mean, he always planned to use a superweapon, but he'd had a much more discriminating mind before the vault symbol got punched into his face- and before Moxxi betrayed him. And before the Meriff tried to shoot him in the back.
If I could be completely candid, I'd tell him that I sympathized. That he's had a shit life. It doesn't justify anything he did in the game- but this isn't the game.
I still have no idea how much of it is real and fiction… he hides everything about himself, and I'd know, because I tried to look him up and got zilch.
".…that's a sticking point, actually," I say as I shift on the bench. "Most people wouldn't trust me enough to let me… 'take care' of them. At least, not in the way I'd like to. I'd probably have to agree to something like…well, like being locked up in a penthouse with guards 24/7 and no contact with the outside world. I might not mind that, as long as I had stuff to do for fun, access to the web… but they might not let their guard down with me, even after all that."
"Why would you need them to?" he asks, a slight edge to his tone. "It isn't enough that they'd trust you enough to be alone with you in a vulnerable way?"
"Well yeah," I say, hesitant. "But… part of me will always wonder, if I tried harder, if I could… make them feel better. Give them a safe place to come home to, a place where they'd never have to fear me. And that would make me miserable. But I'd be able to put up with it, I guess. That's why I thought this was my best option. At least for now."
"What's so good about taking care of people?" he scoffs. "They just end up stabbing you in the back, anyway."
"Not if there's nothing to gain," I reply. "If I don't have connections and I offer to give up everything I have now, in favor of things only they have given me, then I'm completely in their control. Under their aegis. I have nothing to give but caretaking and they have nothing to take but my affections. If they killed me, it'd just be a loss. And sure they might do it anyway, but most people would hesitate to hurt themselves like that."
A slight pause and then… "wow. And here I was thinkin' you were totally naive. Not so innocent, are you, sweetpea?"
"Innocent, yes," I reply. "Naive and ignorant, no. Innocence only refers to whether or not you've done anything wrong, after all."
A raucous bark of a laugh. "Right! And since you're like a new person…"
His voice trails off.
I get this weird feeling like he's staring at me.
Clearing my throat, I stand up. "Uh well, it was nice talking to you, Jack. But I have to find my parents. If they can't clap their eyes on me every hour on the hour, they get… antsy."
He tsks. "Disappointing. I was havin' fun with our little chat. Go on, don't keep 'em waiting. Be seein' ya around, Babydoll."