In my world, good men are either bought, or broken. So which is it going to be?
I hope senpai notices me.
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@nohoverzone-blog
In my world, good men are either bought, or broken. So which is it going to be?
I hope senpai notices me.
constant-state-of-panic is in a no hover zone!
“And where is it you work?” These days the split between Baron supporters and Underground fighters seemed very much down the middle. Normally, #157 would do his best to not notice Underground activity as he wasn’t so fond of the Baron either, but ever since that bounty went up and the Baron started paying more for caught Underground fighters… in this economy, #157 would have to be suicidal not to press any possible Undergrounder for them to slip.
Vin almost let out a annoyed groan as he get questioned more. But he knew he had to awnser
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#157 narrowed his eyes behind his mask. The guy was jumpy but he'd definitely seen the prematurely-white-haired nerd around and he was calm now that they were talking about where he worked.
"... Alright." He closed the pass and tossed it back at him. "Get back safe." Indeed if Vin went missing or injured, it'd be hell trying to figure out the eco grids.
constant-state-of-panic is in a no hover zone!
#157 checked the pass. It was legitimate, but he kept a stoic expression as he looked from the picture to Vin and back.
“What’re you doing out so late?” He questioned while keeping the pass in his hand and the other held his rifle.
If the person in front of him wasn’t a KG, Vin would have rolled his eyes. He let out a small yawn, staring at his pass in the bigger guy’s hands.
“Day’s work is over. So i’m heading to my bed.” He said innocently
"And where is it you work?" These days the split between Baron supporters and Underground fighters seemed very much down the middle. Normally, #157 would do his best to not notice Underground activity as he wasn't so fond of the Baron either, but ever since that bounty went up and the Baron started paying more for caught Underground fighters... in this economy, #157 would have to be suicidal not to press any possible Undergrounder for them to slip.
nohoverzone started following you
Lily chuckled at his question. “Safe?” She repeated. “No place is safe; inside the city or outside the walls, I am in danger.” She took another drink before speaking again.
“You’ve probably seen it, the tent in the Bazaar? The blind old sooth-sayer took me in. The tarp is thin, and sometimes the nights are cold, but with her I’m as safe as I’ll ever be…”
#157 frowned but nodded. It must’ve been hell for her, going from the Palace and a husband to a tarp and a blind fortune teller. It was practically blasphemy but not since the Baron took over. To that power, Lily’s fate was more than deserved.
Klara looked to #157 and quietly got up and left to a different room.
“I can’t do much.” The guard admitted, looking down at the coffee table between them. “But I can talk a few guys into giving me the Bazaar shifts… and-“
On cue, Klara returned with an armful of folded fluffy blankets they used for their guest room. WIthin the folds she’d hidden the baby clothes she’d bought a few years ago but never had the chance to use. She set them down next to Lily with an apologetic smile. Her husband was still a low-rank guard, so at least helping with the ex-Queen’s living conditions could help. #157 murmured a thank-you to his wife.
Lily looked at the pile of blankets in confusion. Why were these people trying to help her. She had pretty much lost all hope of there ever being a kind soul in Haven City ever again, and here the Precursors had blessed her with two such people. One offering her blankets and water and the other providing a relative sense of safety.
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#157 was surprised by her sudden outburst, though he could understand it, and he shook his head, avoiding her gaze. Women crying was not something he was comfortable with.
"No, it's the least we can do." He insisted gently. "You've done enough for the city."
Klara, though, was more than ready to sit down by the ex-Queen and rub her back, murmuring that it'd be okay while #157 nudged the box of tissues on the coffee table towards them.
“After five.” She nodded. Time for her to go, but at least she’d get to chat with him tomorrow, maybe. It certainly beat just wandering the city or the woods. Now, what was that phrase they all used here? Something like… Oh, yes.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, #157.” Numbers, oi vey. Cam stood up and offered her hand again, this time expecting a shake. “Say hi to the missus.” That was another thing they said, right? Offered greetings to the kin in that way?
The whole set of social things that city people did to one another still had Cam scratching her head sometimes.
#157 couldn't help a grin. She was way less barbaric than the KG made marauders out to be. He nodded and shook her hand back warmly.
"You too, Cam. And will do. You say hi to your baby, yeah?" He winked in response and watched her head out.
Headcanon of #156 and #158
Of course #157 knew guards #156 and #158. They were the men beside him in line at each company meeting, the first people he met upon caving and joining the KG. #156 was an enthusiastic kid, just turned 16 and set on joining the force, possibly just to skip those last two compulsory years of school, #158 was a gentleman only a few years older than him, his skin weathered and worn and a prosthetic leg from an incident in the Wasteland.
#157 chuckled and raised his pint to her.
“Yeah, alright.” He agreed to that. It’d be great if the kid did make it, really. It was his dream to get to Kras and he could live without it… But there was no way he wanted it to be taken from another person. When she complimented him he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Thanks. You’re not bad for a marauder.” He shrugged, but the smile didn’t leave his face.
“Psh, most of us ain’t that bad. It’s only the coastal Marauders that are dicks most of the time.” She shrugged. “If you see someone with a mask like mine but a shitton of spikes? Probably a coastal Marauder.”
She doubted they’d come here to Haven, though. It was a long journey and the city itself was too well defended to be the sort of easy target that tribe preferred to go after. Anyway, she’d only bothered explaining because she figured it’d be unfortunate if he felt like he could get chummy with someone from that tribe. Never went well.
“You got any other nights off this week?” Maybe she could come and have another drink with him sometime, before she left for Kras. It’d be a nice way to unwind a little before getting out onto the tracks. And if not, well, maybe she could at least keep in touch. He seemed a nice enough guy to, perhaps, call friend one day.
#157 nodded, though he didn't think he'd ever seen any Marauder other than her. It was still good to know which is which, and maybe avoid any unpleasantness with Cameo's group.
"Uhh, yeah I usually have day shifts..." He paused to recall his schedule. He was surprised she was asking but, then again, he was pretty attractive for his age, so #157 understood.
"Yeah, tomorrow and the day after I'll be here after 5." He nodded again in confirmation
KG oc’s!
On the left is Butter’s oc Ajay!
One the right is my KG oc
THIS WOULD NOT HAPPEN IF THEY WERE SOBER.
DRUNK BITCHES.
Oh man last night was crazy! I can’t believe they let me into the officer’s club! I guess killing two metal-saurs is enough to let you in for the night!
HEY YOU SAID YOU'D KEEP THAT CONFIDENTIAL
KG #157's emotions are everywhere.
“Thanks, man.” Damn it felt weird calling somebody by a number. So she wasn’t going to use his ‘name’ unless she really had to.
But, really, the fact that he actually was going to be keeping an eye out for her? The fact that he’d watch a race or two? It made her grin widen. “Hey, if I make it out there, I’ll sign your armor or something next time I’m in town.” She was kidding, of course. She had a feeling that marking up their armor wasn’t allowed, and besides, he probably wouldn’t actually want the signature of a ‘punk rookie.’
It was a way to keep the mood light though. “You know, you’re not so bad. For a Guard.” And she meant it, too.
#157 chuckled and raised his pint to her.
"Yeah, alright." He agreed to that. It'd be great if the kid did make it, really. It was his dream to get to Kras and he could live without it... But there was no way he wanted it to be taken from another person. When she complimented him he couldn't help but laugh.
"Thanks. You're not bad for a marauder." He shrugged, but the smile didn't leave his face.
“My baby?” Cam’s grin widened behind her mask. Although he’d thrown her off by shaking her hand(what, did city-dwellers do that instead of wrist clasps?), his questions about her car had her right on track again. “She’s more’n just a buggy. She was originally meant for racing on roads and tracks in cities and stuff. Had to modify her a helluva lot to get her to slip over sand easily.”
Now, though? She could handle the dunes in her baby like they were no big thing. “Had to get wider wheels for better traction, seal up a few crevices and tighten up the handling a little bit. Bigger guns and some better armor on the chasis. Some tweaking in the engines so it can handle the extra strain, that sort of thing.” She’d put a lot of time and effort into her car and had never had to gush about it before. It was hard to stop.
“Javelins are great cars but handling them can be a bit tricky. Not too hard to get used to with practice. I think I’m going to have to change her around a little again when I get to Kras, though. Streets aren’t much like the dunes from what I can tell.”
#157 couldn't help a smile crossing his face as Cam spoke so enthusiastically about her buggy. It reminded him of himself years ago, when he had his zoomer and would talk about nothing else. He took a few sips of beer as she described it, taking his time to imagine the buggy.
"You'll definitely need different tires, the streets aren't as finnicky as sand." He agreed.
"She sounds like a real winner." He nodded appreciatively. "I'll watch for you." He didn't know just how far a young kid like her could get, but he'd seen some young kids get quite a ways into the races before.
OOC
YOU GUYS REMEMBER WHEN I MADE THIS BLOG TO MAKE FUN OF RANDOM KRIMZON GUARDS?
I HONESTLY INTENDED TO MAKE THAT DIARY POST ABOUT GETTING HIT BY A ZOOMER AND THAT'S IT OH MY GOD.
“… Yeah, maybe.” He mumbled. There was something about being incapable that made him want to have a biological kid to show off to the world, but… it’d likely save them another emotional rollercoaster to simply adopt.
“Huh?” He was surprised to be asked that and he looked curiously at the marauder. “Uh… Just #157’s fine.” He said sheepishly, quickly taking another swig of beer.
“#157? A number?” Must be his KG code or something. Did they lose their names upon joining or did he just not want to share? What odd people.
“Cameo. Or just Cam is fine.” She offered her hand out for a wrist-clasp. “Keep an eye out for my name on Kras city racing boards.” She couldn’t resist. She’d had to tack that on. Partially to get rid of the slight tension that remained and partially because she wanted to know the guy would have something to look forward to besides constant yak’shit guard duties.
"When I joined the KG, yeah. I'm more used to that than my name." He gave a half-smile.
"Cam, got it." He nodded and set down his beer to shake her hand. She wasn't too bad for a punk. And she could race, too!
"Tell me about your dune buggy, you said a Javelin?" He'd only watched combat racing on the holovision before but never fully understood those "wheels" and how they were better than a zoomer's a-grav.
“…It happens sometimes.” Something about his tone had her wondering if that was the real reason, but she didn’t bother pursuing the subject. If he hadn’t told her the real reason now, he probably wasn’t going to. “So adopt.” She shrugged, choosing to react to his sudden change of demeanor by not reacting.
“Plenty of kids who need good homes. Especially in this city.” The last, she’d muttered under her breath before finishing off her pint and pulling her mask all the way down again. Hell, she’d been adopted and as far as she was concerned it was the best thing that’d ever happened to her. If he couldn’t have a child naturally then why not bring in a child who needed a home anyway?
But this was a subject that had him getting twitchy. That wasn’t what she was here for. Time to change topics. “Got somethin’ I can call you?”
"... Yeah, maybe." He mumbled. There was something about being incapable that made him want to have a biological kid to show off to the world, but... it'd likely save them another emotional rollercoaster to simply adopt.
"Huh?" He was surprised to be asked that and he looked curiously at the marauder. "Uh... Just #157's fine." He said sheepishly, quickly taking another swig of beer.
“Do you not want kids or something?” It wasn’t really any of her business, but that’d never stopped her before.
His explanation of why he was still working for that Praxis asshole put her a little more at ease. It certainly made enough sense, and she could respect his reasons. It was the only way to look out for his kin, so he did it even though he’d rather do something else. It was better reasons than she’d expected from him, definitely.
It occurred to her that she was possibly looking at a future version of herself. That she wouldn’t make it in Kras, that she’d be forced to take jobs she didn’t care for to keep herself and her close ones afloat. It also occurred to her that she was shoving that thought away almost as soon as it’d formed. She was going to make it. She wouldn’t end up like this, between a rock and a hard place.
#157 frowned when she asked and he took a slow drink of his new beer. When it just wasn't happening they went to the doctor's and... damnit, he remembered that visit too well. There had to be something wrong with the tests, he refused to believe he of all people was sterile.
"I think she's barren." He said roughly, wiping his mouth as if he could pretend he wasn't the one talking. He didn't want to disrespect her, she'd been nothing but good to him, but if there was a problem #157 just couldn't pin it on himself like that.
Cam made no comment. He’d tried, he hadn’t made it, he’d become a guard for a nutty dictator. Apparently that was life here. Fuckin’ crazy city people.
She was about to take another sip of beer when he mentioned his lady. Shit, this guy had family? She set her pint down and looked at him more carefully. While wandering around the city she’d seen the ‘KG’ rounding up people for the lowest of crimes, or simply no reason at all, and manhandling and arresting them. In one case they’d executed someone accused of being part of some ‘Underground’ right there in the street. No reason, no honor.
How could a man like that have a family, too? How could a man be part of that and still be human enough to love someone else? She voiced none of these questions, though her grip tightened on her mug.
#157 enjoyed the silence as he took another drink and reflected on those years... they weren't wasted, were they?
"Well." He sighed and set the empty pint down, tapping the bar when the woman came over to order another. "That's over with and now I'm here." He looked over at the marauder. "I joined when King Damas was still ruling. Now with the Baron I have to either stick with the KG or go get a crap job in the marketplace or something." He didn't doubt he could probably be a bouncer or take on shipping cargo, but none of it paid as well as the KG.
"Believe me, if there were better jobs, I'd take 'em, but Klara's folks aren't about to send a couple of thirty-somethings money for rent." He ran his fingers through his hair, grimacing slightly. "At least, not until they get that grandkid..." They were sweet for inlaws, but they really pushed the whole baby thing and with the current situation it wasn't exactly a priority.
“Zoomer racing, mm? Never competed on one of those before.” There weren’t many zoomers in the wasteland, period. The sand tended to gunk up the systems pretty badly. “I do combat racing, myself. I’ve got a modded Javelin X as my baby.”
Obviously her style was far different than his had been, but she still wanted to share her own racing stuff with him. He certainly seemed to still enjoy the topic, and that was something they had in common. She sipped her beer again, lifting a leg so her ankle rested on her other knee. “Kras is tough. Even some really skilled racers never make it there. A lot who do get killed.”
Maybe not in zoomer racing, but she didn’t really follow that anyway. “Were you any good?”
"I thought I was." #157 said sheepishly, recalling all those companies who watched him race and rejected him.
"I guess so... I was still in Haven, we could pull off some drag races at night, but anything like those buggies would have the KG on us in a second." All those late, partially intoxicated nights... He sure was lucky to have no scars from it.
"It... It was kinda a stupid hobby, really. I thought I could actually go to Kras and... Damn, I dunno how Klara's stuck through that." At the time she was his girlfriend, but she managed to support and encourage him all through his racing dream, no matter how dangerous and unlikely it was. #157 took a slow drink of his beer, he hadn't thought about all that in ages.