G A L V A N I Z E

xavier kelada. 29. ex-military. solo.

[whovian-on-ice]

[la-culebra-deactivated20151223]

        ❝ Not in this life. Got bad news for you though—if it’s been more than an hour and                                       they still haven’t called then you’re wasting your time here. ❞

     Didn’t have it in her to actually care about someone else’s problem but answered anyway, deciding against being rude this one time. Found it to be an odd way of acknowledging her company after half an hour of silent indifference but figured that none of it was personal. Didn’t look like an ordinary man and didn’t act the part either, so she had to admit to herself that she was at least a little bit curious. 

[xavierkelada-blog]

          “Yes, well, I figured out that bit,” he said in a wry voice, nose wrinkling in mild annoyance (directed at his unpunctual client, not the women). The timestamp blinked in the bottom left corner of his cyberoptics, notifying him that there was a mere hour left until the patrol would be out in the streets, looking for rule-breakers. Was this why Mx. Hertz wasn’t able to make it to their scheduled meeting? 

          Ironically enough, the curfew brought him an increased number of clients, mainly consisting of Fixers and the like looking for extra security from the cops while they went about their business. In this case, it seemed like the same curfew was what had discouraged his client from showing up.

          “—This curfew isn’t certainly helping.”

[hadleyarcos-blog-deactivated202]

“Oh,” Hadley brought her hands up to cover her mouth, not believing he would have heard her. It was probably offensive. Probably? Not it was. She watched him, wondering if he was going to say something else, but the concern for her own well-being was unexpected as well.

“Fine–I’m fine,” she waved her hand dismissively, offering a soft chuckle, hoping he wouldn’t be offended at her as well as hoping her nerves wouldn’t get the best of her. She tried to face him, but kept her head low and her eyes only darted to him, the ground and sometimes the dog. Always hesitant around dogs, she didn’t know who to watch out for in this case.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, wincing as she looked to him. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said. It was just… some stupid comment. I know your leg’s got some drawbacks like mine do.” Another laugh, but it was edging on a nervous one, trying to relieve herself of the discomfort inside her.

[xavierkelada-blog]

          Xavier opened his mouth to interject, about to ask her what exactly she was apologizing for, then blinked. “It usually takes a lot more than that for me to be offended," he replied eventually, monotonous but half in jest. It was a passing remark meant for no one’s ears but her own, nothing more. Besides, if he was bothered by that, he wouldn’t even be living in Night City.

          At her words, he let his gaze fall down to his left leg and arm, patches of synthetic skin torn away to reveal the metal underneath. Drawbacks, yes, he supposed there were some. He never thought of them like that, though. His prosthetics were just... prosthetics. Sometimes they were a hassle (getting them fixed cost more than he would have preferred), other times an invaluable asset (namely when he was on his job). But overall, they were—

          “—A necessity. That’s what they are.” (Meanwhile, Micah greeted the strange human with a suspicious sniff at her running shoes.) “It’s certainly faster. But the balance takes some getting used to,” he admitted.

[runner-dex]

  Dex very nearly arched a brow at him he’d never thought that Xavier, a solo no less, would drink lattes. His lips twitched as if they were going to form a smile but he just shuffled and settled into his seat, leaning against the back of the chair. Busier made sense, he hadn’t seen him all that much lately but that was partly his fault given Dex was now supposed to be calling on him. He nodded and then this time around he cracked a small smile, momentous given his usual almost bewildered indifference.

  “Everyones annoyed,” he said quietly, “more patrols on the net too, fixer that buys information off me wouldn’t stop going on about the curfew”. Granted it was severely affecting their business but Dexter wasn’t overly interested in hearing a criminal’s woes. He wasn’t much better himself but he liked to think that at least he had a good cause in mind. Liberating humanity. Someday.

  “Yeah, noticed,” he hadn’t overly noticed it getting any rougher in the city—other than the protests of course. Everything else was just the mundane average day but perhaps that was because he grew up in the south. Their drinks came, he quite was relatively quick to open the can and take a sip. “It’s about time,” he muttered, people had been sleeping for far too long, it was time there was fire in their hearts and hands.

  “I haven’t checked the feeds lately—has anything else happened?” For all he knew the protestors could’ve rallied again and burnt half the city down, he kept to himself and usually that meant in solitary in his apartment.

[xavierkelada-blog]

          He made a small noise that resembled a grunt of agreement. Few people were benefiting from this curfew. Even for him, it was a double-edged sword. There were more requests for bodyguards, especially those who dealt with the mobs or underground organizations; their jobs required them to frequently break curfew, yet getting caught entailed disastrous consequences. So paying money for additional protection, Xavier presumed, was their go-to option. But in this case, more gigs not only meant more money but also exposed him. Xav refrained from taking any sides, but being seen together with Fixers after curfew too often wouldn't do him any good. Especially considering how tense things were around here.

          He had no choice but to be extra careful, then. Xavier shook his head. "I don't think so. Nothing too big," he said, raising the warm cup of coffee to his lips to take a sip. (How surreal this moment of peace was!)

          "And here I thought I'd left the war behind," added Xav, dry and cynical but with a hint of genuine concern. "The bombing—I didn't expect that to actually happen," he admitted. "And now this curfew. It feels like the beginning of the end."

          There was a pause, and a glance thrown at Dexter. Now that Athena was out of the picture, it was up to the boy—who was his employer, Xavier suppressed a snort at the thought—to call on him for protection. "How are you faring?"

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[runner-dex]

  Busying himself with following Xavier inside, and following the sound of his voice and shuffling to find himself a seat, the humour to his tone was lost on him. “Don’t think so,” there was a slight roll of his shoulders as he sat down, moments like these wished his headgear was working. If the café, restaurant, wherever he was had a menu on the net he could see it that way. Just another way he was dependent on technology, better to be tech than someone else.

  “She’s busy I guess,” Dex answered, knew what he wanted anyway, had been here countless of times before and knew the menu off by heart. Waited till he heard the less than chipper waiter come to take their order, tilted his head up so sightless green eyes could vaguely meet his.

  “I’ll have an oreo sundae, and a can of ghost.”

  Slouched in the seat a little bit, head turned back to Xav, not that it mattered a great deal. Fingers curled up and pulled the cuffs of his sleeves down over his hands, “so you been busy?” It was a meagre attempt to make small talk, Dexter was profoundly skilled at anything that didn’t involve the absolute minimum amount of words necessary. He could however, fight his corner for his beliefs, but that wasn’t something Dex shouted on the streets.

[xavierkelada-blog]

         “—Just a latte, please,” he said, opting for a generic choice instead of going through the menu. It had been a while since he last went out for a meal. Usually it was just him and his wolfdog in the apartment with takeouts, or food cooked by himself if he wasn’t feeling too lazy. His day-to-day life could be described as quiet and solitary—apart from work, that was. Work was different; the air around him transformed into something sharper, colder, meaner. (And more neurotic.) This was who Xavier Kelada was as a Solo.

         “Busier than usual, I guess.” Should he let Dexter know of his search—and the consequent encounter with John? For the time being, Xav decided not to. It could wait. He shrugged. “This curfew—it’s pissing off a lot of people. Fixers wanna go around but don’t wanna get caught. More work for me,” he added with a small, wry smile. (To any other person, he wouldn’t have divulged such details of his work; this was, perhaps, an indication of how close he and Dex had grown.)

          Night City had always been tough, but things were becoming increasingly more agitated as time passed. Tensions were high, air taut with unspoken whispers. There were times he considered leaving the city, wondering if any other place would be better than here. He could go to New York where his parents resided—but then again, they thought he was still working for Militech. He wasn’t sure how well they would take the news of their son making money via less-than-legal means.

          “It’s getting rougher around here, do you notice?” His lips thinned in quiet distaste. “All this... discontent. It’s gonna burst into flames sooner or later.”

[hadleyarcos-blog-deactivated202]

Hadley’s sprinting exercise came to a stop and she grabbed at the nearest thing she could to hold onto. It was a bench so she took it to sit. Sweat was running down her face  as she tried to catch her breath. Just as she did, someone else was coming up, running too. It was clear they had cyberlimbs, their legs not matching their skin tone. “That’s not fair,” she breathed to herself as they passed by, grabbing at her knees, and glanced down at her legs. Legs with joints that ached, with muscles that got sore. “I mean that’s just showing off.”

[xavierkelada-blog]

          Physical exercise, Xavier had discovered, was akin to meditation. Heaving breaths and the thump-thump-thump of his heart were all that demanded his attention. No nightmares plaguing his thoughts, no concerns. Just the rhythmic movements of his limbs and his wolfdog, Micah, running alongside him like the loyal companion she was. The noisy world faded when he ran.

          Xav couldn’t help but catch the young woman’s mutter as he passed her by. Whether the remark was directed at him or another jogger, he didn’t know. Still, a ghost of a smile curved his lips. The human body was a limited, fragile thing; prosthetics were not. Only his left leg was metal, though. It had used to throw him off-balance.

          “They’re heavier, you know,” he pointed out, slowing down to a walk. “—You okay?”

[vikingserket]

After the war, what does a soldier become?

The Aftermath - Iron Maiden (via vikingserket)

[xavierkelada-blog]

nightcityswolverine:

  Xio paused for a brief moment as if mulling over his words but her response was relatively instantons, a reflex as if she was reading from a manual rather than speaking freely. “Two hours and a half exactly,” although by the time she’d said it wasn’t exact any longer, seconds shaved off the little timer in her vision and those seconds eventually turned into a minute. 

  “It never hurts to be prompt,” there might’ve been a twitch of her lips but it was hard to say in the dim lighting of the street. She was all too familiar with the type’s people that usually dwelled this side of town, it was one of the very reasons she’d chosen to pass through.

  Her head tilted to the side just a fraction as if taking in his understated appearance, there wasn’t anything that hugely screamed he might be on the verge of psychosis. But she saw the glint of something inhuman and the slight glow to his eyes. It takes one to know one, and he certainly wasn’t overly alarming. Never hurt to keep an eye out and with the recent mistake on behalf of her unit she was keen to prevent any furthers slip ups. “Name?”

          Two hours and a half. Remaining silent, Xavier offered a light nod of acknowledgement. Promptness or not, he wasn’t overly fond of being bound by restrictions. Army was cold rules and clipped orders and unquestioning obedience; his life as a cybersoldier for Militech, too, had been all about the hierarchy. Knowing his place. Regulations to follow. Missions to be carried out. That had been his life—until it became too much. At his deepest, well-hidden core, Xavier Tariq Kelada was still that gold-hearted boy who believed. 

          The fight with his employer had been inevitable; he’d quit before they could get to firing him. At least, as a freelancer, he had the choice. The choice to accept or decline a mission. The option to make his own decisions. 

          So now with the Max-Tac agent gauging him like a hawk, asking—demanding—his name, Xavier couldn’t help the slight narrow of his eyes, bright green enhanced by his cyberoptics. There was nothing to be anxious about, he was registered due to his Militech days—but his lips thinned before he replied.

          “—Kelada. Xavier,” he added with the barest hint of wryness.

[journeytomusics]

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[whovian-on-ice]

[xavierkelada-blog]

lysandercho:

“I’m afraid not.” Lysander looked up from his coffee. He was waiting for a corporate sell-out - no judgement, it was just a fact - of a rockerboy, who was looking for some good publicity. “I take it you aren’t Summer, then?” It was half-meant as a joke, but he said it with barely an ounce of humour, so it came off wrong. This rockerboy had better get there soon. 

          “Summer,” echoed Xavier with a ghost of a smile on his lips, faint and fleeting. It was a sweet, warm-sounding name—and tasted too alien on his tongue as he uttered it. “No, I am not.” So neither of their company, Summer and Mx. Hertz, hadn’t arrived yet. A coincidence. But what with these curfews being enforced, these coincidences were beginning to become increasingly common. This wasn’t the first time it had happened to him, for one.

          “It’s probably the curfew,” he added belatedly.

[xavierkelada-blog]

nightcityswolverine:

  There wasn’t a shift in her expression Xio simply remained as resilient and unchanging as a brick wall, although her foundations weren’t very steady but today she was remarkably calm. “No, I fear not,” Xio didn’t work in a manner that was particularly covert, she wore her badge with pride. Reels of information flooded her vision, but none of which interested her for the time being. “Might I suggest you move along before a less forgiving patrol comes on by?”

          Xavier’s gaze, naturally, flickered to the badge and the uniform first, even before the Max-Tac agent spoke up. Acknowledging authority—it was a trained motion, even though his brain knew there was no hierarchy between them.

          “—Ah.” The curfew. Of course. (Perhaps that was why his client wasn’t showing up.) Normally, Xav wouldn’t have cared—as long as he didn’t get caught, everything was okay, right?—but with a cop in front of him, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

          “But there is still a couple of hours left, isn’t there?”

[getthesoundoffyourhead]

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Bastille - Of The Night

[xavierkelada-blog]

          “—You wouldn’t happen to be a Mx. Hertz, would you?” he asked in a dry tone, sharp gaze closely gauging the other’s reaction. Had his potential client fucking bailed on him, or were they just running late to their scheduled meeting? Or was this a set-up? After all, enemies were easy to make in a city like this—especially so with an occupation such as his.

[wordsnquotes]

Your soul is as disheveled as your apartment, and until you can clean it up a little you don’t want to invite anyone inside.

Jay McInerney, Bright Lights, Big City (via wordsnquotes)

[starkscopilot]