The town has a shitty wall made of corrugated steel to protect them, propped up with rotting two-by-fours and cinderblocks and chunks of concrete. Looks like the wasteland puked up the walls after a week-long mezcal bender.
Siri, Dredge, and Watch stay back in camp, Siri fussing over her medical equipment, Dredge complaining about her feet, Watch settling atop the rock just outside camp to play sentry, the way she always does.
Lucinda tries to leave Photo behind.
She really does.
But the kid sticks to her--Cockleburr, she considers, not Photo--and so the kid comes along. The kid will learn. The kid will learn quickly.
She gives Photo a Stealth Boy, tells her to keep out of the way. Don’t hit anyone, don’t run toward anyone, keep herself behind something solid and likely to stop a bullet if she can. Photo looks at her with those big brown eyes, looks surprised that there are going to be bullets. Vulpes must have sent this one because she’s clueless.
She gives Runner and Burn Stealth Boys too, shows them what buttons to hit, suggests silent weaponry. The two of them nod, flick their Stealth Boys on, and disappear into the night.
“Twist, Drummer, stay with me. Tooth, you hold the saloon. We’ll gather people there. No mercy--someone fights, shoot them or machete them.”
“Sure, Boss,” Drummer agrees, slow and quiet. Looks at the others. Tooth nods, and Twist taps the flat of her machete with her fingernail. Lucinda nods.
“Helmets down, keep your faces hidden. If they’ll know anyone, it’ll be me.”
Tooth tugs her scarf up over her face, lets Lucinda adjust it until the printing sits right. Drummer tugs her scarf over her face, settles her goggles over her eyes. Twist drops the faceplate of her helmet.
“Let’s go,” Lucinda murmurs, voice low and deep in her chest.
Drummer and Twist split, flank the entrance to the town, keep themselves low and silent. Lucinda flicks on her Stealth Boy before she crests the hill, fades into the night. Tooth loses all of them quickly, ranges ahead and towards the right of the door, keeps herself flat on the ground until Lucinda deals with the guard.
Tooth sees the waver in the air before the guard does, sees Lucinda bring her machete around, wrap her arms over the woman’s chest as she deactivates her Stealth Boy. She can’t hear the words, though; still takes it as her cue, scrambles to her feet and slides down the hill. She catches the tail end of what Lucinda says, as she flicks her Stealth Boy off--
“You yell, I kill you and everyone in this town. Are we clear?” Lucinda’s voice is low, rough, every word clear and full of intent.
“Yes,” the guard spits out.
“Glad to hear it,” Lucinda replies, and her tone makes Tooth’s skin crawl. It’s the same tone some of the men from the tribe used, most of the men from the Legion used. Not one she wanted to hear again. “Tooth, this one’s yours.”
“Yes ma’am,” Tooth agrees, takes the guard’s arm as Lucinda strips her of her gun, takes the knife from her belt and tucks it next to the bowie knife strapped to her own thigh.
“Fuck all of you,” the guard bites out. She spits at Lucinda, lands a gob of spit on her chest. “Fuck the Legion, and fuck you for--”
“I know,” Lucinda replies. Her eyes are blank, empty, all pupil in the low light of the single lamp. “Fuck us and our men and our dogs and our goddamned machetes.” Lucinda inclines her chin, wrinkles her nose. “I’d let you go, if it would get me anything worth the trouble.”
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timeasmymeasure
Say They Fear Her (f!courier/siri) (dubcon, referenced noncon) (21a/?)
Date: 2016-03-18 02:22 pm (UTC)The town has a shitty wall made of corrugated steel to protect them, propped up with rotting two-by-fours and cinderblocks and chunks of concrete. Looks like the wasteland puked up the walls after a week-long mezcal bender.
Siri, Dredge, and Watch stay back in camp, Siri fussing over her medical equipment, Dredge complaining about her feet, Watch settling atop the rock just outside camp to play sentry, the way she always does.
Lucinda tries to leave Photo behind.
She really does.
But the kid sticks to her--Cockleburr, she considers, not Photo--and so the kid comes along. The kid will learn. The kid will learn quickly.
She gives Photo a Stealth Boy, tells her to keep out of the way. Don’t hit anyone, don’t run toward anyone, keep herself behind something solid and likely to stop a bullet if she can. Photo looks at her with those big brown eyes, looks surprised that there are going to be bullets. Vulpes must have sent this one because she’s clueless.
She gives Runner and Burn Stealth Boys too, shows them what buttons to hit, suggests silent weaponry. The two of them nod, flick their Stealth Boys on, and disappear into the night.
“Twist, Drummer, stay with me. Tooth, you hold the saloon. We’ll gather people there. No mercy--someone fights, shoot them or machete them.”
“Sure, Boss,” Drummer agrees, slow and quiet. Looks at the others. Tooth nods, and Twist taps the flat of her machete with her fingernail. Lucinda nods.
“Helmets down, keep your faces hidden. If they’ll know anyone, it’ll be me.”
Tooth tugs her scarf up over her face, lets Lucinda adjust it until the printing sits right. Drummer tugs her scarf over her face, settles her goggles over her eyes. Twist drops the faceplate of her helmet.
“Let’s go,” Lucinda murmurs, voice low and deep in her chest.
Drummer and Twist split, flank the entrance to the town, keep themselves low and silent. Lucinda flicks on her Stealth Boy before she crests the hill, fades into the night. Tooth loses all of them quickly, ranges ahead and towards the right of the door, keeps herself flat on the ground until Lucinda deals with the guard.
Tooth sees the waver in the air before the guard does, sees Lucinda bring her machete around, wrap her arms over the woman’s chest as she deactivates her Stealth Boy. She can’t hear the words, though; still takes it as her cue, scrambles to her feet and slides down the hill. She catches the tail end of what Lucinda says, as she flicks her Stealth Boy off--
“You yell, I kill you and everyone in this town. Are we clear?” Lucinda’s voice is low, rough, every word clear and full of intent.
“Yes,” the guard spits out.
“Glad to hear it,” Lucinda replies, and her tone makes Tooth’s skin crawl. It’s the same tone some of the men from the tribe used, most of the men from the Legion used. Not one she wanted to hear again. “Tooth, this one’s yours.”
“Yes ma’am,” Tooth agrees, takes the guard’s arm as Lucinda strips her of her gun, takes the knife from her belt and tucks it next to the bowie knife strapped to her own thigh.
“Fuck all of you,” the guard bites out. She spits at Lucinda, lands a gob of spit on her chest. “Fuck the Legion, and fuck you for--”
“I know,” Lucinda replies. Her eyes are blank, empty, all pupil in the low light of the single lamp. “Fuck us and our men and our dogs and our goddamned machetes.” Lucinda inclines her chin, wrinkles her nose. “I’d let you go, if it would get me anything worth the trouble.”