“I thought the boss was supposed to be here today?” Photo whispers.
“She will be,” Dredge agrees, pats Photo’s back. Their guard watches them, shotgun slung across her lap, eyelids heavy, fingers tapping along to whatever song is playing on the radio now--something about a man and a guitar.
“If you can give us anymore information, we can let you go,” the guard offers again, as Dredge hikes her shirt up and off one arm, holds her baby in place so she can nurse. Dredge leans back against the shack wall, crosses her legs up on the grimy mattress. Photo huddles against her.
“Think I’ll pass, ma’am, if you don't mind.”
“Fine,” the guard agrees. Slightly less droop-eyed than she was, watches Dredge’s hands as she starts tapping to the radio too, studies Photo as Photo fidgets with the hem of her dress. “What time is your boss showing up here?”
“Dunno, wouldn’t share even if I did,” Dredge replies. “Don’t like bein’ locked up in a room and bein’ told my freedom’s dependent on how well I fall into line.”
“You know I can’t let you go,” the guard responds.
“Course not.” Dredge snorts. “But don’t go expectin’ me to tell you jack shit. Boss may be Legion, but at least she lets me out of a goddamn room.”
“Dredge, you’re gonna make it worse,” Photo whispers, casts a nervous glance at the guard, who is now watching them with open eyes and renewed interest.
“Ain’t no such thing as worse, kiddo,” Dredge drawls in response. “If it ain’t scraping for food, it’s Legion, and if it ain’t Legion, it’s shitty people being in charge, and if it ain’t shitty people in charge it’s bein’ locked in a fuckin’ room. It’s all fuckin’ the same, when you get down to it.”
There’s a crunch of footsteps outside, and the guard is out of her chair in a moment, throws the door open, levels her shotgun--
Boom and there’s the sound of a lever-action being cycled, and the guard goes toppling back, her face mangled and the back of her head pulped.
Photo stares in horror at the guard's corpse, makes a soft, high pitched noise as she scoots further away, presses her hands over her mouth. Can’t bring herself to blink as the guard’s blood begins to pool on the ground.
Lucinda steps around the corner.
“Got your shotgun,” Lucinda says, holds Dredge’s shotgun up by the action. “If you’re up for it.”
“Gimme ten minutes, boss, so El here can finish up with breakfast.”
“Right, Lucinda agrees, takes three steps into the shed--steps in the pool of blood with the first, tracks it inside. She holds out Dredge’s shotgun, and Dredge takes it without a word.
Say They Fear Her (f!courier/siri) (dubcon, referenced noncon) (33a/?)
“I thought the boss was supposed to be here today?” Photo whispers.
“She will be,” Dredge agrees, pats Photo’s back. Their guard watches them, shotgun slung across her lap, eyelids heavy, fingers tapping along to whatever song is playing on the radio now--something about a man and a guitar.
“If you can give us anymore information, we can let you go,” the guard offers again, as Dredge hikes her shirt up and off one arm, holds her baby in place so she can nurse. Dredge leans back against the shack wall, crosses her legs up on the grimy mattress. Photo huddles against her.
“Think I’ll pass, ma’am, if you don't mind.”
“Fine,” the guard agrees. Slightly less droop-eyed than she was, watches Dredge’s hands as she starts tapping to the radio too, studies Photo as Photo fidgets with the hem of her dress. “What time is your boss showing up here?”
“Dunno, wouldn’t share even if I did,” Dredge replies. “Don’t like bein’ locked up in a room and bein’ told my freedom’s dependent on how well I fall into line.”
“You know I can’t let you go,” the guard responds.
“Course not.” Dredge snorts. “But don’t go expectin’ me to tell you jack shit. Boss may be Legion, but at least she lets me out of a goddamn room.”
“Dredge, you’re gonna make it worse,” Photo whispers, casts a nervous glance at the guard, who is now watching them with open eyes and renewed interest.
“Ain’t no such thing as worse, kiddo,” Dredge drawls in response. “If it ain’t scraping for food, it’s Legion, and if it ain’t Legion, it’s shitty people being in charge, and if it ain’t shitty people in charge it’s bein’ locked in a fuckin’ room. It’s all fuckin’ the same, when you get down to it.”
There’s a crunch of footsteps outside, and the guard is out of her chair in a moment, throws the door open, levels her shotgun--
Boom and there’s the sound of a lever-action being cycled, and the guard goes toppling back, her face mangled and the back of her head pulped.
Photo stares in horror at the guard's corpse, makes a soft, high pitched noise as she scoots further away, presses her hands over her mouth. Can’t bring herself to blink as the guard’s blood begins to pool on the ground.
Lucinda steps around the corner.
“Got your shotgun,” Lucinda says, holds Dredge’s shotgun up by the action. “If you’re up for it.”
“Gimme ten minutes, boss, so El here can finish up with breakfast.”
“Right, Lucinda agrees, takes three steps into the shed--steps in the pool of blood with the first, tracks it inside. She holds out Dredge’s shotgun, and Dredge takes it without a word.
Lucinda looks to Photo.