Owen grunted a half laugh at her admission his eyes tracked her hand to where it worried briefly at the scar that almost pulled at her lip.
“Darcy and I …” he trailed off rolling his eyes towards the dusky sky above. The darkened sky overhead still retained some of that evening redness like blood wiped behind the stars that were beginning to twinkle. “...we’ve been friends for a long time. Since before - ya’ know -” he waved his hand in a circular motion indicating just everything, their situation, the world, all of it. “We’ve known each other most of our lives.”
After that Owen kept his hands tucked deep into his pockets while they walked. Her question had sort of reminded him of his closeness to Darcy, his reliance on his old friend. They teased and fought and prodded at one another but there was a familial love between them. They took care of one another. And Owen here had been acting as if he wasn’t attached to anyone.
Owen found himself shuffling into what was a more than decent dwelling, at least in comparison to what he was used to. “You do well for yourself.” He remarked with half jest considering they had probably both known much better once upon a time. Owen’s boots scraped on the dusty floor as he stopped before a worn stuffed horse. He bent and picked it up giving the toy a once over. It’s mane was scraggly and the coat a once light brown was now grey with filth.
What he liked best about the toy was the leg that looked like it had been torn off. A makeshift patch job closed up the wound so no stuffing could fall out.
Just like him.
It was strange holding something so soft. He thought of the child that loved the toy and felt a sudden need to return it to her. “Cute.” Owen placed the toy atop the safe posting it up like a little gargoyle to watch over them. Its missing leg caused it to tip over, but he arranged it nonetheless so that it was half laying on its face but still watching the room.
Julianna dove into bed while he moved to use the basin she’d offered him. He wouldn’t turn down any opportunity to wash a little bit. Owen pulled off the glove from his natural hand and laid it beside the basin. He angled himself to block the view of his other while he repeated the gesture. He used only one hand to cup water in the basin - using a metal hand to transfer water to his face wasn’t as effective as skin, the water was always sliding away before he could get it to his face. Fingers paused just below the water while he watched Julianna’s reflection wiggle out of her pants in the grimy mirror. He felt himself mesmerized for a moment by her figure. Softness and beauty still existed? He then scrubbed his face with a sliver of soap.
With his back still turned to her he slipped out of his leather jacket and clawed at the back of his shirt to drag it over his head revealing that arm and the scars that tore down his side. The once gleaming titanium alloy was scratched up and dinged up in many places and no longer shone with newness. It was clearly still quite functional which he seemed to test in unthinking habit by flexing his fingers and bending his elbow and rolling his shoulder. Remaining silent he approached the bed and kicked off his boots, watchful of her to see how she would react. He didn’t know why he was so bashful about it in front of her. He supposed he just hated that fucking arm and all the heartache it had caused him.
He sank to the edge of the bed and sat with his back to her while he itched at the irritated skin around the shoulder cuff. Once the itch was satisfied he sort of rolled backwards and swung his feet onto the mattress. He lay next to her with his hands folded on his stomach. After a moment or two of silence he turned his head to stare at her over. He didn’t know what to say.
“Darcy and I …” he trailed off rolling his eyes towards the dusky sky above. The darkened sky overhead still retained some of that evening redness like blood wiped behind the stars that were beginning to twinkle. “...we’ve been friends for a long time. Since before - ya’ know -” he waved his hand in a circular motion indicating just everything, their situation, the world, all of it. “We’ve known each other most of our lives.”
After that Owen kept his hands tucked deep into his pockets while they walked. Her question had sort of reminded him of his closeness to Darcy, his reliance on his old friend. They teased and fought and prodded at one another but there was a familial love between them. They took care of one another. And Owen here had been acting as if he wasn’t attached to anyone.
Owen found himself shuffling into what was a more than decent dwelling, at least in comparison to what he was used to. “You do well for yourself.” He remarked with half jest considering they had probably both known much better once upon a time. Owen’s boots scraped on the dusty floor as he stopped before a worn stuffed horse. He bent and picked it up giving the toy a once over. It’s mane was scraggly and the coat a once light brown was now grey with filth.
What he liked best about the toy was the leg that looked like it had been torn off. A makeshift patch job closed up the wound so no stuffing could fall out.
Just like him.
It was strange holding something so soft. He thought of the child that loved the toy and felt a sudden need to return it to her. “Cute.” Owen placed the toy atop the safe posting it up like a little gargoyle to watch over them. Its missing leg caused it to tip over, but he arranged it nonetheless so that it was half laying on its face but still watching the room.
Julianna dove into bed while he moved to use the basin she’d offered him. He wouldn’t turn down any opportunity to wash a little bit. Owen pulled off the glove from his natural hand and laid it beside the basin. He angled himself to block the view of his other while he repeated the gesture. He used only one hand to cup water in the basin - using a metal hand to transfer water to his face wasn’t as effective as skin, the water was always sliding away before he could get it to his face. Fingers paused just below the water while he watched Julianna’s reflection wiggle out of her pants in the grimy mirror. He felt himself mesmerized for a moment by her figure. Softness and beauty still existed? He then scrubbed his face with a sliver of soap.
With his back still turned to her he slipped out of his leather jacket and clawed at the back of his shirt to drag it over his head revealing that arm and the scars that tore down his side. The once gleaming titanium alloy was scratched up and dinged up in many places and no longer shone with newness. It was clearly still quite functional which he seemed to test in unthinking habit by flexing his fingers and bending his elbow and rolling his shoulder. Remaining silent he approached the bed and kicked off his boots, watchful of her to see how she would react. He didn’t know why he was so bashful about it in front of her. He supposed he just hated that fucking arm and all the heartache it had caused him.
He sank to the edge of the bed and sat with his back to her while he itched at the irritated skin around the shoulder cuff. Once the itch was satisfied he sort of rolled backwards and swung his feet onto the mattress. He lay next to her with his hands folded on his stomach. After a moment or two of silence he turned his head to stare at her over. He didn’t know what to say.
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“That’s Anita’s favorite,” she explained as he arranged the nearly ruined toy into the best imitation of an upright position. “She would carry it everywhere by the leg. Just dragging it through the dirt and silt until that very leg came right off.” Smiling a little at the memory, Julianna rolled over onto her side to watch Owen. The oil lamps illuminated the room just enough to highlight the movements he made near the basin. She wasn’t subtle in her observance, for a moment their eyes locked in the mirror. “I thought she would be upset when I had to tell her I couldn’t fix it. She only smiled, and said he would be fine. Still good, ma-”
Her story was cut short by a gasp. The singular sound was somehow a mixture of smaller ones. Different tones conveyed in one sharp intake of breath. The simple act of undressing had revealed to her a canvas of scar tissue and a cybernetic prosthetic. She couldn’t see it as clearly as she wanted to in the half-light. The young mechanic was affixed with an impatient sort of curiosity, she’d only seen and handled one such implant in the past. They were fascinating pieces of technology and machinery.
Despite her eager tension she waited for him to come to her. There was a reservation to his movements now, and she wondered if he’d expected her to react poorly to his arm. She fell off of her elbow, dropping her body and head back onto the bed, arm tucked beneath her head for support. She watched his profile. When he looked over at her she held his gaze, but lifted her hand. She reached across the bed and settled her hand on the junction where the prosthesis was attached to his shoulder. Warm and rough skin beneath her pinky and ring fingers, scratched and cold metal between her middle and index.
“May I?” Her voice was quiet, and she smoothed her hand over the implant before he’d actually answered. Her fingers trailed to where his hands were laced at his stomach and she gently lifted the arm away, rolling onto her back as she extended it into her field of vision.
“Titanium alloy,” she observed quietly. Julianna rotated his wrist and flexed his fingers in a short series of tests, not unlike the ones he had moments before. “Reinforced fiber optic nerve leads, full point manipulation, palladium connectors, and polymeric nanofibers," she drew her fingertips over his fingers. "Does it have sensation? It's quite impressive."
When she was done with her inspection, she sat up and pushed the arm behind her head. She rolled onto her side again and moved into the space she had made, cuddling up against Owen and resting her head against his shoulder. It was the best way to express that he didn’t have anything to worry about when it came to the arm and her reception of it. She draped her own arm across his chest, and let her index finger draw circles over his collar bone. “How do you keep up with the maintenance?”
Her story was cut short by a gasp. The singular sound was somehow a mixture of smaller ones. Different tones conveyed in one sharp intake of breath. The simple act of undressing had revealed to her a canvas of scar tissue and a cybernetic prosthetic. She couldn’t see it as clearly as she wanted to in the half-light. The young mechanic was affixed with an impatient sort of curiosity, she’d only seen and handled one such implant in the past. They were fascinating pieces of technology and machinery.
Despite her eager tension she waited for him to come to her. There was a reservation to his movements now, and she wondered if he’d expected her to react poorly to his arm. She fell off of her elbow, dropping her body and head back onto the bed, arm tucked beneath her head for support. She watched his profile. When he looked over at her she held his gaze, but lifted her hand. She reached across the bed and settled her hand on the junction where the prosthesis was attached to his shoulder. Warm and rough skin beneath her pinky and ring fingers, scratched and cold metal between her middle and index.
“May I?” Her voice was quiet, and she smoothed her hand over the implant before he’d actually answered. Her fingers trailed to where his hands were laced at his stomach and she gently lifted the arm away, rolling onto her back as she extended it into her field of vision.
“Titanium alloy,” she observed quietly. Julianna rotated his wrist and flexed his fingers in a short series of tests, not unlike the ones he had moments before. “Reinforced fiber optic nerve leads, full point manipulation, palladium connectors, and polymeric nanofibers," she drew her fingertips over his fingers. "Does it have sensation? It's quite impressive."
When she was done with her inspection, she sat up and pushed the arm behind her head. She rolled onto her side again and moved into the space she had made, cuddling up against Owen and resting her head against his shoulder. It was the best way to express that he didn’t have anything to worry about when it came to the arm and her reception of it. She draped her own arm across his chest, and let her index finger draw circles over his collar bone. “How do you keep up with the maintenance?”
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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Hearing the story of the three-legged horsey toy made Owen want to deliver it to the child even more. Still good mama. Just like him. Broken things could still be good things. He was very curious to meet this precocious child.
The gasp that stopped the story wasn’t any indication of anything positive or negative for Owen. It was just surprise. Most people were surprised to see a vestigate of technology essentially lost to them. She, luckily, seemed more curious than desirous to harvest the arm for re-sale. So far his judge of character was proving accurate.
“Sur-” He tried to authorize the contact but she was already touching him. He continued to stare over at her as she inspected his arm. He didn’t bother confirming what she already knew about it. Apparently she was more a knowledgeable mechanic than he had estimated her at first.
It was odd how she complimented the arm he cursed. Sure it was awesome when he had regular maintenance and it was functioning optimally. But now…
“Thank you.” He replied flatly as she began arranging herself against him. “I paid for it dearly.” He curled his arm around her and let his hand cup her shoulder. She seemed comfortable enough with it.
“It’s supposed to. Well, it does. It did. Sort of.” Owen moved his hand down her arm in a motion like a caress. “I can feel myself touching you. Pressure, a vague sense of warmth? But I can’t feel - ummm - textures?” His natural hand brushed over the same spot on her arm to feel the smoothness of her skin. “It’s always been a bit screwy. The nerve fusion went pretty well considering the... ah, well, damages to the site and nerves. It wasn’t a clean cut -” He quickly abandoned that topic and moved to a different point. “The motor functioning still works great.”
Owen’s hands returned to their previous spots. The titanium one engulfed her shoulder and top of her arm. The natural one laid flat on his belly. He chuckled at the question about maintenance.
“Very carefully.” He sighed. “We were able to get a hold of the engineering specs for a similar model. I’m not an engineer but I muddle through. One-handedly. And a little compressed air goes along way....” He trailed off knowing that what little he was able to do for himself wouldn’t be enough. “When it goes bad I’ll just get drunk have Darcy rip it out.” He shrugged somewhat helplessly as if the arm was doomed to fail one day and he would be stuck with a hunk of metal hanging off his body.
The gasp that stopped the story wasn’t any indication of anything positive or negative for Owen. It was just surprise. Most people were surprised to see a vestigate of technology essentially lost to them. She, luckily, seemed more curious than desirous to harvest the arm for re-sale. So far his judge of character was proving accurate.
“Sur-” He tried to authorize the contact but she was already touching him. He continued to stare over at her as she inspected his arm. He didn’t bother confirming what she already knew about it. Apparently she was more a knowledgeable mechanic than he had estimated her at first.
It was odd how she complimented the arm he cursed. Sure it was awesome when he had regular maintenance and it was functioning optimally. But now…
“Thank you.” He replied flatly as she began arranging herself against him. “I paid for it dearly.” He curled his arm around her and let his hand cup her shoulder. She seemed comfortable enough with it.
“It’s supposed to. Well, it does. It did. Sort of.” Owen moved his hand down her arm in a motion like a caress. “I can feel myself touching you. Pressure, a vague sense of warmth? But I can’t feel - ummm - textures?” His natural hand brushed over the same spot on her arm to feel the smoothness of her skin. “It’s always been a bit screwy. The nerve fusion went pretty well considering the... ah, well, damages to the site and nerves. It wasn’t a clean cut -” He quickly abandoned that topic and moved to a different point. “The motor functioning still works great.”
Owen’s hands returned to their previous spots. The titanium one engulfed her shoulder and top of her arm. The natural one laid flat on his belly. He chuckled at the question about maintenance.
“Very carefully.” He sighed. “We were able to get a hold of the engineering specs for a similar model. I’m not an engineer but I muddle through. One-handedly. And a little compressed air goes along way....” He trailed off knowing that what little he was able to do for himself wouldn’t be enough. “When it goes bad I’ll just get drunk have Darcy rip it out.” He shrugged somewhat helplessly as if the arm was doomed to fail one day and he would be stuck with a hunk of metal hanging off his body.
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The scars and his brief explanation hinted to Julianna that there was quite the story behind that arm. She didn’t pry, maybe someday he’d tell her if he ever wanted too. Someday. What a strange thing for her to be thinking about. In the morning, he would be leaving to go find her daughter for money, and she had no reassurances that any of them would come back. Even if they did, she kept thinking of Owen as if he were someone who was going to stay, when he and Darcy would probably just be off to find the next job and the next reward. She listened to his heartbeat in his chest. The eye covered with the patch was smothered against his neck and her good eye stared blankly at the wall, fingertips still drawing mindless circles on his skin.
Julianna had a fault for getting attached too quickly to broken men who looked sad and cuddled sweetly.
She nuzzled her face against the crook of his shoulder and snuggled tighter against him. She didn’t care if it made her seem needy or desperate, because she wasn’t afraid to admit that she was both. “I can take a quick look at it for you in the morning,” she offered, her voice resonated across his chest and echoed in the ear pressed against him. It sounded hollow and far away. She felt hollow and far away. “I have some experience with biotechnology, and I’m pretty clever. Maybe we can keep that thing from fucking up on you.”
Julianna had a fault for getting attached too quickly to broken men who looked sad and cuddled sweetly.
She nuzzled her face against the crook of his shoulder and snuggled tighter against him. She didn’t care if it made her seem needy or desperate, because she wasn’t afraid to admit that she was both. “I can take a quick look at it for you in the morning,” she offered, her voice resonated across his chest and echoed in the ear pressed against him. It sounded hollow and far away. She felt hollow and far away. “I have some experience with biotechnology, and I’m pretty clever. Maybe we can keep that thing from fucking up on you.”
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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Owen felt his eyes getting heavy being lulled to sleep by the gentle brushing of her fingers along his skin. It had been a long time since he had last been touched like that. Owen didn’t mind or judge the way she snuggled closer to him. He lowered his cheek to the top of her hair and nuzzled against her scalp. His mechanical hand stroked reciprocal large and small circles into her back.
He thought nothing negative of the contact between them. He could certainly acknowledge a human need for touch. It was something he needed as much as food and water. It wasn’t until the world started ending that he even began craving tenderness, not that he would have ever admitted that he did.
Owen lifted his head in surprise and peered down at her. “You would?” The corner of his mouth pulled upwards. Just a bare twitch of a smile, there was something sad about it. “I can’t pay you for the work. But maybe we could call it your down payment on the return of your daughter?” It didn’t occur to him that she was simply offering out of goodness. That there still might be something like free exchange in friendship.
He thought nothing negative of the contact between them. He could certainly acknowledge a human need for touch. It was something he needed as much as food and water. It wasn’t until the world started ending that he even began craving tenderness, not that he would have ever admitted that he did.
Owen lifted his head in surprise and peered down at her. “You would?” The corner of his mouth pulled upwards. Just a bare twitch of a smile, there was something sad about it. “I can’t pay you for the work. But maybe we could call it your down payment on the return of your daughter?” It didn’t occur to him that she was simply offering out of goodness. That there still might be something like free exchange in friendship.
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Julianna gazed back up at him. “Don’t worry about it,” she murmured, the hand on her back was a comforting rhythm. “It’s on the house.” She didn’t explain why she had chosen to look at the arm pro bono. It was possible that she didn’t need to. Charity did not seem unbecoming to Julianna. Her fingers were slowing down in their patterned ministrations, and she’d given up on trying to keep her eye open. Just before she completely succumbed to the the day’s fatigue, she grabbed Owen by the wrist of his natural arm. She rolled over, pulling him along with her, into a more comfortable spooning position. She tucked her body against his, and found that she nestled against him perfectly. The change left the artificial arm beneath her head; she didn’t seem to mind, and with a few minor adjustments, she settled and drifted into sleep.
A cacophony of revving engines woke Julianna in the morning. Just as the sun broke on the horizon, casting just enough light that the mountains that housed the city cast shadows over most of the square.
She’d been having the most perfect dream. Everything was green and alive. In it, she had been wearing something pretty that wasn’t covered in scratchy red dirt. Anita had been with her, playing happily in a sprawling yard of emerald grass. Someone dropped a heavy arm around her shoulders and pulled her against their just in a crushing hug.
But now she was awake. She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the same dirty walls, to a morning chorus of motorcycles. To the same red dirt and red skies, the same choking air.
Without her daughter.
The fear of what could have happened to the child gripped her again. She sat up quickly, pulling away from Owen and scooting towards the edge of the bed. “The scavenging party’s returned,” she explained, without checking to see if he was awake. How could he not be with all the noise. “I should see them. I’ll look at your arm after-” When she’d run her hands over her face to sweep back any loose hairs, she’d noticed that at some point her bandanna had fallen off.
“Can I have my bandana?” Her hands had curled into fists against the sparse sheets that covered the bed. She didn’t turn around. Though he had shared his arm with her, she was hesitant to return the favor when it came to her own losses.
|||
A cacophony of revving engines woke Julianna in the morning. Just as the sun broke on the horizon, casting just enough light that the mountains that housed the city cast shadows over most of the square.
She’d been having the most perfect dream. Everything was green and alive. In it, she had been wearing something pretty that wasn’t covered in scratchy red dirt. Anita had been with her, playing happily in a sprawling yard of emerald grass. Someone dropped a heavy arm around her shoulders and pulled her against their just in a crushing hug.
But now she was awake. She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the same dirty walls, to a morning chorus of motorcycles. To the same red dirt and red skies, the same choking air.
Without her daughter.
The fear of what could have happened to the child gripped her again. She sat up quickly, pulling away from Owen and scooting towards the edge of the bed. “The scavenging party’s returned,” she explained, without checking to see if he was awake. How could he not be with all the noise. “I should see them. I’ll look at your arm after-” When she’d run her hands over her face to sweep back any loose hairs, she’d noticed that at some point her bandanna had fallen off.
“Can I have my bandana?” Her hands had curled into fists against the sparse sheets that covered the bed. She didn’t turn around. Though he had shared his arm with her, she was hesitant to return the favor when it came to her own losses.
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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Owen had a knack for sleeping through noise. He was only in a half-roused state when she sat up. The sudden loss of her body against his was what pulled him that last little bit into consciousness. “Hm?” He hummed the question at her while his mind worked to process the question she asked him. He rolled on to his back and stretched languidly before he realized what she wanted.
Owen rooted around for the lost fabric and found it tangled in the sheets. He sat up behind her pressing his chest against her back. The mechanical arm fell over her shoulder, just like the arm in her dream. To deliver the bandana to her. He stayed at her back not wanting to pry and stare at what she clearly wanted to hide from him.
He understood.
“I’ll go figure out where Darcy is this morning and get those specs. We can meet in your shop, hm?” He had dipped his head to rest his mouth against her shoulder and his lips brushed her skin while he spoke. He didn’t kiss her there, though he wanted to.
Owen pulled away and scooted off the bed. He splashed water from the basin on to his face and used some to comb his unruly hair into order over his forehead. He pulled the same dirty clothes back on his body and walked over to that horse that had guarded them loyally all night.
“May I take this?” He asked turning to her with the toy in his hands. “She might like it for the ride back.” He seemed so confident in his ability to return her daughter. When Owen put his mind to something, he entertained few possibilities of failure. He had a reward to gather, sure, but he wanted to do this. For her.
He wanted to bring back the child that liked broken toys to the mother that liked broken men.
Owen rooted around for the lost fabric and found it tangled in the sheets. He sat up behind her pressing his chest against her back. The mechanical arm fell over her shoulder, just like the arm in her dream. To deliver the bandana to her. He stayed at her back not wanting to pry and stare at what she clearly wanted to hide from him.
He understood.
“I’ll go figure out where Darcy is this morning and get those specs. We can meet in your shop, hm?” He had dipped his head to rest his mouth against her shoulder and his lips brushed her skin while he spoke. He didn’t kiss her there, though he wanted to.
Owen pulled away and scooted off the bed. He splashed water from the basin on to his face and used some to comb his unruly hair into order over his forehead. He pulled the same dirty clothes back on his body and walked over to that horse that had guarded them loyally all night.
“May I take this?” He asked turning to her with the toy in his hands. “She might like it for the ride back.” He seemed so confident in his ability to return her daughter. When Owen put his mind to something, he entertained few possibilities of failure. He had a reward to gather, sure, but he wanted to do this. For her.
He wanted to bring back the child that liked broken toys to the mother that liked broken men.
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The warmth of his chest against her back, and the weight of his arm across her shoulder, was just as comforting as his presence had been through the night. Her breath feel outwardly, silently. Her good eye closed, the ruined one was no longer capable of the movement, but the world went dark nonetheless. For a moment, she was back in that dream. Without looking, she took the bandanna from him, mumbling thanks as she secured it back across her face.
She opened her eye again when his mouth dropped to her shoulder. He was on the wrong side, she couldn’t see what he was doing, but she could feel it. That simple touch was enough to pull at curl at the corner of her mouth. All at once, Julianna knew she was in too deep.
“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed, eyes tracking him as he moved around the room. Her movements were much the same. Wiggling back into worn jeans and scuffed boots. A splash of water to chase of the last vestiges of sleep. She was rearranging her ponytail again when she turned to see what he was asking. “Of course.” His confidence filled her with confidence in turn. She didn’t say it, but she truly believed this man would bring her daughter back to her. “All these years and it’s still her favorite.”
Julianna followed Owen out of the apartment, but parted ways with him near the public square, where a crowd had drawn around the returning scavenging party. She pushed her way through the crowd to greet them.
Darcy was busy loading the truck when Owen finally showed up. He’d gone through the effort of deciding what they would need for the journey, and amassing those supplies from the various storehouses scattered throughout the city.
“Making friends?” He asked loudly, pulling himself up to sit on the bed of the truck. He scratched his beard and cocked a brow at his partner. “Sleep well, princess?” The older man had obviously heard of Owen’s having spent the night with the pretty gang leader.
She opened her eye again when his mouth dropped to her shoulder. He was on the wrong side, she couldn’t see what he was doing, but she could feel it. That simple touch was enough to pull at curl at the corner of her mouth. All at once, Julianna knew she was in too deep.
“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed, eyes tracking him as he moved around the room. Her movements were much the same. Wiggling back into worn jeans and scuffed boots. A splash of water to chase of the last vestiges of sleep. She was rearranging her ponytail again when she turned to see what he was asking. “Of course.” His confidence filled her with confidence in turn. She didn’t say it, but she truly believed this man would bring her daughter back to her. “All these years and it’s still her favorite.”
Julianna followed Owen out of the apartment, but parted ways with him near the public square, where a crowd had drawn around the returning scavenging party. She pushed her way through the crowd to greet them.
Darcy was busy loading the truck when Owen finally showed up. He’d gone through the effort of deciding what they would need for the journey, and amassing those supplies from the various storehouses scattered throughout the city.
“Making friends?” He asked loudly, pulling himself up to sit on the bed of the truck. He scratched his beard and cocked a brow at his partner. “Sleep well, princess?” The older man had obviously heard of Owen’s having spent the night with the pretty gang leader.
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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Owen walked through the encampment and was rather full of himself to be seen alone with her. He hadn’t realized that rumors of them spending the night together would have reached Darcy until he was greeted by the other man.
He threw the stuffed horse at Darcy when he got close enough, “For the kid.”
Darcy’s commentary only exacerbated Owen’s already characteristic swagger. Though he could have explained ‘it wasn’t like that’ he didn’t feel the need. Let Darcy think he had seen some action. Why not.
“Very well.” He bragged before he sprung into the back of the truck. The truck sunk under the addition of his weight and Owen moved towards the back of the bed to a tool box where he had stored the engineering specs for his arm.
He slapped the booklet against his leg as he moved back towards Darcy to take a seat. Owen fanned out the pages showing Darcy what he had retrieved. “Julianna is a mechanic. She’s going to take a looksie at my arm for me.”
He then smacked Darcy on the arm with the booklet, “Watch out or I might replace you with someone prettier.” Owen was clearly in high spirits and didn’t even need drink for it. He dropped of the back of the pick-up and sort of danced away from Darcy feeling mighty pleased with himself.
“Anyways, I would love to chat but I got a date with a hot mechanic babe and she’s gonna fix me up.” He winked salaciously at Darcy before disappearing around the corner towards Julianna’s shop. While he waited for Julianna, Owen occupied himself with tinkering with things he should not have tinkered with.
He threw the stuffed horse at Darcy when he got close enough, “For the kid.”
Darcy’s commentary only exacerbated Owen’s already characteristic swagger. Though he could have explained ‘it wasn’t like that’ he didn’t feel the need. Let Darcy think he had seen some action. Why not.
“Very well.” He bragged before he sprung into the back of the truck. The truck sunk under the addition of his weight and Owen moved towards the back of the bed to a tool box where he had stored the engineering specs for his arm.
He slapped the booklet against his leg as he moved back towards Darcy to take a seat. Owen fanned out the pages showing Darcy what he had retrieved. “Julianna is a mechanic. She’s going to take a looksie at my arm for me.”
He then smacked Darcy on the arm with the booklet, “Watch out or I might replace you with someone prettier.” Owen was clearly in high spirits and didn’t even need drink for it. He dropped of the back of the pick-up and sort of danced away from Darcy feeling mighty pleased with himself.
“Anyways, I would love to chat but I got a date with a hot mechanic babe and she’s gonna fix me up.” He winked salaciously at Darcy before disappearing around the corner towards Julianna’s shop. While he waited for Julianna, Owen occupied himself with tinkering with things he should not have tinkered with.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
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With a look of surprise, Darcy snatched the stuffed animal out of the air after it was lobbed in his direction. He stood in the bed of the truck and turned the toy this way and that, surveying the mangled and dirty thing. Noting the missing leg, his gaze lifted upwards to watch Owen from the tops of his eyes. “Yeah,” Darcy mused slowly, jumping off the end of the truck. “For the kid.” There wasn’t much more he needed to say to tease the other man. He moved around and ducked into the open window to set the horse up on the dashboard. Listening to Owen mouth off all the while.
“Oh, she is, is she?” Darcy sounded skeptical as he leaned against the truck. He was surprised to see his partner in a good mood and not also inebriated. A pleasant change that he didn’t comment on. His response to being smacked with the pamphlet and threatened to be replaced was to roll his eyes. “Please. Please, do me the fucking favor.”
He waved Owen off with a groan, turning back to the work at hand, that Owen somehow always managed to wiggle out of. “You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t rip that arm off your body,” he yelled after him.
Julianna walked in on Owen fiddling with one of her old two-way radios. “Don’t touch that,” she whined. She crossed the room, and nudged him away from the machinery with her hips. “I’ve almost got it working again.” She turned the device this way and that to make sure that nothing was out of place with it. "I think."
Finding her work satisfactory, she turned and started gathering things off one of the tables into her arms. “Hop on up there,” she directed when it was cleared. She dumped an armload of things on another workbench. “And let me see these plans.”
“Oh, she is, is she?” Darcy sounded skeptical as he leaned against the truck. He was surprised to see his partner in a good mood and not also inebriated. A pleasant change that he didn’t comment on. His response to being smacked with the pamphlet and threatened to be replaced was to roll his eyes. “Please. Please, do me the fucking favor.”
He waved Owen off with a groan, turning back to the work at hand, that Owen somehow always managed to wiggle out of. “You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t rip that arm off your body,” he yelled after him.
Julianna walked in on Owen fiddling with one of her old two-way radios. “Don’t touch that,” she whined. She crossed the room, and nudged him away from the machinery with her hips. “I’ve almost got it working again.” She turned the device this way and that to make sure that nothing was out of place with it. "I think."
Finding her work satisfactory, she turned and started gathering things off one of the tables into her arms. “Hop on up there,” she directed when it was cleared. She dumped an armload of things on another workbench. “And let me see these plans.”
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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Owen didn’t give much when she bumped her hip into him instructing him to move away from the goods. Really, he continued to occupy the space but allowed her to snatch the radio he had been fiddling with from him.
“I used to fiddle with radios when I was a kid.” Owen informed her as he watched her inspect the device. “I think you need a new interconnector thing-a-ma-bobby.” He pinched his index and thumb together repeatedly to signify a small component. “I’ll bring you one of those along with your brat.”
“But!” He bumped his hip against hers to get her to move out of his way so he could saunter to the middle of the room. “The interconnector thingy will cost extraaaa.” He sang this out as if the part he thought she needed was so valuable and not common enough to retrieve or simply remake.
Julianna cleaned off what he assumed would be an examination table. When she told him to sit up on it, he reached for his belt buckle and unlatched it with loud an obvious clinks. He stopped feigning a look of confusion when she mentioned the ‘plans.’
“Oh that’s right.” He buckled his pants back and lifted his hand to wiggle gloved cybernetic fingers at her. “We’re here about the arm, huh? Silly me.” He scooted onto the table and laid back dramatically almost posing for her. The ‘good hand’ propped up his head. “If there’s anything else you wanna check out.” He gestured with the electronic hand towards his crotch. “Feel free, doctor.”
Owen rolled partly to the side revealing to her where he’d rolled up the manual and stuck it in his back pocket. Apparently she could retrieve it her damn self.
“I used to fiddle with radios when I was a kid.” Owen informed her as he watched her inspect the device. “I think you need a new interconnector thing-a-ma-bobby.” He pinched his index and thumb together repeatedly to signify a small component. “I’ll bring you one of those along with your brat.”
“But!” He bumped his hip against hers to get her to move out of his way so he could saunter to the middle of the room. “The interconnector thingy will cost extraaaa.” He sang this out as if the part he thought she needed was so valuable and not common enough to retrieve or simply remake.
Julianna cleaned off what he assumed would be an examination table. When she told him to sit up on it, he reached for his belt buckle and unlatched it with loud an obvious clinks. He stopped feigning a look of confusion when she mentioned the ‘plans.’
“Oh that’s right.” He buckled his pants back and lifted his hand to wiggle gloved cybernetic fingers at her. “We’re here about the arm, huh? Silly me.” He scooted onto the table and laid back dramatically almost posing for her. The ‘good hand’ propped up his head. “If there’s anything else you wanna check out.” He gestured with the electronic hand towards his crotch. “Feel free, doctor.”
Owen rolled partly to the side revealing to her where he’d rolled up the manual and stuck it in his back pocket. Apparently she could retrieve it her damn self.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
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Julianna scoffed and frowned at him, mostly because he had referred to her daughter as a brat, but also because he was talking about charging her extra for the part. “I can get one myself,” she countered, stepping out of the way when he bumped against her.
She turned from where she had been piling random machinery on another table when she’d heard the unmistakable sounds of a belt being unhooked. Her face was a blank expression, but there was a redness to her cheeks. She knew he was only teasing her, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it after their little sleepover.
“Yes,” she pushed the exasperated words from between clenched teeth. “The arm.” She crossed the room when he finally complied to her directions. Or at least partially complied. He continued to tease her all the while and she continued to try and look bored, even though she was blushing and very pointedly keeping her eyes on his face.
“Are you quite finished,” she complained, snatching the folded plans from his pocket. She hooked her foot into the rung of a nearby stool and pulled it closer so she could sit as she inspected the manual. “Let me see it,” she ordered, twisting at the waist to examine a row of tools she had already chosen for the task of hand. Small and precise instruments that still had a bit of that like new sheen on them. She flipped a few more pages into the booklet while she waited for him to comply.
She turned from where she had been piling random machinery on another table when she’d heard the unmistakable sounds of a belt being unhooked. Her face was a blank expression, but there was a redness to her cheeks. She knew he was only teasing her, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it after their little sleepover.
“Yes,” she pushed the exasperated words from between clenched teeth. “The arm.” She crossed the room when he finally complied to her directions. Or at least partially complied. He continued to tease her all the while and she continued to try and look bored, even though she was blushing and very pointedly keeping her eyes on his face.
“Are you quite finished,” she complained, snatching the folded plans from his pocket. She hooked her foot into the rung of a nearby stool and pulled it closer so she could sit as she inspected the manual. “Let me see it,” she ordered, twisting at the waist to examine a row of tools she had already chosen for the task of hand. Small and precise instruments that still had a bit of that like new sheen on them. She flipped a few more pages into the booklet while she waited for him to comply.
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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Owen smirked victoriously at her and rolled onto his back again. He liked the subtle flush to her cheeks - the natural rouge suited her. It was quite endearing that she could get so bothered by sexual suggestion when they were here at the end of the world, or at least civilization. Who had time for shame anymore?
Clearly an adorable gang leader.
Owen complied with her instructions and shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off the leather glove that hid his cybernetics from public scrutiny. He made a makeshift pillow out of his jacket and seemed content to lay on the workshop table like a patient. His arm lay for her inspection and tinkering at his side.
“So your little girl’s name is… Anita?” He asked more to remind himself of the facts. “Is there anything else I should know about her?”
He lifted his head somewhat apprehensively before she got to work. He asked quickly, “Is this going to hurt?” He tried to play off his concern as a joke but in reality whenever he tampered with the arm he always managed to aggravate some nerve leads. The thought of feeling sharp electric pains through his arm bothered him.
Clearly an adorable gang leader.
Owen complied with her instructions and shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off the leather glove that hid his cybernetics from public scrutiny. He made a makeshift pillow out of his jacket and seemed content to lay on the workshop table like a patient. His arm lay for her inspection and tinkering at his side.
“So your little girl’s name is… Anita?” He asked more to remind himself of the facts. “Is there anything else I should know about her?”
He lifted his head somewhat apprehensively before she got to work. He asked quickly, “Is this going to hurt?” He tried to play off his concern as a joke but in reality whenever he tampered with the arm he always managed to aggravate some nerve leads. The thought of feeling sharp electric pains through his arm bothered him.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
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“No,” she replied quickly when he asked if it would hurt. After a pause, she looked up from the manual and made a face. “Well, it shouldn’t,” she corrected. “If I’m doing it right.” She stuck her tongue out at him, because she didn’t have any doubt in her abilities despite her teasing. She re-positioned the arm into something that would be easier to work with. Using a small screwdriver she started removing the larger panels on his underarm that hide the finer components underneath.
“Her name is Anita,” Julianna confirmed as she removed pieces of the arm and laid them in a specific order to make reassembly easier. “She’s…” the mechanic paused, to search for the right words to describe her offspring and to focus on a delicate task. “A bit of a handful,” she finally finished, glancing up at him as she started tracing and distinguishing different wires and nodes. “You’ll probably lose feeling in your arm when I disconnect this,” she warned as she turned to gather a different set of tools.
Julianna consulted the manual once more, it wasn’t really the same at all, but it would work as a decent guideline. The rest of her knowledge could fill in the blanks. “She’s only ever known Sierra Madre. She’s only ever known this...life.” Julianna seemed hesitant to refer to what they were doing as living. “It’s made her very rough around the edges. She’s much too cynical for a child.” She sighed, by this time she had most of the arm disassembled. Even though it was all metal and wires, there was something macabre about the scene.
“They put a limiter in here,” Julianna explained, pushing at a piece of technology with her finger, even though he wouldn’t be able to feel it with most of the leads disconnected. “It’s why your tactile sensation is so weak. And this auxiliary node is almost completely corroded. It’s one of your pain nullifiers. You’d be pretty fucked if this went out. Other than that it’s just dirty. I can fix all of this.”
“Her name is Anita,” Julianna confirmed as she removed pieces of the arm and laid them in a specific order to make reassembly easier. “She’s…” the mechanic paused, to search for the right words to describe her offspring and to focus on a delicate task. “A bit of a handful,” she finally finished, glancing up at him as she started tracing and distinguishing different wires and nodes. “You’ll probably lose feeling in your arm when I disconnect this,” she warned as she turned to gather a different set of tools.
Julianna consulted the manual once more, it wasn’t really the same at all, but it would work as a decent guideline. The rest of her knowledge could fill in the blanks. “She’s only ever known Sierra Madre. She’s only ever known this...life.” Julianna seemed hesitant to refer to what they were doing as living. “It’s made her very rough around the edges. She’s much too cynical for a child.” She sighed, by this time she had most of the arm disassembled. Even though it was all metal and wires, there was something macabre about the scene.
“They put a limiter in here,” Julianna explained, pushing at a piece of technology with her finger, even though he wouldn’t be able to feel it with most of the leads disconnected. “It’s why your tactile sensation is so weak. And this auxiliary node is almost completely corroded. It’s one of your pain nullifiers. You’d be pretty fucked if this went out. Other than that it’s just dirty. I can fix all of this.”
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
The following 1 user Likes megs's post: saronym
Though he played tough guy, Owen didn’t take her teasing perhaps as well as she would have liked. He tried not to let on that he was a bit nervous which might have explained some of his earlier giddiness. He laid his head back and closed his eyes trying to stay calm. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. He had hurt himself too many times messing with the wretched arm to really take a joke well.
It helped to hear some things about her daughter to distract him. “That’s not a bad thing.” He countered but was mild about it. He wasn’t trying to be argumentative but more encouraging. “She sounds like a survivor. Maybe someday that will take some of the burden off of you.”
He opened his eyes to peek down at the arm that was disassembled on the table. It was odd that his stomach turned at the sight, but he’d come to think of that foreign machinery as part of him. It felt like he was really looking at the gory insides of his own arm. And, in a way, he was.
Though he felt somewhat sickened by it, he kept looking at the components she was trying to discuss with him. “I don’t mind the tactile limitations.” He waved his other hand because he wasn’t sure of the proper lingo. “It’s good for smashing into things. You know? Its nice to be able to punch a dude in the face and not feel much of anything. Sure does take the other fucker by surprise...which is generally an advantage for me.” He rambled on nervously only half able to suppress a flinch when as she touched that ruined node. He didn’t feel anything but the reaction was because he expected pain.
“Sometimes I have these...nerve pains? Do you think that’s why? How do you know this stuff anyways? Were you some kind of engineer...you know... before?”
It helped to hear some things about her daughter to distract him. “That’s not a bad thing.” He countered but was mild about it. He wasn’t trying to be argumentative but more encouraging. “She sounds like a survivor. Maybe someday that will take some of the burden off of you.”
He opened his eyes to peek down at the arm that was disassembled on the table. It was odd that his stomach turned at the sight, but he’d come to think of that foreign machinery as part of him. It felt like he was really looking at the gory insides of his own arm. And, in a way, he was.
Though he felt somewhat sickened by it, he kept looking at the components she was trying to discuss with him. “I don’t mind the tactile limitations.” He waved his other hand because he wasn’t sure of the proper lingo. “It’s good for smashing into things. You know? Its nice to be able to punch a dude in the face and not feel much of anything. Sure does take the other fucker by surprise...which is generally an advantage for me.” He rambled on nervously only half able to suppress a flinch when as she touched that ruined node. He didn’t feel anything but the reaction was because he expected pain.
“Sometimes I have these...nerve pains? Do you think that’s why? How do you know this stuff anyways? Were you some kind of engineer...you know... before?”
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
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