Foxtrot Nekropolis

Chapter 2

hat dumbass: so, how'd it go?

Wynn stared at the incoming message for a good ten minutes before answering. Surrounded on all sides by debris, broken robots and corpses (or what was left of corpses, at least), could they really claim any of it to be a victory?

… nope. Nope. Nuh-uh. They were not going there. The grief and sympathy for the people™ and all that dumb s**t was Sunburst's domain. Wynn was wise enough to know that their job was to end the invasions and save who they could, and they done that and more.

not fuhsaz: the gates are always f*****g shitshows

not fuhsaz: like 200 people died this time. the bots collapsed like three buildings

not fuhsaz: orion died

not fuhsaz: two others too

hat dumbass: ah

not fuhsaz: ah indeed

hat dumbass: ill uh

hat dumbass: you probably would rather b alone for a bit rite

not fuhsaz: yeah

hat dumbass: kk

hat dumbass: maybe go back to ur café or go 2 sleep or smt

hat dumbass: whatever helps

hat dumbass: ill message u later

hat dumbass: sorry for ur loss

not fuhsaz: thanks

Pocketing their sunpad, Wynn looked up at the emerald skies and sighed.

It was almost f*****g midday now, and the disgustingly hot summer day that this was turning out to be did absolutely nothing to get them into a better mood. Whipping their tails against the floor angrily, they took to wandering the streets — jumping over whatever obstacle came up without stopping to look at what it was.

This was…

Mm.

The vitae, Aether, the industry — none of it meant s**t. People still got hurt. People still died. If the world was fair, there would be no cities in Aether at all, as the place was a f*****g flight risk and three quarters of another one. The gates spawned here; the planet was constantly under siege. The fact that there were people living in it made no f*****g sense when there were other planets they could live in.

Or there would be.

If the galaxy wasn't currently having a religious d**k-measuring contest.

And who the f**k was Wynn to say anything? He'd purposefully been late to be bitchy, and now three people were dead. Sure, they'd not been dead by the time they got there, but the point still stood; if they hadn't been late, maybe things would've gone differently.

Or maybe they wouldn't. What did they care? They didn't care. They didn't. They didn't. This was not worth the consideration.

It's all just… f*****g bullshit. Just —

"Hey, Fox. You got a minute?"

God f*****g damn it.

"For you, mademoiselle? Always! What can this fox help you with?"

Sunburst looked about as unimpressed as ever, looming over them with soot and dust sticking to her skin and armor and mixing with the blood that stuck to her. Her eye was already starting to swell, and she'd very clearly busted her lower lip — that would be a bit of a b***h to fix, they knew. The Zweihander in her hands was chipped and cracked all over, too — slamming it into metal for the better part of five hours hadn't done it much good.

And she still managed to look composed.

As for Fuhsaz? Well, who knows.

"Cut that s**t out, fox." She spoke, a sharp tone to her words, eyebrows furrowing and lips curving into a frown that could just as well be a snarl. There was a sheen to her eyes that spoke of anger and grief and Fuhsaz was very drastically reminded that the three who'd died hadn't just been coworkers to her — they'd been friends.

Wynn looked at her for a few moments. Considered their carefully crafted persona of Fuhsaz. Sighed.

"...what do you want, Sunburst?"

And, oh, wow, they did not mean to sound that tired, or bitter. They never really let that part of themselves out around Sunburst; Fuhsaz wasn't the moody freaky teenager Wynn was. Fuhsaz was confident and wild and quirky and witty and sarcastic.

Sunburst frowned. But she didn't seem surprised, just…

It was.

It was hard to put anything into words, right then.

"Listen. I…" she paused. "Don't. Uh."

A moment of silence passed between them. Fuhsaz turned away from the woman, their backs turned to her so that they could state at the ruins beyond them once again.

"People die, fox." Her voice sounded almost gentle. "Even the qualified. I don't think there was anything you could have done to prevent any of this."

"What makes you think I do?" They questioned lightly, raising an eyebrow rhetorically and trying very, very desperately to bury the part of them that was screaming at being called out. "I know what I can and can't do, don't —"

"Cut the s**t. I know that look." Again, she came off quite sharp. "Listen. I don't. We don't always get along, and I'm pretty sure the only reason you were f*****g late to begin with was to piss me off, but I don't care. That was eight minutes. This ain't on you. You took a f*****g bolt for that kid back then. You were doing your best, fox. That's gotta be enough."

"Yeah, well, that's the thing, ain't it?" Their voice was lighter, now. It sounded like a bell, like laughter in the air. "Doin' my best wasn't enough."

Not that they cared. They didn't. They didn't.

The tapping of boots against concrete was almost frightening.

They'd long since settled into their mettle, into their role — Wynn was corrupt. Wynn was more than happy to do things no one should ever feel fine doing; they lied and stole and cavorted with criminals and all sorts of nasty little things that built up slowly. You'd think they'd manage to kill of the part of them that shied away from s**t like this, but nope.

'You took a bolt for that kid' — they tried to. The thing only grazed them; in the end, the kid was still vapourized.

Though, for that sensibility they could forgive themselves. Children being senselessly slain by things beyond them happened to be pretty high on their little trauma bucket list.

Just…

This was all for nothing. On a decent world, that kid wouldn't've been there in the first place. The only reason they were was because Aether's status of being a populated uni-planet nation was half of what fueled their campaign for neutrality faced with the horrors of the gates. Oh, poor us, great nations! We, a poor and populated planet trying their best, are shielding the universe from relentless invasion! Won't you help us?

Bullshit. Utter bullshit.

They heard Sunburst sigh from behind them — then take a spot right beside them, looming over in a way that didn't feel intimidating. She didn't meet their eyes, thankfully; instead, Sunburst let her gaze wander to where their own was at: a collapsed pile of debris with deep red splashes clearly visible.

"I…" She pursed her lips. "I don't really know how to talk to you. You're f*****g insufferable at times. Some people know how to deal with the bravado and the act and the jokes — I just. Don't. It's never really been my forte. So I depended on Plaguedoctor when it came down to it, I guess. To make sure you were okay with stuff."

"And then she went and died," Wynn muttered, trying very hard to detach themselves from the surge of ugly, awful emotions that welled up inside their chest. "So that sucks."

"Yeah." A pause. "You were friends with Orion, right?"

They took a moment to reminisce on Orion. Were they friends? Wynn wouldn't say so. Not really. Buy they would've been, in time; Orion was one of the brave few willing to actually put up with Fuhsaz's quirks and had taken it upon herself to befriend them. She'd been a bit overzealous, though — overwhelming, too. Though Fuhsaz played the part of the extrovert, the truth was that there was only so much Wynn could deal with.

But Orion would've gotten that in time. They knew so; underneath all of her quirks and character defects, she'd really just tried to look out for them some.

"I'm not sure," they eventually decided on. "I didn't… really have the time to process things yet. But I f*****g owed Orion seven bucks."

A dry bark of laughter escaped Sunburst's lips.

"Same," she admitted. "Damn wry bastard got me in one of her bets. I was dumb enough to take her up on it; so convinced that this time I'd get her. Guess that's how she built her fortune."

The last time they'd seen Orion had been at the party last week — Mirrored's birthday. Orion and the birthday boy had been punching it out as usual, grins on their faces and a flush to their cheeks. It was a bit of a catharsis thing, after Mirrored'd forced retirement and whatnot. Everyone had been drunk but Sunburst, who preferred not to drink, Peacekeeper, who saw himself as the mom friend, and Fuhsaz themselves, because they were a few years too early to start drinking… according to Peacekeeper.

Biologically, the man was right. Psychologically, debatable. Chronologically, no way in hell. Not that it really mattered now, considering his remains were probably being scooped up for a decent burial.

"f**k," they muttered, with gusto this time. "That's five down in the last two months."

Sunburst hummed an agreement, but didn't say anything yet. Perhaps, and the thought was a bit odd, she was sharing in the same sensation of restless grief that Fuhsaz found themselves experiencing. Perhaps she was merely giving them some time.

You never knew.

They let the silence wallow in for a few moments.

"I miss her," Wynn confessed. "Plaguedoctor. Amata. I wasn't… and now Orion, too. This is just…"

"Tough gig." Sunburst concluded. "On the dead and on the living."

"Yeah," they replied, their eyebrows furrowed. "On the dead and on the living indeed."