“Oh It sure is. What gave it away- the fact that I look exactly the fudging same? I saw Pauling earlier and she didn’t even do a double take. Neither did Admin.I’m full of crybaby rage, too short to use Mailcall for rounds, my feet don’t reach the pedals on my Vespa, and ready to pop off on Meramus like a shaken ginger ale.”
True to her word, smallsenger’s eyes are teary and full of anger at the world.
It was the subspace capsules, really. Those little miracles of engineering had been Messenger’s main mode of transporting mail, intelligence, and requisitions for years, but she had never tried to squeeze a shipping crate into one before. Not, of course, that she had come across the golden opportunity of an unnatended, hot off the line, shipping crate full of spanking new models before.
As if she would let her scientific curiosity go unsated.
So here she was, proudly presenting the results of her first field test to Scout. If Messenger were honest, his genuine excitement and appreciation of her deliveries was probably the biggest driving factor behind the experiment in the first place. And okay, maybe she had noticed that the particular weapons would be useful to offense… and Scout in particular.
Buuuuuut
That awareness had done jack shit to prepare her for his response. Oh geez. Oh boy howdy son of a fish was she instantly a solid shade of beet. He had soft lips how fucking dare he have soft lips, and she could feel the heat radiating of her face and oh god he probably could too and what? What what what? Was she talking? Her brain appeared to have blown a fuse somewhere.
“Eh, ah, uh, you’re welcome!” A little too loud, a little too much of a voice crack, “Just, uh, I mean it’s handy! The guns. Thought you could… y’know- more gun? Just the, guns being neat guns.”
The Administrator squinted at René from the screen. She took a long drag on her cigarette, letting the smoke cascade from her lips.
“If that’s the case, then I suggest you both get moving. And Messenger?”
“Yes Ma’am?”
“If you get side-tracked this time, you’re fired.”
The Messenger grimaced at that and hid her hands in her pockets to keep them steady. Aw fantastic: her first partnered assignment and it was to the one city she’d been hoping to avoid for at least another year.
“Understood.”
The screen zipped to black, and Messenger got to work buttoning her shirt back up.
“I uh, I apologize for letting nerves get me there. I know it’s not the best way to build faith I won’t get us killed,” she stood and made solid, confident eye contact for the first time, “I was just caught off guard. I can promise you, I’ve run jobs like this solo before. I won’t be a liability.”
She considered offering a handshake but decided against it. Which left her hand kind of floating at her hip. Her head was starting to ache from the smoke smell. Messenger swallowed a cough.
“You, uh, you have good decorating taste… the vehicle is probably on the Dustbowl outskirts. When you’re ready we can… y’know.”
“It is a little bit of a funny thing, aint it.” He chuckled. “Don’t see that too often in nature. I s’pose just like how you don’t see vehicles inside of another vehicle too often.”
“You don’t have to act like I’m gonna jump out and eat ya.” He chuckled. “I’m not some tightly wound old codger that’s gonna bite ya for no good reason.” He went around and opened the driver side door, climbing into the seat and putting the key in the ignition. Waving her on inside as he closed the driver side door.
“Nah, not a lot. I think it’s Lamoras or gamoras or something that’s the little fish that ride sharks for protection.”
“And uh, I will try not to. Do that. I uh, just, habit. Caution. I’ve been lightly stabbed for sitting in a guy’s preferred seat so,” she shrugs
At his wave she pulled open the door and climbed up into the seat, only to realize she opened the door too far and could no longer reach it.
“Every time,” She grumbled and held on to the door frame as she stood on the edge of the cab’s floor, hanging ten, to reach out to the door handle. She pulled and threw herself back into her seat, nearly catching her feet as the door slammed. She winced.
“Sorry.”
“They’re called Remoras.” He said, buckling himself in. “The little fish that eat the crude sharks leave behind.”
“Well, I know some of the guys round here might be jumpy like that, but that sort of thing just ain’t professional.”
He can’t help but chuckle a little at the whole scene as she struggled with the door. “I could’ve reached over and got it for ya, y’know.”
“Oh I was close, that’s actually surprising. And, uh, that’s good to know sir. I’ll try to be less overtly on edge, but it’s also kinda built into my personality at this point.”
She looked at him and nodded with a sort of goofy “myep” face.
“That’s a true fact right there. It legitimately did not even cross my mind.”
She got settled and watched the road.
“Well, it is good to have a good sense of caution. But no need to be as jumpy as a scared jack rabbit.” He said.
“Heh, well, now it will for next time.” He chuckled.
“A jack rabbit once kicked my ass in hand to hand combat,” she deadpans, “stole all my money and ran off with my wife. I can still hear his laughter on the wind when I ride through the town where it all went wrong,” she turned away from the window to stare ruefully ahead at the horizon, her face solemn and voice low, “Someday… we will meet again. We will meet on the streets of Santa Fe, under the glaring high-noon sun. This time, pistols. If I die…I will die on my feet with my dignity cold and heavy in my hand.”
She had apparently switched to her other mode of dealing with nerves: being absolutely batshit.
“I’m sure you can relate.”
He stared at her from the corner of his eye, a brow raised above his glasses. “You have a little to sugar or something?”
Messenger pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.
“No, no I wish I could use an excuse like that. I think it’s more around like how if you try to go down a hill directly you- editorial you, I don’t know your hill climbing habits- you might stumble and accidentally start running. And then you try to stop, but gravity kicks in and you run faster until you fall or reach the bottom. That’s me and talking after my nerves get ramped up.”
She seemed to have finally relaxed after the strange tangent. Like she’d gotten something out of her system.
“I’ll level with you- the last time I was introduced to an entire merc team at once, it went south and sideways very fast. Wound up held hostage for six days. So it’s not really y’all that had me all,” she gestures to herself as a whole, “It’s that I’m the kind of lucky to get hit by lightning twice in the same spot. I have more faith in you and your team than most- from what I know of y’all through delivering mail.”
She grinned and leaned back into the seat, “I did get smacked in the face by a jackrabbit though. A friend was trying to teach me how to snare and nab one. Tasted great. Seasoned with revenge.”
She was about to question it and mention that people can and have died from drinking that much milk, but she cut off to listen to him. Oh god that…that was a fucking excellent string of words.
“Are you kidding? The motto is practically “everything is lethal if you just believe”- and our supplier will love the idea! Probably… Yeah, yeah they will! Maybe they’ll throw in some perks if I ask…”
She mumbled to herself for a moment, something about Iceland, before looking back up at Scout and clapping her hands together.
“Okay, Scout, if you can do it- and I don’t doubt for a second you can-I’ll put in the order a-sap, and we can both milk the mistake for all it’s worth.”
【 Ｌｅｔ＇ｓ ｗａｓｔｅ ＇ｅｍ！】
❝ Y’know, I’m this close in sayin’ forget it just ‘cause of that dumb pun, but fuck it. If it means you can get me milk as a weapon, I’ll ignore that you lactose any good milk jokes. ❞ He had to hold himself back from smiling at his own joke. He was proud of it, but he couldn’t show any weakness in front of anyone, even less Messenger. ❝ You’re doin’ me a HUGE favour, ma’am. I owe you one. Hey, why don’t you come along next week and watch me put these bottle of milk to good use? I’m sure you’d love seein’ me kick was with shards of glass and cow juice. ❞
“Oh I see how it is,” her eyes gleamed, “I see how udderly repulsed you are by how I teat the art of comoody. I’ll try to keep my love of bad yolks from getting in the whey of our arrangemoont. To eacheese own.”
The second part caught her off guard though, eyebrows raising.
“Oh, no, really, I’m the one who owes you. Seriously it…” she stopped herself and rubbed the back of her neck, “Well it never goes fantastic when I trip up. And uh, I mean, if you still want me to visit after..those puns, I think…I mean I can try to make time. I uh, really would like to see you in action. Especially with surprise milk.”
CW: Kidnapping, drug mention, injury, being tied up in the trunk of a car
Note: Please don’t feel pressured to match length I went a little ham.
Appx Time: 0200
Appx Location: A Half-Paved Road in, Maybe, Arizona.
The worst part was the chafing. Messenger’s skin was about as resilient against regular fiber ropes as paper was to fire. Make that wax paper. Her skin was almost always an eczematic anyway, she really did not need, want, or appreciate the help of the mob thugs with making everything terrible. The only good thing about the relentless itching and stinging was that it was very fucking distracting. It’s hard to fear for one’s life when one is as irritated as an oyster.
How she’d come to wake up in what felt about the size of and bumped along the ruts in the road like a trunk, Messenger was not entirely sure. She assumed, being able to eventually spot the outline of handlebars once her eyes adjusted to the dark, that she’d been ambushed on her evening route. Once her processing skills were somewhat back on line, she could also feel the weight of the Vespa on top of her and it was, admittedly, not the best feeling. And, if the throbby-hurty-burny feeling along her right calf was anything to go by, they hadn’t even waited for the exhaust pipe to cool down to toss it in on top of her. She felt pretty drugged though, so at least her nerves weren’t completely online to have to deal with that. Except the ones in her wrists, apparently. Fuck those nerves.
In desperation, Messenger attempted to rub her wrists, bound behind her back, against the side of the trunk. She failed. Something warm and softer than the interior of a car was in the way. Pressed up right against her, actually, now that she was slowly starting to process physical space again. Rubbery a bit, against her hands. And what was that? Hand shape feel? Gloves maybe? The groggy thought that she should say hello to her new boot buddy managed to make its way through Messenger’s brain to her mouth.
“Hrmglmf.”
Yes perfect. It also explained why her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton-balls that tasted like her scarf. The brilliant answer she finally came to was that the scarf was the cotton-balls all along.
They weren’t exactly sure how long they’d been stuck in the cramped car trunk, but it was certainly long enough for their shoulders and spine to start aching in protest. Pyro had been drifting in and out of conciousness after recieving a nasty blow to the back of their skull – which had been throbbing for at least an hour or two. However, this time something was different when they ebbed back into reality;
Something else in the boot was touching their hand.
Pyro, now curious, gently grabbed whatever had been touching their hand in a bid to identify it. A few moments later they deemed it to be a hand – thankfully not belonging to a dead body, since it was moving an awful lot.
Whoever else was in here, they thought, was probably in just as messy of a situation as themselves.
“Who’s that? You okay?”
As Pyro grabbed her hand, Messenger instinctively wiggled her fingers a bunch before shifting so they were holding hands. Aw yeah. Hand holding. In her foggy state it felt like a major accomplishment of some sort. She gave her companion’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. At least, she tried to. Her motor skills were still iffy.
“Mrmph?”
It took her a long moment of processing to parse what Pyro was saying, and while she did Messenger started working to try and undo her own gag. Her hands couldn’t reach but… yeah there was snaggy bit of the inside of the door. She rubber her cheek against it- scraping it up painfully, but she managed eventually to catch the fabric. After a long few minutes of desperate, apologetic, wriggling and head jerking, Messenger managed to pull the gag down over her bottom lip.
“Sorry bout that,” she whispered as softly as possible, glad to find her vocal chords working despite an intensely dry mouth, “People call me the Messenger, and I would love to say yes, but uh, no. Are you? Did they hurt you?”
“If you’re really serious then yes absolutely. I know a place- actually I know a specific dog. Mastiffish looking mutt with a kinda crooked jaw that makes her tongue hang all doofy and she looks funky but she’s super sweet. But uh, she’s just the first to come to mind. I mmm…”
She got a bit sheepish.
“I can’t own a dog with how mobile I have to be so uh… I miiiigght use a pretty big chunk of my pay on funding several no-kill rescues. Potentially. Smallest one’s just outside Badlands limits near a town called Overlook.”
Dell frowned softly and rubbed the back of his neck “I don’t think I could keep any given my job either” he admitted “but I would still love to help with what you do, keeping the shelters up and running, I’d be more than happy to pith in.”
“You sure? You don’t think we could armor up a dog and train it to fetch wrenches and stuff?” She half teased, “Thanks, in serious speaking, they can always use extra hands. And someone to figure out how to keep Blintz from escaping every possible outdoor enclosure and mutineering the kitchen. In the top two smartest dogs I’ve ever met. He more or less brought down a crime lord by accident-long story- oh great I’m rambling but hey! They’re good dogs.”
She shook her head quickly. “Nah it’s just the biweekly requisition: the signature is you agreeing to drink or throw all of this at people in the next two weeks.” “So our supplier knows it’s not being wasted and we keep a good face.” She bit her lip and rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “And mayyyybe so we can pretend the mis-order was on purpose. If anyone’s gotta pay for it it’ll be me, no worries.”
【 Ｌｅｔ＇ｓ ｗａｓｔｅ ＇ｅｍ！】
❝ Make that one week, sister. ❞ One small error could quickly become Scout’s new weapon – it was just like how Demoman and Sniper defended themselves, although with less booze and piss and with more calcium instead. The shattered glass of the milk bottles hitting the enemies would merely be one more perk. The mistake turned into a victory, and Scout new already how to best work this out. ❝ It wouldn’t look like that much of a mistake if I’d ask you to order that much again next week, right? Mann Co. wouldn’t mind if I weaponized milk, right? ❞
“Uh, one wee-?”
She was about to question it and mention that people can and have died from drinking that much milk, but she cut off to listen to him. Oh god that…that was a fucking excellent string of words.
“Are you kidding? The motto is practically “everything is lethal if you just believe”- and our supplier will love the idea! Probably… Yeah, yeah they will! Maybe they’ll throw in some perks if I ask…”
She mumbled to herself for a moment, something about Iceland, before looking back up at Scout and clapping her hands together.
“Okay, Scout, if you can do it- and I don’t doubt for a second you can-I’ll put in the order a-sap, and we can both milk the mistake for all it’s worth.”
“Well why would someone in their right mind hold something against you when you’re out here? Especially not someone who loves you.” She put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m glad you did too. For your sake.”
She watched him squirm and cocked her head to the side. Obviously things were a bit more complicated back home which didn’t surprise her one bit. That’s how it tended to be in the Badlands.
“No need to worry on that front, bucko, I never deliver to any non-recipient. That includes information regarding sender. Most of my packages are blank return addresses anyway. Gets a little hairy sometimes, but if I can stand up to mobsters I can sure as heck stand up to some nosy neighbor. And I happen to have connections in Boston I can call on.”
She smiled reassuringly, her eyes crinkling up as usual.
“It’s a bit, ehehe, of a… well, it’s, it’s hard to describe all the shit that happened, ehe, and why, ehehe, it might have had an impact… and it’s a bit of a downer, so I won’t go into right now, ehehe…” he said, smiling a little, “I am glad too though.”
It seemed that he wasn’t ready to go into details of what had actually happened. But he still appreciated that all the same. It was a kind gesture.
He then listened to what she had to say about that. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about his mother making things difficult.
“I, uh, ehehe, I doubt M-she’ll be violent or anything like that. She… she just doesn’t like me vey much, this woman I mean, and so if she knew letters were coming from me, she would give Freyde a lot of crap,” he said, fidgeting again, “I’d, ehe, rather Freyde didn’t get that.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. His heart practically skipped a beat at his near-slip.
“I’m glad. As I said, she most likely won’t be violent, But she would get suspicious if she saw a personal delivery person, you know, like, ehehe, hand-delivering,” how eloquently put, Russell.
“I’m just giving her a quick note on how I’m doing, a note about the twins and the stuff they made for me, how I’m still moving forward,” he said, smiling a little bit, “I’m going to put a picture in there too.”
He gestured to the polaroid picture of himself and his cat, a fluffy grey feline that seemed perfectly happy to lay round his shoulders like a strange scarf.
“I think she would like to see that.”
Russell was lucky that Messenger was both slightly dense and used “mm” as a stutter enough times herself that she didn’t pay the slip any mind. She also, despite her gnawing curiosity, wasn’t about to pry into something very obviously anxiety provoking. Too old hat for that, despite wanting to.
“Hey, no worries- nothing you have to explain or expand on to me. If you ever want or need to, that’s a different story. I’m pretty damn good at not sharing personal info. And I’ll keep your nosy neighbor from bothering Freyde, promise. If you tell me her favorite flowers I know a place on the way.”
Messenger rubbed a scar on her chin instinctively.
She raised an eyebrow at the twin comment, racking her brain for mercs that might fit the bill. Blank.
“Twins? Friends of yours? Sorry now I’m the nosy one- oh?”
She smiled as he did, looking down at the photo.
“I think she would too… beautiful shot. Is the cat yours?
“Yeah, I’m happy I don’t have to worry about any of you.I still do but at least it’s mostly just because I’m that kind of mess. Hoo yeah.” She nudged him back, halfheartedly trying to pull him back down from where she lay.
“You would use bribery? Shame on you.”
She thought for a moment.
“It would work perfectly, yes. They are loyal, but not that loyal.”
Dell smiled playfully, and let himself be pulled down beside her, an arm spreading over her shoulders as he did. “Of course I would bribe them, birds are easy to bribe, it’s people you’ve gotta be careful with” he told her “they are far more greedy.” He let out a small chuckle and turned is head to look at her.
“You gotta get yourself dog lawyers” he said “still easily bribed, but will always be loyal to you, no matter how many treats someone else gives them.”
She can’t help but wriggle closer to steal his warmth like the clingy leech she was. The arm over her shoulders is super welcome. She nodded thoughtfully at his assessment of humans.
“Pretty much any bird is better than- no, any bird is better than a majority of humans. Even the…troubled birds. And honestly dog lawyer? Great idea for a DA, I mean, all they gotta do is look sadly at the prosecution and whine a little to get you off the hook, right? Someday I’ll have a pack of dog lawyers. Now you went and planted the idea.”
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