𝐅𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬... ❧ ᴏᴅᴜ / ɴᴄ & ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🌾S1 CH. Seven; The Weak One

❧

Those five words that The Doctor said rang in your ears for the next three hours. And in those hours, you watched helplessly as Trauma was loaded into a cramped cage and shipped off on the train.
       You continued to wait for your turn to come, yet it never did; instead, you stayed behind.
       Benevolent harvested another small tube of infected flesh off your shoulder, all before giving you a clean change of clothing and telling you to get ready to head back to your residence.

"Go pack up! We have two days before we [DEPART]."
       Those words of his stunned you at the time, and even now... As you are literally walking home like you are used to, it's a bit hard to believe it.

Everything you used for your cleaner job was taken away... Except your pocket-watch, luckily they let you keep that.
       You pull it out to scan the time– 2:30 PM.
       If the sky wasn't always so overcast and depressing, you might have felt a bit of joy during the walk. Yet the gloominess of today only adds to your anxiety when thinking about Trauma.
       Considering their reaction, you presume they're no stranger to what happens behind the doors of the infamous asylum.
        Unfortunately, you had no time to ask questions or soothe the specimen, as those two men whisked Trauma away quickly... The husk of what once was a soldier only cried as they dragged them off.
        As for your injured leg, Bene told you that the ligamentum teres in your right femur were just sprained from getting suddenly yanked backwards.
        The Doctor gave you three different pills to take whenever it begins hurting, as well as the crutch and an order to take frequent breaks; no jogging, no sprinting, no sudden movements, no jumping– basically none of the stuff you got used to doing when being a cleaner.
       Pills or not, it still hurts like the dickens. The only good they do is reduce the swelling.
       Once you make it across the huge bridge connecting the two sides of the [CITY], you hobble over to a bench to have a rest.
        Taking in a few tired breaths, you assess your surroundings. Today is hauntingly quiet, the usually bustling streets now empty; the creaking groans of the buildings shifting is the only familiar sound you can hear.
        None of that of chatting civilians, cheering children, chirping birds, or the soft whistle of wind; just metal rubbing together.
       "I wonder what my friends are up to...?"
        "Friends" as in the [OPERATIVES]. Sometimes you wonder if you can even call them that, and now is one of those times.

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You were born and raised in the Days City, and something you learned early in life is to take relationships with a grain of salt.
      "Friends are fleeting, life is based on fugacity," is what the elders would tell you.
       Naturally, friends came and went in your life like anyone else's, but when you became a cleaner on one fateful day that felt way warmer than usual; a new door in your life was discovered and opened. Behind it something that felt unaffected by fugacity.
       The operatives of the Days Union.
       You can still recall the day vividly; at the time you always knew about the operatives, what they were, and what they did... You'd see them here and there at random hours of the day and night, just like everyone else on the streets.
       But the day you were accepted as a cleaner, you headed to a huge building which was known by most as "The DU Headquarters".
       A staff lady brought you your official outfit, various keys for the job, and a belt full of equipment minus one vital thing.
       The gun... And this is where the operatives come in.
       After signing a couple papers that were basically you signing your death wish, the staff women told you to go find Practical_Day, or The Engineer. He'd set you up with the weapon you were so enthused for.
     "Go find him," she told you before disappearing past a staff only door.
      How incredibly helpful! Not.
      You wandered around the first floor for what felt like forever. You were nervous and insecure about heading to the second floor so you didn't, and were seriously about to drop the mission to find him when you suddenly overheard voices; your gaze lifted and up ahead at the drinking fountain stood two operatives.
      The sight of them left you standing in place like a tree; they were in their element, while you were not.
     "SILLY CIVILIAN STANDING GAWKING!"
      One of them pointed out loudly whilst signaling your way; instantly you felt the deep want to run off, or to fade away altogether.
      The other operative's face was completely covered up by a gas-mask like covering. He unfolded his arms upon seeing you, and you could've sworn you heard him scoff at you.
     "Are you looking for something? Or are you walking around unauthorized?"
      His voice had a certain nostalgic feel to it; and while his words didn't come out in a overly threatening manner, you couldn't help but feel like you just made a mistake coming this far to the back of the first floor.
      "ALL GAWK, NO SQUAWK? AHAHA!"
       And that somewhat obnoxious fellow did not help soothe your nerves whatsoever...
      "Unstable, stop. You're making them nervous!"
       You nearly jump out of your skin when another operative walks around the corner; he raises his steampunk hat in greeting as he marches up to you with a hand outstretched.
       "Greetings, [CIVILIAN!] How may we assist you?"
        You have to look up to meet his gaze, those hazel eyes of his twinkling and shining; you cautiously take his hand and right away he jerks it up and down in a firm shake.
        "Awh! We don't bite!"
        "UNLESS WE DO!"
        The one called Unstable suddenly pops up besides the much taller operative, which makes you flinch back.
       The bright blue vested operative laughs again, while the tall one next to him shoots Unstable an unamused glare. The two get into bickering and tussling like siblings, while the third masked one finally approaches you and gestures to you to follow him.
       "You may answer."
        Oh, right! Your mission... You've been so engrossed by the interaction that you'd forgotten why you came looking for them.
        "Um, I was told to come look for the [OPERATIVE], Practical_Day..." You stammer as the two of you trail further down the halls.
       "Well, you've found him."
      He stops walking when he finishes speaking, his hands behind his back as he looks to you.
      Both relief and embarrassment flushes through you, and you force yourself to hold his gaze.
      "O-oh! I've been all over for the last hour searching... The lady didn't tell me where to look or anything," you inform him, rubbing the back of your neck.
      "You must be the new cleaner; what's your name?"
      "I'm [Name]!"
      The operative holds out his hand which you shake politely. "[ENGINEER] of the Days Union, as you must know."
      You give him a nod as you let go of his hand. "I'm in need of a gun," you began, yet before either of you can continue your conversation, the sounds of squabbling of three people can be heard stampeding down the hall towards you.
      Both you and Practical look over to catch the sight of the trio.
      "This sucks, life sucks!"
      "Don't be such a downer, we're gonna have fun together!"
      "FUN YES FUN!"
      You hear a heavy sigh come from Practical as the three finally take notice of you both.
      "Oh! Hi again, friend!" The hazel-eyed one greets joyfully.
      Never before has anyone called you friend after shaking hands once.
      "Hey..." Is all you manage to say to him before you feel a hard push to your shoulder.
      "Who is this ugly punk?"
       Your jaw tightens and your nostrils flare as you think to yourself. "What a jerk! I'll show him-"
       "Listen your blond ass up-!"
       You didn't get to finish your sentence before the tallest operative threw a hand over your mouth.
       "Don't mind Dreadful, he's like this to everyone."
       "NO NO, KEEP GOING YES? I WANT SEE THEM FIGHT!" Unstable bellows, jumping up and down.
       Practical waves the three away from you. "Get to work, you three have better things to do than to nitpick at each other."
       The Engineer then turns to the steampunk hat wearing one, "Radiant, keep these two in line," he tells his fellow operative in a tone just above a whisper.
       Radiant_Day nods to him, before playfully saluting to you. You smile in amusement, while Dreadful rolls his eyes and Unstable huffs as he folds his arms.
       The three of them then march off, the name-calling continuing as they went.
       Practical folds his arms, letting out another wearied sigh. He expected you to be absolutely appalled by what you just saw. Y'know, spending your life thinking the operatives of the Days Union were always up-right and professional soldiers.
       Only for your first real interaction is them acting like a bunch of middle school boys.
       Yet instead of the complaining he was waiting for, only laughter bursts out of your mouth. You laughed so hard your gut hurt, and you had tears in your eyes. You hunch over the floor, holding your gut as you wheeze and sputter.
       The Engineer couldn't really understand what was so hilarious that you were practically (hehe) dying of laughter over.
       But it was exactly what he had thought of in his head. You were expecting up-right and stoic soldiers, but instead you felt like you just got a dad, two brothers, and a rather late childhood friend.
       In the end, you got your gun and a group of friends that have been in your life for the next near two years.

⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°