Bejeweled (The Rewrite)

1 - Sweetpea

Very excited to start the rewrite, so uhh enjoy babes <3

* When a Claptrap is referred to as CL4P-TP, they're just saying claptrap not the entire thing alright
Examples:
CL4P-TP -Claptrap
FR4G-TP -Fragtrap
B4R-B0T -Bar bot
(I'm sure you get the idea)

Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't expect from a Borderlands fic but to give you an idea: swearing, mentions of violence drug use blood and murder. Yk the normal stuff in that universe (these are put here for all my borderlands fics just in case I mention them, they may not be in the final fic but they are here as a precaution) if any of these are particularly triggering, please leave. Anything that isn't mentioned here will be mentioned at the top of its own chapter.
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You have been warned so don't complain to me when you see one of those things. (that sounds kinda rude but I don't mean it in a rude way, more of a 'I'd rather people don't whine to me about things I already told them about')

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"You need healz, you come to Nina!" Nina's strong accent can be heard from behind me as I wave over my shoulder. A scream of pain suddenly sounds from back there, letting me know she's back to her normal routine. Normal Concordia messages play throughout the city. Some dumb bullshit about how the Meriff is protecting us all. He's not really doing shit to be honest, and if he is it's clearly not working because it appears like he isn't doing anything. Meriff is a dumb name too. The dull coloring of most Concordian buildings allow one building to shine above all others. Moxxi's 'Up & Over Bar'. The neon lights give it a certain pull that entices any mindless fool that needs a getaway from their own shit life. The highlight of this 'fine' city.

My combat boots click below me as I take firm steps up the staircase into the bar. Not watching my steps, I walk into a B4R-B0T by accident. "Sorry 'bout that." I try to seem sincere as I smile at the little bot but in return I get a rude gesture, as rude as it can be from a CL4P-TP unit, and some even ruder remarks.
"Alright, dickhead. I try being nice to one of those things and that's what I get..." My eyes pull up towards the dancefloor and almost immediately I start to squint. The lights flicker and flash quickly in a variety of colours and sequences, makes me a little nauseous. Okay moving is not an option right now. I lean my shoulder on a nearby wall because I really need to collect myself after that. I swear they were never that bad before. Those Dj's are getting a little too confident with their tech.
Once my vision returns without the darkness closing in, I look to the bar only to find Moxxi to be absent. Most likely 'round back. My minor distraction seems to have caught the attention of some idiot that thinks they're gonna get away with trying to embarrass me. They stick out their foot which I don't see and stumble over, I don't fall but damn I am pissed. Normally I'd brush this off as just not being able to see while being in the darker area, this was on purpose. I could hear the bastards chuckling to themselves.

My head shifts to the left as I see a cocky trio of scavs, they're about to become a duo and that's if they're lucky. The one in the middle is sat on his chair as though it's a throne and the other two just lean over the nearest table with their drinks. The one in the middle was obviously the one who tried that little stunt on me. He left his foot their. Maybe they're expecting me to throw some kind of tantrum and maybe, that's just what he'll get.

As any normal and logically thinking person would, I raise my left leg as high as I can in the air while releasing the blade in the heel of my boot and I slam my heel into his foot. Right on the ankle, making sure to jam it right in there. Blood sprays up onto my boots and a little onto an exposed bit of my ankle, my blade going further as a sickening crunch can be heard from the force of slamming a heavy boot into someone's ankle. His buddies look on in horror and let out screeches of fright. The injured scav's head flings up in panic and he lunges at me while letting out a scream of absolute horror and pain. I'm quicker though. My hand flings towards my cheap Torgue pistol that was in its holster. With quick precision I place the barrel just under his chin and fire. Most of the frequent customers don't bat an eye, it's just their PsychoHeart at work again. His head is gone within the blink of an eye and his friends clearly far less ballsy now, ran away screaming in high pitched voices.