Return to Sender: Quartz and Gold 0.5

5. The Picnic

As the twins approach the clearing, Proxy's steps slow down. Sitting among tall grasses and nestled by trees, a beautiful gazeebo is waiting for them. The wood of it, once carved, burned, and stained, has begun to decay. Rain, snow, and winds ripping at the structure for an unknown amount of years. As year year has gone on, the weather worsened. Became more extreme, more dangerous. The only thing that could possibly have kept this poor relic safe must have been the trees. These trees are old enough and tall enough to protect somrthing so small, she muses, and walks onto the cracked and decaying base.

There's carvings along every piece of wood. Some are simple, initials of couples or close families. Others are elegant and intricate, scrollwork up and down every support beam, on every rail. The ceiling is decaying, and yet there's paint on what remains. Someone must've loved this place, to come here even as it decays and create art on something destroyed. Dying. Gooseflesh rise across Proxy's skin, tears pricking at her eyes and tension in her throat. If she could've preserved her old family home, she would've done the same. If only she knew how to paint.

She would've learned.

"Rox," Her twin calls out, "are you okay?"

Proxy flinches, tense before releasing her shoulders and nods. She didn't expect something so small could affect her so much. Evoking emotions and memories she'd almost forgotten about, bringing her a sense of home.

"You're crying, Roxy."

"I'm okay." She wipes away the tear that had gone unnoticed and turns to her brother. It's like he belongs here, blending in with the scenery as if this was an old painting. His outfits were usually crafted to be unnoticed in their society, to fly under the radar by paparazzi and fans alike. Today is no different in that, but it's as if that is exactly what this place is meant for. Deep in the forest, hidden from prying eyes and society itself. Forgotten, a relic.

It's what he likes, of course. Why else would he collect all those old cars? Relics of the past is his thing. He's never quite moved forward in his longing for how things were, before moving to the city.

"It's just," Proxy struggles to find a word. "This place took me by surprise. That's all."

"I understand," He says, and motions for her to lay down the blanket. They sit down on it, letting out sighs, and Coder starts talking as he pulls out items. Lemonade in glass bottles, fruits, sandwiches. The simplicity in it is beautiful. Not everything has to be opulent to be good.

"So, the company and the deal. We program a lot of things, always have. Eventually, it branched out to making devices. Phones, Holo's, camera drones, the like." He takes a bite from a sandwich and washes it down before continuing.

"Of course, where there's drones, the government wants in. Especially when it can watch someone. Our drones were small remote-controlled ones, originally intended to just be used for photography, or maybe journalism. Government wanted spy planes. Surveillance tech. Ways for phones and Holo's to record people using them to make sure nobody was doing anything illegal. That's what they said."

Proxy can see where this is going, but allows her twin to continue, listening intently, sipping her lemonade idly as he talks.

"I didn't agree to all of that. Especially not the wire tapping, it goes completely against my morals. Drones, though, I allowed, not thinking much of it. We were just doing the programming, making motherboards. With all government contracts though, they always want more, like a shitty abusive ex. They came back, wanting us to actually make the drones and unmanned planes. Casually, it was put on the table of who the other company being offered was. I didn't want to, but I sat down and started working on a deal with them. Making my side of the pot as sweet as possible."