"No Life 'Til Leather"

So What Pt.2

"So what?"

Breaking through the guzzling motor, Andy asked W for the upteenth time today.

"So WHAT? So that you're... Fuck's sake, Andy!" She scolded and huffed. "You're sick! I'm sick! Even Hedley and Ines are sick, everyone's sick! I mean, sure, I don't really give one about either you or the rest, but come on...? You caught Oripathy, isn't that enough of a reason to stay here now?"

Andy scoffed. "You keep saying that. Just Oripathy, Oripathy, Oripathy, like a broken record – So what? So what that I've Oripathy now? You've had that shit since... well, since forever, and look at you! And It hasn't even been a full week since we got here and you're already acting like some spoiled city-mouse weirdo. All this time you've been managing in the wilderness and merc-towns just fine...–"

Her eyes widened considerably. "Are you serious? I've been managing because I'VE HAD NOWHERE ELSE TO GO, you dumbfuck. You think I was doing all that running, all that gunning and slaving away 'cause I wanted to? 'Cause, what, 'cause sleeping in a dirt shithole or some bunker is supposedly personally considered way better than an actual bed and a roof above my head? 'Cause...–"

"That's not what I meant." He sighed. "And that's not why I wanna leave either! You know it's not about the accommodation or, or–..."

"Oh yeah? What, you're not longing for a nice 'ol dirt-fuck-pile to sleep on?"

"It's not–..."

"Not about the fire ants crawling up your ass while you snooze?" She prodded further, her face a void. "About freezing to death up North, sweating a river down South? Getting your throat slit in your sleep by a dear-trusted-haphazardly-hired sellsword buddy?"

"It's not about that!" He exploded, pushing her hand away. "It's about this! About that! "

His finger shot towards the driver's cabin, where an eerily dull silence ruled. Unbeknownst to them both, Mr Newmaker was enjoying a scratched record wailing out blast after blast of distorted guitar wailing – all muffled by the wall separating him from the cargo hold. "Justice is lost, Justice is raped, Justice is gone!" He sang, drumming his lively fingers over the steering wheel while narrowly avoiding an exploded crater.

"..." W narrowed her gaze. "... Him? Seriously?"

"Yes!" Andy threw his arms towards the closed window-slit, waving wildly. "I mean, can't you see how fucking insane that guy is? We've been here... not even a WEEK, and every single day he's put us through some life-or-death gauntlet disguised as a mission. I mean, fuck, it's like he's actively trying to just kill us at this point."

"THAT'S the extent of your worries?" She blinked, finding it difficult to follow his line of thought. As invincible as she was, W has never – not once in her entire run – thought about the repercussions of the loss of life, ESPECIALLY her own. That's what the land required her to do, simply put – worrywarts were left scurrying for the safe picks at bounty boards while the real Merc Sharks bravely sieved through hundreds of suicide contracts for a few shekels more, and a heap – a HEAP – of respect. Die in battle, live forever in tales told throughout any and all merc-pubs everywhere!

"That's the extent of my–... Whaddya mean "That's the extent of my worries???" Andy shot her an incredulous look. "Of course that's the extent of my worries ! The guy's fucking insane! We are BARELY MAKING IT DAY BY DAY, it's not like working out there, picking and choosing the contracts we know we can fulfill! It's NARROWLY AVOIDING DEATH BY NEWMAKER'S HAND EVERY SINGLE DAY."

"So you're just... but–... but that's..." She stammered, struggling to mull the information through. "... You're just scared?"

Andy blinked. His eyes met hers, and he's never seen her so genuine and serious, staring at him in complete disbelief.