So What Pt.2

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hi new chapter my computer mouse of 12 years broke today

drawing:


(its anton)

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(its anton)


anyway enjoy



"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."

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