The City (Merome AU)

5

~*Mitch*~

My arm hurts like crazy, but I was, and still am, too stubborn to admit it. What was with that guy anyways? He was too nice. Sighing quietly, I grip my arm lightly. One thing about it though, he can wrap a wound. I wonder if he's a medic... I shake my head and mentally scold myself. No medic would be dumb enough to anger one of Kaydee's dogs. Speaking of, I need to talk with Kaydee. To see why she tried to...

"Excuse me sir," Why does everyone sound so fancy here? "I've never seen you around these parts before. What is your name?" A blonde woman (in a rather expensive looking outfit) asks, looking at me in curiosity.

"I go by Benja." I say calmly, holding my hands behind my back. Curi told me to act respectful toward anyone in fancy attire. If not, I could be in a world of trouble. (Her words, not mine.)

"I see. You're from the wasteland. Is this your first time in the city?" She could tell from that one sentence?! How thick is my accent?

"Yes it is actually. Have I done anything wrong?"

"Not necessarily." She smiles at me. "Though, I do have to ask you a few questions."

"Go ahead." I bite my lip in frustration. Why does everyone here have ask so many questions? Why can't they be like everyone in the wasteland? There is no need to question others unless they stole something from you.

"Do you know of someone by the name of Kaydee?"

"Crazy Kaydee? How would I not know the woman who tried to kill me?" The woman's eyes widen and she pulls out a small bundle of papers and a wooden stick like thing.

"She attempted to kill you?" I nod at her question. "When was this?"

"A year ago? Maybe longer."

"Do you remember what weapon she was using during her attempt at your life?" The blonde looks at me with curiosity. Such formalities, many fancy.

"A stolen gun."

"How did you know the gun was stolen?" What kind of question is that?

"Whenever someone in the wasteland gets a gun, they mark it with three letters." I pull out my own gun and show her. Each representing their true name.

"I see..." She makes some marks on the paper. "Please put your weapon away now." I do as I'm told and she pulls out a gun herself. "Could you tell me who's gun this is?"

"Um..." She places the weapon in my hand and crosses her arms. Ok Mitch, stay calm. Just look at the letters. Hopefully this doesn't belong to Woofless. If that's the case... I'm as good as dead.

Biting my lip, I look over the gun. My eyes scan over it before they land on familiar letters on the barrel. RLW. "Oh no..." I murmur before holding the gun back toward the woman. My stomach churns as the woman takes the weapon from me. I think I'm going to be sick...

"What's the matter?" She takes the gun in confusion, looking over it.

"I-I..." I clear my throat and clench my fists to keep them from shaking. "The gun belongs to Woofless."

"Wonderful. Do you know where we can find him? We have a few questions for him as well."

"You don't find Woofless. He finds you." Then kills you without a second glance.

"What do you mean?"

"Woofless isn't exactly the kind of person who will kindly answer questions. He prefers, other ways of getting information." Her eyes widen the slightest bit. So she can feel emotions. Maybe she isn't some sort of machine after all.

"I see. Thank you for the information Benja. Also, could I have some insight into what this man looks like for when he comes looking?"

"I haven't seen him in a few years, but I'll give you what I can remember. He's light skinned, with brown hair and a beard. He usually wears an old blue-cloth-jacket-like-thing. I think he calls it a 'hoody.'" She nods.

"You've been a great help, Benja. If you have anymore information regarding Kaydee, please report it to me or any of my comrades at the police station. Alright?" I nod and she walks off, her hands behind her back. Well then. That's more socialization in one day than I usually get within a week. I could really use a nap right now...
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Sorry it's short for what I usually do...

Minor writers block... (.~.)

But anyways,

:)

Much Luv,
Mickey-Kenzie

(2018: Pfft. This is average.)