The hot desert sun beat down relentlessly on the her back, the torrents of sweat that ensued evaporating instatly on contact with the air. But still the young killjoy trudged on and on through the wasteland of California, looking for some sort of shelter. The landscape was flat and barren for miles around, with not so much as a patch of foliage in sight. Any greenery that had once forced its way out of the earth and into the burning sunlight had been blasted away by the bombs, and hadn't dared show it's face on the scorched desert skin ever since. The sand rose up in dust clouds with every footfall the travellors made.
The rebel turned to her companion, hoping for an end to the heavy monotony that had stretched since her escae from BL/ind headquarters.
"So..." she began, floundering for an excuse to start a conversation. "How's life?"
There was a pause. Then there was a sigh. There was a longer pause.
The figure looked at her mournfully, his metal skin gleaming white hot in the heat, and continued to plod heavily along beside her.
"Life." came the inevitable reply. "Don't talk to me about life."
You all guessed who her companion is?? Tell me if you want me to continue this story...and i will.
YOU ARE READING
DON'T PANIC: BL/ind are here to help
FanfictionFor lovers of both MCR's 'killljoy-verse' and the Hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy. A lone killjoy escapes BL/ind's HQ with none other than Marvin the Paranoid Android, a BL/ind experiment gone wrong...
