Smoke & Mirrors

incunabula

Right is right, and wrong is wrong, and when people start getting it confused, that means they need to sit down with some real people.
-Chuck D

     "Someone better explain to me what the hell happened, or you're all in BIG trouble."

The three unsuspecting boys looked between each other, each looking just as confused as the other.
"Uhhhh, what did happen, Jaak?"

The older boy inquiring sighed hoarsely.
"Why is the bunker trashed? And where the hell is Dom?"

The middle child of the lineup chuckled nervously, his stout ponytail flicking with his head movements.
"Well...Domenique wanted to go out into town. But Al here-being the innocent little idiot he is-"

"Hey!!" The youngest pouted in disagreement. "I'm not an idiot!"
"Let Gunnar finish, Al." Jaak snapped, quieting the abnormally tall child instantly.
Gunnar cleared his throat. "Anyways, Alaric attempted to make Dom stay, and because Dom is Dom, he told Al to, and I quote, 'shut his robotic ass up and don't tell Jaak'. Well, Alaric tried to barricade Dom in, therein resulting in the trashed bunker. And....Dom escaped into the night."

He's damn right I did.
After being satisfied with my snooping, I sprinted silently down the stone corridor to my escape hatch, turning the wheel and shoving the steel open.

Atlanta at night is definitely one of my favorite sights. All the bright lights of the various businesses and vendors, the awful traffic, the strip clubs, God it's almost as good as home.
I sprinted between alleyways like I always did, keeping myself as silent as possible. I jumped my usual 10 feet vertical and landed on the shaky fire escape of an old apartment complex that held one of the only good things in this life, aside from alcohol and strip clubs.
I climbed up 7 floors, up to my favorite window in Atlanta. I tapped on the window-tappity tap tap tappity-and a familiar purple-headed Latina came sprinting to the door-er, the window. She grinned when she saw me.

"Dommie!" She squealed, practically throwing herself onto me. I chuckled, hugging her back tightly.
"Lucia!" I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face. "¿Que pasa? How're your paintings going?"
"They're going." She hummed, more focused on snuggling herself against me. "It's been too long. I was worried you got your scaly ass caught."
"Hey now." I glared playfully at her. "I'm not that much of un mala pata, am I?"

Lucia giggled at my native Spaniard phrases. "You're so loco sometimes, niño."
"Loco por tú, diosa."

The mood immediately shifted. Lucia slowly pulled away from me.
"Bello...we still need to talk about that."
I quickly took her arm. "Lucy, I already told you how I feel about this. And you know you feel the same."
"I know I do, Azúcar." I blushed a little at her sly compliment.
"You're the only person I know who would dare call me sweet." I murmured, pushing her violet waves from her chocolate eyes. She pulled away from me again, standing up in the large window.
     "Let's talk about this over an ash tray, Dom. Maybe then I'll have a little more sense in me."

     After inviting me in and closing the window tight, Lucia guided me through her dimly lit room to two small rugs with an ash tray in the middle.
     "I bought fresh cigarettes today off my father." She told me, tossing me one of said packets. "Keep one. You know mainstream tobacco isn't my style."