her whisper is the lucifer

“S-st..” He cant get his words out, his chest feels tight and every nerve in his body feels like it’s on fire.

And didn’t know how much was too much, anymore. He’s flung her hands away from him, smart enough to know that if she’s not touching him, he’s safe.

And then she pushes the feelings of one of her first jobs as an Enforcer at him. The first time she walked into gunfire, the blaze of it lost under the neon arches of the synthetic sky. Empty chest compressing concussion when she fires her gun. The overwhelming impact of a solid slug to her thigh- scar’s still there. Blind screaming. She wasn’t the only one down now.

She pauses the regurgitation to look at Peter, watch his eyes and his breathing.

renholder-walker:

Crew. She’s crew. So fresh and green. It might be racist that they call her greenie, but the word is a time honored tradition in these parts.

“I’m just new crew. In with the last batch.” Her antenna move slightly asynchronously as she shakes her head.

She’d seen Peter around. Word had gone around to not fuck with him, but ex-Enforcers aren’t super good at following the rules. 

She grins and rolls the word off her tongue. “Cannon-fodder.”

“Ah, newbie,” Peter smirked. Time for him to assert his ‘authority’ like he did with all new crew. He didn’t really have authority, but he took advantage of the fact that although he was almost a man by human standards, Yondu still thought of him as “the kid” and orders were not to bother the kid (too much.) Which meant he could get away with a lot more than the average crew member.“

"Um..?Are you…insulting me?”

“MM, nah.” She shakes her head. “Not insulting you.”

“I’m canon fodder. You’re above that.” Now she smiles, perhaps with more teeth than absolutely necessary. “I can change that.”

“I’m just new crew. In with the last batch.” Her antenna move slightly asynchronously as she shakes her head.

She’d seen Peter around. Word had gone around to not fuck with him, but ex-Enforcers aren’t super good at following the rules. 

For Ren he had to think long and hard. What to get an explosive expert?

It couldn’t be Charlie, not for real. Could it?

Dust follows her into the town. Not a town, just another eerily familiar place eroded by war and sand. All these places are the same now; dead and crawling with the human kind of vermin. She’s cautious, despite her motorcycle not allowing her to move invisibly. She’s alert, and there’s no motion around her.

She stops in the middle of town, straddling her bike, and pulls of her helmet. Her hair is longer now, her face is scarred and older, but her brawny build and bike are the same.

Renholder’s been assigned duty inside tanks. She’s tall, and hated it. So, not a tank, nothing enclosed. She clambers about on some of the smaller vehicles, and on what was once a Supacat LRV 400. The previous owner had welded teeth in place of the grill, and caged the back in.

With an almost awkward demeanor thanks to his unbridled excitement, he hurried off to fetch the vehichle’s steering wheel. He seemed to skip a little as he ran, or perhaps his rickety old knee may have given out for a moment. But even if just for a moment, there seemed to be a little more (stilted, old man) bounce in his step.

Upon return, he proudly presented the wheel to Renholder.

“Thank you, sir.” She takes the wheel and steps up into the LRV to fit it to the stump of the steering column. “Any place in particular, or just a spin?”

Sometimes the Farmer has plans within plans, and sometimes he doesn’t. He grins his bullet toothed grin, and gestures in the direction of the gates.

He strode alongside her, drifting towards a certain oft-locked warehouse. “But before anything’s formalized, there’s one last thing for you to do.“

He unlocked the door and threw it open. As the light filtered in, a formidable silhouette came into view. A massive relic from days past.

Renholder’s been assigned duty inside tanks. She’s tall, and hated it. So, not a tank, nothing enclosed. She clambers about on some of the smaller vehicles, and on what was once a Supacat LRV 400. The previous owner had welded teeth in place of the grill, and caged the back in.

gender bent and ocs accepted