Drawings of Skekfaev

Living in a society it's difficult to pinpoint what's wrong with it if it's all you've been exposed too. It's the reason why we can point at the State and bristle at it's inefficiency, its god-complex and it's casual disregard of human life. Without ever realizing that we, as a society, are lowly, uncomplicated scavengers hiding our aggression and uncertainty behind a pretence of industrialism. We live from day to day expecting little. If we're lucky we'll see the next if not we have the knowledge our bodies won't rot within the earth or have our ashes crust into a little heap in some fancy vase. We become parts; elements in a clinic, workshop or factory… Transplants, fertilizer, research subject… animal feed.

I was supposed to be a cog in a machine. An insignificant part, easily replaced and useless on its own. Maybe the Taskmasters would have recognized a small glimmer of intelligence and brightness in my eyes and actions but doubtfully enough to ensure my education took priority over my work. I wasn't alone in that fate, so many others fit into the same boring routine. Getting up, getting 3 hours of basic education, working for 9 hours, enjoying another hour of education that's devoted to the job you're fulfilling and then we get to go home.

We are scavengers in every aspect of life. We take what we get and don't waste a single element; time, parts, bodies, technology, interaction, love,… But what we have we protect fiercely and without remorse. It's that mistake that many outsiders make. Seeing us as just scavengers, as just tools to further their own goals. They don't always expect the series of sharp tools hidden amongst the blunt instruments and when they do… It's a gruesome thing to witness.

You can mess with the Dreglanders, in all honesty we don't mind. We're easily amused and don't have enough pride for ourselves or our country to get easily, if at all, offended. 'What's the difference between a Dreggie woman and garbage? Garbage gets picked up.', 'Why do Dreggies hate television? Because they spend 13 hours a day making them.' Golden oldies as vomited up by smarmy-faced penny-spewing gargoyles. We don't care. They can giggle, laugh and chortle all they want at their vain attempts at humour at our expense. When we do care they're not laughing. When Buster cares they're scared. When Buster cares… I'm scared.

It is weird to be directly confronted by the 'wrongs' of our society. Especially by a man who you have been taught to idolize, to admire, to have a carefully nurtured and fed desire to become if you get older. It is weird to see the men and women that you know protect you, care for you and smile at you commit a senseless crime. It is weird to be cradled by vengeful hands. It is weird to feel a loving, well-meaning hand on your cheek whilst realizing it's leaving a crimson smear. It is difficult to focus on the promise of a sugary treat when all you smell is the coppery scent of blood and pungent odour of fear. It's then really that my life began, that slight slither of hope of becoming something more than chow for the metal became reality. We were so little, so oblivious of what the world outside our minds looked like. Perhaps we were better off back then.

I remember it perfectly. We were seven… The two guards — beaten, bruised… J-Just…fucked up — cowering in a corner clutching at strips of flesh dangling from their torsos and limbs. Buster standing in front of his desk, his frame was heaving threateningly and one arm spread to stop Big Bucks from further interference. One of Bucks' wives mouthing at him to do something.

Buster’s voice, once so soft and caring now ice cold and commanding. "Don't ever let it cross your mind again to ask compensation for this, Groome!"

"You're the one offering child labour, mister! You know how much it’ll cost for repairs? For the new silk?! Train your kids not to be stupid!" She crossed the line then.

The realization hit her only when she'd finished saying it. Buster couldn't even hold Bucks back. Buster didn't even try…

A flash and the gigantic man had closed the distance between himself and Madam Groome. She flinched, arms crossing her face but nothing happened. It was the kids he was after. One of her sons. He picked one and dragged him back to the middle of the room by the leg like a beast. As hard as the boy shrieked somehow it was drowned out by the heavy breathing of Bucks. It was the only thing I could focus on. "Waddaya say, lady? Eye for an eye? Kid for a kid?" Bucks's face was a maniacal grin, something contorted and twisted far beyond human range. This was vengeance and spite moulded into flesh. Metal arm held tight around the boy's lower leg, slowly clutching tighter and tighter while the other held onto the upper leg. I looked to Ursula for comfort but the woman only had a grin on her face, one nearly matching Bucks's.

"You can't let him do that! I'll-… I'll-…" Facing savagery itself the woman tried.

"Do what exactly? It's not because you think we're worthless beasts here to work for you that we are… You work under my rules, Madam Groome. Rules you broke by not ensuring the safety of our kids and demanding compensation for it. You don't mess with the kids, woman." Buster was speaking, always in control. "You don't threaten the lion in it's den." Knowing eyes shot to the mangled security now rendered useless. Always commanding. I hiccuped in fear, Ursula responded with compassion, laying a hand on both our faces. Forcing us to look away. 

Bucks was a guillotine at that point. Unthinking, deadly with one motion and Buster held the cord. He would have done it… - either of them - if it wasn't for Aster.

"Stop him, Buster! There are other ways!" A moment of courage for an otherwise spineless weasel.

Buster lowered his hand. His hooded eyes turning to the disturbing factor.

"My kid, Buster— and Blitz! They'd-" Bucks's grip loosened. Nobody paid attention to the son crawling back to his mother.

"They'll still be disfigured, Bucks. Whether you maim one of Groome's kids or all of them. But Hardygrove can help your daughter and Blitz." Buster cut him off. "Groome's children have potential to add to our economy. Balthazar's on his way to become a bionic engineer… Things we need, Bucks. Things that are unfortunately bigger than this."

"No! Fuck you and your twisted little mind! What'll you have her become! She can't become a goon, she'd be useless in the factories and I'll skin you with my teeth before I allow you to give her to those lechers!" Ursula stepped forward, cradling Chastity in her arms and pulling me along, the side of my face gently covered by her hand."You shut your mouth unless you know you can deliver, Buster…"

"Hardygrove will get Chastity a bionic and get the funds to fix Blitz's eye.  And he'll take them in as students, make sure they get what they need."

"Buster…-"

Buster's hand shot up in the air, his eyes didn't even turn to Hardygrove and already he was silenced. "The alternative won't make anyone happy,  Aster. If money's an issue you can get it from Groome. I'm sure her son's life is worth more than that of two 'Dreggie kids'."

There was a tense silence in the room as the boss's eyes slid over every party. "Is this agreeable to everyone?"

He took the silence as a yes. "Very well. Groomes get those meat bags out of my office before I feed 'em to the pigs. Hardygrove get busy arranging for the kids. Big Bucks — back to your station. And you…" I felt my blood freeze in my veins when he turned to us. "You kids… You deserve a treat for having been so brave." Metal, skeletal hands moved towards us, ruffling through my hair and Chastity's -  clotting it into a mess with bloody residue still left on his bionics.  They moved towards our ears, the bloody trail felt slick on my skin. The metal groaned as he flicked his wrist and pulled his hands away, in each a coin which he dropped in our hands.

He turned away from us. A slight flicker of orange appeared as he lit his cigar. It did nothing to cover up the stench of blood. His hand fell to his side, signaling the door.