◈ @spec08: ❛ There is a scurry before he makes the high hop onto the table, his feet stretching upwards to give him the maximum height that he is allowed. There are a series of squeaks to get her attention before he holds up what appears to be a precious gem. The light catches it in such a way that it sparkles obnoxiously and the creature seems very pleased with himself that he found it for her. After a moment the mechanical voice explains, 'He has found this while digging in your dirt gardens. He wants to know if you have been looking for it?' // For Dez ❜
Garish metal music shrieked into Odessa’s ruined ears as she tinkered, the table before her strewn with mechanical parts, with tools both scavenged and makeshift. It took a moment for Hammond’s triumphant, high-pitched squeaks to bleed past the cushions of her headset, to pierce the whine of her tinnitus and pull her attention. Realising she had company, the Junker Queen freed her ears, just in time to hear the mechanical voice speak. Hammond’s intellect and creativity were unparalleled, his mastery of mechanics and engineering far surpassing her own. He was a formidable force on the battlefield and beyond – and he was her friend, the closest thing she had to family. His company was always welcome.
“Aw, Champ, I’d wondered where that got to!”
Gold always held its value. Her father had told her that, long ago. Currency weathered storms unseen, its worth in a constant state of flux. But gold? It was a finite resource, like the drab people of this ramshackle settlement, like the Omnics that assaulted it. Next to gold, gemstones. Traditional wealth might hold little weight in a post-apocalyptic society built on bartering and trade, yet Odessa still lined the coffers, a shining reservoir that someday might find use.
Proffered in Hammond’s pink grasp was a missing piece, a sapphire that had traded the cloister of the earth’s heart-roots for a royal pocket. Delighted, Odessa took it from him. It was a perfect size for turning over absentmindedly in hand, its smooth surface one of lustrous shine. Like blue fire, like the violent, artificial hue of her hair. There was a coast, far beyond the polluted horizon, where she imagined there were lagoons and deep waters of this same brilliant shade.
“Finder keepers, ain’t that part of my decree?”
As though hoping to add to its already dazzling shine, she rubbed it on her dirty shirt. Given that her clothes were dull with dirt, grease, sweat, the gemstone likely suffered from the polishing. Grinning crookedly, her scars and war paint twisting, she held it back out to Hammond.
“It’s all yours, mate.”
