Jul. 10th, 2010


[info]mitochondriaaya

The Storm Routine

They said goodbye to Momma as the skies began to dance with wisps of color. The storms gave the older woman a headache, and she really didn't need to deal with Pierce during the damn things. Brea'd been handling the boy since she'd wandered into town with a dying Nevada. They had a valley they rode to; not far from the town but far enough nothing nasty would take place in the town limits. It was a cup of stone carved in the desert ranges with a cave deep enough to make the horses feel safe.

Even better from Brea's perspective it only had one entrance. Any other way in required wings or a healing ability beyond what most predators ended up with. Razor edged stone was nice. Except when Pierce landed on it. To be fair that had only happened once, and he'd healed up fine once the town meds got their hands on him.

Pierce started whistling cheerfully as true chaos clouds broke over the horizon. Annoying as hell but it was how Brea judged how long they had. An hour, tops, from the point he got cheerful enough to whistle. Long enough to get the horses stowed and a campfire going. Long enough to quick-toast a crawler and get it into her charge's stomach. He wasn't hungry of course, but it was better than dealing with the power hangover...

He started laughing when the screaming thunder broke...and stole her hat playfully when the rain began. Rather than waste time chasing him, she just calmly loaded her rifles and chose her perch. Pierce would start playing tag with raindrops or something soon. And he'd completely forget to watch his back when the meaner beasties also came to play in the storm. Forget? Hell, he'd probably try to pet the damn things...

Momma'd had a hell of a time keeping him safe before they learned Brea wasn't effected by storms.

Brea had a hell of a time not shooting him most trips. Fatally anyway. They knew some good healers.

The storm fully broke with the sound she imagined Gods would make, deafening her even though she knew Pierce was laughing. Then the lightning began, curtains of beautiful, twisting light that scored the valley walls in designs only Pierce understood. He'd burned something like those designs into her coat years back, said even she needed something pretty sometimes. Her adopted brother was an ass. She had a hell of a time explaining the pretty pictures on her coat.

Not that she ever considered a new coat. It'd been Nevada's. Plus it was made of the toughest damn hide they'd ever taken off a beast. It helped her shrug off some of the elements. Like...the little bolts frizzing past her head "Watch it!" she growled, knowing he couldn't hear her. He wanted to share. The storms made him forget she didn't play catch with lightning...

Yeah, he was lucky she loved him.

And right on cue, as Pierce was glowing like a lightning bug in the center of the storm, there came the first customer through the pass. She could always tell. Usually hit them too. Hit them often enough to drop them before they reached her perch, much less Pierce.

Reload, don't worry, you've got all the time in the world kid. You've got my back, I trust you...

Time enough at least. Before she knew it the storm was petering out and Pierce was making sand angels on the ground. "Whooo~~~ Breeeeeeea! You gotta...you gotta....oh...heeeeey Brea your eeeears are showing..."

"You stole my hat. Gonna need that back." she noted dryly.

"Awwwww man." Pierce pouted "That'd be...so...so...mannnn. Danny'd bug out, and you'd get dates. Aya! Dates! You could be a girrrrrrrrl and Mother'd make you dresses an....an..."

"And they'd drag me off to a lab to find out why I'm not sick. Then you'd be all alone with no one to ramble at."

"Oh..." Pierce murmured, as if this was the first time he'd heard it. "Well, you can wear bonnets." he allowed.

"You going to pick up my rounds? Handle the guns?" she kicked a carcass out of the way, heavy boots thudding into something scaled, then offered her hand to help Pierce up.

"...your guns are creepy! They cracked my collarbone! Demon guns!" he batted at her hand playfully instead of taking it.

"They're modified and you were holding it wrong." she snorted, capturing his hands and pulling.

He stood, for a moment, looked down from his lofty height of almost-six-feet...then collapsed sideways against the much smaller person. "Aya! You shot me! Again!" he wasn't screaming in pain just...annoyed. Miffed? He wouldn't be feeling any pain if they got him to a med before the high wore off.

"You slagged a rifle." Brea muttered, crawling from under the man and going to retrieve the horses. "Come on, we need to get you back, then I need to get back up here before night to harvest these...and hell, we've got those feds coming in...tonight? Tomorrow?" Given that most beasts in the storms were unique, harvesting their skins and such made wonderful trade items. It helped out when Aya needed to find parts for slagged guns or supplies for her rounds.

"Dunno! Don't care!" Pierce giggled "I was bait!"

"Yep. Come on, up you go..." she half-dragged him up the saddle, then strapped him down with cord she'd thoughtfully stuck in a pocket of her duster. That done, she stalked off into the valley to find her hat and pull it down firmly over her ears. There, all better. Just a ranger with a pointed chin and blond hair showing under a hat now.

"Heyyyyy...Aya....Brea....girl gun lady? I'm tied to a horsssseee..."

Pierce flapped against the cords, and she leaned over casually from her own mount to smack his head when electricity sparked along his fingers. "Down boy. We're going home." This time, when he started singing, she joined in. It'd been a good storm.