47Haven

Tomboy Enthusiast
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Futanari
  4. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Fantasy, yuri, slice-of-life, war romance, action oriented, organized crime, star-crossed lover (like a mafia and a police kind of thing)
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Name (& pronunciation): Elizabeth Lowe Vryheid
Date of Birth (& age): 7th April 2119 (25), she's forgotten about her DoB though
Place of Birth: Neo Congo, formerly Cameroon before the Congo expansion
Gender: Female
Species/Racial Origin: African-British, African father and British mother
Social Class/Community Status: Lower class
Language: Afrikaans, English
Family/Friends/Pets/Etc: Lives alone. Loves to take cares of stray animals though, but never adopted any.

Physical Description
Height: 176 cm
Weight: 57 kg
B/W/H: 84/69/98
Hair: Naturally black, but she bleached it and sprayed light gray-silver onto it. It mostly stays unkempt untrimmed, and she does most of the cutting herself, which is mostly just bunching them together and cutting it with a knife. She only cuts it when it gets too distracting, which doesn't really happens often since she wears headband and ponytail when she's working.
Eyes: Ice blue
Limb Dexterity: Mainly right handed
Detailed Physical Description: Her lips is thinner than most, along with sharper and smaller nose, courtesy to her British ancestry, with slightly sharp chin and slightly defined jawline. She's considered quite tall for a girl, but she rarely lets it get to her, and if anything, she's actually grateful for her height, as it allows easier access. Thanks to her daily work of scrap collecting and hauling those, she developed quite the muscle, notably the thighs and back muscle. She also trains daily to develop her abs as well, mostly only to balance her look. She got burn scars running from her left cheek, grazing her eyes a bit, down to her left arm, thanks to an explosion while she was scrap collecting. There's tons of smaller cuts and scrapes due to her line of work, but nothing major, aside from the two long stitches scars, one on her right hip, another on her right thigh, just above the knee.


Typical Clothing/Equipment:
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Her general outfits consist of the hooded turtleneck caped jacket and beige cargo pants, along with the boots. She wore a turtleneck sleeveless muscle shirt underneath the cape, fitting to her stomach, while also wearing a harness belt (without the corset part), which she often attach pockets to for added storage aside from her utility belt (but with much more mismatched color). She'd add a red plaid shawl when she's travelling, along with a desert goggle to protect her eyes. She also mostly wears a black fingerless gloves, which she changes to a proper mechanic gloves when doing repair work.

When she wants to be less inconspicuous, especially in the domed city, she forgoes the jacket for a dusty black suit and similarly dusty and stained y-shirts that she found on the scrapyard. It was male suit, but it suits her just fine. She still wears the beige cargo pants, as it's the only one that she has, no tie, and she lets the top two and bottom button unbuttoned. It still draws some attention, but it's not as bad as a full camo jacket. At least it's just the condition of the suit.

When doing work on her mech, she dons a dusty old olive coveralls, missing the left arm sleeve, thanks to the same explosion that scarred her. Her utility belt is fashioned from scraps that she find as well, so the style is largely mismatched, and it changes often to due how shabby and in tatters they are. She also pilots her mech in her mech suit, as she's not able to afford a proper plugsuit to be made for her. She still wears the turtleneck sleeveless shirt, along with a dark gray compression spats underneath the coveralls. She usually only wears the coveralls when she need to wash her clothes.

Weapon wise, she has an extremely rusty Mateba 2006m full black revolver, one that she finds in the scrapyard. It no longer worked, as there's no more bullets to be found of its caliber, but she still carries it around. She loves spinning the thing, playing with the spent casing that remained in the revolver when she found it, and it's also useful for bluffing and intimidating. Nowadays, people felt safe from being shot at thanks to the widespread shield module, but that only works with laser weapon, which admittedly is the most widely used kind nowadays, so it really helps to have a kinetic weapon from way before the disaster, even if it doesn't work. She also carries a similarly rusted tactical axe, one that she fashioned from scraps, and a newer, cleaner knife (the bottom one), one that she bought recently. Both are used mostly for her scrap collecting, but she's proficient enough to use it for self-defense. Of course, her wrench, screwdriver, hammer, and her repair tool can easily be used as weapons, but she prefer to not use them for that purpose, as tools are hard to come by in the slums.

latest
For more detailed and closer look at the parts

Classification: Skirmisher
Frame: Bipedal lightweight skeleton
Armor class: Light armor
OS: Considered ancient. Uses the 3rd gen OS, which helps with the fuel management and booster efficiency, but lacks in the targeting and automated functions, like venting heat, reloading, target tracking, and visor cleanup. Most of the mech uses the 7th gen OS nowadays, which pretty much mimics the human brain in terms of automated function, targeting system, and AI to help with the whole stuff.
Equipment: A shotgun (no 1) built into the left forearm, which can fire backward for added recoil, a single-fire high output beam rifle (without the scope), short-range shockwave blast on both palm, digital chaff mounted on the left shoulder, and heavy duty scrap-fed railgun (only one) on right shoulder.

Carries two axes on the thighs, one smaller, meant for throwing as it's tethered to the waist, one bigger with telescopic handle, meant to be wielded as poleaxe. Has a built-in telescopic executioner sword on it's right forearm, and can extend long enough to be held with its handle on the right hand. Also has built in short dagger on each feet.

Equipped with a subpar energy shield that is capable of taking hits from light attacks, but mostly useless against most high output weapons. Relies more on the plethora of booster installed on most limbs and back, giving it excellent speed and increases the velocity by quite a lot, while sacrificing armor and defense, as the booster is quite the weak spot.

The mech that she pieced together from scraps that she found. She managed to polish off some of the rust, and repainted a nice coat of navy, but it's still clear that it's a pieced together junk mech. There's lots of mismatched pattern and shapes, with its right arm and shoulder bulkier to compensate for the recoil from the railgun, while also having bigger thruster, since it's the hand that mostly wields the melee and handle the rifle recoil. Its legs are also slightly mismatched, but Elizabeth did quite a considerable job picking out similar looking parts. She often swap out parts when it gets too damaged, or if she felt like it, but most of the weapons stays consistent, as those were the newer gen that she bought, aside from the melee weapons, which she fashioned from scraps.

The frame itself surprisingly held up quite well, considering that it was a scrap. Elizabeth just found it laying on top of a scrap pile, with most of the armor out of repair. However, since she's been using it for more than 5 years now, it definitely could use an upgrade, or at least a replacement, as the frame itself wasn't built for cushioning heavy impacts, especially from such melee weapon boosted by thrusters and railgun.

Personality/Attributes

Personality/Attitude: Quite the hothead, and tend to pick a fight with a lot of people that she disagree with, even just slightly. She's however quite honest, even if her words says otherwise, her expression and body language clearly what she felt, or thought. She can be quite frank at times as well, the more pissed off she is, the franker she became. Despite that, she can be quite considerate of how other felt, just not considerate enough to think before she speaks.

She got some issues that needs to be taken care of, since this issue caused her to not be able to trust many people. While it works to her advantage to not be so trusting, especially considering she's in the dog-eat-dog part of the civilization, it also considerably hinders her socialization progress, which would be needed if she ever want to actually rebuild her slum. She only trust a few people, mostly those who lives in the slums with her, and doesn't actually go out much, and one particular mechanic in the domed city, at least enough to let her tinker with her mech.

She's quite the machine enthusiast, as she loves working on her mech, or sometimes just making up stuff for the slums. Granted most of her invention is just and much more dangerous version of the actual thing, and mostly doesn't work properly, but it's the thought that counts. She spent most of her free time experimenting with weapons for her mech, while also studying how it works. She loves battle just as much, as she often jumps into her mech whenever there's potentially hostile mech. She rarely boast about her winning though, and is mostly indifferent about whether she wins or not, as she would be very preoccupied thinking about what went wrong and what went right during the battle, to the annoyance of her opponent most of the time.

Skills/Talents: She's very handy with tools, and her mech is a living proof of it, no matter how segmented it looked. She's also a great pilot, courtesy to an old VR pilot training system that she scavenged, one that she toyed around with since she's 14. She's able to focus on several things at once, which is a must if she's piloting with a 3rd gen OS. She can hold herself in a human-to-human fight, but that's mostly thanks to her brute strength.
Favorites/Likes: Machine, mech, weapons, grilled meat, and mushrooms. Love dogs so much that she would kill someone for simply harassing one. Also loves playing with insects as well, if she ever found one. Loves chewing on something.
Most Hated/Dislikes: Frogs, snails, and similarly slimy and squishy animals. Needless killing, and snobby behavior. Quite squeamish of limbs bending in way it's not supposed to, and can easily throw up if she stares too long at gore.
Goals/Ambitions: To rebuild the slums into a proper place where anyone can live in, then to emigrate to the orbitals.
Strengths: Has quite the perseverance, able to just charge headlong once she found a way to the finish line. Able to spot details and minor changes quickly. Multitasking capability. Trained instinct and reflexes for fights and piloting, which she relies most often, instead of senses.
Weaknesses: Actually has slight hyperopia, which makes her unable to read unless she held it at least a forearm length from her eyes. This bars her from even learning about wiring and more complicated technology, even if she has the tools to do so. Slightly tech-illiterate, as most of the tech she interacts with is at least a decade old. Can't actually aim if she properly aims, as she has much better shot at hitting something if she just relies on instinct and reflex. Slightly deaf on the left ear, thanks to the explosion. Rather easy to anger, and her honesty is quite a weakness in certain cases. Often get anxiety attacks when she's in the middle of a huge crowd.
Fears: Ghost. Anything slimy, squishy, AND able to expand and deflate, as she's really afraid if one of them pops or explode, spraying her with slime. Close spaces, especially if she's trapped.
Hobbies/Interests: Playing with the revolver, trying out new food, specifically the unique one, and tinkering.

Philosophy of Life: "There's only failure if you didn't learn anything from it"
"Everything should at least be treated as equals"
Religion/Beliefs: None
Fetishes/Strange Behaviors: Really fidgety, especially when she's thinking. The more panicked, the more thing she fidgets with. Has tendency to moves her arm a lot when talking, not really visualizing the thing she's saying most of the time, but just moving it like it's part of her tongue. Loves to chew, and has strange affection towards cracking and crunching hard stuff, like hard candy.
Most Instructive/Painful/Memorable Experience: The time when she has to part with her family, and subsequently had to live in the slums. Her family wasn't actually a good family, but they appeared good in her eyes. She was actually abandoned, as her parents emigrated to the orbitals without her, telling her that they were drafted to fight the invisible war there, and had to leave her behind 'for her safety', while in reality, they didn't have enough money to emigrate her. She still goes on thinking that her parents is still fighting, and believes that she should help them by at least preparing a good home for them to come back to.

That was when she's 12. She got booted from the home soon after, since she got no income, and ended in the slums, where she lived ever since. At first, the desire to change the slums comes from that foolish desire of preparing a nice home for her parents to come back to, but over the years, the slum dwellers became a bigger priority for Elizabeth, as she experienced how oppressed they are, and how much better her life in the domed city is compared to them.
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Name (& pronunciation): Delia Steyn
Age: Old enough to know better
Place of Birth: Orbital
Gender: Female
Species/Racial Origin: Afrikaaner
Language: English, Afrikaans

Physical Description
Delia is almost a stereotype of what gravity-dwellers imagine Orbitals to be like - tall, statuesque, effortlessly beautiful and graceful, with long blonde hair and pale gray eyes. She's very aware of her effect on people, and uses it like the tool it is.

Typical Clothing/Equipment:
Varies according to the situation, but always appropriate and on-point. She can switch from high society to corporate boardroom to grease-stained coveralls without batting an eye.

Personality/Attributes

Delia seems to view the world with detached amusement, as if she can't quite believe how silly it all is. She's always ready with a biting quip, and she can be almost casually cruel at times - often without realising just how vicious her words can be.

And then, at times, she can flash a sudden and violent temper. This is rare, but when it happens it tends to end ugly.

And yet again, there are moments when she shows a tender, sentimental side - one that's almost childishly vulnerable and sensitive.

If there is one constant to her behaviour, it's her unpredictability. You never quite know what you're getting with her, and her mercurial ways can drive you mad if you don't have your own head screwed on right.

It’s the year 2144. The century hasn’t really been kind for the humankind, despite the significant technological advances that they reached during the 21st​ century, or rather, precisely because of it. The scientist, those most of whom has already emigrated to a safer location, predicted that comes the end of the 22nd​ century, earth would be just as habitable as mercury, just with much more dust and violent storm and much less heat, but even the last part is still being contention. Yet, you don’t just get a free pass to emigrate, giving the impression that they just want a social class based cleansing. Leave the middle to lower class onto the forsaken planet, replace the labor force with androids, and fuck off into god knows where. Still, it’s not all as bad as it seems, there’s still some of the scientist that believed that there’s a way to save the earth, and some that even dared to stay on earth to prove it. There’s also those who has emigrated, who’s currently trying to change how the system works from inside the comfort of the orbital, so that those left back on earth can have a better chance of surviving.

Or at least that’s what Elizabeth thinks, as she continued grumbling about the huge scrapped arc reactor that just won’t budge no matter how many debris she cleared from its surrounding. “If I knew that there’ll be an arc reactor, I’d bring Raven along to tow this” Elizabeth continues mouthing off, as she wipes the sweat from her brow. The young lass continued on using her axe to feel around the bottom of the reactor, trying to find out how deep the thing is buried. The arc reactor itself isn’t too big, as arc reactor goes, as it’s only as big as herself, no doubt that it was used for one of heavy duty truck. It’s too small to go onto the mech, but it’s big enough to help power the slum, or just be sold for quite the profit, not to mention that Elizabeth could learn something from it as well. Most arc reactor is reusable, as long as the frame is intact, you just need to replace the generator material inside, and it’s good to be reused, which makes it even more important that she doesn’t leave the heap without the arc reactor in tow. Other scavenger would have already heard her axe chiming against the metal, the groan of the rusted metal, or just her own groan, and if she left the thing there, no doubt someone would try to get it.

After another hour of trying, Elizabeth sat on top of the reactor, catching her breath as she ate her lunch. A pair of low grade nutrient block, along with canned peaches from before the cataclysm, one that she found lying in a broken fridge, along with the skeletal remains of someone hunkering within it. Quite the macabre sight, but she’s not just going to let a proper food pass by. She of course smelled the peaches first before eating it, as she still need drag the reactor back to the domed city of New Algeria, formerly Niger before the cataclysm, before putting it in her mouth and rejoicing from the sweet juices that burst forth. It’s been months since she last had anything other than nutrient blocks, but as much as she wanted to enjoy the juicy treat, she needs to get the reactor out before dusk fall, or she won’t be able to go back to anywhere. The good news, and the bad news as well, is that the weight of herself and her tools on top of the reactor managed to tip it slightly forward, dislodging it from the packed sand that has been keeping it in for as long as it has. The bad news, of course, comes from the fact that she was still sitting on top of it, so she spilled the rest of the peaches onto the sandy ground as the reactor tilted.

Elizabeth cursed as loud as she could, before scurrying to the ground, picking up the peaches that is still within the can, uncontaminated by the contaminated sands. At least 50% of the peaches was wasted on the ground, which saddens her heart quite a lot. “…Then again, I might just be able to get a new canned fruits with the money from the arc reactor” Elizabeth told herself, before she sighed a long one, dusted herself, and stretches. She took a big gulp from her canteen, before she got out her axe once more. “Right, you’re going with me tonight” Elizabeth muttered, before she started clearing out the debris and sand from the area that was lifted. It took another hour and a lot of curses, but Elizabeth was able to finally completely dislodge the reactor from the sand, and after a lot of grunting, got it onto her cart. Still panting, Elizabeth sat down on the cart, drinking the rest of the water from her canteen. “Drat, should’ve brought more” she complained, as she stashed the canteen onto the cart, and started pushing towards the New Algeria, leaving the heap of scrapyard behind her.

It’s the best haul she’s got for this year so far, and probably the best for this year, even if it’s still April. You don’t just find an intact reactor laying around on the scrapyard, since it usually never got there in the first place, or some lucky sod nicked it first. “Must’ve been pretty recent. Perhaps an accident” the girl wondered, which would actually explain quite a bit. New stuff wouldn’t just get lodged deep into the sand, which would probably explain why she was able to find it in the first place; nobody else was able to get it out. Perhaps Elizabeth was the 10th​ contender to take it out from the ground, and the 9 other people helped loosen the thing from the sand. She’s not about to question about the details however, the important thing is that she was able to get it, and now she just need to get it safely to the city. The motorized cart does help lessening the burden, but the cart only helps with that, so it’s still pretty much walking speed, and Elizabeth is far from thinking that she’s safe in the desert because there’s no one around. With a determined grunt, Elizabeth pushed on, hoping that she’d be safe from preying eyes.

------------------------------------

Thankfully, the only danger that she faced was the usual desert hyenas, which doesn’t take too much to scare away. Loud noises, a bit of sparks from the metal, and they’ll scurry away, everyone who lives in the desert knows this. That also meant that they know there’s someone to loot when they hear or see those thing. To her luck, no other scavenger showed up, leaving the only challenge to be the actual trip on the civilized road to the city. Elizabeth had stopped by the slums to at least wash away the sweat and get a proper clothes to wear to the city, if she doesn’t want to argue with the guards. She first locked the cart to her garage first of course, and magnetically locked the reactor as well, not wanting to take chances, especially in this kind of neighborhood, the one that she cherished so much, the one that she’s been slaving to rebuild, yet still can’t trust with her belongings. Once she dumped a bucket of water on herself, refilled the canteen, and worn her suit, she continued her trip towards the city, with dusk falling behind her.

The street light has already started to light up, illuminating the desert with its blue hue, making a dotted line towards the city. These road, the old battered road just outside the city, is used by a lot of people, from all sorts of places, and for all sorts of purpose. Nobody in the domed city really cared about these roads, as they rarely had to use these to travel. The underground train goes under these roads, and nobody travels using wheeled car anymore, so most of the people on these roads are those who can’t afford the hover vehicle, or the one with no vehicle at all. That also means, most of the people using these roads are easy picking for the bandits, as they won’t be able to run away as fast, and there’s no more appealing target for the bandits than a girl, pushing a wheeled cart, carrying a precious reactor. While Elizabeth has already made a name for herself, as the one who could pull her own weight, the presence of the reactor seemed to just attract much more, enough for some bandits to risk their lives for those sweet, sweet, credits.

“Step any closer, and it’ll be off with your head” Elizabeth threatened, without even looking at the approaching bandits. “….2….3….4 heads” she counted, as she continued on pushing the cart. If they were just some snobbish domed city dweller, she wouldn’t have too much problem with them, as she just need to pull out her revolver, and watch them shiver their pants wet. These are the forsaken people though, they know how much their life is worth, and it’s definitely much cheaper than a single bullet. Not that Jun could ever fire any in the first place, but everyone knows how hard it is to find a bullet, so they all know that she wouldn’t shoot them. So all that she has, is her axe and knife. “I should buy a proper laser sometime” Elizabeth thought, as she felt the bandits getting closer. “Last warning” she threatened, still pushing the cart at her normal pace, not wanting to tire herself, not before the fight, as she started buttoning her black suit. None of the bandit heeded her warning, so she swung first.

Dusk has completely fallen once she was done with the 4 bandits. None of them had any bounties on their head, and none of them seemed familiar to her, so nothing much of value was lost. If anything, she got something out of them, an intact pack of cigarettes, branded ‘8 Cards’, and some radio like thing. She threw the electronics towards the cart, lit up the cigar, dusted herself and cleaned her axe on one of the corpses’ clothes, and walked again towards the city. “Drat, there goes another stain on the shirt” She complained as she unbuttoned the suit. The black suit is quite absorbent, and it doesn’t really show when it’s stained with blood, the shirt however, does. Thankfully no one really questions when they saw someone with bloodstain, especially when they come from outside the domed city, just as long as they don’t have the ‘cleaner’ blood on them. The guards will question her for it, but they rarely cares if the dirtybloods, those who lives outside the clean air of the domed city, kills each other, and they’d sometimes offer her to bleach it, along with offering a towel for her face. She knew it’s just their ploy to see her naked, but she doesn’t care. She cares more about her white shirt not being too bloodstained, as it would really make it harder for her to do anything in the city.

She didn’t win because she’s way more skilled than the bandits though, it’s just that most of the people who live outside the city would either be malnourished, diseased, or atrophied, and she’s just in the very lucky few who managed to get any income to start with. Elizabeth can’t even really blame them for trying to rob her, they probably even think that she was an easy prey, and a reactor isn’t such a common sight. Of course, there’s the probability that they had a family, or someone that relies on them, just like her slums relies on her, but she often tries to not think about it, or risk having an existential crisis. She just chalks it up as ‘liberating’ them, as a quick death would be a much better option than having to live in these lands. Quite the irony indeed, when she’s trying to rebuild her slum to be the place where such ‘liberation’ wouldn’t be needed. “But there’s no other way” Elizabeth thought as she sucked the cigarettes in. Bitter, cheap, definitely worth the title of ‘the beggar’s choice’, but everyone know beggars can’t be chooser. She could probably still pawn the rest of the box for a week’s worth of nutrients block, but Elizabeth decided to just keep it.

The rest of the trip was much safer, thanks to the blood on her clothes, making those who eyed her goods think twice. Elizabeth was quite thankful that both bullets and laser weapons is so pricy that she doesn’t need to worry about being sniped outside of the domed city, not unless she got a bounty on her head, which last time she checked, she hadn’t got one. It took only around 15 minutes from the skirmish for Elizabeth to reach the guard post of New Algeria. “Stop! Show your ID, and state your intention” the guard bellowed, strictly for formality. The guards already know who Elizabeth is, and what her intention into the city is, and they’re already waiting for the ‘show’. “Here you go, going to the usual place” Elizabeth showed her ID, one that she got through the help of a certain mechanic, one that is required to buy anything in the city. “Alright, step right this way miss. Seems like we need to, disinfect, you first before letting you in” The guard sneered and chuckled. *sigh* “Just make it quick” she sighed, as she pushed the cart into the checkpoint, lock it, and went into the office.

It took around half an hour for the whole ‘process’ to be finished. She hates how lecherous the guards looked at her, and she’s quite sure that some of them jack off to her once she’s gone, but they kept their words. Once they’re done, they returned her suits, slightly cleaner, and her shirt, less red, but still slightly stained, and they didn’t touch her reactor. The main reason she needed to do this, other than getting her clothes cleaned, was so that she can bring her stuff into the city, including the stuff she’s going to sell. The new law dictates that none of the stuff from outside of the city can enter the city, unless it is approved and properly disinfected by the guards. Of course, the guards immediately utilize this to their advantages. They won’t do this to the domed city dwellers, as the risk of actually getting reported is pretty high, so they only do this to the scavengers from outside, as their testimony doesn’t worth anything in the city. They charge the male a percentage of the profit from selling, and the female their body. The latter was due to the full porn legalization, which means if anyone wants to see one, they have to properly pay, and in this era of technology, there’s no going around that law.

“Thanks” Elizabeth nodded, worn her clothes, and got out of the office. She thanked the fear that’s ingrained in every cleanblood that made them think that anyone from outside of the city is diseased, which is the only reason why nobody has ever touched her, or any other female. “Hope that you can find more junk later this month, eh?” one of the guard exclaimed, which was followed by a dirty laughter from the group of guards. Elizabeth ignored them, and trudged on with her cart in tow, and cleaner clothes. She really hated that she need to do it, especially to males, with their perverted gaze ogling parts of her body, some even ogling intently on her abs and muscles, which made her even more uncomfortable. She doesn’t usually need to stand around naked for that long, since if she’s just dusty, then the process would just take 5 minutes, as they only need to generously spray it with disinfectant, and gave it back to her. She sometimes even suspected that those bandits were just hired to spill some blood onto her, so that they have a reason to clean her clothes as well. “Ugh, fucking perverts” Elizabeth grumbled, before she glanced at the clock tower. “Ah drat, gotta hurry before she closes” she cursed, before she picked up the pace.

There was still some people in the workshop, despite the lateness of the hour. Sparks of welder’s torch and from the grinder lit up the workshop’s interior. It doesn’t take Elizabeth long to find her target for tonight’s trip, as she’s mostly seen around the same area, doing the usual stuff, apparently quite absorbed into it that she doesn’t notice the new presence in the workshop. “Busy tonight, Del?” Elizabeth greeted, using the nickname that she’s been using for quite a while now. “Found this arc reactor today. Was planning to do some study on it, but I can’t seem to open it with normal tools. Battery seems to be completely out, either that, or the contact is fucked” Elizabeth explained, as she wheeled the cart next to the slender mechanic. It’s still quite an amazement for Elizabeth to see Delia within the workshop, as anyone who ever glanced at her, even for a bit, wouldn’t even think that she’d have anything to do with machines. She always looks out of place amongst the oil stained workers and soot stained machines, yet for some reason, Elizabeth thinks that she looked the best when she’s working.

Shaking the thought from her head, Elizabeth focuses back onto the reality. “How much credits would I get from this? Do you think the price would’ve fallen if I did tamper with the inside?” she asked, as she sat on a desk near Delia.
 
Delia barely glanced at Elizabeth before she whipped out a screwdriver from her voluminous tool belt, flicked it on, and started to open up an access panel.

"It's a good thing you didn't open it up, you'd have voided the warranty," Delia quipped in her cut-glass accent. "But na, you can see here...." She pointed with the screwdriver at where there were dark carbon marks inside the panel. "It shorted a while ago, you'd have to replace the aux entirely to make it worth more than scrap value. But that's where I come in, eh?"

She favoured Elizabeth with a dazzling smile that might have broken hearts across and above three continents.

"Give me a couple of days and I'll pair this up with a salvage APU and then we'll have a nice working reactor, almost new, that'd be worth a pretty penny. Or if you prefer, gift it to a township and they'll be free from paying for power for a good few years. Might be the difference between making it and starving in a lean year."

The smile stayed, but her eyes grew serious, and it was clear to Elizabeth which option Delia would prefer.

"it's yours to do with, anyway, minus my usual processing fees," Delia said. "And on that note, I've got an arena match to line up, if you're interested. Decent purse, 70-30 split, and there's nothing to stop you betting what you will on yourself."
 
“Well, it is a junk for a reason” Elizabeth thought dejectedly. She should’ve expected that there’s at least something wrong with the reactor for it to end up in the scrapyard in the first place. She was, of course, hoping that it would just be a working one so she can sell it for full price, but that would mean that the thing wouldn’t end up discarded in the first place. Still, Delia’s smile definitely helped lighten up her mood, by a ton as a matter of fact, as usual. It’s enough to make her just bring any kind of scraps just to meet her again, but of course that just won’t do, as it would just be a waste of everyone’s time. Delia’s already kind enough to let her be a regular around here, since her main business is still mech workshop, and not scrap pawnshop. She already gave her enough time by repairing it, then buying it from her, and Elizabeth’s not going to waste her time for just seeing her. She’s still just a slum dweller after all, the fact that she got this much from Delia, a domed city dweller, is already hundreds time more than what anyone would do for Elizabeth, the dirtyblood.



It took Elizabeth a few second of silence to notice that she was staring at Delia for a bit longer than needed, and that she’s still waiting for an answer. “O-Oh, yeah, well guess I can install at one of the slu-, uh, one of the township to get the cooler and the nutrient block printer running again” Elizabeth scratched her forearm, a habit of her when she gets too nervous. She hasn’t quite revealed where she lived, and to be fair, Delia never asked either, seems like she doesn’t really want to pry, or perhaps she already knew. Elizabeth only ever said that she’s ‘from around here’, and nothing else, and scrap diving is ‘one of her hobby’. Elizabeth’s not even sure why she’d cover up that details of her at that time, but over time, it became clearer why; she wants to appear equal, or at least tolerable, in front of Delia, who looked far too good for a slum-dweller to talk to. She hasn’t done a really good job of covering it up though, as she always has, as she can never hold her expression or fidgeting back. Before things get too awkward though, Elizabeth forces herself to focus on the more important part.



“Oh, another one? When, and with who?” Elizabeth perked up, as she dropped from the table she was sitting. There was never a time when she wasn’t interested in a mech fight. This, is Delia’s other role in Elizabeth’s life, and arguably the more important one, the fight broker. It kept Elizabeth’s senses and instinct from becoming too dull, and it also provided her real hobby a proper outlet, one that actually pays her. The split might not be too favorable, 30 for her, 70 for Delia, but it’s still a good deal, since Delia needs credits to arrange the fight to begin with. It’s quite sly of Delia as well, though Elizabeth’s not too sure whether she’s doing it intentionally, or it’s just her way of doing thing. Delia should know that she’s strapped for credits most of the time, so suggesting to ‘do the good thing’, charging the repair fee, then giving the option out, all within one swoop, would feel like it’s someone finessing you out of your money. However, that’s the last thing that Elizabeth felt about the deal, as it was something that she wants to begin with, a mech fight, and a decent payout, and the reason to visit Delia’s workshop in the future without needing to find a proper scrap to sell.



“I have to bring Raven for a tune up then. I have added a bit of extra armor around the thruster, and I feel like it’s a bit off, and I’ll probably have to recharge the guns as well” Elizabeth face scrunches as the got to the recharging part. Ammunition cost credits, and if she’s going into an arena fight, then she’d better top it up properly. “Ah well, take it from the winnings?” Elizabeth suggested, as usual. It’s rare that she lost an arena fight, thanks to Delia as well as she doesn’t just pick the strongest contender, which should allow a more than 80% guarantee that she’d able to pay the tune-up and recharge fee. However, she did lose a few times, so she had to pay those fees, along with the lost from her bet, and the repair job needed, and in all of those time, she’d either have to dig through her own savings, or take extra, unpaid, fights. It seems though, despite those losses, Delia seems to be confident enough to still arrange, or find, more matches for Elizabeth, and she even suspected that Delia sometimes place bets on herself as well, which while it did make her happy inside, it does add an extra layer of pressure.
 
Delia nodded gravely. "I'll rebalance Raven for the armour, top off your ammo bins, and I'll throw in a detailing as well," she said. "I'll say it again, though. You're talented enough to do better if you could only afford a better ride and train properly rather than spending your time looking for salvage. Get a corporate sponsor, get into a few ranked fights. Might even blast your way into the top leagues, if you could clean yourself up a little and learn to do present yourself properly."

She looked away, pointedly ignoring Elizabeth's tatty clothing. "It's against Johnny Navarone. Old guy in an older mech. Both have been shot up so many times it'd be a wonder if any of their parts are original. He's a sneaky sod though, so you'll have to be careful. No rushing in without a care like you've done before. I've got a vid-slug of his most recent matches for you, the angles and resolution are crap but I've edited them so you can catch some of his trickier moves."

Delia held out a small metal disc that looked like a washer but was surprisingly heavy for its size. "If you're willing to take this one, I'll arrange to have it filmed properly and we'll start building you a portfolio to promote you and get you some real matches. That is, if you think you're ready to take the next step up."

Delia's eyes returned to Elizabeth's, and held her gaze with unnerving steadiness. "So are you in, Miss Vryheid? Or should I keep you in the file with the rest of the chancers and journeymen?"
 
Elizabeth’s face darkens a bit at the proposition. This wasn’t the first time Delia suggested the further venture of course, and every time, Elizabeth always declined the offer, providing different excuses each time. The first excuse was that she wasn’t ready for the ‘big league’, then it was ‘not confident with her mech’, then ‘not sure if they’ll accept her’, then just keep on using the ‘not yet’ excuses, and its plethora of rewording, on subsequent request. She could never hate Delia for the offer however, as she knew that Delia’s just doing it out of the goodness of her heart, and that she sees the potential in her, which just makes it a bit harder for her to reject the offer, again and again, and again. The main problem wasn’t the tidying up her act, the potential harsh training, or the possible nerve-wrecking situation where she’ll be in front of thousands of people watching her fight in her junk mech, though it does add up to her worries. No, the only thing that kept Elizabeth from doing anything to step up her ‘career’, is the two word that Delia seems to be putting as a big plus: corporate sponsor.



Elizabeth knows what that entails, free stuff, increased wages and winnings, free entry to their facilities, and all the promotion that goes with it, pretty much guaranteeing her matches, and she doesn’t need to rely on the underground matches. She also knows, what it would ask for out from her. Sponsored fighters do one thing for the sponsors, promote them, and as such, there’s some stuff that the sponsors would demand the fighters to at least display, if they want to still get paid. While some sponsors would allow their fighters to be, like one of the top mech fighter in the world, AZ, who’s famous for his trash-talking and lavish lifestyle, since banning them would mean banning the reason AZ is famous to begin with, most sponsors wouldn’t budge on the matter, even more so if it’s some no name fighter from the slums. She definitely could use the winning and betting money to look presentable, but to keep looking presentable everyday? Not to mention the fact that her life would be exposed to the public, along with the how she spent her winnings. Would any sponsor allow their fighter to be investing and rebuilding the slums? Especially considering that some of them was the cause of those slums to begin with?



“Thanks, as usual” Elizabeth bowed slightly, but she hesitated to take the disk from Delia. This was the first time Delia pushed the situation this far, since she’d usually just dismiss the situation and kept arranging underground matches. This time though, she seemed set to bring Elizabeth to take the first step, and Elizabeth felt that if she declines, something would happen to their relationship. While she doesn’t need the vid-slug, nor the help of Delia to find matches, per se, doing those alone is like declining the help of a heavy machinery to lift a boulder. Technically doable, but extremely impractical. What she said is true as well, having the vid-slug would help against trickier foes, as her mech’s OS limits the kind of information that she can see on her HUD, and her tendencies to just rush in and trust her instinct. If Johnny is good enough to trick the one with up-to-date OS, then it would be easy for them to trick the 3rd​ gen OS, especially since it’s an underground fight, where that kind of dirty mods isn’t as strictly regulated as the official match. Still, Delia’s waiting for her answer.



Elizabeth paused. She thought of giving the usual excuses, but the perceived ultimatum doesn’t really have space for excuses, especially at this stage. She also doesn’t want to be seen as a coward, and the grouping that Delia’s done does sparked a bit of courage within her, courage to speak up about her reason. Elizabeth lets her arm drop to her side, before she scratched her forearm. “…Is there, a version, of this deal where, uh, there’s no need for corporate sponsors?” Elizabeth inquired, slightly nervous. “I…. I have my own reason, but I prefer to not have to bow to the whim of the corporates higher up. I don’t mind the lower wages or winnings, but, yeah, corporate sponsorship just doesn’t sit right” Elizabeth explained for the first time. It’s still not the full reason, but it should be enough to either get Delia off her back on this issue, or make her reevaluate the worth she sees in her. If it turns out that Delia is quite the pro-corporate, then guess this is where the line is drawn. “…If it’s the kind that of sponsorship that would still let me do the usual stuff, then I’ll probably agree to it, a-and I assure you, it’s has something to do outside of me not wanting to clean up” she added, a bit apologetically.
 
Delia's brow furrowed just a tad at Elizabeth's reply.

"Cleaning up isn't my biggest concern," she said icily. "What I'm thinking about, Miss Vryheid, is your lack of ambition. I can source funding for you that comes without the baggage of corporate sponsors, for sure. It's a pain in the potte but what do you need to care, that's my job and not yours. What is your job though, is to win and keep winning, 'less you want to stay a scavvie forever."

Her eyes softened just a little. "Look poplap, I don't want to be a bitch, but I've seen enough of pilots getting chewed up and spat out by this business. Talented ones, some as good as you or better. But an you want to get somewhere, you have to straighten up and get serious about it. Stop taking it like a hobby, do it right."

She straightened up to her diminutive height, which barely brought her up to Elizabeth's statuesque shoulders, and brushed herself off.

"Let's start with doing a proper film study. Clear your calendar for tonight, we'll have a little braai just for us two girls ourselves, and we'll go over the slug and work out tactics for old Johnny. Make me happy and we'll crack open a couple of brews when we're done. Piss me off and you're not leaving until we're done."

She whipped off her ballcap and shook out her long blonde hair. Somehow, despite the heat and grime of the workshop, it still smelled fresh, like cold cucumber juice on a hot summer day.
 
Elizabeth felt the sudden and urgent need to retort at Delia’s remark. She has ambition of course, and she has been keeping it on her one track mind ever since she decided to follow it. However, a few things held her back from barking back, with the most obvious one being that she doesn’t want their relationship to turn sour. Second, considering that she’s still the one that’s finding her work, Elizabeth felt like it wouldn’t be wise to bite the hand that feeds, especially one that has been feeding her quite generously. Third, she’s not quite sure whether Delia said that to be hostile, or to encourage her, as her gesture seems to indicate the latter, but the word choice indicates the former. However, the one thing that does the most in stopping her mouth from spewing bile, is the fact that Elizabeth herself might not be completely sure that what Delia said isn’t true. She got her goal set, the way to reach that goal set, but is the steps that she has taken is the quickest way, or is it just her procrastinating? Was there really no other way than scrounging for scraps and participate in the occasional underground mech fight? These questions aren’t something that Elizabeth can answer right now.



Doesn’t stop her from letting her contempt show on her face though.



Elizabeth took a deep breath to calm her down, which also helps keeping her mouth shut for the time being. There’s lots of arguments that she wants to make, but now isn’t the time nor place to do it. It also does help by thinking that Delia is only thinking about her future, however unlikely that is, considering she also got her hand in the jar, but it gives some level of reason to Elizabeth’s mind. By the time Delia started laying out the plan for them, Elizabeth’s feature has gone back to her usual straighter expression, occasionally huffing the rest of the contempt away, which isn’t really a hard thing to do, considering that her mouth has already started drooling at the mention of the grill and brews. She thanked the deities that she found those canned peaches and ate the blocks earlier, cause if she came here tired and even slightly hungry, she’d embarrass herself by sounding a loud stomach grumble. Not that her face did any better in hiding her focus on this conversation however, as her ears perked up and eyes glitter slightly at the mention of the foods. In his mind, she made the necessary mental note for the important stuff as well, but she can’t help her expression from turning that way.



“You don’t really need to expect me to clear the calendar. I’m not really the kind of person who ever got any appointment” Elizabeth responded, after not so discreetly swallowing the saliva that has been building up. “I’ll bring Raven along as well then. Much easier to directly practice the strat rather than keeping it in theory. Might be useful to find the limit of my piloting as well, rather than finding that out on the big day” She shrugged, as she straightened her body up, getting ready to leave. Her mind immediately wandered onto Delia though, who just let her hair flow out from her cap, spreading a faint, fresh smell around her. She knew she shouldn’t be staring, she knew that she should move soon before Delia caught her, she knew that she should close her mouth, which has opened slightly, but Elizabeth couldn’t stop any of it from happening. She had a feeling that she’s not the only one Delia does this on, and it would still have the same effect to those other people, but then again, it’s highly likely that it’s just her habit in the workshop, nothing to do with flaunting her appeal at all.



With a violent, but silent, pinch, Elizabeth managed to break free of the spell, and walked towards the arc reactor that is sitting next to Delia’s desk. “A-Aite, guess I’ll see you here again soon then. I’ll also be leaving this one on your care as well” Elizabeth asked as she patted the arc reactor. She tried to be casual and nonchalant, but as usual, her expression couldn’t betray what she felt, as it blushes slightly, and her eyes unable to meet Delia’s eyes directly. She doesn’t wish for Delia to be suspicious of her too much though, so she started walking towards the exit. “Oh, and one last thing” she stopped on her track, and turned around. Her expression is more serious than before, despite the faint hint of blushing leftover, and she forced herself to look at Delia on the eye. “I do have ambition” Elizabeth declared sternly. Her mouth opened slightly, as she felt herself trying to explain what that ambition is, and why she looks like she doesn’t have one, but she stopped short, and turned back again. With a nonchalant wave, Elizabeth walked out of the workshop.
 
Delia watched Elizabeth stalk out of the workshop before allowing a wry smile to cross her lips. That girl was so very transparent; every emotion that passed through her heart, every thought that went through her head, was written across her features to be read by anyone who could be bothered to pay attention.

Delia didn't mind terribly much. A big part of her job - much more than most of her clients might think - was to motivate people, get them to go in the direction she wanted them to go. How and why wasn't hugely important. The vital thing was that they did.

Delia was very, very good at getting people to do the things she needed doing.

So as the sun began to set, Delia began to bank the charcoal fire in the braai pit, setting an old steel grill over the glowing coals. There was a nice hot zone for searing and a cooler area for slower cooking. She had a package of boerewoers sausage still in its butcher paper, marinaded chicken on skewers, other skewers full of onions and peppers and corn. A pot of coffee brewing, a handle of rum to stir into the coffee against the chill of the night, and some beers in the cooler.

And a simulator setup, with multiple screens and a gesture-gauntlet control, all ready to hook up to Raven.

She was going to push Elizabeth to the limit, and perhaps a bit further.
 
The walk back towards her home was much more uneventful compared to the walk towards the city. Getting out of the city is much easier than getting in after all, so she practically just walked out New Algeria without as much as a fuss on the checkpoint. Some of the guards still leers at her, but since they have no reason to hold her around, that’s the only thing that they did. Along the way, Elizabeth came across several janitor droid, mopping up the street where she fought those vagrants earlier on. No bodies was visible, and there’s only a small bit of blood left on the concrete road. These robots are dispatched by the city’s officials to make sure that the outer layer of the domed cities stays clean and amicable, which usually means corpse cleanup, either from the scuffle between the guard and trespasser, or just the usual bandits and robbery case. Elizabeth heard rumors that those corpse were taken away, before then processed to become nutrient blocks, which was then used as the officials’ face-saving ‘charity’ campaign of distributing food towards those who needs it. It is just a rumor though, but considering the technology that goes into making those nutri-blocks, she can’t be sure that if it is exaggerated rumor. After all, the nutri-printer is able to pretty much extract the basic components, or the nutrients, of any ingredients, any ingredients, and turn it into an edible, coarse, and tasteless blocks, making it ideal food for low to no income people.

The words that Delia spoke still rings within Elizabeth as she opened the door to her garage. Was her motivation so far has only just been the thing that she told herself after all? Elizabeth knew, or at least, she thought, that the first thing to reach the orbital is to get money enough to emigrate, which is why she was scavenging, to improve the slum she’s at, to be able to welcome her parents. It didn’t quite occur to her before that the two thing wasn’t really quite connected, because the last time she thought about this, she gets overwhelmed by the scale of stuff she needs to do, and decided to just focus on the first step, which is gather to money. Was that the thing that Delia sees in her? The fact that she doesn’t even know where the end of her route? But she never talks about it to her to begin with, so how could she sees that part of her? These questions swirls within Elizabeth’s mind for quite a while, as she docked the trolley on the equipment closet, and dumped the content of her scavenging gear on her maintenance desk.

After a quick shower to wash the dust from her hair, Elizabeth changed to her usual piloting getup, ditching the suits and pants. She debated a bit whether or not she should take some nutri-blocks before setting off, considering that she wants her stomach empty to enjoy the braai to its fullest, and that she’s running short of the blocks, but she really doesn’t want her stomach grumbling while she’s drilled under Delia’s training. She decided to eat one, as pissing off Delia is quite far down on the list of things that she wants to do. She then took a short while to do some rough maintenance of her tools, since she has been using it to chip off metal junks, stowing it back to her sack, and dropped it into the pilot seat of her mech, which lies on the underground garage just under her house, though it’s easier to just say that the whole garage is her makeshift house. Once she checked the status of her mech through her relic-of-a-computer and made sure that it’s in optimal, or at least as much as optimal as it could under the condition, Elizabeth locked the door to her house, jumped into the cockpit, and took off.

Entry into New Algeria using the mech is much, much, much easier than entering on foot, on the account that every mech had to be registered before it could properly take off to begin with. Her mech, already comes pre-registered, as her frame used to be part of the construction mech for the construction of the dome. Changing the ownership, explaining how she got it, fighting the ensuing lawsuit regarding ‘theft’ of ‘company’s property’ by the now defunct construction company, and changing the class from ‘worker’ to ‘fighter’ mech, now that was the worst part of getting the mech. In the end, she managed to get full ownership and changed the mech class due to a very stupid accident within the registration bureau, where the person who’s in charge of sorting the paperwork dropped her form onto the ‘accepted’ pile, instead of the ‘rejected’ pile, after the nth number of time she tried to submit it. Elizabeth didn’t really know what happened, whether it was actually properly accepted, a mistake, which was the actual reason, or whether there was someone else that ‘made’ the ‘mistake’ to happen. At any rate, the officials can’t do much, to their absolute irritation, and Elizabeth can get in and out of the city in her mech with ease. There’s of course the fuel problem of course, so she can’t just ditch the entry gate forever.

As dusk fell onto New Algeria, Raven fell softly onto the hangar nearby Delia’s workshop, and after a few aggressive hum, fell silent as well, followed by Elizabeth’s disembarkment from the pilot cockpit. The smell of the feast down below reached Elizabeth’s nose as soon as she opened the hatch, causing her stomach to grumble lowly. ‘Dang, I hope she’s not going to have me do simulation next to the grill’ Elizabeth grimaced, as she descended the stairs. She could see the simulation equipment, and while it’s nowhere near the grill, it’s still close enough to be smelt. Then again, with her condition, she needs to be at least a kilometer away to stop smelling it, and even then, she wouldn’t get the smell out of her mind for a few days. It doesn’t take long for her to descend the stairs, and as soon as she reached ground level, Elizabeth jogged towards Delia. She wasn’t quite sure if she’s late, or that Delia already planned to set up the grill this early, seeing that there’s already a few things grilling on top of it.

“Ah, sorry, was I late to the meeting?” Elizabeth apologized, as she tried her best to not eye the grill, stop her mouth from salivating, or her stomach to grumble. She failed to do any of those, naturally, which sends a couple pints of blood rushing towards her face. “Don’t mind that, I already took a nutri-blocks before coming here, so I should be fine, should you want me to do simulation ASAP” Elizabeth explained, unnecessarily, considering that she doesn’t really have any idea about what’s Delia’s plan to begin with.