Brooklyn swiped a hand across the back of her forehead, flicking off a thin sheen of sweat into the distance. She’d been hard at work over the course of the afternoon, bent over half the broken items in the city trying to put them back together again. Though she and her sister lived in the Inner Citadel again, she continued to accept broken bits and bobs from anyone who wanted to bring her something. She was currently finishing the bent handlebars of an old bicycle. Admittedly she’d spent a ridiculous amount of time ringing the tiny bell on the bike to a beat only she could hear, until someone finally leaned out of one of their expensive windows and shot her a stern look.
The people in the Inner Citadel were so uptight, she truly wondered if they ever got tired of it. In some ways, it was better than the Outers because it was much nicer, much safer in the Inners. It was as if everyone had no sense of danger in the Inners, going about their lives worried about nothing. Either way, rich people had broken shit that needed fixing too, and as Brooklyn finished hammering out the last twist of the metal she decided she needed to take a break. Her back cracked when she stood up, it ached from all the stooping over projects. She wore an olive green jumpsuit--with pockets-- that she’d stitched together herself, and a pair of white, sturdy canvas slip-on shoes. She turned to go and get some water and cool off, when her foot tangled over something and she tripped, falling on her stomach hard.
“What the ass?” She hissed, crawling onto her knees and turning around to glare at the offending…weird box? There was a weird box on the ground, lying on its side innocently as if it hadn’t just given her a dirt smoothie. The box was metal, and appeared to have fallen from the basket connected to the old bike. The metal box was about the size of a large shoebox, and was wrapped with several rusted chains. Brooklyn crawled over to it, staring at the very rusted box, and lifting it up to shake it by her ear. There was clearly a sound but she couldn’t identify what might be in the box.
“What if there’s money in here? Mama’s getting paid extra!” Brooklyn said out loud to herself, getting a pair of bolt cutters and holding it to the chains,
“Alright, come on…” But the bolt cutters could not get through the thick, rusted chains or the lock. She threw the bolt cutters aside. Well That didn’t work. Second try, Brooklyn brought out a welding torch, trying to melt the chain off...which only succeeded in creating an even thicker, melted mess around the box.
“Listen box, I want whatever pot of gold is at the end of your rainbow box. I’m going to get inside of you, and when I do you’re going to wish I used luber first.” She said angrily at the box, throwing up her hands. It was time to bring out the big guns. The big, go boom kind.
Why he, a Task Force man, lieutenant of specialists more apt to eliminating Infected than corralling drunken youths on King's Boulevard- that escaped him. Maybe they were understaffed- maybe Alex was getting back at him for the truths he told concerning that new fiancée of his. Whatever the case, he was stiffly making his way to the source of the sound, weapon exposed at his belt and uniform clean over his Military-sculpted figure. Not many clothing items fit him quite as snug and comfortably like the Military-issued uniform, as some of his compatriots like to point out to him.
He didn't expect to find much- a troublemaker, a visitor from the outer rings of Stronghold that an Inner Citadel snob didn't like the look of. However, as he came upon the scene, first marked by sounds of banging and whirring, metallic scrapping and heaves of effort, he didn't expect to find it as banal as someone crouched over a box of indistinguishable make.
Dallas watched the person, a woman of dark hair dressed casually in a loose jumpsuit which, upon closer inspection, was frayed with the signs of homemake, with an arm planted on his hip and a displeased look of "they didn't seriously call me out here to investigate this?." After she threw her hands up in a show of exasperation, Dallas decided to make himself known with the directive, almost formal voice of a lawkeeper.
"What seems to be the problem here?" Though it was not clear by his question, he was more interested in how the activity was disturbing the local peace, rather than finding what was in the box. Such an intention could be, however, lost in translation.
Brooklyn didn’t look up from the box, even as a man wandered over and watched her. She rolled her eyes at his official sounding tone, but overall still seemed unconcerned about his presence, as crouched down and dug in her bag for something. Whatever was in that box would sate her curiosity for the day, she was sure of it.
“The problem is this old box. Gotta figure out what’s inside. Look at it, it’s practically taunting me over there, all rusted shut.” She said she'd bitten her lip and squinted at the box as if it was calling her out to a showdown at high noon. She continued to dig in her bag, glancing up finally and looking at the man directly. Brooklyn frowned, and observed the man with the weirdly tight uniform and scowl combo. Ugh, military.
“Well, thanks for stopping by, you can go now. Nothing to see here.” She said dismissively, then she cheered and stood, having found what she’d been looking for. In her hand, she held multiple sticks with long wicks that were clearly some form of explosive. Her eyes glinted slightly manically as she smiled and headed for the box. Clearly she had no regard for the man sent there to stop her, for she had the box on her brain.
Brooklyn often fixated on problems in a way that might be a little unhealthy. What was in the box likely wasn’t money or anything amazing, but the feeling of opening it-especially this way- would send the rush of endorphins and dopamine she was looking for. There was no better feeling than fixing something, except doing something dangerously. Here, she was about to do both and she nearly shivered with anticipation.
Posted 11-23-2021, 07:20 AM
Posted 10-21-2021, 10:08 PM
This post was last modified: 10-21-2021, 10:37 PM by Brooklyn Bridges
Things That Go Boom In The Night
