Chapter Text
Seagull shivered.
The sun was slowly vanishing behind one of the countless junk hills, growing darkness beginning to hide the filth enough that one could almost pretend every inch wasn’t covered in grot. He stretched and began to pack up his fishing gear. The toxic lake didn’t have anything worth catching in it, but it was still a peaceful way to pass the time, and he had plenty of time.
Or, so he thought, until his gaze fell on the black cloaked figure behind him, and the scythe they held.
“So, Death has finally realised I’m too good for this world?”
“I’m sorry?”
The reaper sounded taken aback, tilting their head. Their hood shifted, and the remaining light showed a pale, long and worn face, with a few teeth jutting out, still wrapped in skin. Human, maybe a little sickly, but not otherworldly.
“…Don’t mind me, thinking aloud. Can I… help you?”
His cloak squirmed, and he appeared to re-adjust his hunch back.
“Ah yes, would you know of any settlements nearby?”
Seagull paused to consider his options. On closer inspection, the scythe was dull, and the wrist that peaked out was stick thin. The mysterious figure didn’t look like a threat he couldn’t handle himself if it came down to it.
“The town of Kuvaq is just over on that hill. Are you looking for somewhere to rest the night?”
The man scratched his face, looking a little sheepish.
“Yes, well, I’m actually looking for somewhere new to call home. Somewhere far from the past, though I suppose its hard to completely escape on foot.”
He looked over to the horizon, where the black snake of the under-construction monorail trailed. Seagull had to consider again. A man escaping his past, with possible ties to the military that watched over them; it could be a recipe for the destruction of his oasis… or a potential investment for the future.
“Follow me, I’ll see what we can do for you.”
“I don’t believe we’ve shared pleasantries yet.”
Seagull strode into his office, opening up his liquor cabinet and pouring himself a glass, before sitting behind his desk. The hunched man shuffled in and stood on the other side.
“You may call me Seagull. I am the founder and Mayor of Kuvaq. And yourself?”
He removed his hood, revealing a rapidly receding hairline and a thin collection of black hair.
“Hermes. It’s very nice to meet you, and thank you for hospitality.”
“So you’re looking for permanent residence?”
“If possible.”
Seagull swirled the liquid in his glass, looking over the rim.
“What can you offer my town?”
“Hmm?”
He sat the glass down and leant forward.
“Kuvaq is small, resources are limited. I would be more inclined to offer you shelter if I knew how you could contribute to the town in turn. You’re clearly not built for… physical work.”
Hermes shoulders drooped, but he smiled.
“That’s understandable, as Mayor you clearly have your current citizens to worry about. Well…” He put a hand to his chin, “I suppose my previous professions fell under… scientist, engineer, architect, inventor… though I’m not sure if those are something your town needs…”
“An educated man then, that’s good to hear. Would you think your skills could be applied to our Junk Mines? They’re prone to collapses, and often destabilize the entire town.”
“Certainly. Calculating structural stability was vital on a number of things I’ve worked on.”
“Wonderful, then I believe this can be a beneficial relationship.” Seagull stood, extending a hand, “I’ll have my attendant organise a place for you to stay. Welcome to Kuvaq, Mr. Hermes.”
As Hermes reached for the offered hand, his chest began to squirm. Seagull pulled back, watching with confusion. There was an odd noise too-
“My apologies, just one moment please.” He pulled open his cloak, revealing a bundle strapped to his chest, which wriggled and babbled. He spoke softly to it, running a hand though what looked to be red hair. When all was quiet again, he looked a bit sheepish.
“Sorry, would it be too much to ask for enough space for my boys as well?”
Hermes hummed quietly, shaking the lingering dirt from his cloak, before carefully laying it over the three small bodies. The journey had been long for all of them, and any kind of bed looked to be just the remedy.
The building he’d been shown to wasn’t anything extravagant, tucked off to the side of town and built into some collection of upended containers, with scrap plates forming makeshift doors and dividing walls. It wasn’t clean, or furnished past two ‘beds’ and a chair, but after how far they’d come, he was grateful just to have a roof and closable door.
“Hopefully, we can make a life here. I’m sure they’ll be looking for us, but...”
He gazed over the prototype clones, watching as R put a hand into C’s face, who in turn pushed A to get out of reach.
“We should decide our own destinies, don’t you think?”