Chapter Text
SOMEWHERE IN NEVADA
Your name is Pico Fulp (but you may as well be a Dearest). You are 21 years old and a Generation 06 Nevadean. Your line of work ensures you’ll never go hungry, so you like to indulge yourself in finer luxuries from time to time. You’d wager you’re more well off than truly rich, but that’s neither here nor there.
You are awake early in the morning, a time where there’s nothing to celebrate, no reason to indulge. This is the time when you are at your most empty.
You believe in taking care of yourself, but you don’t believe in trying to stand out and be the greatest man who has ever graced Las Vegas with that Sigma Balls grindset or whatever. You’ve had your time in the spotlight years ago against your will, and though it took you a long while to shake that incident off, you definitely made it out. Now, though, you’re stuck in the shadow of greater people.
Better people.
You almost fall over in the shower, but thankfully you catch yourself before you slip. You have a problem with going on autopilot for your morning routine, and the cold showers have been getting less effective. This is probably not good for your mental state, but you’re not one to think about things. Maybe that’s the problem, maybe you should think about things more often.
And then your mind goes back to the school shooting and your brief time with Blake, and you remember why you try not to think a lot. Still, it’s too late to stop the latter train of thought.
Which one of you ended things again? Were you just overwhelmingly awful to the point where even he could tell you’re bad news, or could you just not stand his rising stardom and broke it off yourself? You know he’s dating that Gwyndolin gal, herself a rising star and a Dearest at that, so no matter what you still have him within arm’s reach. How annoying.
Speaking of, you’ve got a message from one Damien Dearest. In your dark, fog-like thoughts, you have already dried yourself off and put on a fresh set of the same clothes you always wear, a lime green sweater and khakis. It’s become synonymous with your ‘brand’, so to speak, and—
Okay, focus, Pico. You can’t autopilot your way through this one. Time to read.
InfernalFather: “Got a new job for you. Won’t involve Gwyn or Blake. Lmk if interested.”
Hot damn, this is one of the more enticing jobs you’ve been offered! Protecting Gwyn pays well and all, but you’d rather keep your distance from Blake until you can figure out how he feels about you. It’s a complicated issue, made worse by the fact that you would rather not ask him about it.
Dimes4Crimes: “Hit me up.”
Now you don't know it yet but this one conversation would've set your life on a much better track. You'd have found a purpose and a motivation for living, mended your past relationships, and found your significant other.
But that was a different time and place. A time and place that you'd never know because of Damien's next message.
InfernalFather: "Wait scratch that. Just learned that Blake's gonna be there."
Now you being upset about the whole "Thinking about Blake" thing you act on impulse and and reply
Dimes4Crimes: "Not interested."
InfernalFather: "Are you sure? I could pay you extra."
Dimes4Crimes: "Not interested."
InfernalFather: "Fine fine. I'll find someone else to do it. Have a good day"
Dimes4Crimes: "You too"
While you have nothing better to do and you are going to be empty for a lot longer now, it's probably better for you to not confront your problems given you can't even think of them.
You wonder if you shouldn't have cut ties with the only people you could really call friends...
Nah...They were Assholes
Your name is Darnell Tyson. You're 21 years old and a Generation 06 Nevadean. You work as a hit man with your colleague Nene Setsushi and things haven't been going well for you lately. After having a fight with your best member Pico Fulp he's taken most of the well paying jobs in his local area and you've sorta been stealing shit to sustain cash...
You've been reduced to second best. Hell some people even recognize Nene before you, so yeah this has just been your life for a few months at this point.
As for your non-financial situation your bored as Hell and wishing you'd have something to do... At this point you're day dreaming about blowing this damn baren fucking wasteland and watching the fire burn bright, but you know you can't, so you'll just play with your lighter and try to take your mind off things. It's something to do.
Nene walks through the door with some stuff she stole from the corner store. "So... any calls?" She ask clearly annoyed with doing this shit again.
"Nah." You say automatically. You've been through this exact interaction every day since shit went down.
"Ugh! I'm so sick of this shit! Why do I have to rob a corner store every week? It's not like we're poor!" She says in pure frustration. You understand where she's coming from but you're too upset with life to care about her feelings
"Yeah, and I'd like to keep it that way. We're not in a position to spend like crazy. We're getting no jobs, no money, and I'd prefer to pay the rent so that we at least aren't fucking homeless!" She looks pissy. Just as you expected. What you don't expect is a sudden notification from the one and only Damien Dearest.
You haven't been in touch since you fucked up a mission (Which was Pico's fault by the way, but Dearest wouldn't buy it because "Pico's the best merc I've ever seen no way he'd fuck up this badly!" Because he's a biased mother fucker but anyway!) The point is that this might be the opportunity you've both been waiting for.
InfernalFather: "Hey. I've got a job for you two."
2HotShots4Hire: "Yo fr?"
InfernalFather: "Look Pico wouldn't take it and I need this done and done right."
While it sucks that you're his second option by the sounds of it he seems to be desperate and you remember him not being too opposed to spending a few extra bucks if he needs a job done so in other words the best opportunity of your life just smacked you both in the face. Nene looks over your shoulder and you both grin at each other knowing exactly what you're doing today
2HotShots4Hire: "Lay it on me."
InfernalFather: “Everten Gestalt has constructed a tower at the border of Spring Valley and Paradise. Given the logistics we’ve been tracking, we have suspicions about his true intentions, namely that they might compromise our place in the music industry. Your job is to get in there and pilfer any data you can, get as much dirt on him as possible.”
You make note of Everten Gestalt. He's the CEO of the Nexus Core, almost comically large, and a very wealthy man. However from your knowledge the Nexus Core is mainly focused on science you're pretty sure they had a tower for the stuff, so what the Hell would he want with the music industry? but hey, a job is a job.
2HotShots4Hire: "How much you willing to pay?"
InfernalFather: "Will you take $20,000?"
Now time for the bargain. First you think of the price you want...Say doub- no Triple the money. Then you overshoot on purpose.
2HotShots4Hire: "How about $70,000?"
InfernalFather: "Fine. Just don't screw it up."
...Wait what? You thought you'd get into a debate, but sure I guess you got what you wanted and more...Cool
2HotShots4Hire: "It’s a deal, and a bet. We'll be done 'fore you know it."
InfernalFather: "Don't make me regret it."
The moment the deal is done you and Nene are fucking stoked. You high five each other and she's just laughing like a maniac. You get a huge deal of money and a exhilarating job to go on
"Well then. Time to pack." You say knowing exactly how Nene would react.
"Ugh. Do we really have to?" She says with disdain. "I mean, even some rando with decent combat skills would probably only need a shotgun to pull something like this off. Also I don't want to carry your shit!" She says rolling her eyes. You chuckle a bit before your response.
"Yeah, but I've been meaning to test this little project I've been working on for awhile." Her interest peaked. She knows you're always working on something because what else are you going to do with an I.Q of 241, easy access to the scrap yard, and what used to be a surplus of money, but she never typically asks what you're making as she typically doesn't care about it until it's done.
You smirk as you take off the cloth covering it to reveal a humanoid robot with a monitor for a head. Nene looks at it confused for a moment. "Ain't that one of those cheap robots they mass-produced and sold to be servants?" She asks looking at it entirely unimpressed.
"Yeah it was, but I modified it a bit to add weapons, a better material, an override for the laws of robotics, and since it was already made to serve now it does whatever I want it to. Deci. Start packing my weapons." And in a few moments the monitor glowed with a bright sky-blue smile and it said "Right away sir!" In a bright and cheery voice before starting to pack your shit for you.
Nene was obviously impressed and immediately asks "Oh! Can it pack my knives?" You immediately respond with "How many do you need? Like my bad, but ain't two gonna cut it?" (The pun was not intentional.) "But I rarely get to throw them, and they might break, AND you get to bring all your shit, so let me have some fun."
Not feeling in the mood to argue with her you just give in. "Deci. Pack Nene's knives." You say in an annoyed tone. "You can count on me!" It says in the same tone.
After a few minutes of packing supplies You, Nene, and "Deci" (which was the preprogrammed name, but you couldn't be bothered to change it) head out into your Ford Mustang and drive down to the Nexus Tower.
And you're ready to blow shit up.