![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phormthevixdjinn"I don't need a babysitter."
Kayte and Terri exchanged glances. The towering wolf peered down with concern at the diminutive bunny girl as they walked on, each on either side of the mink. Vect kept pace but a few strides ahead of them both, obviously upset by the company.
"I can handle this myself," the mink muttered.
"Who said it was babysitting?" Kayte answered with ease, "Looks to me like we're just having a day out. When was the last time we all did something together, anyhow?"
"Ooooh!" Terri's eyes lit up immediately, her ears bouncing as she darted forward in front of Vect. The bunny turned on her heels to face her friends, walking backward as they continued along the sidewalk. "Maybe when we're done, we can all go get some boba! Or... or maybe ice cream?"
The trio made for an unlikely, and eye-catching, collection as they strolled down the street together. The enormous wolf, bristling with strength and clad in a tank top and tight jeans, was enough to turn heads on her own. The contrast between her and the tiny rabbit made it all the harder for bystanders to not turn and look. Furthering the stark difference, Terri's style was particularly distinct from Kayte's. She was clad in simple cream-colored skirt, matching leggings, and an over-sized, fluffy, pink hoodie sweatshirt emblazoned on the back with the protagonist from her favorite anime series (Extreme Magical Turbogirl).
But despite the way the other two stood out, the one who was really drawing the most attention was Vect.
The mink was worse for wear. She had only been back on her feet half a day, and was still showing visible signs of the beating she had received. The swelling was (practically miraculously) all but gone on her previously blackened eye, but she was still moving slower than usual. Plus, her face still showed where she had been battered, and she was obviously nursing the left side of her rib cage.
Those in the neighborhood knew Vect well enough. She was their local troublemaker, after all. There were few who couldn't recognize her coming down the street from a block away, and fewer still who didn't associate her name with a general definition of 'trouble'. With that in mind, seeing her about town with a visible injury was nothing new. But to see her trod the pavement with a listless, almost defeated gait?
That was unique.
Still, she was moving. She was still here.
The mink let out a stifled, almost dismissive grunt as she shook her head. She raised an incredulous eyebrow toward Terri, "Terri, seriously. With what we're about to do? You really think 'ice cream' is appropriate?"
The rabbit's enthusiasm dwindled visibly as she slipped her paws into the pockets of her hoodie and resumed walking beside Vect.
"Well, gosh, it'd at least be a nice change of pace to be frank. Not everything we do has to be so dire. I mean... the last few days have kinda sucked."
"Sure," Vect croaked, "And the next few days are gonna suck even more if we don't find a way to make rent."
Kayte leaned down cautiously as she walked along with the group, her muzzle coming down to just about the level of Vect's ear.
"I get what you mean, girl, but... Are you sure you're up for this right now?"
The mink gave a detached shrug, "Needs to happen. Nothing for it. If we don't do it now, what happens when we get caught out next time? Plus, unless I've misread the situation, there's a pretty big score here, just waiting for us."
The three slowed their pace, eventually stopping atop the cracked, weathered sidewalk in front of a squat, wide, single-story storefront. The building was flanked on either side by unoccupied, overgrown lots, each of which was barely cordoned off by semi-mangled and deteriorating chain-linked fence. The structure between was itself rather unimpressive from the outside: Plain, straightforward, uncomplicated. It had all the architectural design of a box, longer than it was tall, with beige paint and sparing few storefront windows. In fact, there were but two portals through which to view inside - both on either side of the swinging glass door that seemed to be the store's only entrance or exit. Though the light outside made seeing through the reflective glass challenging given the dim interior, an astute eye could peer within. There, one could catch a glimpse of the store's contents: A multitude of bookshelves unfurling deep inside.
Above the entrance was a minimalist sign, which clearly announced the name of the store in bold, block-text lettering.
BRICKYARD BOOKWORKS
"Vect, look," Kayte put a hand on the mink's shoulder tentatively, "I know this is, uh... 'business'. And I know you've always sort of had a little friction with her, but Victoria's a wonderful girl. Maybe just try to ta-"
"Yeah, yeah, okay." Vect made a dismissive gesture with her hand, brushing away the wolf's touch. "Don't go getting soft on me, miss behemoth."
As Vect opened the door to the sound of jangling bells, Kayte frowned and put her hand on her hip. She turned to Terri, and gestured toward Vect with her other paw.
"I've always been soft on her!"
The interior of Brickyard Bookworks was less than efficient.
In fact, the layout of the bookstore was such that any modern retail manager - proficient in the arts of customer flow and optimal foot traffic - would have had a nervous breakdown on the spot. Rows upon rows of books stretched out in every direction, without heed for ease of access or anything like 'the shortest route' between any two locations in the store. The shelves conspired to abut each other at strange angles, crafting pathways to odd (and often unlabeled) locations within the store. Potted plants hung from the ceiling amid the stacks, comfortable chairs interrupted the display tables, and more often than not any given corridor of tomes and periodicals gave way to a small, circular dead end adorned with a small table and multiple bean-bag chairs.
The store had an exceptionally lived-in feeling. Rather than the clinical light and efficient access one might expect from any franchise chain, Brickyard Bookworks was instead obtuse and intentionally difficult. The store was in no way prepared to guide you where you thought you wanted to be. Instead, there was a kind of tired, knowing chaos hanging in the air. It was as if an aura of purposeful and cryptic obfuscation radiated from every surface, and at every turn. And yet, it permeated the atmosphere in a somehow friendly and welcoming way. Roaming the store felt less like shopping, and more like getting lost in the expansive, neglected library of an eccentric great-aunt for hours on end when you were just trying to find the pantry (and despite this, you still somehow wind up with cookies).
"Golly, I love this place," Terri beamed as she clung to Kayte's arm, marveling wide-eyed at the endless rows of books. For all the pleasantly disheveled decor and the perplexingly unconventional floor plan that Brickyard put front and center, there was still an unquestionable respect on display for their pride and joy: The books themselves. Spines stood tall and proud, immaculate books from every genre and era within easy reach - even if they weren't necessarily organized according to the most accessible system. Nevertheless, one was never at a loss in the Bookworks. While it was nearly impossible to know where the specific book you desired was resting, somehow that was scarcely a concern. The books in front of you, regardless of the path you took, were always enough.
Vect, though, seemed very sparingly interested in books. She turned to face both Terri and Kayte, "Stay focused, both of you. Terri?"
Vect pointed at the door behind them, and gave the bunny a knowing look. For her part, Terri looked up at Kayte with uneasy eyes. After a brief pause of contemplation, Kayte gave a quiet, affirming nod.
Terri swallowed nervously. She flicked the latch on the inside of the door to lock it, and then flipped the store's "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED".
Vect turned on her heels and stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets, moving between bookshelf corridors with a silent glide. Both Kayte and Terri moved swiftly and silently along with her as the mink found her way deeper into the Bookworks, and then took a sharp turn to the left.
A yawning passage stretched out before them, open floor surrounded by shelves on either side. The space between stacks started narrow, but widened as one traveled further back. The trio moved with intention further in, into brighter lighting and past more spacious displays - Ones with books on tables rather than bookshelves, yet still plenty of places to sit and rest. For all the confusion of the store stretching in every direction, this path boasted clarity.
There, at the back of the room, completely out of view from the entrance and windows, was the store's counter. An impressively solid display case, boasting minimalist (but rich) dark oak and glass. Within, one could see the rarest examples of the items on display. It was an eclectic mix, boasting tattered, enigmatic, ancient tomes, tightly sealed first edition table top game rule books, and long lost imported comics (including exceptionally rare, single-run imported manga from the 70s). Atop the case stood two cash registers, a conventional computerized point-of-sale system on the left side, and a dusty, entirely mechanical, push-button relic of a device on the right.
Behind the case sat a lone opossum girl.
A diminutive creature, she couldn't have been any taller than Terri. In fact, she was likely slightly shorter, and further, more slight than the rabbit. She was dressed in a manner that could only be described as unassuming. A white knit sweater, along with a long, plain, corduroy skirt that reached to her ankles. The shoes she wore were functional above all else, simplistic, brown, intact. The blended into her leggings in the most unassuming manner possible. Long, heavy, straight hair laid atop her head and against her back. Her tresses were immaculate, not a single wild strand sticking out of place, but at the same time, neither did they carry any volume. Her hair was parted down the exact middle of her scalp, with equal quantities hanging on either side, framing her face. Atop her long, pointed snout rested a thick, round-lensed pair of glasses - Glasses with lenses so thick that Vect surmised the girl could start a fire by merely stepping outside, and looking up toward the sun.
Around her neck the opossum wore a minimalist, silver necklace. One that hung low across her flat chest.
As Vect approached with Terri and Kayte in tow, the girl behind the counter very slowly looked up from her copy of The Beast In The Jungle. She slowly, and very deliberately, closed the book and slid it onto the counter before her without making a sound.
"Victoria!" Vect belted out with a gregarious smile, hands flying from her pockets as she threw her arms wide. "How's everyone's favorite archivist doin'?"
"Oh," Victoria's voice was low, heavy, and smooth. But at the same time, featureless.
"It's you."
Vect wasted no time in sauntering to the counter and leaning against the glass with both elbows. She flashed a wide, glinting grin as she did so, leaning down to meet Victoria's eye level.
"I was wondering," Each of the opossum's words each came at exactly the same rate and tone, uniform on the air, "when someone from Transgressions would show up. But I certainly didn't think all three of you lot would show up at once. I'm quite thoroughly shocked."
Vect kept her smile bright and beaming as she looked across the counter at Victoria. The opossum's face was placid as a still pond, not a ripple on the surface. Vect's eyebrow twitched a bit.
"Yeah, it's all over your face, girl."
"Hi Victoria!" Terri waved her hand high in the air as she bounded up to the mink's side.
"Good to see you." Kayte gave a wide smile and a two-finger salute to the archivist.
"Terri," Victoria flatly intoned while shifting her vision toward the rabbit. "Kayte," she continued as she turned her neck upward at a measured pace to meet the greeting of the wolf. "And of course, Vect," her eyes faced forward at the obviously pained smile on the mink's face.
"I can honestly say it's a delight to see you all he-"
[THUNK]
The sound of metal on glass echoed through the bookstore, ricocheting off shelves in every direction.
Victoria slowly turned her eyes down to the top surface of the display case, her gaze slowly drawn to the point where Vect had hastily slammed down her machine pistol.
After several seconds of seemingly endless silence, the opossum replied at exactly the same rate and tone as she had greeted the trio.
"Oh."
Terri fidgeted unconsciously, biting her lower lip in concern. Kayte heaved a massive sigh as she crossed her arms. The mink, for her part, narrowed her eyes pointedly, before tapping her finger on the firearm.
"Look, Victoria, I kn-"
"Wait," Victoria interrupted. Her words more like the incoming tide than a roaring truck. Slow, obvious, and inevitable. "Before that, since it is rare that I have all three of you here at once, I have something for each of you."
Vect blinked twice in confusion. "Victoria, is now real-"
Victoria didn't wait for Vect to continue. She looked toward the massive wolf that towered above her, "Kayte."
Kayte unfolded her arms slowly, looking down with a mixture of trepidation and fascination. "Uh..."
Victoria leaned down behind the counter, ducking out of view momentarily, and returning upright after a measured pause. When she reappeared, she had a small stack of two books and a stapled pile of photocopies. She slid these onto the display case before her, and lifted each in turn.
"We finally got that copy of The Art Of French Cooking for you, plus Ten Thousand Years To Doomsday." She pushed the hardcover books in Kayte's direction, "Oh. And I also managed to grab a copy of that zine on rooftop gardening that you asked for."
Kayte's face was immediately glowing with delight. She put a massive paw atop the stack, before picking up the photocopied sheets and flipping through, "Whoa! I was SURE this zine was practically extinct at this point! Holy crap, thank you, Victoria! You're the absolute best, you know that?"
"You speak truth."
"Okay," Vect muttered through gritted teeth. "Fine, b-"
"Terri," Victoria interrupted without interjecting, no sharp edge or pointed tip to her words. She once again ducked behind the counter, unhurried, and emerged with a small stack of paperback books. "Your order for the three trade paperback issues of Pretty Pretty Powerslide, one copy of the Satin Slayer Squad omnibus, and a repair and maintenance manual for the 1976 Pontiac Trans Am."
Terri bounced to the counter with a tremendous smile on her face. Giddy and overjoyed, she examined the books with overwhelming exuberance "The manual!!! Goodness me, this is so wonderful! Thank you ever so much, Victoria. I super appreciate this!"
"That last one was," Victoria paused momentarily, half-lidded eyes looking straight on at Terri, "hard to find."
[Tck Tck Tck!]
The mink stabbed an impatient finger at the machine pistol on the counter, making an audible sound as the firearm rocked against the glass. Her eyes were wide, her jaw set.
"Don't worry," Victoria's voice stretched toward Vect without variance or excitement. "I haven't forgotten you, Vect."
"I should fuckin' hope no-" Vect's ears shot up on end as she noticed the opossum lowering herself behind the display case once again. The mink's eyes flared wide with sudden urgency, "No. Wait. Wait a minute!"
Victoria rose once again with another book between her fingers. She placed the book flat against the glass with her hand palm-down across the cover, obscuring the title.
"No, no, NO. Vicky don't you do this to me. Vicky I SWEAR!" Vect was visibly agitated, looking back and forth between Kayte and Terri, and then desperately back to Victoria. There was genuine pleading in her eyes.
"And for the intrepid leader of the group," Victoria's face was undisturbed. Her tone as level as a still lake.
"Not in front of th--!!"
"One copy of Crochet Hooray: A Beginner's Guide To Getting Hooked On Textiles."
The opossum removed her palm from the cover, revealing a brightly colored illustration of yarn, scarves, and clothing beneath the gigantic, bold-text title.
Kayte let out a bellow of a laugh, nearly keeling over, "WHAT!!"
Terri's wide eyed smile of disbelief was immediately followed by fitful, uncontrollable giggling, "Oh my GOD???"
Vect shrank into herself, collapsing inward as she put her head on the counter, then covered herself with both arms.
"I hear it's one of the better introductory texts on the topic." Victoria stated flatly.
Despite the utter lack of inflection, Vect was utterly convinced of the monumental grin in Victoria's voice.
"Crochet?" Kayte's laughter intertwined with her question, "You want to learn crochet?"
"YES!" Vect croaked out from under herself, voice muffled as she did so.
"Miss 'Kick-Your-Ass, Drink-You-Under-The-Table, Tough-As-Nails' wants t-"
"I WANT TO MAKE SOMETHING, OKAY?" Vect's face jolted up from under her arms, shooting a piercing, irritated look directly at Kayte. "You share your cooking with everyone, Terri shares her art, and what do I do? Huh? Sit around and look nasty? Swear? Make people hate me?" The mink deflated slowly once again, voice melting to a mumble, "I want to make things I can share with people."
"Aw, come on, Vect. You know I'm just giving you a hard time." Kaye smiled down to Vect with genuine warmth in her eyes, and then flashed a wider grin. "After all, you wouldn't want me going soft on you, right?"
"Ahhhh ha ha ha," Vect muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Okay, fine, FINE, you got me, alright?" The mink threw her arms up in exasperation, "You all got me."
Vect's consternation was interrupted when she felt a warm, soft embrace taking her by surprise from the side. Looking down, she met the eyes of a smiling rabbit. Terri gave her a squeeze, and rested her head against the mink's shoulders.
"Well I think it's great," The bunny girl said mirthfully. "You deserve to do fun stuff once in a while, you know? You're the hardest working person at Transgressions. You get to have interests beyond... you know... dealing with the horrors."
Vect sighed as she lowered her arms, wrapping Terri in a soft, wordless embrace.
"I apologize for doing that to you," Victoria stated from behind half-lidded eyes and a placid face. "I found it incredibly humorous, and wasn't able to restrain myself."
A beat of silence filled the air.
"I have issues with self-control."
Kayte tilted her head slightly in confusion. "Uh..."
"Anyhow. I know you lot didn't come here to inquire as to the status of your pending orders. So let me see what I can do for you."
Terri released Vect gently, and slipped slightly off to the side. Vect, in turn, heaved another sigh while leaning back against the glass display case. "Now, before you get too deep into this, I just... I mean... I can explain."
Victoria very deliberately turned her gaze to the counter. She reached down to pick up the machine pistol that Vect had clattered onto the glass just moments before. The opossum lifted the firearm with an obvious, intentional, deliberate thoughtfulness. Holding the weapon flat in her palm, she lowered her head to view the gun from multiple angles. She lifted the pistol to the light, rotating it in her hands, viewing it down the sights, scrutinizing the barrel from every safe angle she could.
At no point did she ever grasp the weapon by its handle.
"You've been firing this at close range again. Point blank I'd say."
Vect put fingers to her temples and let out a hefty sigh, "Yes."
"I told you to stop doing that. You know that causes significant damage."
"I know, I know." Vect muttered under her breath.
This was exactly what Vect had been dreading all along. While she was pretty damned talented when it came to using firearms, Vect wasn't particularly one for maintenance. Her lack of upkeep meant that her guns often needed repair. Or worse, replacement.
And she knew she was going to get an earful today because of that.
Victoria continue to turn the machine pistol over in her hands, feeling the metal and polymer frame with expert fingers as she spoke flatly, "So what happened?"
"I wound up in a desperate situation. Fired off about half a magazine with the muzzle basically stuck right against some asshole's chin."
Kayte folded her arms across her chest as she took a deep breath. "She had a run-in with our good friend, Remmington."
Victoria stopped dead, eyes flicking toward Kayte, and then to Vect, without ever moving her head. She set the gun down on the glass very delicately.
"Jesus Christ."
"Look," Vect said, running her hands down her face in exasperation, "can you fix it or not?"
Victoria looked back to the weapon on the counter, once again lifting it before turning it thoughtfully and carefully. "Well. We'll need to take it into the shop to be certain. Would that be acceptable to you?" Vect made an affirmative gesture with a grunt, which was met with a sidelong placid stare from Victoria.
With a rigid, minimal push, the opossum slid out of her chair and stood up onto her feet. She walked rigidly to the other end of the counter, before pausing and turning her head to look back at the visiting trio.
"For the sake of being cautious, I have to abide by protocol. Could one of you please close the store before we begin?"
Vect made another dismissive gesture as she leaned off of the counter to stand at full height, "Already taken care of."
"I see," Victoria turned her head to face the antique mechanical cash register. "I suppose you can prepare for some things, at least."
"For fu-" Vect caught herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're really busting my balls today, Vicky."
"I gather that someone has to keep your ego in check."
Victoria deliberately, but rapidly, punched a single finger down onto the keys in a specific order. Each key reported with a heavy, audible clack, the sequence punctuated as the archivist reached toward a handle on the side of the register and pulled it down to the sound of a resounding DING!
A total of $2806.69 sprang upward on the mechanical display, accompanied by the sound of grinding, whirring motors springing to life. The previously quiet bookstore was suddenly inundated by the shuddering roar of a motor beneath the carpet. The ground began to rumble beneath their feet.
The glass display counter lurched forward, and then began to roll smoothly toward the customer side of the bookstore. As it lumbered forward slowly, Vect, Terri, and Kayte all stood aside to give way. They watched as the shuddering, moving case gave way to reveal a passage hidden beneath, uncovering a previously concealed stairway diving down into the depths below the shop.
Without saying a word, Victoria moved to the head of the stairs and began to descend.
Vect was close behind, stopping only to turn to Kayte for a moment. "Let's go. I figure we might need some extra hands down here."
"Uh..!" Terri interrupted, an uncertain expression on her face. "I... I think I'll... I..."
Kayte leaned down to plant a kiss between the bunny's ears. "You don't have to, don't worry. Just wait here, we'll be back soon, promise."
Vect paused briefly as she flowed down the stairs, stopping as only her head remained above ground level. "Keep an eye open, okay, Terri? You see any pigs headed for the store, fucking belt something out."
Terri nodded her head slowly. The girl began to wring her hands anxiously as she watched Vect vanish below the floor, followed shortly by the massive, hulking wolf.
The bunny quietly picked up the first volume of Pretty Pretty Powerslide, and plopped into a nearby beanbag chair.
The passage, long and narrow, yawned down beneath Brickyard Bookworks in inky darkness. Concrete walls and sloped ceiling stretched into the earth further than Vect's vision would allow her to see. She was only able to keep her balance by following close behind Victoria, whose automatic motions belied just how often she had made this trip in the past. The opossum moved with a kind of self-sure confidence that read less as bluster and more as fact. It was always uncomfortable to Vect.
She was used to the other kind of confidence. The kind that felt larger, but also, less stable.
Eventually, Victoria reached the end of the descent. With reflexive paw, she flicked a switch on the wall, bathing the hidden basement in sudden, almost piercing light.
"Kayte," Victoria intoned flatly, "please be sure to watch your head."
Both the mink and the wolf emerged from the stairwell behind Victoria, with Kayte doing her best to cope with the low clearance.
The buried room unfurled before them, a chamber of concrete, metal, and workbenches. The ceiling was indeed low - perhaps only two inches higher than Kayte. But in spite of that, the room was surprisingly wide. Pegboard lined the walls on every side, with various hanging implements readily available and meticulously organized. Kayte marveled for a moment at the sheer number of different tools on the wall - At least, until she took a look at the rest of the room, which was absolutely packed with...
"Holy FUCK," The wolf blurted out.
Guns.
Guns of every shape, size, and variety were on display, hanging from carefully placed hooks all over the walls. Handguns, shotguns, rifles, machine pistols. Green colored workbenches at the edges of the room were crowded with ammunition containers, each bristling with nearly overflowing quantities of bullets. Military surplus crates were stacked neatly in one corner, beside a tripod mounted sniper rifle on the floor.
Some of the workbenches beneath each pegboard were adorned with disassembled firearms - weapons with their innards removed, laid in precise and deliberate order atop those work surfaces.
At the back of the room, in the middle of the floor, there stretched a massive, wide worktable. The green expanse was kept spotlessly clear, with a well-worn office chair positioned behind it. Victoria walked with a measured pace to the far side of the work surface, before carefully placing Vect's broken weapon down, and sliding into the chair. As she opened the top drawer under the worktable, she reached within and began to extract her necessary tools.
"Feel free to look around. I trust you'll know how to respect your surroundings."
Kayte stood in shocked silence at the foot of the stairs, hand to her head as she took in the full depth of the room around her. Vect slid up beside the wolf, hands in her pockets, as she surveyed the room along with her.
"Hell of a collection, yeah?" The mink marveled.
"Collection? Christ, this is an armory."
"Yeah, well... Now you know where we get `em." Vect's voice dropped to a low whisper as she leaned toward Kayte, "And before you ask where SHE gets 'em... Don't." The wolf nodded slowly in quiet acknowledgment, eyes still wide as she looked across the expanse of deadly implements neatly organized across every inch of the room.
"Actually," Victoria spoke without looking up, nose down as she began to diligently pull apart Vect's gun, "Kayte. Since you are here, perhaps you could take a look at something I recently found. I think I may have found a solution to the issue you've had with trigger guards."
Without looking up the opossum pointed toward one of the sturdy, wooden supply crates sitting in the far corner of the room. "Try that box. The one nearest you."
Kayte's ears stood up as she hesitantly moved toward the side of the room Victoria had gestured toward. "Geeze, I don't know Victoria. I've tried a lot on for size, but nothing really feels... uh... functional or safe?"
One of the unspoken understandings among the members of Transgressions was that, like it or not, firearms were a part of their lives. Whether the gun was in their hands, or being pointed directly at them, eventually they knew that they'd have to deal with such a weapon. Most girls preferred to gain their familiarity firsthand with a piece of their own - a fact that caused considerable consternation for both the local police and the Apex Alliance.
Kayte, though, never was able to find a firearm she could handle with any degree of confidence. This was not for trying - She had attempted to train with, and use, a wide variety of guns safely. Unfortunately, this had never worked in her favor.
Kayte was, simply put, too huge.
Every manner of handgun, rifle, or otherwise she had ever attempted to wield was simply too small for her to handle appropriately. In most cases, her finger was far too large to reasonably rest on the trigger with any degree of control. In others, the weapon was simply too small and fragile for her to handle with grace. The wolf had long since given up any attempt to find anything that would work for her, and honestly, she was pretty comfortable with that. Her raw physical presence was often enough for her to hold her own in a fight - even if firearms did outclass her ability to smash a fool into the pavement.
With a yank, Kayte easily pried the lid from the wooden crate and began digging through the packing material.
"Holy shit!"
Kayte plunged her paws into the crate, lifting out a massive, long-barreled monstrosity of a gun. In fact, it was less a gun and more a proclamation of disastrous intention, metal and menace through and through.
"A bit of a classic. Admittedly it is quite old, but it has been well maintained," Victoria commented matter-of-factly as she worked. "Light machine gun, Bren, model L4A6. I've subjected it to a significant amount of modification. At present it accepts standard magazines. However, with a little additional work I hope to make it modular, so as to accept the belt-fed rounds, akin to the X11 model."
Kayte held the gun in her hands gently, almost out of instinct. Every other weapon - no, nearly every other THING - she had held in her grasp always felt as if it were ready to snap in two. Particularly while working in the bar and handling glassware, she was always afraid that she might cause some manner of unintentional, irreparable damage. Sometimes, Kayte felt as if everything were made of balsa wood and tissue paper.
But not this.
This was a rigid, sturdy thing. A horrible, awful thing, but nothing that would fracture if she squeezed it. She held the weapon across both hands, raised it to her eye level, then rested it on her hip.
"Victoria, this is incredible."
"Well, hell, Vicky," Vect interjected, "I think you might've done it."
"It's been on my mind. Though I'll note that it wasn't exactly easy to come by. The Bren hasn't been common since the year 1990." At this point, the opossum halted her work, sitting back in her chair.
Before her, the guts of the firearm had been stripped apart, segregated into tidy piles, and scrutinized thoroughly. She worked quickly.
"Well?" Vect leaned back over the table, looking at the pieces of her previously trusty sidearm. "Can you fix it?"
Victoria looked up plainly, making eye contact with the mink.
"No." The answer was sudden and blunt, both in tone and in message. "Repairing it at this point would require more in parts, labor, and time than the entire gun is worth. It would be a waste."
"FUCK," Vect swore, pointedly. The word echoed off the walls harshly. Somewhere upstairs, Terri jumped.
"I warned you about relying on the TEC-9, Vect. It may be cheap and easy to come by, but the only exceptional aspect of the device is its failure rate. To be honest, you never should have been using this in any situation, let alone one with any urgency. You should be counting yourself lucky that it failed in such a way that you're still alive." Victoria's half-lidded, heavy gaze continued to lock with Vect's eyes directly. "There was a scenario where this gun wouldn't have even fired the half a magazine you managed to extract from it. It is hardly a gun you should be staking your life on."
"Yeah, well, Vicky, I'm not exactly flush with options at the moment."
"I could certainly see to it that you are equi-"
"Fuck, forget it!" Vect let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, money's tight right now, okay? If I could replace the damned thing, I wouldn't be asking you to fix it. So just... save the sales pitch for someone else."
Victoria folded her hands in her lap calmly. "I find it serendipitous that you should say that, Vect."
"Oh yeah?" Vect snorted, "Another chance for you to twist the knife today, Vicky?"
"Not particularly."
With a smooth and unbroken motion, Victoria slid open a drawer on the bottom right hand side of the worktable, and lifted something out. With a muted [THUD] she dropped a plain red cloth bag onto the surface.
Her expression was as unbroken as her tone. "This was in the dead drop earlier this week. It seems your benefactor hasn't forgotten about you."
The mink was suddenly silent. Her expression one of utter shock as she looked to the sack, and then back to Victoria. She stood stunned for several long moments, before tentatively reaching forward to unzip the bag with a careful hand.
Rivulets of crimson silk ribbons spilled out from the top of the bag, pouring forth in a gentle cascade. Vect plunged her hands beneath the fabric, reaching deep within - and pulled out a stack of crisp, fresh $100 bills.
"Oh, shit!" Kayte set the Bren down gently, before rushing over to the workbench. "Is that..."
Vect shot a wide-eyed look at Victoria. "AND YOU DIDN'T SEND THE SIGNAL?" The mink shouted passionately.
"Well," Victoria's voice hadn't changed in the slightest, not in tone, nor in volume. "Given the week you've been having it didn't seem like the safest move. I thought it best to let things cool off for a while before contacting you. Jeopardizing your dead drop, and my business, would be disasterous."
"FUCK," Vect shouted again, only to gradually cool off afterward. "Shit, I guess that's fair."
"How much is in there?" Kayte peered over Vect as the mink rooted around the bag, towering over her to get a glimpse.
"Looks like at least a good few months of ribbons, at least, so that's a goddamn relief." A few moments of silence were only broken by the sound of shuffling silk and paper. "The money's thinner than usual, but still... It should get us through at least three months rent, plus groceries."
Victoria blinked slowly, hands still in her lap as she maintained eye contact with Vect.
The mink glanced to the side, and then paused.
"Well. Two months after we pay Vicky for some new stuff."
"That is quite a wise choice you're making, Vect."
Both Vect and Kayte let out a long, drawn out sigh as they felt an invisible tension melt from their bodies. The wolf hugged her arms around Vect, who in turn leaned back against Kayte softly.
"Thank Christ," Vect mumbled to herself.
"I can make a few recommendations for you, if you wish, Vect." Victoria began clearing the neatly organized piles from the workbench, depositing them in various drawers beneath.
Kayte continued to hug Vect softly as the mink let out another affirmative grunt, "Yeah, yeah. Just... whatever you think might fit me best."
Another momentary pause hung in the air, though this one felt less suffocating, and more cleansing. Kayte breathed a deep, rejuvenating breath while once again regarding the multitude of guns on display.
"Geeze, Victoria," The wolf rumbled. "You sure do like your guns, don't you?"
The speed with which Victoria's head snapped to face Kayte was both sudden and startling.
"No." Her words were spoken with calm, but also, with unsettling force.
"No?" Kayte hesitated for a moment, baffled. "You don't like guns? But... Like, you've got enough shit in here to maintain a small army."
Victoria's placid face was as unmoved as ever, but both Vect and Kayte could feel an intensity behind her eyes that hadn't been there moments before.
"No. I hate guns."
"Throughout the course of history, weapons have been used to inflict misery and harm on any and all people. In the earliest days, these weapons required some measure of commitment, and sacrifice to employ. Harming someone with a blade, a blunt object, or hands alone is an act that not only necessitates considerable exertion, it is an act that requires one to come face to face with their victim, to occupy space and enter a proximity where the agony of their victim is inescapable. Inflicting violence on another is a supreme act of hatred, an intense and loathsome thing that the perpetrator must carry with them afterward regardless of justification or rationalization. Killing someone in this manner, it means that the murderer in question must experience the pain and misery of their victim - even if only a fraction. That represents a terrible, enduring, indelible stain upon the soul. A burden that one can never be absolved of, no matter what penance they attempt to pay. There is a cost to harming another. There is a price for taking a life. And though other weapons enable it, they also make that price high enough that one understands what they are doing when they perpetrate such violence."
"And then guns were invented, and that changed forever."
"Guns allow one to harm, to murder, while removing themselves from the process. Where desperate struggles for life were once unavoidable for the perpetrator, now only the recoil of the weapon remains. Any fool can point a weapon wherever they like, inflict terror, harm, and malice while remaining comfortable and detached. And this can be done in rapid succession with minimal consideration. Murder has become facile, remote, and inexpensive. Killing has become abstract to the one who holds a gun, for where once there was a sacrifice, a cost that had to be paid, now there is only a loud noise after you pull the trigger. This trend has multiplied and grown exponentially, to the point that we now have entire wars being fought in the abstract for some, while it remains a bloody, agonizing reality for others. Conflicts where comfortable men in comfortable chairs order autonomous machines to murder half a world away with the push of a button."
"Death is removed from the wielder of a gun, even when they inflict it on others."
A heavy, stagnant pause choked the air in the concrete room. Vect and Kayte both sat in pointed, astonished silence for what felt like minutes, processing the monotone sermon that had just been delivered with calm fury.
"If that's the way you feel," Kayte softly ventured. "Then why on earth do you have... all this?"
The opossum broke neither her gaze, nor its intensity.
"Because as much as I hate guns..." Victoria intoned as she looked across the room, surveying the firearms on the walls. She slowly stood up, locking eyes with Kayte as she did.
"I hate fascists more."
Kayte and Terri exchanged glances. The towering wolf peered down with concern at the diminutive bunny girl as they walked on, each on either side of the mink. Vect kept pace but a few strides ahead of them both, obviously upset by the company.
"I can handle this myself," the mink muttered.
"Who said it was babysitting?" Kayte answered with ease, "Looks to me like we're just having a day out. When was the last time we all did something together, anyhow?"
"Ooooh!" Terri's eyes lit up immediately, her ears bouncing as she darted forward in front of Vect. The bunny turned on her heels to face her friends, walking backward as they continued along the sidewalk. "Maybe when we're done, we can all go get some boba! Or... or maybe ice cream?"
The trio made for an unlikely, and eye-catching, collection as they strolled down the street together. The enormous wolf, bristling with strength and clad in a tank top and tight jeans, was enough to turn heads on her own. The contrast between her and the tiny rabbit made it all the harder for bystanders to not turn and look. Furthering the stark difference, Terri's style was particularly distinct from Kayte's. She was clad in simple cream-colored skirt, matching leggings, and an over-sized, fluffy, pink hoodie sweatshirt emblazoned on the back with the protagonist from her favorite anime series (Extreme Magical Turbogirl).
But despite the way the other two stood out, the one who was really drawing the most attention was Vect.
The mink was worse for wear. She had only been back on her feet half a day, and was still showing visible signs of the beating she had received. The swelling was (practically miraculously) all but gone on her previously blackened eye, but she was still moving slower than usual. Plus, her face still showed where she had been battered, and she was obviously nursing the left side of her rib cage.
Those in the neighborhood knew Vect well enough. She was their local troublemaker, after all. There were few who couldn't recognize her coming down the street from a block away, and fewer still who didn't associate her name with a general definition of 'trouble'. With that in mind, seeing her about town with a visible injury was nothing new. But to see her trod the pavement with a listless, almost defeated gait?
That was unique.
Still, she was moving. She was still here.
The mink let out a stifled, almost dismissive grunt as she shook her head. She raised an incredulous eyebrow toward Terri, "Terri, seriously. With what we're about to do? You really think 'ice cream' is appropriate?"
The rabbit's enthusiasm dwindled visibly as she slipped her paws into the pockets of her hoodie and resumed walking beside Vect.
"Well, gosh, it'd at least be a nice change of pace to be frank. Not everything we do has to be so dire. I mean... the last few days have kinda sucked."
"Sure," Vect croaked, "And the next few days are gonna suck even more if we don't find a way to make rent."
Kayte leaned down cautiously as she walked along with the group, her muzzle coming down to just about the level of Vect's ear.
"I get what you mean, girl, but... Are you sure you're up for this right now?"
The mink gave a detached shrug, "Needs to happen. Nothing for it. If we don't do it now, what happens when we get caught out next time? Plus, unless I've misread the situation, there's a pretty big score here, just waiting for us."
The three slowed their pace, eventually stopping atop the cracked, weathered sidewalk in front of a squat, wide, single-story storefront. The building was flanked on either side by unoccupied, overgrown lots, each of which was barely cordoned off by semi-mangled and deteriorating chain-linked fence. The structure between was itself rather unimpressive from the outside: Plain, straightforward, uncomplicated. It had all the architectural design of a box, longer than it was tall, with beige paint and sparing few storefront windows. In fact, there were but two portals through which to view inside - both on either side of the swinging glass door that seemed to be the store's only entrance or exit. Though the light outside made seeing through the reflective glass challenging given the dim interior, an astute eye could peer within. There, one could catch a glimpse of the store's contents: A multitude of bookshelves unfurling deep inside.
Above the entrance was a minimalist sign, which clearly announced the name of the store in bold, block-text lettering.
BRICKYARD BOOKWORKS
"Vect, look," Kayte put a hand on the mink's shoulder tentatively, "I know this is, uh... 'business'. And I know you've always sort of had a little friction with her, but Victoria's a wonderful girl. Maybe just try to ta-"
"Yeah, yeah, okay." Vect made a dismissive gesture with her hand, brushing away the wolf's touch. "Don't go getting soft on me, miss behemoth."
As Vect opened the door to the sound of jangling bells, Kayte frowned and put her hand on her hip. She turned to Terri, and gestured toward Vect with her other paw.
"I've always been soft on her!"
The interior of Brickyard Bookworks was less than efficient.
In fact, the layout of the bookstore was such that any modern retail manager - proficient in the arts of customer flow and optimal foot traffic - would have had a nervous breakdown on the spot. Rows upon rows of books stretched out in every direction, without heed for ease of access or anything like 'the shortest route' between any two locations in the store. The shelves conspired to abut each other at strange angles, crafting pathways to odd (and often unlabeled) locations within the store. Potted plants hung from the ceiling amid the stacks, comfortable chairs interrupted the display tables, and more often than not any given corridor of tomes and periodicals gave way to a small, circular dead end adorned with a small table and multiple bean-bag chairs.
The store had an exceptionally lived-in feeling. Rather than the clinical light and efficient access one might expect from any franchise chain, Brickyard Bookworks was instead obtuse and intentionally difficult. The store was in no way prepared to guide you where you thought you wanted to be. Instead, there was a kind of tired, knowing chaos hanging in the air. It was as if an aura of purposeful and cryptic obfuscation radiated from every surface, and at every turn. And yet, it permeated the atmosphere in a somehow friendly and welcoming way. Roaming the store felt less like shopping, and more like getting lost in the expansive, neglected library of an eccentric great-aunt for hours on end when you were just trying to find the pantry (and despite this, you still somehow wind up with cookies).
"Golly, I love this place," Terri beamed as she clung to Kayte's arm, marveling wide-eyed at the endless rows of books. For all the pleasantly disheveled decor and the perplexingly unconventional floor plan that Brickyard put front and center, there was still an unquestionable respect on display for their pride and joy: The books themselves. Spines stood tall and proud, immaculate books from every genre and era within easy reach - even if they weren't necessarily organized according to the most accessible system. Nevertheless, one was never at a loss in the Bookworks. While it was nearly impossible to know where the specific book you desired was resting, somehow that was scarcely a concern. The books in front of you, regardless of the path you took, were always enough.
Vect, though, seemed very sparingly interested in books. She turned to face both Terri and Kayte, "Stay focused, both of you. Terri?"
Vect pointed at the door behind them, and gave the bunny a knowing look. For her part, Terri looked up at Kayte with uneasy eyes. After a brief pause of contemplation, Kayte gave a quiet, affirming nod.
Terri swallowed nervously. She flicked the latch on the inside of the door to lock it, and then flipped the store's "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED".
Vect turned on her heels and stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets, moving between bookshelf corridors with a silent glide. Both Kayte and Terri moved swiftly and silently along with her as the mink found her way deeper into the Bookworks, and then took a sharp turn to the left.
A yawning passage stretched out before them, open floor surrounded by shelves on either side. The space between stacks started narrow, but widened as one traveled further back. The trio moved with intention further in, into brighter lighting and past more spacious displays - Ones with books on tables rather than bookshelves, yet still plenty of places to sit and rest. For all the confusion of the store stretching in every direction, this path boasted clarity.
There, at the back of the room, completely out of view from the entrance and windows, was the store's counter. An impressively solid display case, boasting minimalist (but rich) dark oak and glass. Within, one could see the rarest examples of the items on display. It was an eclectic mix, boasting tattered, enigmatic, ancient tomes, tightly sealed first edition table top game rule books, and long lost imported comics (including exceptionally rare, single-run imported manga from the 70s). Atop the case stood two cash registers, a conventional computerized point-of-sale system on the left side, and a dusty, entirely mechanical, push-button relic of a device on the right.
Behind the case sat a lone opossum girl.
A diminutive creature, she couldn't have been any taller than Terri. In fact, she was likely slightly shorter, and further, more slight than the rabbit. She was dressed in a manner that could only be described as unassuming. A white knit sweater, along with a long, plain, corduroy skirt that reached to her ankles. The shoes she wore were functional above all else, simplistic, brown, intact. The blended into her leggings in the most unassuming manner possible. Long, heavy, straight hair laid atop her head and against her back. Her tresses were immaculate, not a single wild strand sticking out of place, but at the same time, neither did they carry any volume. Her hair was parted down the exact middle of her scalp, with equal quantities hanging on either side, framing her face. Atop her long, pointed snout rested a thick, round-lensed pair of glasses - Glasses with lenses so thick that Vect surmised the girl could start a fire by merely stepping outside, and looking up toward the sun.
Around her neck the opossum wore a minimalist, silver necklace. One that hung low across her flat chest.
As Vect approached with Terri and Kayte in tow, the girl behind the counter very slowly looked up from her copy of The Beast In The Jungle. She slowly, and very deliberately, closed the book and slid it onto the counter before her without making a sound.
"Victoria!" Vect belted out with a gregarious smile, hands flying from her pockets as she threw her arms wide. "How's everyone's favorite archivist doin'?"
"Oh," Victoria's voice was low, heavy, and smooth. But at the same time, featureless.
"It's you."
Vect wasted no time in sauntering to the counter and leaning against the glass with both elbows. She flashed a wide, glinting grin as she did so, leaning down to meet Victoria's eye level.
"I was wondering," Each of the opossum's words each came at exactly the same rate and tone, uniform on the air, "when someone from Transgressions would show up. But I certainly didn't think all three of you lot would show up at once. I'm quite thoroughly shocked."
Vect kept her smile bright and beaming as she looked across the counter at Victoria. The opossum's face was placid as a still pond, not a ripple on the surface. Vect's eyebrow twitched a bit.
"Yeah, it's all over your face, girl."
"Hi Victoria!" Terri waved her hand high in the air as she bounded up to the mink's side.
"Good to see you." Kayte gave a wide smile and a two-finger salute to the archivist.
"Terri," Victoria flatly intoned while shifting her vision toward the rabbit. "Kayte," she continued as she turned her neck upward at a measured pace to meet the greeting of the wolf. "And of course, Vect," her eyes faced forward at the obviously pained smile on the mink's face.
"I can honestly say it's a delight to see you all he-"
[THUNK]
The sound of metal on glass echoed through the bookstore, ricocheting off shelves in every direction.
Victoria slowly turned her eyes down to the top surface of the display case, her gaze slowly drawn to the point where Vect had hastily slammed down her machine pistol.
After several seconds of seemingly endless silence, the opossum replied at exactly the same rate and tone as she had greeted the trio.
"Oh."
Terri fidgeted unconsciously, biting her lower lip in concern. Kayte heaved a massive sigh as she crossed her arms. The mink, for her part, narrowed her eyes pointedly, before tapping her finger on the firearm.
"Look, Victoria, I kn-"
"Wait," Victoria interrupted. Her words more like the incoming tide than a roaring truck. Slow, obvious, and inevitable. "Before that, since it is rare that I have all three of you here at once, I have something for each of you."
Vect blinked twice in confusion. "Victoria, is now real-"
Victoria didn't wait for Vect to continue. She looked toward the massive wolf that towered above her, "Kayte."
Kayte unfolded her arms slowly, looking down with a mixture of trepidation and fascination. "Uh..."
Victoria leaned down behind the counter, ducking out of view momentarily, and returning upright after a measured pause. When she reappeared, she had a small stack of two books and a stapled pile of photocopies. She slid these onto the display case before her, and lifted each in turn.
"We finally got that copy of The Art Of French Cooking for you, plus Ten Thousand Years To Doomsday." She pushed the hardcover books in Kayte's direction, "Oh. And I also managed to grab a copy of that zine on rooftop gardening that you asked for."
Kayte's face was immediately glowing with delight. She put a massive paw atop the stack, before picking up the photocopied sheets and flipping through, "Whoa! I was SURE this zine was practically extinct at this point! Holy crap, thank you, Victoria! You're the absolute best, you know that?"
"You speak truth."
"Okay," Vect muttered through gritted teeth. "Fine, b-"
"Terri," Victoria interrupted without interjecting, no sharp edge or pointed tip to her words. She once again ducked behind the counter, unhurried, and emerged with a small stack of paperback books. "Your order for the three trade paperback issues of Pretty Pretty Powerslide, one copy of the Satin Slayer Squad omnibus, and a repair and maintenance manual for the 1976 Pontiac Trans Am."
Terri bounced to the counter with a tremendous smile on her face. Giddy and overjoyed, she examined the books with overwhelming exuberance "The manual!!! Goodness me, this is so wonderful! Thank you ever so much, Victoria. I super appreciate this!"
"That last one was," Victoria paused momentarily, half-lidded eyes looking straight on at Terri, "hard to find."
[Tck Tck Tck!]
The mink stabbed an impatient finger at the machine pistol on the counter, making an audible sound as the firearm rocked against the glass. Her eyes were wide, her jaw set.
"Don't worry," Victoria's voice stretched toward Vect without variance or excitement. "I haven't forgotten you, Vect."
"I should fuckin' hope no-" Vect's ears shot up on end as she noticed the opossum lowering herself behind the display case once again. The mink's eyes flared wide with sudden urgency, "No. Wait. Wait a minute!"
Victoria rose once again with another book between her fingers. She placed the book flat against the glass with her hand palm-down across the cover, obscuring the title.
"No, no, NO. Vicky don't you do this to me. Vicky I SWEAR!" Vect was visibly agitated, looking back and forth between Kayte and Terri, and then desperately back to Victoria. There was genuine pleading in her eyes.
"And for the intrepid leader of the group," Victoria's face was undisturbed. Her tone as level as a still lake.
"Not in front of th--!!"
"One copy of Crochet Hooray: A Beginner's Guide To Getting Hooked On Textiles."
The opossum removed her palm from the cover, revealing a brightly colored illustration of yarn, scarves, and clothing beneath the gigantic, bold-text title.
Kayte let out a bellow of a laugh, nearly keeling over, "WHAT!!"
Terri's wide eyed smile of disbelief was immediately followed by fitful, uncontrollable giggling, "Oh my GOD???"
Vect shrank into herself, collapsing inward as she put her head on the counter, then covered herself with both arms.
"I hear it's one of the better introductory texts on the topic." Victoria stated flatly.
Despite the utter lack of inflection, Vect was utterly convinced of the monumental grin in Victoria's voice.
"Crochet?" Kayte's laughter intertwined with her question, "You want to learn crochet?"
"YES!" Vect croaked out from under herself, voice muffled as she did so.
"Miss 'Kick-Your-Ass, Drink-You-Under-The-Table, Tough-As-Nails' wants t-"
"I WANT TO MAKE SOMETHING, OKAY?" Vect's face jolted up from under her arms, shooting a piercing, irritated look directly at Kayte. "You share your cooking with everyone, Terri shares her art, and what do I do? Huh? Sit around and look nasty? Swear? Make people hate me?" The mink deflated slowly once again, voice melting to a mumble, "I want to make things I can share with people."
"Aw, come on, Vect. You know I'm just giving you a hard time." Kaye smiled down to Vect with genuine warmth in her eyes, and then flashed a wider grin. "After all, you wouldn't want me going soft on you, right?"
"Ahhhh ha ha ha," Vect muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Okay, fine, FINE, you got me, alright?" The mink threw her arms up in exasperation, "You all got me."
Vect's consternation was interrupted when she felt a warm, soft embrace taking her by surprise from the side. Looking down, she met the eyes of a smiling rabbit. Terri gave her a squeeze, and rested her head against the mink's shoulders.
"Well I think it's great," The bunny girl said mirthfully. "You deserve to do fun stuff once in a while, you know? You're the hardest working person at Transgressions. You get to have interests beyond... you know... dealing with the horrors."
Vect sighed as she lowered her arms, wrapping Terri in a soft, wordless embrace.
"I apologize for doing that to you," Victoria stated from behind half-lidded eyes and a placid face. "I found it incredibly humorous, and wasn't able to restrain myself."
A beat of silence filled the air.
"I have issues with self-control."
Kayte tilted her head slightly in confusion. "Uh..."
"Anyhow. I know you lot didn't come here to inquire as to the status of your pending orders. So let me see what I can do for you."
Terri released Vect gently, and slipped slightly off to the side. Vect, in turn, heaved another sigh while leaning back against the glass display case. "Now, before you get too deep into this, I just... I mean... I can explain."
Victoria very deliberately turned her gaze to the counter. She reached down to pick up the machine pistol that Vect had clattered onto the glass just moments before. The opossum lifted the firearm with an obvious, intentional, deliberate thoughtfulness. Holding the weapon flat in her palm, she lowered her head to view the gun from multiple angles. She lifted the pistol to the light, rotating it in her hands, viewing it down the sights, scrutinizing the barrel from every safe angle she could.
At no point did she ever grasp the weapon by its handle.
"You've been firing this at close range again. Point blank I'd say."
Vect put fingers to her temples and let out a hefty sigh, "Yes."
"I told you to stop doing that. You know that causes significant damage."
"I know, I know." Vect muttered under her breath.
This was exactly what Vect had been dreading all along. While she was pretty damned talented when it came to using firearms, Vect wasn't particularly one for maintenance. Her lack of upkeep meant that her guns often needed repair. Or worse, replacement.
And she knew she was going to get an earful today because of that.
Victoria continue to turn the machine pistol over in her hands, feeling the metal and polymer frame with expert fingers as she spoke flatly, "So what happened?"
"I wound up in a desperate situation. Fired off about half a magazine with the muzzle basically stuck right against some asshole's chin."
Kayte folded her arms across her chest as she took a deep breath. "She had a run-in with our good friend, Remmington."
Victoria stopped dead, eyes flicking toward Kayte, and then to Vect, without ever moving her head. She set the gun down on the glass very delicately.
"Jesus Christ."
"Look," Vect said, running her hands down her face in exasperation, "can you fix it or not?"
Victoria looked back to the weapon on the counter, once again lifting it before turning it thoughtfully and carefully. "Well. We'll need to take it into the shop to be certain. Would that be acceptable to you?" Vect made an affirmative gesture with a grunt, which was met with a sidelong placid stare from Victoria.
With a rigid, minimal push, the opossum slid out of her chair and stood up onto her feet. She walked rigidly to the other end of the counter, before pausing and turning her head to look back at the visiting trio.
"For the sake of being cautious, I have to abide by protocol. Could one of you please close the store before we begin?"
Vect made another dismissive gesture as she leaned off of the counter to stand at full height, "Already taken care of."
"I see," Victoria turned her head to face the antique mechanical cash register. "I suppose you can prepare for some things, at least."
"For fu-" Vect caught herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're really busting my balls today, Vicky."
"I gather that someone has to keep your ego in check."
Victoria deliberately, but rapidly, punched a single finger down onto the keys in a specific order. Each key reported with a heavy, audible clack, the sequence punctuated as the archivist reached toward a handle on the side of the register and pulled it down to the sound of a resounding DING!
A total of $2806.69 sprang upward on the mechanical display, accompanied by the sound of grinding, whirring motors springing to life. The previously quiet bookstore was suddenly inundated by the shuddering roar of a motor beneath the carpet. The ground began to rumble beneath their feet.
The glass display counter lurched forward, and then began to roll smoothly toward the customer side of the bookstore. As it lumbered forward slowly, Vect, Terri, and Kayte all stood aside to give way. They watched as the shuddering, moving case gave way to reveal a passage hidden beneath, uncovering a previously concealed stairway diving down into the depths below the shop.
Without saying a word, Victoria moved to the head of the stairs and began to descend.
Vect was close behind, stopping only to turn to Kayte for a moment. "Let's go. I figure we might need some extra hands down here."
"Uh..!" Terri interrupted, an uncertain expression on her face. "I... I think I'll... I..."
Kayte leaned down to plant a kiss between the bunny's ears. "You don't have to, don't worry. Just wait here, we'll be back soon, promise."
Vect paused briefly as she flowed down the stairs, stopping as only her head remained above ground level. "Keep an eye open, okay, Terri? You see any pigs headed for the store, fucking belt something out."
Terri nodded her head slowly. The girl began to wring her hands anxiously as she watched Vect vanish below the floor, followed shortly by the massive, hulking wolf.
The bunny quietly picked up the first volume of Pretty Pretty Powerslide, and plopped into a nearby beanbag chair.
The passage, long and narrow, yawned down beneath Brickyard Bookworks in inky darkness. Concrete walls and sloped ceiling stretched into the earth further than Vect's vision would allow her to see. She was only able to keep her balance by following close behind Victoria, whose automatic motions belied just how often she had made this trip in the past. The opossum moved with a kind of self-sure confidence that read less as bluster and more as fact. It was always uncomfortable to Vect.
She was used to the other kind of confidence. The kind that felt larger, but also, less stable.
Eventually, Victoria reached the end of the descent. With reflexive paw, she flicked a switch on the wall, bathing the hidden basement in sudden, almost piercing light.
"Kayte," Victoria intoned flatly, "please be sure to watch your head."
Both the mink and the wolf emerged from the stairwell behind Victoria, with Kayte doing her best to cope with the low clearance.
The buried room unfurled before them, a chamber of concrete, metal, and workbenches. The ceiling was indeed low - perhaps only two inches higher than Kayte. But in spite of that, the room was surprisingly wide. Pegboard lined the walls on every side, with various hanging implements readily available and meticulously organized. Kayte marveled for a moment at the sheer number of different tools on the wall - At least, until she took a look at the rest of the room, which was absolutely packed with...
"Holy FUCK," The wolf blurted out.
Guns.
Guns of every shape, size, and variety were on display, hanging from carefully placed hooks all over the walls. Handguns, shotguns, rifles, machine pistols. Green colored workbenches at the edges of the room were crowded with ammunition containers, each bristling with nearly overflowing quantities of bullets. Military surplus crates were stacked neatly in one corner, beside a tripod mounted sniper rifle on the floor.
Some of the workbenches beneath each pegboard were adorned with disassembled firearms - weapons with their innards removed, laid in precise and deliberate order atop those work surfaces.
At the back of the room, in the middle of the floor, there stretched a massive, wide worktable. The green expanse was kept spotlessly clear, with a well-worn office chair positioned behind it. Victoria walked with a measured pace to the far side of the work surface, before carefully placing Vect's broken weapon down, and sliding into the chair. As she opened the top drawer under the worktable, she reached within and began to extract her necessary tools.
"Feel free to look around. I trust you'll know how to respect your surroundings."
Kayte stood in shocked silence at the foot of the stairs, hand to her head as she took in the full depth of the room around her. Vect slid up beside the wolf, hands in her pockets, as she surveyed the room along with her.
"Hell of a collection, yeah?" The mink marveled.
"Collection? Christ, this is an armory."
"Yeah, well... Now you know where we get `em." Vect's voice dropped to a low whisper as she leaned toward Kayte, "And before you ask where SHE gets 'em... Don't." The wolf nodded slowly in quiet acknowledgment, eyes still wide as she looked across the expanse of deadly implements neatly organized across every inch of the room.
"Actually," Victoria spoke without looking up, nose down as she began to diligently pull apart Vect's gun, "Kayte. Since you are here, perhaps you could take a look at something I recently found. I think I may have found a solution to the issue you've had with trigger guards."
Without looking up the opossum pointed toward one of the sturdy, wooden supply crates sitting in the far corner of the room. "Try that box. The one nearest you."
Kayte's ears stood up as she hesitantly moved toward the side of the room Victoria had gestured toward. "Geeze, I don't know Victoria. I've tried a lot on for size, but nothing really feels... uh... functional or safe?"
One of the unspoken understandings among the members of Transgressions was that, like it or not, firearms were a part of their lives. Whether the gun was in their hands, or being pointed directly at them, eventually they knew that they'd have to deal with such a weapon. Most girls preferred to gain their familiarity firsthand with a piece of their own - a fact that caused considerable consternation for both the local police and the Apex Alliance.
Kayte, though, never was able to find a firearm she could handle with any degree of confidence. This was not for trying - She had attempted to train with, and use, a wide variety of guns safely. Unfortunately, this had never worked in her favor.
Kayte was, simply put, too huge.
Every manner of handgun, rifle, or otherwise she had ever attempted to wield was simply too small for her to handle appropriately. In most cases, her finger was far too large to reasonably rest on the trigger with any degree of control. In others, the weapon was simply too small and fragile for her to handle with grace. The wolf had long since given up any attempt to find anything that would work for her, and honestly, she was pretty comfortable with that. Her raw physical presence was often enough for her to hold her own in a fight - even if firearms did outclass her ability to smash a fool into the pavement.
With a yank, Kayte easily pried the lid from the wooden crate and began digging through the packing material.
"Holy shit!"
Kayte plunged her paws into the crate, lifting out a massive, long-barreled monstrosity of a gun. In fact, it was less a gun and more a proclamation of disastrous intention, metal and menace through and through.
"A bit of a classic. Admittedly it is quite old, but it has been well maintained," Victoria commented matter-of-factly as she worked. "Light machine gun, Bren, model L4A6. I've subjected it to a significant amount of modification. At present it accepts standard magazines. However, with a little additional work I hope to make it modular, so as to accept the belt-fed rounds, akin to the X11 model."
Kayte held the gun in her hands gently, almost out of instinct. Every other weapon - no, nearly every other THING - she had held in her grasp always felt as if it were ready to snap in two. Particularly while working in the bar and handling glassware, she was always afraid that she might cause some manner of unintentional, irreparable damage. Sometimes, Kayte felt as if everything were made of balsa wood and tissue paper.
But not this.
This was a rigid, sturdy thing. A horrible, awful thing, but nothing that would fracture if she squeezed it. She held the weapon across both hands, raised it to her eye level, then rested it on her hip.
"Victoria, this is incredible."
"Well, hell, Vicky," Vect interjected, "I think you might've done it."
"It's been on my mind. Though I'll note that it wasn't exactly easy to come by. The Bren hasn't been common since the year 1990." At this point, the opossum halted her work, sitting back in her chair.
Before her, the guts of the firearm had been stripped apart, segregated into tidy piles, and scrutinized thoroughly. She worked quickly.
"Well?" Vect leaned back over the table, looking at the pieces of her previously trusty sidearm. "Can you fix it?"
Victoria looked up plainly, making eye contact with the mink.
"No." The answer was sudden and blunt, both in tone and in message. "Repairing it at this point would require more in parts, labor, and time than the entire gun is worth. It would be a waste."
"FUCK," Vect swore, pointedly. The word echoed off the walls harshly. Somewhere upstairs, Terri jumped.
"I warned you about relying on the TEC-9, Vect. It may be cheap and easy to come by, but the only exceptional aspect of the device is its failure rate. To be honest, you never should have been using this in any situation, let alone one with any urgency. You should be counting yourself lucky that it failed in such a way that you're still alive." Victoria's half-lidded, heavy gaze continued to lock with Vect's eyes directly. "There was a scenario where this gun wouldn't have even fired the half a magazine you managed to extract from it. It is hardly a gun you should be staking your life on."
"Yeah, well, Vicky, I'm not exactly flush with options at the moment."
"I could certainly see to it that you are equi-"
"Fuck, forget it!" Vect let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, money's tight right now, okay? If I could replace the damned thing, I wouldn't be asking you to fix it. So just... save the sales pitch for someone else."
Victoria folded her hands in her lap calmly. "I find it serendipitous that you should say that, Vect."
"Oh yeah?" Vect snorted, "Another chance for you to twist the knife today, Vicky?"
"Not particularly."
With a smooth and unbroken motion, Victoria slid open a drawer on the bottom right hand side of the worktable, and lifted something out. With a muted [THUD] she dropped a plain red cloth bag onto the surface.
Her expression was as unbroken as her tone. "This was in the dead drop earlier this week. It seems your benefactor hasn't forgotten about you."
The mink was suddenly silent. Her expression one of utter shock as she looked to the sack, and then back to Victoria. She stood stunned for several long moments, before tentatively reaching forward to unzip the bag with a careful hand.
Rivulets of crimson silk ribbons spilled out from the top of the bag, pouring forth in a gentle cascade. Vect plunged her hands beneath the fabric, reaching deep within - and pulled out a stack of crisp, fresh $100 bills.
"Oh, shit!" Kayte set the Bren down gently, before rushing over to the workbench. "Is that..."
Vect shot a wide-eyed look at Victoria. "AND YOU DIDN'T SEND THE SIGNAL?" The mink shouted passionately.
"Well," Victoria's voice hadn't changed in the slightest, not in tone, nor in volume. "Given the week you've been having it didn't seem like the safest move. I thought it best to let things cool off for a while before contacting you. Jeopardizing your dead drop, and my business, would be disasterous."
"FUCK," Vect shouted again, only to gradually cool off afterward. "Shit, I guess that's fair."
"How much is in there?" Kayte peered over Vect as the mink rooted around the bag, towering over her to get a glimpse.
"Looks like at least a good few months of ribbons, at least, so that's a goddamn relief." A few moments of silence were only broken by the sound of shuffling silk and paper. "The money's thinner than usual, but still... It should get us through at least three months rent, plus groceries."
Victoria blinked slowly, hands still in her lap as she maintained eye contact with Vect.
The mink glanced to the side, and then paused.
"Well. Two months after we pay Vicky for some new stuff."
"That is quite a wise choice you're making, Vect."
Both Vect and Kayte let out a long, drawn out sigh as they felt an invisible tension melt from their bodies. The wolf hugged her arms around Vect, who in turn leaned back against Kayte softly.
"Thank Christ," Vect mumbled to herself.
"I can make a few recommendations for you, if you wish, Vect." Victoria began clearing the neatly organized piles from the workbench, depositing them in various drawers beneath.
Kayte continued to hug Vect softly as the mink let out another affirmative grunt, "Yeah, yeah. Just... whatever you think might fit me best."
Another momentary pause hung in the air, though this one felt less suffocating, and more cleansing. Kayte breathed a deep, rejuvenating breath while once again regarding the multitude of guns on display.
"Geeze, Victoria," The wolf rumbled. "You sure do like your guns, don't you?"
The speed with which Victoria's head snapped to face Kayte was both sudden and startling.
"No." Her words were spoken with calm, but also, with unsettling force.
"No?" Kayte hesitated for a moment, baffled. "You don't like guns? But... Like, you've got enough shit in here to maintain a small army."
Victoria's placid face was as unmoved as ever, but both Vect and Kayte could feel an intensity behind her eyes that hadn't been there moments before.
"No. I hate guns."
"Throughout the course of history, weapons have been used to inflict misery and harm on any and all people. In the earliest days, these weapons required some measure of commitment, and sacrifice to employ. Harming someone with a blade, a blunt object, or hands alone is an act that not only necessitates considerable exertion, it is an act that requires one to come face to face with their victim, to occupy space and enter a proximity where the agony of their victim is inescapable. Inflicting violence on another is a supreme act of hatred, an intense and loathsome thing that the perpetrator must carry with them afterward regardless of justification or rationalization. Killing someone in this manner, it means that the murderer in question must experience the pain and misery of their victim - even if only a fraction. That represents a terrible, enduring, indelible stain upon the soul. A burden that one can never be absolved of, no matter what penance they attempt to pay. There is a cost to harming another. There is a price for taking a life. And though other weapons enable it, they also make that price high enough that one understands what they are doing when they perpetrate such violence."
"And then guns were invented, and that changed forever."
"Guns allow one to harm, to murder, while removing themselves from the process. Where desperate struggles for life were once unavoidable for the perpetrator, now only the recoil of the weapon remains. Any fool can point a weapon wherever they like, inflict terror, harm, and malice while remaining comfortable and detached. And this can be done in rapid succession with minimal consideration. Murder has become facile, remote, and inexpensive. Killing has become abstract to the one who holds a gun, for where once there was a sacrifice, a cost that had to be paid, now there is only a loud noise after you pull the trigger. This trend has multiplied and grown exponentially, to the point that we now have entire wars being fought in the abstract for some, while it remains a bloody, agonizing reality for others. Conflicts where comfortable men in comfortable chairs order autonomous machines to murder half a world away with the push of a button."
"Death is removed from the wielder of a gun, even when they inflict it on others."
A heavy, stagnant pause choked the air in the concrete room. Vect and Kayte both sat in pointed, astonished silence for what felt like minutes, processing the monotone sermon that had just been delivered with calm fury.
"If that's the way you feel," Kayte softly ventured. "Then why on earth do you have... all this?"
The opossum broke neither her gaze, nor its intensity.
"Because as much as I hate guns..." Victoria intoned as she looked across the room, surveying the firearms on the walls. She slowly stood up, locking eyes with Kayte as she did.
"I hate fascists more."
no subject
Date: 2025-05-29 02:38 am (UTC)I fear this entry might be doing too much, too quickly, and as a result it didn't turn out great. But nevertheless, I really, really wanted to introduce Victoria and her operation to the story, as well as show all of these characters interacting together. Even if it is just a tiny bit of interaction.
Bit off more than I could chew, but hopefully it's still at least an enjoyable read.
Thanks for sticking with me.