WilliamDArand
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Overclocked -ch29-
🕑 Added 2022-10-27 02:10:56 +0000 UTCWaving a hand over his head, Wrench exited the cafeteria and then left the pens.
Crossing the small open space to the ducts, he opened the door.
“Wrench, do you uh… have a minute?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Seventh was following him.
“Course. Gotta do some early morning checks though. I wasn’t here for any of the work yesterday. Need to catch up and make sure things are square. I’m sure Gadget and Swifty managed it well but… still gotta check,” Wrench said, and then bobbed his head at the door. “If you’re alright with tagging along with me, then here we go.”
“Sure! Not a problem. I’ve always kinda been curious about the ducts. Never been in them, and the Fixers at my Hab—uh, old Hab, were very guarded about it,” Seventh agreed and went in through the door Wrench held open for her.
“A lot of Fixers are like that. Same reason Adminis get touchy if you try to get into their own stuff,” Wrench explained and moved in behind Seventh. He closed the door behind them. “Imagine if a Fixer or Admini tried to get into Brawler stuff. You probably wouldn’t be keen to share.”
“Er, no. No I wouldn’t. That’s a good point,” Seventh muttered, then laughed. “Up until I got my ass kicked by a Fixer and got studded by him.”
“Yes, fun was had by all. Ass kicking, then getting hilt deep in said ass. Lotta fun,” Wrench quipped. He’d need to check each and every room, then go up to the skybridge and make sure everything up there was fine. Grae could get curious about things that were supposed to be latched down too, according to the instruction manuals.
“Fun, huh?” asked Seventh.
“I mean, I had fun. Can’t speak for you,” countered Wrench. “Not every day you get to stud a beautiful seventh generation pure-bred Brawler.”
“Given you spend your evenings with Dusky, I find that hard to believe,” growled Seventh, watching him as he went to a monitor in the Security room. “As pretty as Lovely was if you ask me.”
Wrench was rapidly flicking through everything on the screen. Most of what he needed to check he could do from here, unless he needed more in-depth information. Then he’d have to check the monitors in that section.
After this it’d just be cursory checks into the room as he’d planned.
“Dusky and I have an agreement, sure. She and her School are here because she offered to trade herself over as my woman. The other School-Hume probably think one of their number each is also my woman, now that I think about it,” Wrench observed. “That’d explain Duchess and Sparkle, I guess. Whatever. Not really an issue.
“Anyways, yeah, none of that has anything to do with me enjoying what happened between us, Seventh. Even if it wasn’t something either of us planned for or wanted, I enjoyed it.
“Alright, done with this one. Time to move to the next system.”
Wrench waved a hand at Seventh, who was staring at him with an odd expression. He couldn’t honestly describe it or identify it.
“Alright. I get it. Makes sense,” Seventh confirmed. “But that’s not really what I wanted to talk about either. I wanted to talk about why I’m here. There’s no need for me to be here in this Hab.
“I’m not here for breeding a next generation Brawler, otherwise I’d uh… you’d have come to my pen last night. Turning me into a broodmare after all doesn’t seem to be your goal, based on what you said.
“Not here to be your woman either, it seems, you’ve got those already. Betting their breeding is just as expensive as my own, just in different ways. Can’t really say I’m a better-quality Hume than them. Not to mention they’re really damn pretty. I’m only just kinda like… okay looking comparatively. Wasn’t bred for my looks.”
Wrench couldn’t argue that point.
The simple reality was that every woman in his Hab, other than Gadget and Freckles, was better looking than Seventh. They were all bred to be so.
That was just the truth of their existence.
“I’m not a Fixer, or an Admini. Goodie doesn’t seem like the type to pit her Brawlers against others just for some off-betting like other Tongsta,” continued Seventh. “That kinda eliminates anything… anything for me to be here for. I don’t have— there’s… what do I do?”
Wrench and Seventh entered the loading bay and paused.
There were a number of large boxes wrapped up that filled the entirety of the room.
From one side, to the other.
Goodie had once again over-loaded them.
“Shit,” Wrench huffed. Then laughed and waved a hand at it. “Spooky, Gadget, and Swifty can deal with that shit. I did it last time. This is ridiculous.”
Seventh grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him to face her.
“You’re not breeding me, fucking me, or using me as a Brawler, so what the fucking hell am I here for Wrench?” demanded Seventh. Her eyes were wide and she was staring into his face now. There was a panicked aura coming off her features.
Her skin was terribly pale, she was blinking far more than she probably should, and it honestly looked like she wasn’t really even seeing him.
Staring at him, certainly, but also, looking right through him.
“Uh, what you’re here for? You’re here cause I wanted to save you. Remember? I said that,” Wrench offered lamely. “That’s… that’s it. I just wanted to save you, Seventh. To greedily have you in my Hab.
“I thought you were impressive. Amazing, even. That’s… that’s it. That’s all I wanted. Just to have you here in my Hab.”
Seventh’s mouth slackened and her free hand came up to gently rub two fingers against an eyebrow. Even as her head shook minutely, she sighed.
“I just… I don’t get it. It doesn’t make sense,” she whispered defensively. “I’m just… you… you’re not using me for anything. So why am I here? You gave Lovely up for me. She was incredible to look at, and worthwhile from a breeding standpoint. Having me here and doing nothing is… it’s… I don’t know.”
Laughing, Wrench patted her arm, then gently pried it off his shoulder.
“How about… trying to live your life, Seventh. That’s the whole extent of it when you’re in this Hab. So you can live your life to the best of your ability,” Wrench informed her. “You’re not here for me to bed, to breed, or to use. You’re here just because I wanted to save you. You’ll have to live with that, since it’s done now.
“I traded away Lovely for you, as you said. I don’t regret it, and I feel it was worthwhile. It’s done. It’s done and this is your home now and that’s all there is to it. Now. I have to finish up here and then head up the skybridge. Do you want to come with me?”
Seventh hadn’t looked back to him. Her gaze was off and to the side.
After a few seconds, her eyes flicked back up to him.
“I’ll go talk with the others,” she said and gave him a lopsided smile. “I guess I should-I should figure out… what to do with myself. Find a hobby or just— I dunno. Something. Live my life. Like you said.”
Her eyes crinkled at the edges and she looked at him now. Really looked at him, as if she were inspecting him.
“You really didn’t just bring me here to breed me or make me your woman?” inquired the Brawler.
“Really Seventh. I saved you, to save you, to have you in my Hab. No strings attached,” confirmed Wrench.
Her eyes moved slowly back and forth across his face as he spoke. Watching him intently as he delivered every word.
When he finished, she took in a short breath, nodded her head, then smiled at him again.
“Okay. Then… then thank you for saving me, Wrench-Head. Thank you. I’m going to go explore a bit and see what I can figure out,” murmured Seventh. She patted him on the arm, then left him there. Heading back out down the hallway toward the door.
“Great. Tell Gadget and Swifty they should go to the loading bay if you see them. Spooky should probably help them,” Wrench called after her.
Unwillingly, his eyes traveled down her muscular back and settled on her very toned rear end in the pants she was wearing.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll do that,” Seventh called back, her head tilting to one side.
Clicking his tongue, Wrench was glad he’d spent the night with Dusky last night. Otherwise, he’d have been too tempted to ask Seventh to be his woman after all.
But that’s not what I want.
I want a relationship.
Not just… sex.
Keeping that thought firmly in mind, Wrench went back to his tasks.
There was work to do to keep his Hab functioning perfectly for everyone.
He was no leader, no shepherd of people, no glorious personality to inspire everyone to work for him.
All he could do was keep everything running and hit things when they didn’t.
Or people.
He could hit people, too.
It took an hour to finish his tasks in the ducts. Long enough that he felt hungry and stopped to get an oat-bar. As he got it though, he remembered the Grae and got a second one as well.
He’d already confirmed that the Aerial-Hab was functioning correctly. That the Grae had their own food dispensers, as well as water, and they were all working within expected parameters.
I did promise to bring her one though.
Err… would I even recognize her if she showed up though? They all look the same to me.
I know that sounds awful, but they do.
The idle thought skipped through his head as he opened the door to the exit of the skybridge that’d put him into the Aerial-Hab. Exiting it, he stood there for several seconds.
There were no Grae nearby, no concerns, and nothing out of the ordinary.
The maintenance panel was closed, and everything looked to be perfectly fine.
“Huh. Guess it was just a trip to build up my own leg muscles then,” Wrench remarked with a chuckle.
Turning, he paused.
Sitting on the wall was the bottle of water he’d shared with the Grae.
It was half-empty, and the cap was set down next to it.
Which meant the Grae had taken it, gone to the water dispensary, filled it, and came back with it. Drank some of it here, then left.
Pausing, Wrench looked around for a moment.
Then on instinct, he looked up.
Above him was a Grae.
Watching him curiously, their head tilted to one side. They had one clawed hand out like they were contemplating dropping on him and taking what was in his hand.
“Oh, there you are,” he said and grinned at her. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he couldn’t help but admire the odd, yet exotic, look of a naked Grae. “I brought you an oat-bar as promised. Here you g—”
The Grae dropped down from above and took the half-eaten oat-bar out of his hand at the same time. She landed on her feet and then stood up. Lifting it to her mouth, she took a generous bite out of it and watched him.
“I mean… uh… I brought you one. For you. Eh… whatever,” muttered Wrench. “Not like I haven’t shared food before.”
Moving the untouched oat-bar to his other hand, he cracked it in half, then held out the other half to the Grae.
She presented him with the flat grimace he was interpreting as her version of a smile, and began making chittering clicking noises at him. It vaguely reminded him of a creature he’d seen once that’d been called a squirrel.
“Oh, you must like those quite a bit. You seem quite pleased about it,” murmured Wrench. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the water-bottle with its cap on.
Now the Grae let loose with a repeated honking noise that realistically could only be a laugh.
A Grae was laughing at the fact that he pulled out a water bottle out of his pocket. The situation was a bit surreal to him at the moment.
Taking another bite of her oat-bar, the Grae was continuously giving him her version of a smile. Her eyes were wide and rounded, which felt like it paired with the grimace she was giving him.
She moved over to the bottle on the wall and picked it up, only to offer it to him in a clawed hand.
“You really seem intent on sharing with me,” Wrench lamented and then took the bottle, giving her the brand new one in exchange. “Maybe it’s some sort of tribal thing. Grae recognize one of their own like this sort of thing?
“That’d make sense, I guess. Almost like a form of imprinting in a way. To be fair… I’d probably want to be friendly with the person who made sure my Hab was working. Randomly bringing me food and water, while seemingly making buildings simply appear.
“No different than me trying to butter Goodie up, really. No different at all.”
Wrench took a sip from the bottle.
It had a slightly odd metallic taste to it, but nothing that felt wrong. Just a mineral-like flavor to it that he didn’t expect.
Squawking, making a few soft clicks, and then gesturing at the Aerial-Hab, the Grae was telling him about something. Chewing loudly all at the same time as she did so.
She would only pause to drink from the water bottle.
Finally she finished and then looked to him in an expectant way.
Much like how many Admini would do after they’d described an issue to him.
“Errr, want me to help you with something?” Wrench tried, then gestured at the Aerial-Hab. “Something in there?”
The Grae blinked at him several times while eating. She’d finished up the first half and was now working on the second.
Letting out a soft whistle followed by a clucking noise, then several chirps, she traded the water bottle in his hand for the one in hers. Immediately taking a drink out of it.
“Well, I’ll take a look at the read-out and see if there’s anything off,” Wrench offered. “Whatever you were trying to tell me… maybe I can find it on the screens. See what I can do for you.
“Especially given how friendly you’ve been. It’s rather interesting, honestly. Having a conversation with someone who doesn’t understand a word I’m saying, but clearly has her own language.
“Does that make us allies? Working to survive together in the Hab?”
Finishing the second oat-bar half, the Grae took a long drink, watching him. Her red eyes locked on him as she contemplated what was likely just noises to her.
His language was most assuredly as lost on her, as hers was on him.
Unexpectedly, the Grae made an odd gesture with her chin followed by a curling of her lips. Her teeth flashed, then she stuck her chest out and shook her shoulders.
It drew the eye to her chest, which Wrench guiltily stared at as she made the move. Only for his eyes to bounce back up to her face when he realized what he’d done.
He had no idea what she was doing, but the movements were deliberate.
Almost like waving a hand, signaling your shoe was untied, or that you were hungry. Some type of gesture that he couldn’t comprehend.
Once more the Grae let out her honking laughter as well as the Grae smile. Her eyes wide and gazing at him the whole while.
Lifting her hand, the Grae pointed to her stomach and patted it several times. Her clawed fingers brushing over the spot where she’d been wounded.
Then she laid her empty hand on his shoulder in a very non-Grae like gesture. She squeezed his shoulder and began once again to chatter at him.
Whistles, clicks, hoots, and honks, all. Yet he felt like she was explaining everything that she was to him.
A life story that he was sorely missing out on due to a language barrier.
Smiling, Wrench just stood there. Listening to the alien chitter, on and on, endlessly.
As the situation continued, he did his best to note, register, and remember all the facial expressions, hand gestures, and inflections she put into things.
The way she tossed her head back when she made a particular whistling whine, as if it were a curse. How her shoulders often tensed on a particular set of clicks that felt a lot like a name of a person she despised.
With any luck, one day he could talk to her.
While they were certainly an alien to one another, he could see the same tenacity for life in her face and features. The same feeling of helplessness and anger at what’d been done to them.
Even if all they could do about it was live the best life they could.
After a time, she slowly wound down in her speech. Her head tilting to one side as she finished with a “ha” like sound that had a clear question to it.
“I don’t know what you said, but I wish I did,” Wrench answered, smiling at her.
Imitating her own gesture, he reached out and put his hand on her shoulder as well. His other hand still held his water bottle, just as hers did.
The Grae gave him her smile in return, looked at him curiously, then cleared her throat.
Letting the hand on his shoulder drop away, she patted her chest several times.
“Tickaht,” she clicked. Patting her chest twice more she provided him with a Grae-smile. Her eyes rounding fully. “Tickaht.”
Letting the hand on her chest drop, she then placed it atop Wrench’s chest, followed by a low hooting question-like noise.
Pretty sure she wants my name.
Smart devil that she is.
“Wrench,” provided Wrench, taking his hand off her shoulder. He patted his own chest atop her hand that remained there. “Wrench.”
Moving his hand forward he put it to the upper part of her torso, as far from her breasts as he could manage.
“Tickaht,” he tried. Making sure to emphasize the clicks in the same way she had. He patted her chest once, spoke what he thought was her name for the second time, then patted his own chest. “Tickaht, Wrench.”
The Grae let out a burble that was close to a honk. Her mouth screwed up in a weird way, then she patted his chest firmly.
“Resh,” she said as her hand touched him several times. “Resh, Tickaht.”
When she’d put her hand on her own chest, she said her name again. The inflection was different than what he remembered it as.
He’d have to work on it.
Because more than likely, I butchered her name, just as much as she butchered mine.
Wrench only nodded his head at that.
“Wrench and Tickaht,” he said, then sighed and threw a thumb at the skybridge behind him. “I have to go get some work done, Tickaht. I’ll stop by tomorrow if I can. Alright?
“I’ll definitely look into your part of the Hab though. You were trying to tell me something about it.”
Tickaht shifted her hips to one side and leaned her head in the opposite direction. Then she blinked and gave him her Grae-smile. She held her hand up in front of herself and opened and closed it several times.
Errr… hand waving? Hand waving for her kind?
Wrench imitated the gesture back to her, then waved his hand in a hume way. He left her standing there, taking the water bottle she’d made him hold back down with him.
“What a curious exchange. Though… illuminating,” Wrench murmured. Then laughed as he began walking down the stairs. “Didn’t hurt that she’s fun to stare at. Shit. I wonder if Dusky is busy.”
Comments
William D. Arand
It's a delicate balance between a character understanding what they want, thinking of it, and then taking action/voicing their desire and need. Too little time, and the character has no growth or depth whatsoever. Where they end up slamming it home in anything available. Which Wrench does, than regrets as he himself admits. It's a partial character flaw. Too much, and they look as if they're not entirely sure or recalcitrant. Or the character isn't truly sure, despite what they may say or think. Just as Wrench did. In this case, Wrench does know, doesn't know, is afraid to act, and afraid to hold still. He isn't a great thinker and does better with 0/1 thinking. He's a Fixer.
Michael Jackson
This is the trap that we see in most tropes, the protagonist knows what he needs but writing about it as if he doesnt know what he needs is apita, everyone reading goes just get on with it we dont need twenty pages of angst teenage hormonal inbalance bad life choices etc before he mans up and agrees he should god forbid talk about his feeling rather than slaming his dick balls deep in every wet dripping snatch available. Well thats my thought, i get turned off ot tune out when it happens till the story comes back to a more even keel, i get he has issues and maybe hes traumatised by events but hes lived one life knowing he needs help with emotions so bite the bullet, i must say the grae part was awesome and if he can start learning using his brain or the implant to find common names etc for things it should be awesome. Close encounters was pretty good with the light and sound show but they could have gone into harmonics wave theory etc when conversing with the aliens, just imagine i high end theory forced out in seconds trying to dumb it down to nothing more than an offshoot of apes lol.
Avoid Shisnos
The problem there is does he even really know how to properly express that that's what he wants
Nick Cartwright
A deal comes off kind of like an arranged marriage to me. Many political/arranged marriages can have love. I feel like Wrench keeps on talking about how he wants more a connection but so far has not done anything to achieve that goal. He keeps complaining about his relationships while not spending anytime on working on his relationships or communicating what he wants with any of the women he has relationships with to this point. I feel like it’s time to put his money where his mouth is and start working on his relationships. Enough talk it’s time for some action Wrenchie my boy.
