gunsforhire | Of Helmets, Bananas, and New Boots

Entry tags:

Of Helmets, Bananas, and New Boots

Who: Delta Ai (Native) and Omega Ai (Native)
What: Discussions of the oddity of the last month, and Sigma's pending birthday.
Where: The Ai family household.
When: The beginning of the month.
Warnings: None other than insults of Yorks.

Delta is a man used to routine. Minute variations are, of course, welcome, but beyond that Delta has always been about the details of life falling into order. Which has been what made this last month so... strange in Delta's opinion. There has been a quiet tension around his older brother lately. More than that. Sigma has offered him a day off from the twins and Theta and Delta just has to smile at his thought of his day alone tomorrow.

With a chuckle he enters the house, puts his helmet on the shelf, and moves to the kitchen. He's got some cleaning to do before he can sit down and give himself half an hour to relax...

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Omega is sitting at the kitchen table, relacing a pair of boots to fit his feet better. "Hey, number three. What's up? Helmet still working?"

Delta pauses just inside of the kitchen door and stares in shock.

"Meg? You're home today? I... wasn't expecting that."

Maybe he can con Omega into helping him some so that he can take his mini-vacation for a bit longer.

Note to self: don't work on his vacation day.

"Got sent home early. Can't do any more work until the floor cures." Omega shrugs. "The project is going to take at least twice as long, after the explosion. I'm not complaining, Ed doesn't have a job lined up for after it yet." Omega had helped blow half the floor off, but Delta didn't need to know that.
Also on the list of things Delta doesn't need to know: by the time this building is finished, Omega plans on having an entirely different line of work.
"Don't look so happy to see me," he adds.

"I'm just worried," Delta admits with a sigh, dropping his bag on the kitchen table and moving to the sink to start dealing with the dishes from breakfast. This morning he had put those off, which meant he gets to handle them now. "Sigma's birthday is coming up and my helmet breaking down took away a whole day of work pretty much."

They try so hard, the two of them, to make sure everyone has a well arranged birthday. Cake and presents and fun. But if Omega isn't getting full pay for today...

"You're worried about what, me in the kitchen? Thanks for the vote of confidence." Omega rolls his eyes. "Don't worry about his birthday. All he wants is a picnic in the park. And shoes. And a jacket. I don't remember if you were supposed to get him the jacket and me the shoes or the other way around."
Omega finds clothes to be terrible birthday presents, but that's what Sigma said he wanted.

"I did that side job, remember? That'Ll help, and the guy gave me a lead on another place that's hiring. Supposed to pay better." Omega shouldn't tell Delta what he's plotting, lest he logic out his end game. But he doesn't want his brother to worry so much. "I won't quit on Ed unless I have something in writing."

"I'll handle the boots," Delta offers. Sigma is closer to Omega in general size, whereas Delta has the same shoe size as Sigma. "I can try them on for him and make sure they fit. Remember?"

Side job? Delta wracks his mind and then nods, remembering the cash that had been given to him.

"You've been with Ed for, what, six months now?" Delta asks, sighing. "Has it ever occurred to you that were you a bit more... long term in your employment you might be promoted to a team foreman or something? The pay would definitely be worth it."

Because making ends meet is important. But... at least he hadn't had to pay for his helmet repairs. The very thought finds Delta's fingers coming up to the place behind his right ear where his implant is. Just thinking about his helmet made him think of the man who paid for it.

York.

Hmmmm.

"So you're going to put responsibility for one of his hideous traffic cone jackets on me? I always suspected you hated me, but this, this just confirms it. Oh, the stab of betrayl!" Omega grabs his chest melodramatically and threatens to fall off his chair.

And then he laughs, and sits up. "Well, I don't want to make any promises, but this new place is offering substantially more."

Omega isn't getting promoted, not without getting a certificate at least. A degree would be better. But Delta doesn't need to know about that. Certification in drywall, for example, takes a week off work, at least, costs a couple hundred dollars. It's not worth fifty cents or so more an hour.

And if he is going to make everyone to sacrifice so he can go to college, it's not going to be for a two year degree in "construction site management."

"Besides, you don't know how these places work. They'd rather fire someone and train a newbie they can pay half as much."

He tilts his head at Delta's fingers. "What are you thinking now, sparkles?"

Delta chuckles as his brother feigns injury, rinsing plates quickly and putting them in the dishwasher. But he's given pause when Delta asks.

Sparkles. A new one. Delta decides he isn't going to complain. It's better than when he was goblin when they were younger. He looks back over his shoulder at his brother.

"I'm thinking about the man I met."

And then he realizes that sounds more... deep than he intends.

"The one that paid for my helmet repairs."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone. You're still thinking about your sugar daddy?" Omega scowls. "You're going to tell me something about him now?"

"He's not my sugar daddy," Delta growls in annoyance, looking at Omega and glaring. "I think York just felt... connected to me. He's blind in one eye and we talked about our... situations."

Delta told a stranger? Delta talked, voluntarily, about his hearing problems? Omega wonders what in the name of all that is good made that happen?

Wait, what was his name? "York? His name was York? Was he in full armor? Does he know where we live? Please tell me he didn't follow you in!"

If that man from before, that person who seemed to think Omega and his siblings were some sort of soldiers, who pretended to have a connection to Delta...

Another reason to take up mercenary work -to be able to protect his family. Omega's suddenly afraid he's going to be doing that in the very near future.

The way his brother freaks out has Delta turning off the sink and turning to look at Omega. Where had this come from?

His previous gesture turns to Delta tucking hair behind his ear as he looks at Omega.

"No, he wasn't in full armor. Tan jacket with a fur ruff. Tan shirt, said something like 'green fairy' on it I think? Scar around his left eye, which was milky white because he was mostly blind in it. He left Smithson's before me and we talked about... adjusting to our disabilities. Why, is there a problem?"

Omega has a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the table, because clothes can be changed but eyes...not so quickly. "The eye. How old was it? More than a few weeks healed?"

Omega shakes his head, does not go find this York and turn him into so much red mist. "Theta and I ran into a guy a few weeks back, scared the grape. Scared me," and that's not an easy admission for Omega to make most days. "Said his name was York. Knew our names, said he was a soldier. Said he was partnered with you. Said he lost you."

But Delta is there, he reminds himself, Delta did not get lost. Must have been some other Delta. Somehow. "Theta called you, you were fine, we beat it. Didn't think much about it until just now."

"He had two good eyes. I would have remembered a bad one."

"Months and months old," Delta says quickly, moving to touch his brother's shoulder. "Hey. I'm okay. Just some other guy. Who was nice. He made me feel... a bit more comfortable than I've been about myself in a while."

With a sigh he sits next to Omega.

But this other 'York' worries him.

Just the same name. It was possible. It happened. And Delta was okay, and nobody weird had mentioned anything like it.

Though Omega had met plenty of weird people lately. He wondered what blondie was up to.

"So his name's York?" Omega asks, with a grin he doesn't really feel. "Do I need to have a conversation with him? Wait, first, is he cute?"

If this York made his little brother happy, well, he automatically gets tagged as the good one. "What did you guys talk about?"

See, look. Delta sitting down. This is a good thing, he tells himself.

"WHAT!?" Delta demands. No. First it was Sigma, now Omega?

"No, shut up. You don't need to have a conversation with him because I'm never going to see him again. He's a random stranger with vision problems who make me feel less bad about my hearing ones," Delta sighs. Why does everyone imply he's after some stranger he spoke with for less than twenty minutes?

"Yes, yes, a random stranger. Completely unimportant in the grand scheme of things, of course." Omega leans forward, grinning. Seeing Delta flustered is always fun. "And you told him what sort of mods were in your helmet? When not even your dear baby brother knows?"

"Meg," Delta chides, frowning at his older brother. "I had a chance to speak to someone else with a disability and feel slightly better with how I cope with what I am. Why must you or Sigma make a big deal out of me talking to a stranger?"

In fact, the only reason Delta had mentioned it was because of thinking about the damage to his helmet.

God. Why can't they be nice?

"Okay, okay," Omega raises his hands in surrender. "I thought you might have made a friend. Forgive me a moment of hope." To Omega, that is a big deal. Delta and Gamma both are too alone for his liking, and Theta leans that way more every day. It can't be healthy to never talk to anyone outside the house. "Did you at least get his number, be able to talk to him some more?"

Anything that makes Delta feel better should be encouraged in Omega's book. With great zeal.

"You're just as bad as Sigma," Delta answers angrily, pushing to his feet. "No. I didn't get his number. He's a stranger I'm never going to meet again in my life. Please stop."

Both of them need to stop.

"My social life is sufficient as it is," Delta sighs.

Omega would disagree, and at great length, but he really should not fight. He should stock up on all the good will he can, before Delta finds out what he's plotting. And if he's going to pick fights today, it should be about over work or calling milkshakes lunch. The logical move here is to drop it. And if Delta's going to be angry, Omega can be logical, right?

Omega leans back in his chair, laces his hands behind his head. "No, it really isn't."

Delta glares and walks to the sink. "He's just someone. It doesn't matter, okay? He's just a stranger and we talked."

And he was cute, but whatever. Cute strangers are still strangers.

Omega watches him walk off. "He's a stranger and you talked. I'd say that matters. When was the last time you talked to someone that wasn't us, or about us, sparkles?"

Here's an idea. Make Delta so mad he doesn't speak to Omega ever again. Then he can't lecture him about going out and blowing up buildings for donuts. And cash. Yeah, that is a great plan, right up there with "borrowing Gamma's laptop" and "napping in the same room as twins and markers."

Delta whirls to look at his older brother, clearly annoyed. "I talk to my professors and co-workers. I talk to people at the stores. I talk a lot to Cassy at the store and Theta's teacher and the ladies that run the daycare the twins are at."

That was enough for him. He had better things to do than talk to strangers.

And Omega will bet that Delta does not talk to any of them an iota more than he has to. An Iota, ha. He'll have to remember that one.

"And to York, apparently."

Delta keeps getting all worked up over York, and Omega's going to think there's something there. Maybe he is cute.

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