THE BADLANDS [ON HOLD]
Back To Earth
“The brightest things fade the fastest...” -Back To Earth, Steve Aoki, ft. Fall Out Boy
Mad Gear immediately lets go of me, Gerard quickly grabbing my hip and pulling me into him. "And Dr. D," Gerard adds, sighing slightly.
The Missile Kid lets up on Dr. Death, who quickly scrambles up, brushing sand out of his hair. "Love'll help with your cheek. And please stay in there," Gerard says quietly, keeping his gaze on Mad Gear. "And tell Kobra he had better get his ass out here."
I nod and dash back to Lil' Shit, Dr. Death standing his ground with Gerard. The door flys open just as I approach it, and Mikey, Frank, and Jet jump out, clicking the safety on their guns. Mikey gives me a small, oh-good-you're-still-alive nod but, before I can say anything, Love pulls me into the van, sitting me down on the floor. She sits down in front of me, crossing her legs, as she starts to clean my wound. "Hope you don't have an issue with scars," she says, her eyebrows furrowing together as she works. "'Cause you'll have a nice one when this heals over."
After a few minutes of silence, Missile sits down next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder. She's clutching a small, robot toy, her pale green eyes wide with alert. "So," I start quietly. "Missile."
"Yes?" She asks, looking up at me.
"There's a man out there, the one who had Dr. D," I start. "He said his name was the Missile Kid as well, and I—"
"Jet named me," she starts to explain. "Mad Gear and the Missile Kid are really big out here for their music, and Jet plays guitar. He's really good, too. When he found me, I didn't have a 'Joy name. I was going by my Bat City name— Grace. So, he named me after a musician, and I just... Rolled with it."
"Oh," I say, refraining from nodding. "That's cool."
"Alright, it's clean, but I don't have the stuff to make stitches," Love says, resting her hand on my knee.
"It's fine," I tell her. "Thank you, though."
"It's not an issue," Love says, smiling. "Okay, so, what happened out there?"
"Alright," I start and Missile repositions so that her head is in my lap, her body curled into a ball. "So, the guy with the hat, his name is Truant Punk, and he's been squatting at the safe-house while Dr. D's been in Bat City with us. We were trying to sort out what was going on, then two of Truant's friends— Mad Gear and the Missile Kid— came and attacked us."
"Mad Gear and the Missile Kid?" Jimmy squawks, bolting up in his seat. "That's them out there?" I nod and he adds "So, who's the one kicking Poison's ass?"
"What?" I ask, gently moving Missile out of my lap and going to the front to look out the windshield. Sure enough, Mad Gear has Gerard up against at the truck, with Gerard's own gun situated under his chin. Dr. Death is being held back by the Missile Kid, and Mikey— who seems to be sobbing— is restrained by Truant. Frank is laying on the sand, his gun next to him, and Jet is laying next to him. Jet, however, seems to be conscious, watching the scene before him in horror. "Damn it!" I cry and start to search for my gun.
"Um, sweetie, you're not going out there," Love says, grabbing my arm and digging her fingernails into my flesh. "If they survive, Poison'll ghost me for letting me go out."
"But what if they don't survive?" I protest. "For fuck's sake, Ghoul's already on the ground."
"I'm with Halsey," Jimmy says. "Love, Poison's gonna get ghosted. We need to help him."
Love looks around the cab of the van nervously, brushing her blond hair out of her eyes. "Fine," she sighs finally. "Missile, you stay—"
"No!" Missile cries. "That's my papa out there! I'm not staying here! I want to help!" She sets down her robot and pulls her bag over her head, pulling a small boombox out of the canvas bag. "I want to help." she repeats. With those words, her small stature suddenly seemed to soar towards the clouds, the small girl snapping into Killjoy mode.
"Alright," Jimmy says, impatiently. "Let's go, then."
We quickly escape Lil' Shit and make our way over to the group. "Mad Gear!" Love yells, pulling her gun out of an inside pocket of her pink leather jacket. She looks at me and smirks and, almost as if I can read her mind, I know what she wants me to do.
Mad Gear turns towards us, his red eyes flashing with fury. Before he can make a sharp remark, however, I swing at him, trailing my fingernails down my his face like I did with Robert Bryar so many months ago. Mad Gear cries out in pain and falters for a second, giving Gerard a chance to wrestle out of the injured man's grip.
That's the moment that all hell breaks loose.
The moment that Gerard escapes Mad Gear's grip, Mikey swings him arm around behind him, nailing Truant in the side of his head with his fist. The man yells out and lets go of Mikey on instinct.
Jet jumps up, snapping into fight mode, and grabs one of the Missile Kid's arms, pulling it from off of Dr. Death. The latter pulls out his gun and presses it against the red-haired man's temple, forcing him to the ground. Once Jet is sure that Dr. Death can hold his own, he pulls Mad Gear to the ground as well, sitting on his back and tying his hands together with a piece of cloth.
He quickly ties up Truant and the Missile Kid as well, leaving them on the ground. "You son of a bitch," Mad Gear hisses, spitting pieces of sand out of his mouth.
"Poison, take Halsey into the building," Dr. Death says. "I'll be right behind you with Ghoul."
Gerard nods and grabs my wrist tightly. I can tell that he's pissed, and I know I'm going to get it when we get inside.
We push through the papered door and the both of us stand silent for a second, examining the room before us. It smells like cigarette smoke and warm booze in here; not a particularly welcoming scent. I see white tiled walls, with a row of red tiles around the entire room. The floor is tiled as well, the same white tiles as the wall. Closest to the swinging door on the other side of the room is a Formica-topped bar, with red, vinyl-covered bar stools surrounding it.
"Why the hell did you come back out?" Gerard asks, letting the door slam behind us.
"You were about to die, in case you forgot," I retort. "I thought I would be the least bit helpful and try to not let you get ghosted."
"That's why I wanted you to stay in the van," Gerard argues, his grip on my wrist tightening. "So that you wouldn't get ghosted."
"God, stop treating me like I'm a fucking china doll!" I cry. "Because— news flash!— I'm not! I can hold my own! I know that's what you would want to do for Ashley but you have to understand that Ashley is gone. She's dead, Poison, and she's not coming back, no matter how much you try to protect me! This isn't Battery City or some movie; there's gonna be some dangers out here, and guess why?" Gerard watches me rant, waiting for me to answer my own question. "This isn't a movie. These are the Badlands."
Mad Gear immediately lets go of me, Gerard quickly grabbing my hip and pulling me into him. "And Dr. D," Gerard adds, sighing slightly.
The Missile Kid lets up on Dr. Death, who quickly scrambles up, brushing sand out of his hair. "Love'll help with your cheek. And please stay in there," Gerard says quietly, keeping his gaze on Mad Gear. "And tell Kobra he had better get his ass out here."
I nod and dash back to Lil' Shit, Dr. Death standing his ground with Gerard. The door flys open just as I approach it, and Mikey, Frank, and Jet jump out, clicking the safety on their guns. Mikey gives me a small, oh-good-you're-still-alive nod but, before I can say anything, Love pulls me into the van, sitting me down on the floor. She sits down in front of me, crossing her legs, as she starts to clean my wound. "Hope you don't have an issue with scars," she says, her eyebrows furrowing together as she works. "'Cause you'll have a nice one when this heals over."
After a few minutes of silence, Missile sits down next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder. She's clutching a small, robot toy, her pale green eyes wide with alert. "So," I start quietly. "Missile."
"Yes?" She asks, looking up at me.
"There's a man out there, the one who had Dr. D," I start. "He said his name was the Missile Kid as well, and I—"
"Jet named me," she starts to explain. "Mad Gear and the Missile Kid are really big out here for their music, and Jet plays guitar. He's really good, too. When he found me, I didn't have a 'Joy name. I was going by my Bat City name— Grace. So, he named me after a musician, and I just... Rolled with it."
"Oh," I say, refraining from nodding. "That's cool."
"Alright, it's clean, but I don't have the stuff to make stitches," Love says, resting her hand on my knee.
"It's fine," I tell her. "Thank you, though."
"It's not an issue," Love says, smiling. "Okay, so, what happened out there?"
"Alright," I start and Missile repositions so that her head is in my lap, her body curled into a ball. "So, the guy with the hat, his name is Truant Punk, and he's been squatting at the safe-house while Dr. D's been in Bat City with us. We were trying to sort out what was going on, then two of Truant's friends— Mad Gear and the Missile Kid— came and attacked us."
"Mad Gear and the Missile Kid?" Jimmy squawks, bolting up in his seat. "That's them out there?" I nod and he adds "So, who's the one kicking Poison's ass?"
"What?" I ask, gently moving Missile out of my lap and going to the front to look out the windshield. Sure enough, Mad Gear has Gerard up against at the truck, with Gerard's own gun situated under his chin. Dr. Death is being held back by the Missile Kid, and Mikey— who seems to be sobbing— is restrained by Truant. Frank is laying on the sand, his gun next to him, and Jet is laying next to him. Jet, however, seems to be conscious, watching the scene before him in horror. "Damn it!" I cry and start to search for my gun.
"Um, sweetie, you're not going out there," Love says, grabbing my arm and digging her fingernails into my flesh. "If they survive, Poison'll ghost me for letting me go out."
"But what if they don't survive?" I protest. "For fuck's sake, Ghoul's already on the ground."
"I'm with Halsey," Jimmy says. "Love, Poison's gonna get ghosted. We need to help him."
Love looks around the cab of the van nervously, brushing her blond hair out of her eyes. "Fine," she sighs finally. "Missile, you stay—"
"No!" Missile cries. "That's my papa out there! I'm not staying here! I want to help!" She sets down her robot and pulls her bag over her head, pulling a small boombox out of the canvas bag. "I want to help." she repeats. With those words, her small stature suddenly seemed to soar towards the clouds, the small girl snapping into Killjoy mode.
"Alright," Jimmy says, impatiently. "Let's go, then."
We quickly escape Lil' Shit and make our way over to the group. "Mad Gear!" Love yells, pulling her gun out of an inside pocket of her pink leather jacket. She looks at me and smirks and, almost as if I can read her mind, I know what she wants me to do.
Mad Gear turns towards us, his red eyes flashing with fury. Before he can make a sharp remark, however, I swing at him, trailing my fingernails down my his face like I did with Robert Bryar so many months ago. Mad Gear cries out in pain and falters for a second, giving Gerard a chance to wrestle out of the injured man's grip.
That's the moment that all hell breaks loose.
The moment that Gerard escapes Mad Gear's grip, Mikey swings him arm around behind him, nailing Truant in the side of his head with his fist. The man yells out and lets go of Mikey on instinct.
Jet jumps up, snapping into fight mode, and grabs one of the Missile Kid's arms, pulling it from off of Dr. Death. The latter pulls out his gun and presses it against the red-haired man's temple, forcing him to the ground. Once Jet is sure that Dr. Death can hold his own, he pulls Mad Gear to the ground as well, sitting on his back and tying his hands together with a piece of cloth.
He quickly ties up Truant and the Missile Kid as well, leaving them on the ground. "You son of a bitch," Mad Gear hisses, spitting pieces of sand out of his mouth.
"Poison, take Halsey into the building," Dr. Death says. "I'll be right behind you with Ghoul."
Gerard nods and grabs my wrist tightly. I can tell that he's pissed, and I know I'm going to get it when we get inside.
We push through the papered door and the both of us stand silent for a second, examining the room before us. It smells like cigarette smoke and warm booze in here; not a particularly welcoming scent. I see white tiled walls, with a row of red tiles around the entire room. The floor is tiled as well, the same white tiles as the wall. Closest to the swinging door on the other side of the room is a Formica-topped bar, with red, vinyl-covered bar stools surrounding it.
"Why the hell did you come back out?" Gerard asks, letting the door slam behind us.
"You were about to die, in case you forgot," I retort. "I thought I would be the least bit helpful and try to not let you get ghosted."
"That's why I wanted you to stay in the van," Gerard argues, his grip on my wrist tightening. "So that you wouldn't get ghosted."
"God, stop treating me like I'm a fucking china doll!" I cry. "Because— news flash!— I'm not! I can hold my own! I know that's what you would want to do for Ashley but you have to understand that Ashley is gone. She's dead, Poison, and she's not coming back, no matter how much you try to protect me! This isn't Battery City or some movie; there's gonna be some dangers out here, and guess why?" Gerard watches me rant, waiting for me to answer my own question. "This isn't a movie. These are the Badlands."
Notes
HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY HESISTANT FUCKING ALIEN!!!! *throws glitter and confetti*
.:stay lovely:.
xoøli
The last line of every chapter is always great.
And happy birthday Hesitant Alien!
10/1/15