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queerinmech
@queerinmech

A grizzled veteran sits at a table running her finger around the rim of her glass impatiently. The coppery liquid in the bottom gently rocks from the movement. A second glass waits in front of the empty seat across from her. The bar is done up in wood and rustic metal. A bartender theatrically dries glasses with their towel to look busy.

The door opens. The air running in is hot and dry. Silhouetted against a sunset, the stranger pauses for a moment as his eyes flit from one table to another. A grin.

The stranger drops into the seat opposite the veteran.

"I didn't know if you'd show," he says, picking up the waiting glass.

She purses her lips, "Show? I've been here an hour. I was about to leave."

"You know how it is. Always something getting in the way." He swirls the glass and takes a cautious wiff. A styled mustache brushes the side.

"I know how it was. I grew up. I went to the brain doc. What the hell have you been doing all this time?"

"Brain doc? That's what the booze is for." he raises his glass in a toast.

She sighs, but smiles, "Some things never change."

Their glasses click. "Prost!"


The slatted windows high in the rafters show only faint starlight. A bartender is wiping down an empty table, and a barback is restocking the beer.

"Fucking hell Bree, I didn't know you were on the front lines at Washeta. I never would have run those guns to the Holdouts if I had."

"Forget it Gabe, it was ages ago. We took it in the end."

"Yeah Bree, but not until years later." He looked genuinely pained.

"I know. A lot of them didn't make it. But you'd be surprised. I'm still in touch with a few that got dragged out in pieces. I'm more disappointed that you were smuggling things through our lines in the first place."

"I didn't see the sides. I just saw fighting and my partners saw opportunity." he paused and looked at the collection of glasses on the table between them, "No, that's a lie. I was first to see the opportunity. I pushed for it. I just don't like to admit it to myself, knowing how it prolonged things."

"I saw opportunity too Gabe. An opportunity for some peace and quiet for our kids, or at least grandkids."

"You seen any of them?" He leans forward, "You know, recently?"

"Not in the flesh. I get cards sometimes. Tattered, worn. Takes a long time to get a message from the frontier."

He settles back, and makes a knowing grunt, "This was the frontier not long ago." he looks around the dim room, dust drifting lazily through the small lights above the table, "I probably fueled half this town's construction with all the coca I used to haul out here with my crew."

"Way to change the subject. You do know that things get done sometimes, even without stimulants."

The bartender drops off another pair of glasses, liquor sloshing in the bottom. The two pick them up and hold them high, "Prost!"

"Maybe, but it sure helps." his voice momentarily hoarse.


Their laughter can be heard echoing down the empty cobblestone streets.

"He said it was his first threesome," tears in his eyes, "I said but there's four of us!"

"I remember that! What a prick." She holds him up but can barely stand herself from the alcohol and the laughter.

They walk along, deep in the night. The mood shifts.

"Do you ever.." he starts to say.

"Not anymore." she says.

"C'mon now. In another time?"

"This is our time Gabe. Our time."

"I know. But sometimes I feel it in my gut. The wrongness of it all. Like I just keep running from it, but it's always there. Just standing there. My own shadow judging me. Hell, it's not even my shadow."

They slump against a wooden fence. Some kind of animal rumbles in the darkness beyond.

"Of course its yours."

"You know what I mean Bree. It belongs to somebody else. No matter what I do. It follows me. Even if it's a different shape than I remember." his voice starts to break, "Fuck Bree, is it even a memory? How can I remember a thing that never happened to me?"

She looks up at the sky to find the words. A shooting star streaks across the blackness of the moonless night.

"Gabe. We are who are. Some of us start off different some of us start off the same. What we do with what we got is all that matters."

"The fuck I'd do with what I got? I lived a life, sure! Booze and lovers of all kinds so many I can't remember. And. Got a buncha people killed. Addicts. Tears. Blood. Heartache. And you, somehow you did it right. Through it all."

"Do you think I joined the losing side of the war just because I believed in it?"

"Sure. You're better'n me."

"I'm not better than you Gabe. I came into this world hurting. I think I wanted to lose. The fact that we won in the end wasn't something I had prepared for."

"Is that all we are? Just all these little spots of hurtin'?"

"I don't have all the answers either. But I did a lot of thinking. We were there together at that train station. We made a deal, you'd take it to the end of the line if I talked to that girl who looked over at us. Remember?"

"I remember. I don't remember why you talked and I took the train."

"Rock paper scissors. We tied six times in a row. But I saw a guy drop his stack of papers across the platform."

"Is that true?" he looked up at her with wet eyes, "Just... random happenstance separated us?"

"Best I can figure. Had it gone the other way, you'd be talking to me right now."

"How'm I me and you're you if we're just one game of rock paper scissors from being the other'n?"

"You still worried about your shadow?"

"Hell I'm worried about everything. I'm not me either way. Either I'm a bad copy or I ain't got free will. And I don't like neither one." He hiccups. "Fuck."

"It was the first time we were apart when you got on that train. I didn't realize I wouldn't see you again for years when you waved at me out the window."

"I decided to go all in. I got off that train and stowed away on the next. And the next. And then a cargo ship. Met some guys. Fell in with a bad crowd. Had something to prove. It's like..." he clears his throat, "It's like you know if you put a rock at the end of a rope and spin it around your head and the rope breaks? The rock goes flyin' off into the distance? As soon as I couldn't see you anymore I was the rock. Did you at least get her number?"

"No, she giggled and ran off." she smiles wry, "When you didn't come back I was crying my eyes out. I thought about going after you but the last train had left and they kicked me out of the station. A leafleter found me sitting outside, invited me to their show. A bunch of rebels and hellraisers, but good people."

"Did they", he hiccups again and winces at himself, "You know, make it through the war?"

"I don't know. Lost touch. Never even knew most of their real names. Maybe I fought against them, hard to know."

"Sorry Bree, I didn't know."

"You knew, you knew exactly. But I don't blame you either. You needed to prove that you were different. And so did I. Chance just took us different ways. And we made the best of it. I think we both led lives full of stories. Some more sordid than others." she smiles at him.

"Not to get all philosophical, but should I even feel guilt for something I didn't control, but did anyway?"

"We were young. We didn't really understand. We were the children of someone who didn't understand. How could we?"

"Children Bree? They made us. Forced their memories into us. To live a damned existence."

"They also took care of us. When the One Me Policy went into effect in Meridian, they gave us our own identities and fingerprints so we could live out our lives as we saw fit. Had to cut ties to protect us."

"They shoulda just merged us back in. Living out here, cut off from everything we knew? Changed all the passwords on? Forced to start over?"

"The government seized the concordances Gabe, the marshalls, all the equipment. No one had the tech anymore. Nobody expected it. But after the outbreak, the powers that be didn't want to risk another one taking them out."

"I guess I forgot about all that. Just clung onto the hate and injustice of it all."

She nods, "Never a better time to start stopping than right now."

"Amen."

"I better get going. You good to make it back to your hotel?" she asks.

"Yeah, yeah, I can do it."

She pushes off the fence post, "it's been good to see you again, Old Man Gabriel. Keep in touch." She wraps her arms around him.

"I'll try to not keep you waiting next time, Old Lady Gabrielle." He squeezes her tight.


The wind blows gently over the cobblestones, great trees pushing their roots beneath, leaves toss restlessly in the wind. Two shadows part at a crossroads.


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in reply to @queerinmech's post:

thank you for reading and commenting! 💜

there were several points where i had more detail or resolved ambiguity at the end but i felt like it took away from it

like maybe in their world it is all very concrete* but the subtext is and always was about us and our world

* (the terms used have long been established in my glossary for nearly a decade, based on background info that has existed since long before, i am very much in a playground that i have built now)