Frostbite engulfed Archius’ hands and body as he shifted the sheets of metal to the side. He was freezing, and numb. He shook heavily as he continued to pry the metal aside, the fabrics of his gloves being too thin to withstand a Narisan Spring Blizzard. He thought about asking for Sato, but then realised that his uplink had been off, mainly because he needed to conserve heat.
But as he heaved heavy breaths, sighing as he heard shouts in the distance, he pushed into it. He wasn’t as strong as Kazuki, and the cold was making things worse. The planet-wide snow storm had become more intense, and it seems that he’s the to-be-victim of an attempted robbery.
The voices got closer, but as he felt them etch ever nearer, he finally made way! A small gap into one of the various steel huts. His ICAPAD was still lighting up with information as he shoved himself into the gap. The snow and ice splashed through the interior as he landed onto the floor with a thud.
“Ough,” Archius groaned in pain. It wasn’t warm or hot inside, but it was definitely better than out there. He stumbled back upwards, sliding the gap shut. “Fuck…”
Thinning his eyes, he saw a group of criminals run by outside, nearly single file in the tight alleyways. “WHERE THE FUCK DID HE GO!?” one cried.
“JUST KEEP PATROLLING! HE’LL REAR HIS UGLY HEAD SOON!” shouted another, as the voices and footsteps echoed away.
Archius chuckled. “Ugly, they should look at themselves…” he muttered to himself, as he turned towards the interior. It was a barebone living room, though its furniture was in rags and it seemed completely ransacked, the sight felt eerie, for some strange reason. But this was the place.
He grumbled, looking back down at his ICAPAD as he glanced around. The stairway upwards was broken, collapsed in on itself. The walls were thin, but this definitely was the place. There was no way his ICAPAD lied. He shook on the spot, fucking hell this planet is cold, he thought… Moving towards the centre of the room, he glanced around, searching the place.
But instead of trying to find anything to loot, he was instead trying to find anything out of place. Under the sofa, the pillows, the table… Nothing. Then, his eyes scanned towards a bookshelf.
“There’s no fucking way…” Archius commented, condensation leaving his mouth. He approached the bookshelf, seeing that it was completely empty. He started to run his hand across the surfaces of the shelves. “Maybe…”
As he did, he suddenly heard a click. A click? OH FOR FUCK SAKE, he thought, ugh… He expected something better, to be honest. But no matter, he glanced around the room, seeing a small section of the floor behind the couch open up. Mechanical cogs glistened as holographic cloaks revealed a small latch.
Scampering to the latch, Archius felt his limbs shake from the cold. Dammit, he hopes that this place has something warm in it. He rubbed his hands together before grabbing onto the latch. Pulling it up, it came off swiftly… Revealing a ladder downwards. Fragments of snow covered it, as well as cold water.
It was dark. His information didn't lie, and he started to climb down, shoving the latch back on as he descended in pitch black. Slowly but surely, a small modicum of light came through at the bottom, as he continued to climb down. And then, voices, along with old music from before the war, calming… He’s heard it numerous times before.
Arriving at the bottom of the staircase, he twisted around. “Hey, do you guys have anything warm to drink?” asked Archius, glancing over at Amyé and Quinn. The two were sitting at a small bar, as they glanced over at him.
“ARCHIUS?!” Amyé shouted out loud. Archius gently placed his finger on his lips, trying to get her to shut up.
“Oh, Archius?” Quinn waved her worries aways. “Don’t worry, this place is deep. Argue to your heart’s content!”
“Sure, if you say so,” said Archius, dismissively as he walked deeper into the bar. It was a comfy place, though it was filled with cobwebs. “Nice place, you have.”
“Wait… how did you find us?!” shouted Amyé, standing up. Archius unzipped his coat as he chucked it onto one of the tables to dry out. Unlike above, it was… moderately warm in here, yeah, he can survive in this, he thought. “Quinn, did ya tell him?”
“Huh?” Quinn sat up from behind the bar. “No? Wait, Archius, I never told you about this place!”
“I know?” Archius shrugged, looking around the place.
The walls were ornate, with posters and pictures posted up. Most were worn out, from before the war, showing images of operas, film promotions and local schools. Along the wall were two thick coats drying on an old coat hanger near the entrance. There was a door behind the bar counter. And as Archius approached Amyé, he clicked his fingers, pointing to her.
“Anyways, what is this place?”
“Pfft, what does it look like? A school?” joked Quinn. He wasn’t wrong, this planet definitely lacked education, Archius guessed that’s why people like him existed. “Just an underground bar. Shut down long ago, found it with Riharia and Petra… we uh, kept it to ourselves.” Quinn’s face slowly soured at remembering the past. Those two were dead, and Quinn had to face it all.
Glancing around, Archius could see a vault’s worth of ornate valuables. Nothing was shiny, but the furniture and the decor? It looked old, though the war was over, it seems some of its legacy remained in more subtle forms. His eyes fixated on a pile of trinkets in the corner.
“Don’t look at that!” shouted Quinn. “That’s uh… my collector’s pile from before.”
“Oh, so your kleptomania corner?” Archius inquired. “Makes sense, you can’t exactly keep everything in your pockets.”
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“Oi… you haven’t answered my question!” Amyé violently bashed her hand into Archius’ forearm, though it felt quite weak. He then pointed at Amyé, uttering no words.
She looked towards Quinn, then back at Archius as she stood up. She was holding onto a glass cup of scotch, judging by the looks of it. She pointed at herself, rather confused as she scratched her ginger hair.
“No, no, no,” said Archius, slowly sliding his hand beneath Amyé’s shirt collar, pulling out a small device. It blinked slowly with a low hue of light as he showed it to the two of them. “Y’all forgot, I have eyes everywhere, and how long did it take for you to steal enough alcohol?”
“Hey! I found… most of it?” Quinn jogged his memory, not too sure of it himself. “Actually… I think I stole most of it. Well… we had to evict the previous owners…”
“The only thing you’re master of is ruining the fucking mood.” snapped Amyé, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. With them closed, she karate chopped the tracking device, destroying it without even looking, before turning back and sitting back down. “Why do I have to be stuck with the kleptomaniac and the creep?!”
Archius couldn’t help but chuckle at the bad-mouthing sniper. Speaking of which, her sniper was gently resting on one of the stools, along with Quinn’s shotgun. “I’m not that much of a creep, I just know your every dying and living secret.”
“Ugh, so uh, are we in trouble?” asked Quinn, avoiding the topic of secrets.
Archius sat down beside Amyé, looking up at the low hue of lights. Behind the bar was a large wall of alcoholic beverages. “Only if you don’t serve me some drinks.”
“Yeah, yeah, kill yourself please,” Quinn nodded, grabbing a random bottle of wine from the shelves of wine. “Tis probably fine aged, or whatever…”
“That’s now how ageing works,” commented Amyé, jabbing at Quinn as she downed her cup of scotch.
“Nah shut the fuck up. I stored this wine here! Therefore I know what it is!” Quinn shot back, pointing fingers at Amyé as he grabbed another cup from below the counter, serving Archius up a drink before downing the opened bottle.
“Uh huh, uh huh, totally.” Amyé said, dismissively.
Archius slowly grabbed the cup, pressing it to his lips as he drank the wine. It was… not aged? Actually, he didn’t know, he couldn’t tell. But if he couldn’t, he doubted that these two could. Considering how expensive aged wine is, Archius merely threw the assessment aside.
Placing the empty bottle down on the counter, Quinn chuckled. “You know, Archius, if you could convince Sato, maybe we can get all this wine transferred back to the Phoenix’s Fury.”
“Yeah!” Amyé looked towards Archius. “Go tell Sato to like, I don’t know, get her legion of drones down here, this shit here can keep us all drunk for weeks!”
“It can keep us drunk for weeks, yes. But it’ll only take you one day to get through this whole stockpile,” Quinn slapped Amyé, light-heartedly. Archius and Quinn shared a moment of chuckling as the former felt somewhat relaxed here… No war, no mission, just three friends and some liquor to loosen their tongues. “Maybe that slap will ram it into your big fat head.”
Archius stopped bullshitting to himself, he was definitely here to hear some rumours and get some extra information. His job as a spymaster is to ensure the AGENCY can survive threats from the unknown. The Gunrunners are a threat, yes. And a loose tongued Quinn here might give him some extra information. Of course, there was a reason why he didn’t bring those two along to meet with Osmond. Quinn knew Osmond. And vice versa; the two have waited ten years for their reunion, they can wait a little more.
“Oi, fuckhead, it won’t take me a day! It’ll take me hours!” Amyé snapped back, slapping her hand against Quinn’s turquoise head, trying to slap it whilst dead drunk.
But she did seem to have the ability to speak somewhat properly. These two alcoholics have the highest tolerances; and he would not want to fighting them in a drunken bar fight.
All Archius needed to do was add some pressure to Quinn. “Fuck me, you two act like siblings.” said Archius, pouring himself another cup as he leaned over the bar. In the calm of the underground bunker, they could forget about the storm raging above. Now that he thinks about it, this place was probably Quinn’s go to hidey spot back when he lived on this planet.
“No we do not!” shouted the two, glancing at Archius, then at each other. Archius merely raised a cup, a Symbolic representation to how, after their disapproval, he was proved right.
But Archius kept his eyes on Quinn. Whilst Amyé laughed it off and continued drinking, he looked more sombre, taking a small swig from another bottle. He seemed less of an immature fool. Archius made sure to not drink too much, he wasn’t Kazuki tier light-weight, but he wasn’t strong either.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” said Quinn, looking up for a moment. And he tried to hide things behind his fake laughter. “I mean, you willing to adopt the two of us?”
“Tch, fuck no.” said Archius, “I’ll leave the babysitting and elder sibling work to Claire.”
“Pfft, fuck you!” Amyé pointed her middle finger up to Archius. He merely shrugged, and did the same. For a moment, he felt at home. Strange, he thought. This is unusual… He glanced down at his cup as he poured more wine into it, before glancing up at Amyé and Quinn… They felt so familiar, yet so far away.
But he had a mission. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck me.” said Archius. “So, this place, you said you found it with Riharia and Petra? I didn’t think Clandestine had any contracts here before.”
It was gentle, nothing to be suspicious of. Quinn’s history wasn’t well known, with only Archius, Kaz and Martinez really being privy to anything that actually goes on. The Contract-Breaker’s Talons, some in the CRIS say, not even two years and the AGENCY already has a plethora of nicknames.
“Nah… Hey, I know you’re supposed to be the secret teller guy, but you can keep some secrets, right?” asked Quinn.
Placing his glass down, Archius nodded. “Whatever is already known is already known; whatever is not, is not.” Archius equivocated.
“Appreciate it, boss,” said Quinn. “Me, Riharia and Petra used to live on this shithole. We found this place and we joined the military, that’s really it.” He looked slightly embarrassed, as if joining the armed forces was a shameful act.
It was the truth, but it wasn’t the full truth. But Archius allowed the lie to persist, after all: he already knows the truth of it. “I see, well, lucky that you got off this waste hole.”
Amyé raised her glass. “Aight, let’s all drink to that, then.”
Archius did the same, as Quinn slowly raised his glass, quickly pouring wine into it as he clashed it against the others. And as the two downed it, Archius slowly sipped on his, watching as Quinn’s green eyes retracted to a low slit. He had all he wanted and more, but perhaps he shouldn’t pressure Quinn too much.
“Oh yeah, you don’t really hang out with us, do you, Archi?” asked Quinn, leaning closer to him as he nudged him with his own cup. “Come on, you should do it more often.”
Archius shook his head. “No, too much work for me,” lied Archius. In all honesty, he just didn’t see the point to it. Sure, it was fun hanging out with people, but after what happened with Kaz and Jas, he’d prefer to keep to only his closest friends.
He could list them off on his fingers, Archius noted. Kaz, Yuki, Liz? Sure… let’s have her on there; Barclay, Hannah and Jasmine… But she’s lost all recollection of him.
“Yeah, too much work.” Archius repeated himself. Downing his cup, he slammed it against the bar counter.