Arthur sat at his work desk, hunched over a sensor he was trying to fix into his helmet. The Con started tomorrow, and he had decided to go as one of the raider kings from his favorite game series "Fallen Shelter." It was an ambitious costume, and he had only made it harder by going for real steel, sensors, and hydraulic actuators. All tuned to a lower strength, of course - he wasn't going to flip any cars on the way there, but he wanted to win the costume competition, and he was sure he had it in the bag. His phone rang, startling him from his focus and causing him to break the delicate component. His frustration faded as soon as he saw the name of the caller: Alicia, his closest - almost only - friend. She didn't run in the same circles as him anymore, opting for some lucrative, if shady, dealings that he wasn't comfortable with, but she was an adult and made her own decisions. Still, the late-night call concerned him. At one point, he would have been happy for it. His crush on her wasn't well hidden and had never really died after the rejection, but he was still happy to have her around. It wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it was close, and he was fine with that. Having thought on his affections enough, he picked up the call.
"Hey Al! What's up? Still good for tomorrow?" he said.
"Hey Arty." Frustration was evident in her voice. "No, I'm not gonna be able to make it. Something came up with work, and now my whole week is shot. Actually, I may need to swing by your shop; I need something worked on ASAP."
Arthur's disappointment was obvious; the man slouched just a bit more in his chair, the broken components of the helmet forgotten, but he was used to this. In all honesty, he was surprised it had taken this long for her to cancel. He schooled his emotions before he replied. "No, it's fine Al, I'm sorry you can't make it, but I get it, life comes first, right? I'll make sure you get some pictures, that way you don't miss out completely, okay? And go ahead, bring what you need fixed in tomorrow morning; I'll get to it after I get back."
"Thanks Arty. You're the best, honest! A real life-saver. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"
"Done deal, Al," he said, hiding any disappointment as he refocused on the helmet, new sensor in hand. "See you tomorrow."
With that, his friend hung up first, obviously busy with something else, and so he worked away his feelings of frustration, shifting his focus to the "fun" he'd have tomorrow.
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Arthur's shop and home wasn't impressive by any means. Two small apartments on the rougher side of town, with a wall torn down between them, one front door swapped out for a garage door, and more than half of the place converted into his workspace. An old shop table, a few tools for metalworking, power tools, and a laptop in the corner where he did everything logistical for his business. Still, he wasn't hurting for cash, and Alicia usually did a good job getting work out for him, so he wasn't uncomfortable with his place in life. His "raider" suit stood tall in the center of the shop section as he brewed a pot of coffee over in the kitchen. The heavy steel body, rusty roll cage, and general bulky appearance made it an intimidating sight. He couldn't wait to see what his friend thought about it. At that, he heard the familiar four knocks Alicia tended to greet him with. She was a little early if anything, but he wasn't complaining. Pouring two cups, he sat them down on the kitchen table before getting to the door. "Hey, you're earlier than I thought you'd be." Alicia was a slightly taller than average woman. With lithe features and short red hair, she fit predictably well in the dragon's colors. Reds and blacks, with no dress codes meant anything from suits to leathers, spiked hair and tattoos. For Alicia, this meant an old biker's jacket, its old allegiances torn off, and whatever she felt like that day. But it wasn't her leaning against the door frame that had Arthur surprised, but the guitar case she had next to her. She wore an irritated expression as she said, "Can I come in?" There wasn't any heat to the question, and Arthur figured it was more directed at the situation than anything.
"Come on in." He moved aside, opening the door just a bit more. She followed him into the workshop, the case slung over her shoulder as she examined the suit. "This is your costume? Looks like something a met-tech might throw together." He couldn't hide the pride in his voice. "No meta tech, just a fun design from a game I like. Anyway, it's not why you're here, right? I assume that's not a guitar," he said, only letting a bit of his disappointment creep back into his voice.
She nodded, and began unzipping the case, and pulling the contents out onto his table. As she did, he began piecing together what it was in his head. 'A focusing array, battery pack, wires a-' "Alicia, this isn't what I think it is," his voice began to adopt a lot more stress. "This, it's illegal, I... I can't touch that!" Laser rifles weren't exactly common, but Arthur had seen a few. Calling the cops was strictly out in this neighborhood, but he usually turned anyone away who brought him one, which is why he was surprised now. "Arty, calm down buddy, and hear me out," she adopted a lower, calmer tone. "It would help me a lot Arty, if you could fix this, my usual guy isn't open this week and-" "I can't touch this Al. Please." At that, she leaned over the components. The woman had been under stress for weeks now, and it was evident in her demeanor, but she knew this argument would happen, and she knew Arthur. "I need this Arthur. Just this once. For me." She could see her friend's resolve weaken a bit, and she knew that was all she needed. "You don't have to touch it." She began, putting the components back into the case. "But, I'll just leave it here today, and I'll be back tomorrow. If it's broken, I'll just have to take it somewhere else. Don't worry about it." Placing the case in the corner of the room, knowing she'd have her rifle fixed by tomorrow, she made her way to the door. "Arty. It's been awhile, we should do something together, the two of us." Arthur, still a pit of emotions, could only strangle a quiet "ye-yeah." as she left, closing the door behind her.