Fuzzy and Sasha - Saturday, August 11th, 2074 - Late morning - Ares Macrotechnology Arcology

Fuzzy and Sasha were feeling pretty good about their donation of food. Moreso Sasha, who thought that her donation was significant. It was in a way to the hungry people who'd gotten their meal, but Fuzzy understood hunger better.

"Oh, come on," said Sasha, "We did a good thing."

Fuzzy nodded. She agreed, but only up to a point. She didn't know enough about the ACHE to make a judgement call, but she'd seen the famine up close and personal. A hundred and fifty wraps minus the small amount that she and Kenji had eaten wasn't nearly enough for everyone.

"Yeah, I guess so," said Fuzzy.

"Now let me do something good for you," said Sasha, excitedly, "This way."

They headed down a corridor and took a left. Fuzzy had to increase her pace to keep up as Sasha seemed to have a spring in her step.

"So where do you live?" asked Fuzzy.

Sasha pointed up towards the ceiling.

"i live with my parents in the executive suites on floor one-twenty," said Sasha, "It's a huge step up from where I used to live."

"Where's that?" asked Fuzzy.

Sasha stopped and had to focus before pointing south before moving again.

"There's some Ares owned housing outside of the arcology where we used to live, but it's not very good," she admitted, "When I got my magic, we were in the arcology by that point, around floor seventy-five where upper middle management lives. Mom and dad had been wanting to keep moving up to somewhere more permanent but me getting my magic got us the push to move to where we live now. After that we moved a few more times, but it was always up."

"So you getting magic was a big deal," said Fuzzy.

Sasha nodded her head.

"If someone in your family gets magic in the corporate world, it's a big deal," said Sasha, "In Ares, they get promotions, bonuses, better hours, everything. Awakened like us are rare. A little over one percent of the population. At the same time, people who weren't born into the Ares corporation or weren't there at its founding aren't fully trusted by management. Awakened that are hired don't get the royal treatment. So if you're born Ares and awakened, everyone in your family who works for the corporation gets something. Sooo...When I got my magic, we were moving up by that point, but my uncle, my dad's brother, he got a promotion too. Even my cousins got bonuses."

They both skirted around a few more cleaner drones on their way towards a store at the end of the hall near the mall doors.

"Ares has been good to us since then," said Sasha, "There were hard years...But, and I know this sounds dumb, but with hard work, talent and luck...A lot of luck, you actually can succeed. And me getting lucky at the end with my magic gave my entire family the nudge it needed to move up to where we live now...I hope we stay. I'm tired of moving around."

She sighed heavily as they reached a store and Sasha leaned up against the wall before entering.

"Look, I know I bitch and moan a lot," said Sasha, "I didn't want this to be a bitch fest for me. My life has just gotten a lot...Different in the last few years. First I lost my friends when my dad got promoted. Resentment, them wanting things from me, probably my mom interfering. Then I lost my freedom. I need to have a security team if I'm anywhere but in the arcology or at school."

"Why not?" asked Fuzzy.

Fuzzy leaned up against the wall next to Sasha.

"Because I'm a target for kidnapping and ransom," said Sasha, offhandedly, "I could have a corporate entourage. Hangers on, people who'll laugh at my jokes and basically do anything for me. But usually those kinds of people aren't friends. I tried it for a little bit, but being around all of those people I didn't feel anything for felt even more lonely than being alone. It's too...Transactional."

"Whatawal?" asked Fuzzy.

"It's like buying and selling, but socially," said Sasha, "They'll laugh at my jokes and sneer at my enemies and do things for me so long as they get what they want from my family. And I eventually just dismissed them all even though it made my mom really mad. I thought I found a real friend last year at school, but that fell through. Turned out to be a total bitch and...Well...She made me into a total bitch for a while too. I didn't like who I was around her so it just didn't work out. But like...I appreciate what my family has. I do, really. It's just that nothing feels stable. My family is too wealthy for me to have fun with my old friends but we're too new to money to get accepted by the wealthy kids."

Fuzzy really didn't know most of what Sasha was talking about, but she understood a little.

"You got your magic and now you're stuck at school for most of the week," said Fuzzy, "You don't fit in and you can't leave."

"No I don't and no, I can't," sighed Sasha, "I just got my ass parked there last year and I have three more years of it. School is boring. You can really only do the same nature walk or play the same games or hang out with the same people as last year who ran out of ideas before I did before you're bored out of your mind. It's actually how they get some of the dumber and lazier kids to actually do their classwork, because it's something to do. I know it's supposed to be a place of isolation and contemplation so we can learn and grow our magic. And it does work, but it's so fucking boring there. And then..."

Sasha smiled, a little shyly.

"Well, you show up and it's not so boring," said Sasha, "You're fun to talk to. You're different. Sorry for bitching. I just don't have anyone to talk to about this kind of stuff."

Fuzzy grinned and felt a little better about herself.

"I mean, maybe you don't like the school that much," she said, "But it stays the same, right?"

Sasha paused to think about that and quirked a small smile.

"Yeah, you're right," she said, "I had to move into a new cabin this year, but that's it...I hadn't thought about it that way. No more moving every month when I'm at school."

The girls loitered for a while. A security guard in what looked like a shiny, white gold golf cart drove on by, but he didn't pay any attention to Fuzzy or Sasha.

"So this store that we posted up against is called Bellona," she said, "They do women's clothing. It's all high end designer shit, but my mom will get on me if I go anywhere else that's below my station or whatever. Even to look. Hell, even if I just ordered it off the matrix. So...In we go."

Bellona was just what Sasha said it was. All the latest in what was fashionable was here. Fuzzy was intrigued by all the different patterns, colors and cuts of each and every outfit. She looked at the drone mannequins, the clothes they wore and how they not only struck a new pose every twenty seconds or so, but if prompted they'd even step off their pedestals and walk down the aisle, briefly playing the runway model before they got back up to begin posing again.

Fuzzy found all of this to be part fascinating and part creepy, though Sasha seemed to take it all in stride. What really got Fuzzy's attention is when she looked at a piece of clothing it showed the materials, sizes available, alternate colors, maker and of course, price. Price was the only thing that made sense to Fuzzy.

"Is this scarf really three-hundred new ends?" she asked, "There's so little fabric and it's so flimsy looking."

Fuzzy pointed at what she thought was a scarf, which was nearly a translucent blue.

"I think that's the point. And it's nuyen," corrected Sasha.

"That's what I said. Nuyen," fibbed Fuzzy.

"Right. Yeah, it really is," said Sasha.

"That's a lot," said Fuzzy, her tone dubious.

Sasha threw up her hands in mock surrender and turned her head ever so slightly.

"Okay, now I'm convinced," said Sasha, in mock exasperation, "You don't know how much women's clothing costs. You've completely convinced me. You can stop trying now. And that's called a stole, not a scarf. It's a formal evening shawl."

"Looks like a flimsy, overpriced scarf to me," said Fuzzy, dubiously, as she tested the fabric between two fingers, "Feels nice though. I don't think I've ever felt something so soft before. And I can't even see the stitching."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Sasha laughed and shook her head, exasperated.

"Why would the stitching matter?" asked Sasha.

Fuzzy released the stole from between her two fingers and looked around at a number of other, equally fabulous, flimsy and overpriced articles of clothing. Even at the swap meet she'd never seen so much clothing and never in her life had it been so fine a quality yet as thin and fragile looking as tissue paper.

"So you can tell how well it's made and how long it will last," said Fuzzy.

"Well I mean, if it doesn't last, you just get a new one," she said, "And besides, these are the latest fashions. You don't wear these forever."

"Why not?" asked Fuzzy.

"Because people will judge you and oh fuck, I sound like my mom," complained Sasha, "Back when my dad was a beat cop, we'd actually fix our clothes if they got damaged with stitches. I got made fun of at my old corporate school for that. My mom paid a lot of money to erase a lot of old pictures of me with patches on my jeans from the matrix."

Despite Sasha's complaints about clothing, if it was up to her she would have kept Fuzzy in the clothing store for hours. Fuzzy didn't have the patience for that. Between Fuzzy's chomping at the bit to leave and Sasha's wish to stay and try on everything they stayed for only half an hour. Sasha bought Fuzzy some night clothes to sleep in. They walked out with shorts, a top along and some underclothes in a bag with an Ares logo and Sasha walked out with a new dress that she liked.

They still had plenty of time as morning gave way to afternoon so Sasha window shopped and Fuzzy did so as well, just for the novelty of it. Just a few stores down that drew Fuzzy's eye. It was the weapons store of course. Not a gun store, no, not a hunting store, but a store for old style weapons. With the advent of new materials and the fact that only hand weapons could become magical in the hands of an awakened, there had been a renaissance in weapons that looked more at home during the actual renaissance.

"Want to browse?” asked Sasha.

Fuzzy nodded eagerly. That was enough for Sasha and they went into a store called Artemis.

Bows, crossbows, axes, pole arms, knives, swords, clubs, batons and even newer weapons like shock batons lined the walls. Fuzzy had seen the gun show, but she'd never seen an armory quite like this. She was interested in the bows at first, but some of them looked needlessly complicated. Who heard of a bow with wheels at the ends? She thought that was pure madness. Just then a blandly handsome, young, light skinned man stepped in front of the girls like some sort of human popup ad.

"Hello miss," he said, "I noticed that you might be interested in our spears."

He hadn't. Fuzzy's eyes just stayed too long on the shiny, black spear in the display window and their facial recognition program alerted the salesman to something she might be interested in.

"Maybe," said Fuzzy, cautiously.

"The new Ares Pilum just came out if you'd like to take a look," said the man, "The black spear in the window just hit the market."

Fuzzy only shrugged. It was black and shiny, but it just looked like a spear. She did need a new one though. There was a small crack in the shaft of her spear and the point needed tending to as it was a little more blunt than she liked. And if she was being honest with herself, it was a little heavy for a spear. Though she preferred to get something from Puyallup the next time she visited. There was someone at the swap meet that she trusted to make good weapons. She was about to turn away when she heard the next thing out of his mouth.

"...Newest in transforming weapons," said the man.

That piqued her attention.

"It does what?" asked Fuzzy.

Sasha sighed, but kept her tongue still for now. As interested as Sasha had been in clothes, Fuzzy was in hunting supplies.

"It transforms into different weapons," said the man.

"How?"

"It's the newest in metamaterials," said the man, flashing his best focus tested smile, "A nickel titanium alloy. Nitinol or memory metal. Would you like a demonstration?"

Fuzzy shrugged and nodded, interested enough to take a moment. The customer service representative reached into the display case and grabbed the spear. His smart contacts flashed with text just for a moment and the tip of the spear seemed to melt and rearrange itself into a new shape. The spear became a bo staff with two blunt ends, then thinned and lengthened into a full quarterstaff. Then they flashed again and that staff seemed to melt into a new shape, becoming thicker until he held a club. And then again until he held a long knife, though with a dull edge since this was a demonstration.

Fuzzy was seriously impressed and to her, this seemed like real magic. She didn't even bother trying to keep cool and the man smiled once again and pointed to a door with an AR sign above it that she couldn't read.

"We could head to the mat for a better demonstration," he said, "It just came out last week."

"Uh...Maybe we should..." started Sasha.

"Yes! Yes I would like to look,” said Fuzzy, eagerly, “Show me."

"Fantastic,” he said, smoothly, “Follow me."

The man smiled broadly, yet inoffensively with a salesman's smile. The girls, one resigned and one eager stepped through some doors into what looked like a Roman style gladiator school, a ludus, though this one had a kind firing range for ranged weapons like bows, crossbows and thrown weapons. The weapon melted again in his hands and thinned out until it became a spear again, which he twirled expertly as he made his pitch and began a simple spear drill.

"Unlike the Cougar collapsible spear our spear uses a different proprietary blend of memory metal to render it distinct from what is an obviously inferior model,” he said quickly, but articulately, in a perfect salesman’s voice, “With a serious of touches to the haft or wireless commands it can be made into a simple staff, as almost all staff drills are spear drills, which Cougar has yet to duplicate."

He touched the side and the spear tip vanished into the metal. It was so fast this time as the metal rippled like water, not a mechanical hiss or click to be heard. The metal simply accepted the spear tip into the haft before it sealed seamlessly behind it. There were no mechanical parts at all. Now that Fuzzy really took a look, she couldn't decide if it melted or not. The metal simply briefly became more like a liquid while shifting and then solid once more.

"So you have the option to use lethal or less than-lethal options with both ends,” he explained, “A person with this spear can be discriminating in what type of force they can use.”

He touched the haft again at the end of the drill in a practiced motion made a small flourish. The metal collapsed downwards until it became a knife, this time with a sharp edge. The man threw the knife at a target and buried it in said target all the way up to the hilt. Then he flicked his wrist and the almost imperceptible line that lead to the knife briefly shone as he yanked on it. The knife reduced in size inside of the target and it easily flicked back towards him, like some sort of bladed yo-yo. And when he caught it, the knife was blunted to keep from cutting him even though he caught it by the hilt. Fuzzy audibly gasped and turned to Sasha. She began to shake the taller girl by the shoulders excitedly as she looked up into her eyes.

"It's a spear that's a knife!" she hissed.

"Whether you use manual controls or a wireless interface," said the man, "The Ares Pilum will change in your hand to any number of pre-programmed weapons."

Fuzzy stopped shaking Sasha and put her game face on as the man retrieved the knife from the target. Her face was passive and disinterested now.

"As I demonstrated," continued the man man, professional, "It is perfectly balanced for throwing because it can shift the distribution of its weight mid-flight. It has a patented Ares no slip grip that differs from the grip on the staff and spear. If you don't like the color it comes in all varieties each to your own specification. And as it is memory metal, if broken it will reform and it will always keep a keen edge every time it reforms."

"How much does it weigh?" asked Fuzzy, eagerly.

"A single kilogram," he said, "Or two point two pounds. And while that may sound light, the metal is a nickel titanium alloy and that means it's tough. We do have heavier options but..."

"That's perfect," said Fuzzy.

He flipped the knife in his hands and offered it to her. By the time it was flipped a "sheathe" formed around the blade so he didn't cut his hand. Fuzzy was desperate for the spear that was a knife. She could've lived like a barrens queen with that weapon. Rats would fall before her. Ghouls would cower. Gangers would...Well, they'd still shoot at her if she came at them with that. But still. Fuzzy tried her best to keep from vibrating with excitement.

"How's it for skinning?" she asked, as she pretended to be bored.

"The edge is customizable," he said, "Though we'd have to program that in. A skinning knife is normally much lighter than a kilogram so in this case, the excess metal would snake up your arm for extra stability."

She grunted and looked to the target.

"By all means," he said. "Knife or spear?"

"Knife,” she said.

As if by magic it became a knife again as it lost its "sheath". She felt the weight of the knife that was a spear and it was remarkably light for what it was. The grip felt firm in her hands, which was reassuring. She wasn’t used to throwing her weapons, because weapons that were thrown could be lost in the ash, but she wanted to try anyway. In a smooth motion she tossed it underhand at the target he'd thrown it at. She didn't score a bulls-eye, but she came close and buried it up to the hilt same as the man.

"Can I mark you down for one?" he asked, "It’s a steal at fifteen-hundred nuyen."

Fuzzy sighed internally. Of course an almost magical spear knife would be three times as much as she had right now. She didn't look to Sasha because she didn't want Sasha buying a single thing more for her as she didn't want to even think about preying on the emotions of her new best friend. Instead she nodded at the man, puffed out her cheeks and blew a breath.

"I'll think about it," she said, her tone full of disappointment.

"We do have payment plans," he pressed, "For only ten percent down you can walk out of here with it right now."

"Let me see your bows,” said Fuzzy, though her heart wasn’t in it.

Sasha sighed. If it was up to Fuzzy she would have kept Sasha there for hours just like Sasha would have been there for hours at the clothing store. Sasha didn't have the patience for that. Between Sasha's chomping at the bit to leave and Fuzzy's wishes to stay and try out all the weapons they stayed for only half an hour. All that Fuzzy got a recharge for her survival knife's phosphorescent light.

Sasha showed Fuzzy around the mall for a few more hours, they had a late lunch, walked the grounds outside where Sasha showed her the old apartment complex that she and her family looked in, which looked cramped. They even went on a quick hike through the hunting grounds, sans weapons. Which is to say that they spent an entire day together. But it was growing late.

"I asked mom and dad if you can stay the night," she said, nervously, "Which is to say that I asked dad first so my mom would say yes. They want to meet you."

"Am I in trouble?" asked Fuzzy.

"No trouble. They're just protective of me," said Sasha, with a sigh, "Also we might've tripped a security alert this morning and my dad is a cop. Sooo...Yeah. He's probably going to ask a lot of questions."

"What's a cop?" asked Fuzzy.

Sasha paused and looked at Fuzzy, and a confused look came over her before sudden, dismayed understanding followed as Sasha took a good look at Fuzzy's aura. All she found there was a slight confusion.

"Wow, you actually don't know what that is,” she whispered, “Wow. Yeah, you just let me do most of the talking."

---

The Topps Company, Inc. has sole ownership of the names, logo, artwork, marks, photographs, sounds, audio, video and/or any proprietary material used in connection with the game Shadowrun. The Topps Company, Inc. has granted permission to the Blake Island on Royal Road to use such names, logos, artwork, marks and/or any proprietary materials for promotional and informational purposes on its website but does not endorse, and is not affiliated with Blake Island on Royal Road in any official capacity whatsoever.