(no subject)
YOU HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELVES FOR THIS.
Title: Colours of the World (spice up your life)
Characters: Grace and the Killjoys. Spice: Baby, Scary, Ginger, Posh, Sporty. Mentions of DDD/Show Pony, Spice GSF, and preslash for Ghoul/Party.
Rating: pg
Wordcount: 2123
Summary: Ghoul doesn't like getting visits from other resistance groups, but it's a necessary evil.
Prompt used: future:dystopia for AU bingo
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Author’s notes: I downloaded Spice Girls, and then remembered this music video and made a post about it fitting into the Killjoys 'verse perfectly, and my flist encouraged my insanity. Blame them, not me. I didn't use the code names in the video, only because I didn't want it to be even more confusing. Set in the same 'verse as How to Raise a Resistance Fighter but you don't need to read one to understand the other.
1)
Ever since Piggyback was lured away with the promise of real concerts, Ghoul doesn’t trust other rebel groups. The only saving grace of the entire situation was that it happened before Grace was old enough to remember him. He hates the idea of her remembering one of her dads going away. He hates it almost as much as the idea that in the future another offer that can’t be refused won’t be by Party or Kobra or Jet Star, and he’ll be even more alone.
That’s not saying he doesn’t put up with them. There’s no choice but to meet with others. Different groups in different zones have different things they can acquire that the Killjoys need. Used can get TNT, sulfur, potassium nitrate, charcoal, anything one might need to make something explode. Party has ties to Placebo, who do exactly what their name says, trade out BLI prescriptions with empty pills. Panic! provides more music for Death Defying to play to try to help a generation of dead youths.
And right now, they’re meeting Spice. One doesn’t give away trade secrets, so Ghoul has no idea how they have access to so much water. But the Killjoys have an excess of guns, and Spice has entire galleons of the sweet stuff. It’s just logical.
Still, that doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it.
2)
He knows he should probably trust Spice. The other Killjoys do, and if Ghoul didn’t know Show Pony and Death Defying had been in love since before they became rebels he’d suspect Show of being in love with Baby from how much time they spend together. Hell, he’s even let her try on his skates, and those things hardly ever come off his feet.
So he should trust, but he doesn’t. When he gets back from pissing and sees Grace is gone, he panics. Jet Star can see it in his face and doesn’t give him a chance to start babbling before he explains Grace and Ginger are in the bathroom. Ghoul doesn’t hesitate a beat before walking in. The tiny room is incredibly cramped, Party is balanced on the open tank of the long broken toilet, Grace is sitting on the counter and Ginger is standing in front of her. Ghoul plops down on the grimy seat of the toilet. If Ginger suddenly goes rouge, it’ll take one of them to kill her while the other protects Grace.
It takes Ghoul a minute to realise what Ginger’s doing, and even then it seems odd. Odd enough that he finds himself asking ‘What are you doing?’, even though he doesn’t want to encourage any kind of friendship with any member of Spice.
“I’m showing Grace how to use makeup.”
“Why?” If Grace starts liking it, it’ll be just another thing that they can’t always provide her.
“It’s another form of colour. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now we’re always in black.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty BLI of you.”
“Spice wears their colour on their face. I’ve already told him” she gestures to Party with her hand, a tiny match stick looking device with green powder in a pinched grip “a few different places he can get some, on your next raid, although with his gorgeous hair I’m guessing they weren’t all surprises. But she has to know how to wear it. God knows there aren’t any female role models here. Except maybe Party.”
The response comes from behind his ear. “I should be offended by that, but I’m not.”
“Fucking right you shouldn’t be offended by being compared to a female.” Ginger smiles at the girl in front of her. “Grace, honey? Jump down and tell me if you like it.”
Grace complies, and grins upon seeing the green smeared on her eyelids. Ghoul breaks, just the slightest bit. If someone’s made his daughter smile like that, they can’t be all bad.
3)
There are only three reasons why it’s okay to be woken in the middle of the night when it’s not your night as sentry. The first is Grace is having a nightmare, which is actually a semi-frequent occurrence. It can’t be dealt with by the sentry, because if they’re focused on their daughter, how can they be focused on whether or not there are things creeping towards them in the night? The second is Dracs or someone else SCARECROW affiliated coming to try to take them down. The third is if Death Defying’s radio transmission has woken up some Ritalin rat who’s escaped to the zones.
Ghoul does not consider a full bladder a good reason to wake up, but unfortunately he’s not the one that gets to make those decisions. Once it wakes him up, every roll over to try to find a sweet spot in the sand only serves to toss around his insides even more. Finally he gives in and stands with a curse. He doesn’t want to go too far from camp, breaking an ankle on unseen rough terrain would fuck up a lot of things. Nor does he want to piss anywhere someone might lie down the next evening.
It’s a battle of compromise, and Ghoul’s carefully stumbling for a solid five minutes before he trusts the location and unzips his jeans. He’s dazedly staring into the distance when he sees something in his periphery. Kobra should have this, it’s what he’s awake for, but Frank still finds himself sprinting in the direction of camp and the movement, not bothering to try to zip his pants, only holding them up with one clenched fist while the other holds his blaster steady.
He slows to a halt as he gets closer. It’s nothing. It’s just Kobra and Sporty. Maybe she’s sentry for Spice, maybe she just can’t sleep. But in the slight light of the smog covered moon, they’re sparring. High kicks to the chest, punches pulled just enough to not bruise. Ghoul smiles at the sight; they’re well matched. Kobra loves to spar, but the rest of them are more blaster-friendly than fighters. He hopes Kobra will get a few more opportunities before Spice leaves.
4)
Between the way Ginger has made friends with both Party and Grace, and Sporty with Kobra and Jet Star, Ghoul figures he’s going to have to give in. Not entirely, but some. Hostility isn’t going to help shit, not if Grace decides Ginger is some sort of mother figure, albeit one she sees every few months. So he goes to Posh, who’s leaning against a rock, face pointed to the sky like she’s trying to work a tan. She hasn’t said much, but then Piggyback was never the most verbose either.
“Hard to be the ones with normal hair, isn’t it?” Ghoul smirks a bit as he glances around the warehouse. The redheads are together, with Grace, drawing with stubs of pencils. Jet Star and Scary are talking, as are the Bleachy McBleachersons. Posh doesn’t reply, just looks at him coldly.
“Okay. What the fuck ever.” Apparently Posh is the bitch of the group. It’s the worst thing about meeting another resistance band, there’s always one you hate but have to get along with anyway. Like with Used. Ghoul is well aware they need the charcoal, but Bert is always all over Party and that’s not cool. Ghoul’s not entirely sure why it pisses him off so much, it just does.
A few minutes of silence go by before Posh asks “do you have a cigarette?”
Ghoul looks at her, laughing in every way but audibly. He’s not wasting rations on someone so snobby. It’s hard to get nicotine in cigarette form these days.
“Yes,” Posh amends, “the car always smells like chemicals and there’s a greasy spot from where Scary sleeps. All I need to do is cut mine.”
Ghoul just lets his grow out, but whatever. He can recognise the olive branch of criticizing others style. He pulls one out of his pocket, lights it, takes a drag and passes it to her.
5)
“So, who does everyone love?”
He digs his feet into the cracks in the dry ground. He’s getting antsy, and the last thing he wants right now is to have a conversation. They haven’t fought Dracs in a few days, which is normally what happens when they’re trading. Every group has their own style, and trying to run with someone else never works. That doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. Right about now, he’d be happy if Spice left and they didn’t talk to anyone for months. Still, it would be rude to ignore her, and Ghoul’s fucking trying, okay. “We all love each other.”
“Really?” Baby looks intrigued, an emotion that doesn’t fit at all with his answer.
“Yeah. We’re like brothers, except we picked each other.”
“Oh,” he says before shaking her head. “Who do you have sex with, is what I meant.”
What the fuck? “Why do you care?”
“Celibacy is sad. No one’s ever happy about a lack of touching others. Isolation is another way they win.” Baby tilts her head, pigtails swaying. “I’ll have sex with you.”
The answer comes out before the idea has a chance to percolate in his head. He’s almost surprised by his own vehemence, but the very idea just seems wrong. “No.”
“Oh. Are the Killjoys a monosexual group? I mean, Grace has told me stories about her uncles, so I know you have associates that are.”
Ghoul shakes his head. “No. Or at least I’m not. I think Kobra might be exclusively homosexual though, I’ve only ever heard stories about guys from him.”
“Yeah, Ginger is too. Each to their own, you know, even if it seems sort of weird. But just, me and the girls are up for it if you boys are interested.” Frank doesn’t think he’ll be interested, and some tiny part of him hopes that Jet Star and Party won’t be, even though he’s not sure why he’s hoping that. But he nods anyway, because he’s trying.
6)
As it turns out, he’s not the only one with the itch only shit exploding can scratch. It’s not like he’d consider himself addicted to the sound, or the shrapnel, but there’s no question that driving a bit further into the zone with Scary knowing that in minutes time they’ll be setting up takes the edge off.
It’s irritating though. Scary thinks that Grace should have come with them, that he’s somehow denying her the power she has as a female by not letting her use weapons. Ghoul is trying to resist the urge to sink his hand into her afro and shake her. She doesn’t have a daughter, she doesn’t know what it’s like to need to protect someone.
“She’s seven,” he says for what feels like the hundredth time.
“Girl power!”
“You saying that doesn’t change the fact that she’s seven!” It’s the most incredibly aggravating conversation he’s ever had, and that includes the times he’s been forced to talk to Quinn.
“And her being seven doesn’t change the fact that she lives in a world where people will be shooting at her! She needs to know how to fight back, you complete and utter berk.” Ghoul doesn’t recognise the slang, but he suspects it’s nothing pleasant.
He grits his teeth and imagines the impending explosion. He can’t argue this any more, because he’ll go insane, because he’ll end up getting into a fist fight with her, because there’s the slightest possibility she’s right. And that will be the worst fucking nightmare in the world, trying to explain to the rest of the Killjoys why he wants to teach her to use a blaster.
7)
When they finally leave, Grace insists on standing and shouting bye until their blue car is just a speck in the distance. The wheels churn up a cloud of dust, and Kobra reaches out to pull her handkerchief up to protect her lungs when it’s obvious she’s not going to take a second from her frantic waving to do it herself.
Ghoul isn’t going to miss them. He’d be happy if he only saw Jet Star and Kobra and Party and Grace for the rest of his life, and Show and Dr Death on occasion. But they’ll be back. Ginger will show Grace how to be a woman, Baby will maybe be Grace’s first, Scary will make sure Grace is as violent and powerful as she can be. They’ll be back, unless they get captured, and then one of the other resistance groups will show Grace the few things they can’t. His family will never be left alone, and he’d rather have visits by the likes of Spice or Panic! than Korse.
Title: Colours of the World (spice up your life)
Characters: Grace and the Killjoys. Spice: Baby, Scary, Ginger, Posh, Sporty. Mentions of DDD/Show Pony, Spice GSF, and preslash for Ghoul/Party.
Rating: pg
Wordcount: 2123
Summary: Ghoul doesn't like getting visits from other resistance groups, but it's a necessary evil.
Prompt used: future:dystopia for AU bingo
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Author’s notes: I downloaded Spice Girls, and then remembered this music video and made a post about it fitting into the Killjoys 'verse perfectly, and my flist encouraged my insanity. Blame them, not me. I didn't use the code names in the video, only because I didn't want it to be even more confusing. Set in the same 'verse as How to Raise a Resistance Fighter but you don't need to read one to understand the other.
1)
Ever since Piggyback was lured away with the promise of real concerts, Ghoul doesn’t trust other rebel groups. The only saving grace of the entire situation was that it happened before Grace was old enough to remember him. He hates the idea of her remembering one of her dads going away. He hates it almost as much as the idea that in the future another offer that can’t be refused won’t be by Party or Kobra or Jet Star, and he’ll be even more alone.
That’s not saying he doesn’t put up with them. There’s no choice but to meet with others. Different groups in different zones have different things they can acquire that the Killjoys need. Used can get TNT, sulfur, potassium nitrate, charcoal, anything one might need to make something explode. Party has ties to Placebo, who do exactly what their name says, trade out BLI prescriptions with empty pills. Panic! provides more music for Death Defying to play to try to help a generation of dead youths.
And right now, they’re meeting Spice. One doesn’t give away trade secrets, so Ghoul has no idea how they have access to so much water. But the Killjoys have an excess of guns, and Spice has entire galleons of the sweet stuff. It’s just logical.
Still, that doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it.
2)
He knows he should probably trust Spice. The other Killjoys do, and if Ghoul didn’t know Show Pony and Death Defying had been in love since before they became rebels he’d suspect Show of being in love with Baby from how much time they spend together. Hell, he’s even let her try on his skates, and those things hardly ever come off his feet.
So he should trust, but he doesn’t. When he gets back from pissing and sees Grace is gone, he panics. Jet Star can see it in his face and doesn’t give him a chance to start babbling before he explains Grace and Ginger are in the bathroom. Ghoul doesn’t hesitate a beat before walking in. The tiny room is incredibly cramped, Party is balanced on the open tank of the long broken toilet, Grace is sitting on the counter and Ginger is standing in front of her. Ghoul plops down on the grimy seat of the toilet. If Ginger suddenly goes rouge, it’ll take one of them to kill her while the other protects Grace.
It takes Ghoul a minute to realise what Ginger’s doing, and even then it seems odd. Odd enough that he finds himself asking ‘What are you doing?’, even though he doesn’t want to encourage any kind of friendship with any member of Spice.
“I’m showing Grace how to use makeup.”
“Why?” If Grace starts liking it, it’ll be just another thing that they can’t always provide her.
“It’s another form of colour. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now we’re always in black.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty BLI of you.”
“Spice wears their colour on their face. I’ve already told him” she gestures to Party with her hand, a tiny match stick looking device with green powder in a pinched grip “a few different places he can get some, on your next raid, although with his gorgeous hair I’m guessing they weren’t all surprises. But she has to know how to wear it. God knows there aren’t any female role models here. Except maybe Party.”
The response comes from behind his ear. “I should be offended by that, but I’m not.”
“Fucking right you shouldn’t be offended by being compared to a female.” Ginger smiles at the girl in front of her. “Grace, honey? Jump down and tell me if you like it.”
Grace complies, and grins upon seeing the green smeared on her eyelids. Ghoul breaks, just the slightest bit. If someone’s made his daughter smile like that, they can’t be all bad.
3)
There are only three reasons why it’s okay to be woken in the middle of the night when it’s not your night as sentry. The first is Grace is having a nightmare, which is actually a semi-frequent occurrence. It can’t be dealt with by the sentry, because if they’re focused on their daughter, how can they be focused on whether or not there are things creeping towards them in the night? The second is Dracs or someone else SCARECROW affiliated coming to try to take them down. The third is if Death Defying’s radio transmission has woken up some Ritalin rat who’s escaped to the zones.
Ghoul does not consider a full bladder a good reason to wake up, but unfortunately he’s not the one that gets to make those decisions. Once it wakes him up, every roll over to try to find a sweet spot in the sand only serves to toss around his insides even more. Finally he gives in and stands with a curse. He doesn’t want to go too far from camp, breaking an ankle on unseen rough terrain would fuck up a lot of things. Nor does he want to piss anywhere someone might lie down the next evening.
It’s a battle of compromise, and Ghoul’s carefully stumbling for a solid five minutes before he trusts the location and unzips his jeans. He’s dazedly staring into the distance when he sees something in his periphery. Kobra should have this, it’s what he’s awake for, but Frank still finds himself sprinting in the direction of camp and the movement, not bothering to try to zip his pants, only holding them up with one clenched fist while the other holds his blaster steady.
He slows to a halt as he gets closer. It’s nothing. It’s just Kobra and Sporty. Maybe she’s sentry for Spice, maybe she just can’t sleep. But in the slight light of the smog covered moon, they’re sparring. High kicks to the chest, punches pulled just enough to not bruise. Ghoul smiles at the sight; they’re well matched. Kobra loves to spar, but the rest of them are more blaster-friendly than fighters. He hopes Kobra will get a few more opportunities before Spice leaves.
4)
Between the way Ginger has made friends with both Party and Grace, and Sporty with Kobra and Jet Star, Ghoul figures he’s going to have to give in. Not entirely, but some. Hostility isn’t going to help shit, not if Grace decides Ginger is some sort of mother figure, albeit one she sees every few months. So he goes to Posh, who’s leaning against a rock, face pointed to the sky like she’s trying to work a tan. She hasn’t said much, but then Piggyback was never the most verbose either.
“Hard to be the ones with normal hair, isn’t it?” Ghoul smirks a bit as he glances around the warehouse. The redheads are together, with Grace, drawing with stubs of pencils. Jet Star and Scary are talking, as are the Bleachy McBleachersons. Posh doesn’t reply, just looks at him coldly.
“Okay. What the fuck ever.” Apparently Posh is the bitch of the group. It’s the worst thing about meeting another resistance band, there’s always one you hate but have to get along with anyway. Like with Used. Ghoul is well aware they need the charcoal, but Bert is always all over Party and that’s not cool. Ghoul’s not entirely sure why it pisses him off so much, it just does.
A few minutes of silence go by before Posh asks “do you have a cigarette?”
Ghoul looks at her, laughing in every way but audibly. He’s not wasting rations on someone so snobby. It’s hard to get nicotine in cigarette form these days.
“Yes,” Posh amends, “the car always smells like chemicals and there’s a greasy spot from where Scary sleeps. All I need to do is cut mine.”
Ghoul just lets his grow out, but whatever. He can recognise the olive branch of criticizing others style. He pulls one out of his pocket, lights it, takes a drag and passes it to her.
5)
“So, who does everyone love?”
He digs his feet into the cracks in the dry ground. He’s getting antsy, and the last thing he wants right now is to have a conversation. They haven’t fought Dracs in a few days, which is normally what happens when they’re trading. Every group has their own style, and trying to run with someone else never works. That doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. Right about now, he’d be happy if Spice left and they didn’t talk to anyone for months. Still, it would be rude to ignore her, and Ghoul’s fucking trying, okay. “We all love each other.”
“Really?” Baby looks intrigued, an emotion that doesn’t fit at all with his answer.
“Yeah. We’re like brothers, except we picked each other.”
“Oh,” he says before shaking her head. “Who do you have sex with, is what I meant.”
What the fuck? “Why do you care?”
“Celibacy is sad. No one’s ever happy about a lack of touching others. Isolation is another way they win.” Baby tilts her head, pigtails swaying. “I’ll have sex with you.”
The answer comes out before the idea has a chance to percolate in his head. He’s almost surprised by his own vehemence, but the very idea just seems wrong. “No.”
“Oh. Are the Killjoys a monosexual group? I mean, Grace has told me stories about her uncles, so I know you have associates that are.”
Ghoul shakes his head. “No. Or at least I’m not. I think Kobra might be exclusively homosexual though, I’ve only ever heard stories about guys from him.”
“Yeah, Ginger is too. Each to their own, you know, even if it seems sort of weird. But just, me and the girls are up for it if you boys are interested.” Frank doesn’t think he’ll be interested, and some tiny part of him hopes that Jet Star and Party won’t be, even though he’s not sure why he’s hoping that. But he nods anyway, because he’s trying.
6)
As it turns out, he’s not the only one with the itch only shit exploding can scratch. It’s not like he’d consider himself addicted to the sound, or the shrapnel, but there’s no question that driving a bit further into the zone with Scary knowing that in minutes time they’ll be setting up takes the edge off.
It’s irritating though. Scary thinks that Grace should have come with them, that he’s somehow denying her the power she has as a female by not letting her use weapons. Ghoul is trying to resist the urge to sink his hand into her afro and shake her. She doesn’t have a daughter, she doesn’t know what it’s like to need to protect someone.
“She’s seven,” he says for what feels like the hundredth time.
“Girl power!”
“You saying that doesn’t change the fact that she’s seven!” It’s the most incredibly aggravating conversation he’s ever had, and that includes the times he’s been forced to talk to Quinn.
“And her being seven doesn’t change the fact that she lives in a world where people will be shooting at her! She needs to know how to fight back, you complete and utter berk.” Ghoul doesn’t recognise the slang, but he suspects it’s nothing pleasant.
He grits his teeth and imagines the impending explosion. He can’t argue this any more, because he’ll go insane, because he’ll end up getting into a fist fight with her, because there’s the slightest possibility she’s right. And that will be the worst fucking nightmare in the world, trying to explain to the rest of the Killjoys why he wants to teach her to use a blaster.
7)
When they finally leave, Grace insists on standing and shouting bye until their blue car is just a speck in the distance. The wheels churn up a cloud of dust, and Kobra reaches out to pull her handkerchief up to protect her lungs when it’s obvious she’s not going to take a second from her frantic waving to do it herself.
Ghoul isn’t going to miss them. He’d be happy if he only saw Jet Star and Kobra and Party and Grace for the rest of his life, and Show and Dr Death on occasion. But they’ll be back. Ginger will show Grace how to be a woman, Baby will maybe be Grace’s first, Scary will make sure Grace is as violent and powerful as she can be. They’ll be back, unless they get captured, and then one of the other resistance groups will show Grace the few things they can’t. His family will never be left alone, and he’d rather have visits by the likes of Spice or Panic! than Korse.