Scrap Metal Philosophy 4 (Patreon)

Scrap Metal Philosophy

Chapter 4

-VB-

Taylor found Techscav again only a week after the battle at Canberra.

“What are you doing?”

And just like before, she was puzzled by what he was doing.

“Working,” he grunted as he soldered two metal casings together. “The gun I used in the Simurgh battle got busted up from overheating. Half of the parts were never designed to withstand that kind of heat in the first place, so all of them are total losses if not slags over there,” he said while pointing with his elbow. She looked toward where he was pointing and saw what he was talking about.

A pile of electrical components sat at the edge of the clearing made in the junkyard but clearly within the space. Most of them didn’t look like even the recyclers would attempt to break apart. If the parts weren’t warped, then they were charred black.

Then she paused as what he said registered in her mind.

“Wait, you used your gun? Against who?” she asked. “Against …?”

“Yeah,” he grunted as he pressed the casing together. “Fat lot of good it did. All I did was distract her for a moment or two. “... Wanna have a hand at building tinkertech?”

She looked at him in surprise and found him staring up at her from where he’d been working on the ground alone in a small makeshift hut.

“Me?”

“Yes. Why not, right? You’ve been okay with me so far,” he replied to her question. “Besides, it’ll be fun as long as you know how to follow instructions.”

She stared at him and had to remind herself that this guy - this Endbringer battle veteran cape - was not some evil partner of Emma. That he was being genuinely nice to her.

“Why offer at all?”

He stared at her for a moment before looking down at his burnt out gun.

“It’s just … nice to have someone around to talk to. Like I can trust you. It’s not like you reported me to anyone.”

“... No thanks but thanks for the gesture,” she mumbled even as she came down crouched right next to him to see what he did next. He worked on in comfortable silence before she finally spoke up again. “A-Are you going to be a hero?”

He paused and looked at her again. Despite how he was living in a literal junkyard without access to running water, he didn’t smell bad nor look scruffy. He went back to fiddling with his gear before he answered. “I’m not sure if I should be a hero.”

“Huh?”

“I know that I can be a hero,” he replied. “But I think my definition of heroics would not be in line with the modern definition of it. Heroics that I see is not what I like.”

“You think that the Protectorate and PRT is bad?”

“Not bad just … not right.”

“Why?”

“Because they aren’t real heroes.”

“But they save people.”

“They choose who to save and who not to save. If they were heroes… then the ABB and the E88 wouldn’t be here, would they?”

She cringed. “But that’s because there are reasons.”

“Like?”

“... I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either, so I don’t know if I should be a hero, because if I see another hero harassing someone, then I’ll stop them. If I see a politician in charge of a sex ring, then I’ll kill them.”

She squirmed a little at the surety in Techscav’s voice even as he spoke of killing. He … wasn’t a villain. She could tell that much from how he told her he would use his power. It’s just …

“But I know that I would also not be in the right,” he added. “Who am I to come and say that the law, the due process, and the opinion of the people are wrong?”

“... Right.”

“Except the people are indifferent - because words lack the power of action - until they are the ones being affected by crime, hate, poverty, and hopelessness. So I don’t give a shit. It’s not right, but I don’t care for what is ‘right’ as defined by modernity.”

“... You’re going to run into a lot of problems if you act like that.”

“I know.”

And then silence ensued until she had to leave for the day.

-VB-

Skidmark looked at the dipshit that the green horns and pussy boot lickers have been talking about. One of his buyers in the PRT coughed up shit about the guy instead of paying (Skidmark made him pay anyway).

For a guy who supposedly got hits in on the winged bitch up in the sky high on mindfucking the shit out of everyone, this “Techscav” guy didn’t look like much.

Hell, he’d fit in right in with his crew.

“YO~! Who’s the limpdick wifebeater?!”

The Tinker looked up from inside his hut and stared at him.

Huh. The bastard’s tired of life. Yeah, well, all capes are tired of the shit life drops on them. This guy’s nothing special.

“I heard you were the guy who fucked with the pigeon bitch. I’m Skidmark, and my gang of Merchants could use -”

The arrogant pisstard frowned at him. “Sorry, not interested.”

And then he pulled up a blocky pistol. It was rough, rusted, and weird. Could that thing even fire?

Skidmark quickly put down a field in front of him with the tip of his finger and waited for the shot. But the tinker fired it … away from everyone? Was he trying to show off or something?

And then Skidmark lurched as he felt something hit him in the side of the head. He keeled over, wondering why he lost his balance. He heard gunshots go off and wanted to tell the idiots to stop killing a tinker they could use, but it wasn’t long before those gunshots also disappeared.

Then he saw the tinker standing over him.

“Skidmark and his friends just disappeared one night. That’s how it’ll be known,” he mumbled and Skidmark watched as he pulled out a scrunched up plastic water bottle with … grey water?

And then poured it over him.

He couldn’t even scream as everything began to burn and it never stopped burning until he closed his eyes.