Miguel’s head disappears back into the kitchen as he calls out to her. “Well it’s only just gotten started, but it’ll be barbecue chicken when it’s done, and I’m making some mac and cheese and uh...veggies to go with it!”
Luna tilts her head at the final bit. “Is the reason why we’re having veggies because you forgot to take the frozen stuff back to the fridge?”
An awkward silence passes.
“...Maybe? Yeah, maybe is a good answer. Anyway, I got you some clothes and some other stuff that might be useful for you! It’s on the floor right by you.”
Luna blinks as she looks down, and sure enough, there are several bags of clothes. She idly sorts through them, finding a few different styles but compared to the designer stuff she had before these were certainly older. And just like he said, of varying sizes. She stops when she finds several pairs of underwear and bras, her ears lowering in sheer embarrassment. Miguel calls out again.
“So yeah, whatever doesn’t fit lemme know, and I’ll take it back.”
Luna fishes out a wildly oversized bra, and toys with its stretchiness by pulling at it. “Just...how big do you think my boobs are?”
“Man I don’t know. If you are expecting me to understand the alphabet soup of letters and numbers and algebra you guys use, just flunk me out of class now. It’ll save you time.”
Luna snickers a little bit as she puts the bra back with the others looking back through what she was given. At the end of the line of bags was a slightly smaller one from a different store. She opens it up and starts filing through the contents. Toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush (“That one is actually a really good idea actually.” Luna thought to herself.)...Deodorant? Did...werewolves need deodorant? There were also a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, but at the very bottom of the bag was box of tampons. She reaches down and slowly retrieves the box, holding it up in the air above herself sarcastically, like the worst treasure ever.
“Tampons?”
Miguel’s head pops around the corner.
“Hey, I lived with a woman for like, 10 years. I have made many a trip to stores in the past, in the middle of the rain and snow, dead-ass crack of night, just to buy that little box? You guys don’t have anything I don’t know about. Trust me. Besides, I don’t know how you work, you don’t know how you work, I figure it’s better safe than sorry you know?”
Luna nods, agreeing with the assessment. Miguel’s head slips back into the kitchen.
“Go ahead and put the bathroom stuff up, I made a space for you there this morning. I don’t have a drawer for your clothes kid, so you’ll just have to use some boxes for now. Lunch will be ready in like half an hour alright?”
Luna pulls herself off the couch and heads back into the bathroom to try on all of her new clothes. She found that fit her just fine and plenty of others that threatened either cut off circulation to vital organs/limbs or may as well been bedsheets on her thick frame. Still though, she was very appreciative of the efforts Mr. Morales went through for her, for she didn’t even realize how large she’d gotten. Whenever the Oswalds gave something to her, it was always through the lens of being given a hand-me-down or an undesirable, even though she was much larger than Peggy and required her own clothes. These gifts were given out of kindness, not necessity.
Luna did have to make some adjustments to the pants though. She carves out holes in each one of them for her tail using an extremely rugged pair of scissors. It wasn’t perfect by any means but at least it would be a little more comfortable that way. Luna felt a lot more secure with proper clothes on and even though she couldn’t go outside, she felt more...normal than she had been since she’d transformed a week ago. Happy even. She settles on wearing a nice pink hoodie with a white headphone symbol on it and blue jeans. Her pendant stayed underneath the outwear for safe keeping.
Lunch went about as well as expected, with Luna devouring the lion’s share of the offerings, though Miguel prepared for it and made extra. Several hours pass with Luna heading back to the couch to watch more terribly droll TV and Miguel going back to work in his room. The sun starts to set before Luna heard from him again.
“Luna...Do you mind coming back here for a sec?” Miguel calls patiently.
Luna slides off the couch in a heap, thoroughly bored with the prospect of watching more reality TV. There was only so much of ‘Dude, where’s my Android?’ a person could take. Luna heads towards Miguel’s room and knocks politely before entering, her voice sincere.
“Mr. Morales?”
Luna opens the door and steps inside, finding Miguel with his weapon case out. He beckons her over and pats the bed next to him.
“So, I got to thinking kid. When I heal up a bit, we’re going out again. And security is going to be tighter. I mean, we got lucky last time, but I’m pretty sure next time, some guys are going to be packing heat. And I don’t want you getting hurt, so I’m going to give you a few tips about guns.”
He opens the case and pulls out his 9mm handgun, popping the ammunition out of it. He gestures towards it with a finger before handing it to Luna.
“Here...hold it.”
The gun slides into Luna’s clawed hands and she stares at it blankly. It felt...heavy. Obviously not heavy in the traditional sense, but in the mental sense. This is a tool.
No.
It’s far more than just that.
A weapon designed for killing. One of these was leveled at her and technically ended her life last week. So often in the various media, she consumed, guns were just...apart of it. They fired bullets that hit people, and they died, more often than not. Good guys had them. Bad guys had them. But the other day...She’d been one of those people. The gun seemed extremely unappealing, even unnerving to her now as she continued to just stare at it, her eyes starting to water. When she was shot in the gut...the intense pain that she felt? Was that what everyone felt when they had been shot? Like you’ve been opened up by an impossibly cold spear of agony that would not go away as you were forced to watch your life pool at your feet? She only felt that sickening sensation for maybe a minute or two but even thinking about it made her feel ill. It was only recently when the fur returned to her stomach, covering up the tender skin.
The gun felt far heavier than the car she’d picked up the night before.
Miguel watched Luna’s face turn from caution to sadness to sickness and places a hand on her shoulder.
“Uh...is...is everything okay?”
Luna shudders as she remembers that she’s still sitting there and passes the gun back to Miguel, clearing her throat awkwardly as she wipes a hand over her eyes, smearing her tears.
“I...don’t like guns. I really just...I really don’t like guns.”
Miguel nods slowly and pulls it back into his hand, spinning it around. “Well, that’s fine but let me give you a few pointers real quick so you can survive. First off, I can’t speak for every jackass and gangster, but there are a bunch of folks who don’t know how to shoot a gun and have never practiced with it. Believe it or not, firing a gun isn’t just pointing and shooting with your hands, but your stance. How you hold your arms, how your feet are placed, that kind of deal.”
Luna nods as she places her hands in her lap, listening closely.
Miguel holds the gun out in front of himself, placing both hands on it to steady it. “Both hands on the gun. Feet placed in a steady stance. Focused on your target.” Miguel turns to look slightly towards Luna and nods. “That’s the look of a guy trying to shoot you who’s had some practice.”
Miguel switches over to one hand holding the gun straight out. “You can do this if you like, but guns have way more recoil than they have in the movies. Not only are you wrecking your wrist but if you take a second shot, it takes longer to get the gun under control to aim. Not the worst thing, of course, some people prefer it but...depends. Now this…”
Miguel tilts the gun to the side and passes Luna a sarcastic look, which causes her to giggle. “Do me a favor and bi
te the guy who does this in the balls. You’ve got the same problem as doing it one handed, but then you add that you have to aim from a different direction and..ugh. It’s a mess. Never, ever, ever do. Now….”
Miguel puts both hands back on the gun and looks towards Luna again, swinging it from side to side. “Now you tell me something. In all those games you played, which targets were the hardest to hit?”
Luna sits up, her fingers touching each other energetically. “Oh...moving targets, all the time..unless we’re talking about a game with like, snipers and bullet drop and that kind of stuff.”
Miguel nods slowly, though he grimaces at the mention of a sniper. “Let’s just hope we don’t run into those snipers. But yes, moving targets. Most people are going to look for the target, draw a bead on it, and then fire.” Miguel mimics this by swinging his gun out in front of himself, pointing to a corner and mock firing, pulling the gun back to simulate recoil.
“But you don’t want to be shot, so you are going to watch for when they are trying to get that lead on you, and then move a different direction. Zigzagging work pretty well. For me, I’m not fast enough to do that kind of thing. Plus I’ll have my own gun, so I’ll be taking up cover points and trying to shoot back, but for you, since you are much faster, you’ll be able to get on folks faster than they can draw a line on you.”
Luna relaxes as they talk, feeling quite comfortable.
“But!” Miguel drops the gun in his lap and turns to face Luna fully. “Ideally, you don’t want to be getting shot at all. Hit them from behind, above, below if you can manage it. I don’t know how many of your games that you play that involve stealth-”
“None of them.” Luna interjects helpfully.
“-but the best gunfight is one you can end before it starts. By the way, what kinds of games do you like to play?”
Luna blinks and looks down at her hands, flicking out a finger and counting them off. It’s clear she’s pretty excited as a smile spreads on her face, and her tail flutters back and forth. “Oh...uh...I really like role-playing games. Action games, fighting games...I love...like really love wrestling games. They’re super fun! Oh, I like games that make me laugh too. Games that make me think are also cool. Old ones, new ones, weird ones, I like a lot of them. What about you, do you play anything?”
Miguel shakes his head. “Nah...I never really had the time to get into them to be honest. I did have one that I had, back on our old computer. It was one where you play as a little fox guy with a sword? What was it called? Tale? Dust tale? Sand-”
Luna lights up energetically like someone stuck her tail in a socket. She speaks rapid-fire, unable to contain her excitement. “Oh! Oh yeah! Sandtail! I remember that game! It’s an old classic, a whole bunch of people really like it, and it’s still really neat. I really like that in the game, you can like, choose like, what stats and stuff to build and the side quests are all really cute and funny, and the story is so good! I mean, Gadget was a really cool sidekick, and your talking sword had a really manly voice! Do you remember all that?”
Luna turns to look at him with the earnestness befitting of a fangirl, nearly hopping up and down in her seat in anticipation for his answer. Miguel is legitimately surprised by her response to that and shrugs awkwardly towards her.
“Uh...yeah. I just liked beating up the monsters.”
Luna misses the memo as she nods quickly, clapping her hands quietly together. “Yeah, that part was really great. You could do so much with like the different specs, and you really could play the kind of game YOU wanted to play…”
Miguel chuckles good-naturedly before tapping Luna on the nose, halting her exposition dump and forcing her to look cross-eyed at the finger.
“Alright, alright kiddo. You remember way more about that game than I do but I’ll tell you what, maybe next time we have some downtime, we can talk about it more? But I just wanted to have this little talk to give you a few pointers. I should be getting back to work now.”
Luna stands and passes Miguel a friendly nod. “Sure! I can’t wait until we talk about it again. Uh, are you going to cook anything tonight?”
Miguel taps his finger on his chin, thinking. “Eh...I don’t think so. Help yourself. It’ll probably be really late before I get done this time.”
Luna nods. “Okay Mr. Morales. Goodnight!”
Miguel smiles. “Goodnight.”
Luna leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Miguel waits a moment, gets up to the door, locks it and then moves back to his computer desk, pulling up his chair. He reaches down inside of one of the drawers of his workspace and pulls out the glass panel phone he’d taken from the truck the other night and sets it down next to his computer. Thanks to the charger he’d stolen along with it, he powered up the device and had spent the last couple of days cracking the touch screen password. It was a lock that involved sliding your finger over specific blocks to make some sort of shape. Through sheer trial and error he finally found out the combination to open up the phone, and while he was out today, he picked up a cable that would allow him to seamlessly transfer documents from the phone to his computer.
After initializing the process, Miguel grabs his own phone and scrolls through his contacts. Finding the one he wanted, he pressed the small panel and the phone dials, a familiar ring tone buzzing in his ear. A masculine voice picks up the phone.
“Well if it isn’t one of my best dudes! Hey man, what can I get for ya?”
Miguel smiles.
“Mr. Dragon...has my special order gotten here yet?”
Chapter 10
Repeat Customers
Silvernest is home to Ravenport’s rich and famous, judging by the elaborate iron fencing, expansive houses and meticulously maintained yards that were featured prominently in the neighborhood. Cars were left unlocked in the knowledge that if any ruffian dared to steal it, a new car was but a phone call and a few mouse clicks away. As a result, Miguel loathed visiting this place and resolved to never spend more time in it than he had to.
A blanket of twilight sweeps across Ravenport as Miguel drives into Silvernest, already annoyed that he was here. Trying to do good police work in this area of town was nigh impossible, mostly because those that did end up getting caught could weasel out of it either with cash or connections. While in some cases it could be a financial boon for the department, it was aggravating morally. What was the point of the law if people could just wave currency or politics to make it not exist?
Miguel’s SUV slows down in front of one manor in particular that had a Chinese dragon insignia within the ironwork of the fence. The gate is locked, but there is a small speaker with a button on it that was within arm’s length if one was sitting in a car. Miguel rolls down his window and presses the talk button.
“Hey. It’s Miguel. Here to pick up my special order?”
A friendly voice picks up after a brief pause.
“Oh hey, bro! Sure, I’ll buzz you in. Ah...park your car and come meet me in my workshop. I’ll bring it out.”
The intercom cuts off as the slow rattling of the heavy iron gate rolls open, allowing Miguel to drive inside. The driveways length wasn’t too long, but it split into two paths; one leading into the manor proper likely for Kenneth’s cars, and another leading to the side of the house near his workshop. Miguel pulls up and parks, heading around to the back of the home.
Passing a wary eye to the elaborate swimming pool that overshadowed most of the manicured backyard. Miguel opens the side door and steps inside. Kenneth’s workshop, even to the uninitiated, is quite impressive. Numerous mechanical stations and computer consoles dominate the far wall, almost none of which Miguel recognized. A mechanized hand hangs from the ceiling, the mount of which had its own grid of track for movement. A large table is in the center of the room with multiple parts and pieces for a multitude guns from traditional ballistics weaponry to newfangled laser rifles. The other sides of the walls were dedicated to Kenneth’s tools, with some of them hanging fro
m the walls with small labels on them and even more found in some drawers and cabinets.
Kenneth walks in the room not long after Miguel with a huge smile on his face. The Asian man is little shorter and slimmer than Miguel is but his eccentricity more than makes up for his stature. He wears a red, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt with white flowers on it with knee-length, baggy khaki shorts. His hair is wild, spiked up intentionally and each tip frosted with blonde coloring. A pair of expensive shades sit on his face, and he wears a pair of designer basketball shoes despite Miguel being certain that the man has never seen a court in his life.
“Bro! It’s really good to see you man! I was jus’ fixin up some dinner, but I always got time for you. So yeah, you wanted your special order right?”
Miguel nods slowly. “You said it was all ready to go?”
Kenneth walks over towards one of the cabinets and reaches down to open it, slinging out a large black briefcase and setting it out on the counter for Miguel to look at.
“Uh...you got time for me to install the other thing on ya real quick?”
Miguel shrugs at him. “It only takes like, a minute right?”
“Yeah. Just gotta switch out the hand and put in some insulation and you are good to go my dude.”
Miguel takes his right hand and grabs his mechanical arm. He holds it steady while he starts rotating his shoulder in a very specific set of peculiar movements. As soon as he finishes the last one, his arm pops off entirely, with Miguel shuddering intensely in discomfort. He holds it out for Kenneth to take.
“Alright, but hurry up. I don’t like the feeling of being disarmed.”
Kenneth takes the arm with a bright smile on his face, but as soon as he starts to say something, Miguel holds up a finger to his mouth.
“Don’t. Say it.”
Kenneth’s smile slowly fades as he rolls his eyes and walks past him. He heads towards one of his mechanical stations, the thing looking like a black copy machine with a much heavier lid. He opens it up and slides Miguel’s arm inside of it, closing it again.
Ravenport: Luna's Awakening Page 13