Faust's Bargain Bins

The first chorus of 745 sticky, by 100 gecs, plays.

Goddamn

Awas, pinching the bridge of her nose.

What the fuck?

Indri screams his exasperation to the heavens.

Feel like I'm not good enough

Awas and Indri sprint away from a tumbleweed. Its bulbous, translucent body blocks the cave tunnel behind them, flowing to saturate the crevices in the walls as it drags itself forward on a hundred arms and legs. Loose rocks leave long tears in its skin, revealing the inner layers of striated, inches-thick calluses. Long, bloody fingers and toes claw at the tunnel walls or thrash uselessly in the air from nonsensical explosions of elbows and knees. The tumbleweed’s bottom jaw dangles feet below its fist-sized black eyes, swaying gently as it moves.

Get off of me, I swear I'll do it all

Awas and Indri argue, still running from the tumbleweed. Blue light streams from the long, pointed tip of Awas’s polearm, its crescent-shaped blade, and the short, heavy spike on the bottom. Black light rolls off one of Indri’s rapiers, exposing layers of stains on the tunnel walls. Bright white light stabs from his other sword. Awas makes an aggravated downward gesture with her free hand. Indri rolls his eyes and flicks the white rapier to a dimmer setting.

Do it all, 

Awas frantically shouts instructions as she fights to keep a tumbleweed’s bottom jaw pinned with her polearm. Pink slime leaks from deep stab wounds in the tumbleweed’s head and neck. One of its hands lashes out at her face. She jerks her head back, swearing. The tumbleweed’s fingernails miss her eye, but leave long, ugly scratches down her cheek.

do it all

Awas’s scratches have stopped bleeding, but dried blood crusts her hairline and shadows her jaw. She crouches in front of a plant growing from a patch of gravel at the base of a tunnel wall. It looks like a begonia, with purple, white-frosted leaves, but it sways like it’s submerged in invisible water. Awas reaches out to pull it up, then swears and snaps her hand back. She examines her glove. The leather where she touched the plant has bubbled and twisted like tar on hot asphalt.

I can swear I can do it all

Awas, back in Halk, is rapidly sketching a floor plan on the back of a receipt. She looks up and nonchalantly crumples the receipt into her pocket. She’s wiped most, but not all, of the blood off her face.

Do it all,

Awas passes a paper bag to San Pettru. He gives her a small box wrapped in thermal foil and secured with a zip tie, which she clips to a lanyard around her neck and drops down her vest.

 do it all

Awas leans on her polearm at the end of a blind alley, blocking the exit for someone wearing a long, thin plague-doctor mask with a hoodie-jean jacket combo. They look over Awas’s shoulder. She turns around to see a woman in a matching mask. Awas nods to her with a strained smile.

I can swear I can do it all

Awas sits in a waiting room. Her face is still bloody, her eyeshadow is smeared, and she’s wearing only one glove. Lenna opens the door, sees her, and stops. Amusement and alarm chase each other across her face. Awas smiles at her automatically before she remembers how she looks. They stare at each other.