You saw her from the windowsill where you leaned on mossy degrading wood.
It had been hit by the humidity and grime of the undercity, where nothing could escape corruption, including you.
For years, you had tried to find an honest job picking at junk in search of recyclables, carrying coal or freshwater across the city. But the pay was never enough for you to support Angela, your little sister, and to pay for her school fees.
In fact, you really had to bust your ass to bribe her way into a boarding school on the topside. But it would pay off, later on. With the education she received and the connections she could make, you hoped she could live her whole life up there and forget that you were buried in the grime down here. And one day she could make a new, different life for herself. For now, you had to pay the boarding fees, meal pass, and anything else they threw at you. And harsh fees meant hard work. You accepted the job without even reading the description; because all you saw was the paycheck.
Now you were hauling bags of metal around the city or guarding gallons of shimmer for the most disreputable overlord in the city.
In a way, it was funny because the job would probably kill you, and honestly, you hadn't ever lived. You never travelled, never loved, and didn't have too many friends. Your whole life had been spent trying to support Angela. In fact, you barely even knew your own name.
"MC, get your ass over here." At least your co-workers kept it in mind. Dranger, a bulky man over six feet, called you over. Your 'team' was carrying barrels of shimmer into a cargo hatch for transport. You were supposed to keep watch from the window, but another member had grown too tired, and now sat sprawled with his back against the wall, she avoided your gaze as the big boss called you over to do the other heavy lifting. He was just being cruel to the newbie, a supposed right of passage, though perhaps that was one of the reasons no one stuck in the job for long. You made eye contact and held it for a second before you looked away and walked downstairs. But she carried on watching you, still sprawled with her gun in her hand as though it was a toy. Her eyes stayed on your back, completely focused. It made you slightly nervous, an alien emotion.
In all honesty, you were glad to climb deeper into the ship. You could break Jinx's line of sight, and you could stop looking at her. Maybe that's why she was staring, revenge for the last half an hour you had spent glancing at her. Perhaps it made her equally uncomfortable. You made a mental note not to make eye contact with her again. After all she was working out of boredom and only when she wanted to. Which meant that she was not the kind of person you could afford to piss off. Placing your hands on the bottom of the barrel, you managed to lift it onto the others. Your view was slightly blocked by the ramp into the dark, but it didn't matter much, you knew where to go to get out. But deep in the flying ships belly, a terrible feeling passed over you. Among clouds of gas from broken or damaged barrels, your foot sank into the ground, you wished that it was a slight slip from a leak or the hummidity, but it was not. A pressure plate had sent a metal ball speeding towards you. You stood still, too shocked to move, and it barely missed you, revealing the bottom of the shape where a neon monkey was drawn.
"What the hell." You said taking a step back. From the shadows, Jinx came towards you.
"You didn't even flinch."
You realized your face must have looked calm, Angela always teased you for being unable to show emotion. "But seriously, I thought you'd say something, like 'oh no! my face!' or something... but I guess some people don't have a great sense of humour." She had started out with the sentence jokingly but by the end there was a slight gleen in her eyes, interest perhaps. She drew her pistol and held it under your chin. "You really should react somehow, thats when people show sympathy." But she soon laughed, throwing her hands down with a dramatic sigh. "Seriously nothing, has anyone told you that you're really boring?"
She began to walk away.
"Well, what should I have done?" You retorted, throwing out your arms. She turned around and began to raise her arm, ready to point it at you again, probably as a jest, you hoped. But instead, you dashed forward and grabbed her hand, pushing the gun towards the floor. She tilted her head and smiled before trying to trip you with a hook kick. Dodging to the left, you caught her off-balance, and with your hand, you took her gun. She landed on her butt with an "oof" and sent the dust on the floor flying. You reached out your arm, gun in hand to her, "See I appreciate some slapstick comedy." She grabbed her gun and stood up. For a moment you thought she might shoot you but instead she smirked and put it in the holster by her belt.
"Well that was a reaction." She said with a smile. "I'll get you later."
She walked up and out the ship, perhaps to find someone who would react better to her pranks, or perhaps to create a plan for revenge. But you couldn't help but touch your calloused fingers and think about how soft her hand was.