Semi Fantastic Bounty Hunter Thing? (Additions and Edited for Clarity)

[Gladiolusopening]

I wrote this. I am flexible with it. Does it look fun to anyone? I'm looking for m/m, in the same vein as this, a character in the same troop, another trainee, a mentor-whatever. Throw an idea at me, do a sample reply, ask me questions about the verse, PM me, reply to the thread, whatever, I'm open.

---

It was, officially, too hot for this shit.

He was sticky, mosquitoes were fucking everywhere, and if one more goddamn tourist wanted one more goddamn ‘Mumbo Jumbo Margarita’ with extra mix, he was going to going to shove it up their jiggling jumbo ass. 

“Waiter!”

Bitch did not just snap her fingers at him. No no no. “This is a baked potato.”

Yes it is, you stupid bitch, you ordered a baked potato. “Yes ma’am.”

“I wanted the loaded cheesy fries.”

He flipped to her order. “No ma’am, have it right here. Baked potato, salted, butter.”

“Well. I changed my mind, and don’t you dare charge me extra!”

Without changing the ‘customer service please kill me’ smile, he said, “The loaded cheesy fries are not a standard side and are two dollars extra, as stated on the menu.”

She threw the baked potato in his face.

---

Other than Baked Potato Bitch, the mosquito bites, and the fact that his feet hurt?

Not a bad day. Good tips. But when he got home, it was the usual chaos.

Kids running around. “Where’s Ma?”

“Not home yet,” his sister Gigi said, thrusting something at him. “Look!”

“What’s that?”

“I got that job at the mayor’s office! Doing filing and stuff! Can you sign it for me?” She beamed at him. She wasn’t even sixteen yet, good grief, but that was pretty good money, and something safe and not greasy or sleazy, and he signed with a grin.

“That’s a good girl. Tomas, get the fuck off the table or I will kick your ass.”

“I ain’t got nowhere else to sit.”

“Sit on the floor, goddamn. Fucking sitting on the table like we don’t eat on that.”

Kitty came in with the mail. Kitty was mostly deaf, and sharp as a tack, but since she could barely hear most of the neighbors assumed she was stupid. He enjoyed her signing smart ass remarks behind their backs. She signed hello at him, handing over a large piece of mail. What’s that?

None of your business.

Butthead.

He was pretty sure he knew what it was. Well, at least he didn’t have to wait tables anymore.

And his ma was going to be pissed, but nothing she could do about it now.

---

When she got home, everyone else was sleeping. The little kids slept in her room, Kitty, Gigi and Marta in one, and he, Tomas, and Bear in the other one. But he was sitting up. “Hey Ma. Long day.” She smiled at him. “Saved you dinner.”

“Mi corazón.” They sat together for a little while, then he pushed the open envelope across the table to her. She slapped him, and when he didn’t react, her entire body crumbled. “No. You’re not going.”

“Yes I am. Pays better than the army if I get good at it, I can come home when I need to, less chance I get stuck halfway across the world and never come back.”

“Oh, and if you get your head bitten or blown off, then what?”

“Then they send you money, Ma. Look, I’m going. We can’t keep going like this. Dad isn’t coming back.”

“He-”

He slammed his palm on the table. “Ma, either he’s dead in a ditch somewhere, or he ran off with another woman, or he’s in jail across the ocean, or in the city, but he’s not coming back. There are nine people in this house, counting me, and soon we won't be able keep the lights on! Every month it’s something! Either it’s food or the rent or the water bill or someone’s meds. The car is only gonna last another six months, maybe. Kitty could keep going to school, but they won’t take her at a normal one. You can’t save any money because we spend it all. You don’t go to the doctor even if you think you're dying. And if we don’t pay the rent, you’re gonna end up on the street with seven kids, and then what? I can take care of myself. They can’t. I’m going it whether you like it or not!”

“But...it’s so dangerous.”

“Yeah. I know. But I’m still doing it.”

---

Leaving his siblings was hard. At the station, they hugged him until the last possible second, even the boys. He was the oldest. He’d always been there. He tried to tell them everything he could think of.

Save money. Don’t waste anything. Watch out for each other. I love you. Look respectable.

His mother cried, but she gave him some spending money like he was a kid again. “Ma-”

“It’s just a loan. When you get paid, you send it back to me.”

“Okay. Okay Ma. I love you.” He squeezed her tight.

He grabbed Gigi for a last hug. “Love you. Try and keep an eye on things. Don't go out with any guys."

She slapped him on the shoulder. “Be careful! Write to me!”

The last he saw of them, they were racing the train down the platform.

---

“As of right now, you have no family or friends except for the people here for the next four months. As per your skills assessments and your acceptance packets, you have been placed in the appropriate rank. Training will begin. Should you improve-and survive-you can go up in the rankings!”

Bryar was about to fall asleep at this point, because this was the first bit of actual information in the whole goddamn speech, and after two hours on the train and half a sandwich his focus was going.

The last hour had been some old fat guy talking about bridging the gaps in safety and justice before Ripped Short Hair started talking.

“Some will say you’re bounty hunters. In a way you are. You charge a fee for collecting people. But you’re also killing monsters, collecting bail jumpers, and in some cases executing criminals who are unable or unwilling to be brought in alive. Though you greenshoots are unlikely to encounter anyone like that.”

Oh. Comforting. Not so much.
“After these four months of training, whoever is left will be assigned to a small team, assigned to a particular sector, unless you are needed or requested elsewhere. Let’s see what you’ve got. When I call your name and training group, assemble and then head for your dormitory.”

And they started calling names.

“Lilton, Bryar! Blackroot!” There were six guys and one woman in that group. “Blackroot, dismissed!” No one moved. “I said dismissed!”

Bryar headed for the door; the others followed.
“Uh,” said one of the guys, who looked like he'd been built of out stone and painted. “Where are we going?”

Bryar opened the map from their acceptance packet. “Blackroot is...fucking at the other side of the compound. So. That way. Hopefully there’s food.”

“We don’t eat a meal until dinner, that fat guy said,” said the woman. “Maybe a snack. Lead on, guy smart enough to remember we have maps.”

So he led on, followed by the woman, then the other guys, the massive guy bringing up the rear. Their dorm looked...possibly haunted. None of the others moved to try the door.



Additions for clarity.

This universe is somewhat less modern than our own; no smartphones and no internet, for example, but there is electricity, there are landlines, average person has a toilet and TV.
But most people are paycheck to paycheck, there aren't a lot of social programs, and the gap between rich and poor is fairly large. What aid that there is is provided by private charities.

And plenty of crime and violence. Handling rogue and escaped criminals, and supernatural creatures is, in fact, a well paying job, but that's because not everyone can do it, and the risk of injury or death is high. Not all 'Valkes'  have psychic or magical abilities, but those dormant abilities are tested for and sought out in applicants, and forcibly awakened.

Bryar (yes, the spelling is deliberate, his mother thought it looked cooler) is just old enough to qualify-finished with compulsory education, reasonably healthy, passing exams, and possessing dormant magic. So he's about 19. A mature 19, since he's basically his older siblings' dad and has been hustling for cash (collecting stuff since he was a wee thing, taking jobs) but still. 19, with all that entails.

Do we want to do training? A sudden upset where the trainees are thrown in unprepared, half-trained? Who knows?