#Goggle has way too much lore around her for a silly writing exercise

[shaperaverse-brainrot]

I have some Dolls of New Albion OCs, and I wrote a short little story (less than 1k) about them to practice writing original characters (I have a postie oc fic I'm working on - might post the WIP of it here at some point.

But anyway! Have some Voodoopunk lesbian messes!

The city of New Albion never slept, but under the stars, it was at least quiet. The drone of factories and the rattle of late night cabs sang the citizens a lullaby, promises of a peaceful sleep, and a restful night.

Nothing like the Voodoopunk party happening just a few doors and tunnels away, that had made the very ground seem to vibrate under Goggle's feet, make her bones feel as though they were going to burst out through her skin.

They were thankful for the chill of the night air in their lungs, as they hooked their feet under the railings of the bridge they were standing on. The New Albion waterfront had always been one of her favourite places in the city, watching small steamboats go by, and kicking stray pebbles into empty water below, watching carefully as they crashed into the streaming water below, sending ripples cascading through the currents.

She was even more thankful that the Voodoopunks decided to host a party near the waterfront. A breath of fresh air was always welcome, especially when the air in the cramped underground gathering of young punks was so often infused with the scent of alcohol and other substances. Still, it allowed her to get into close proximity with the dolls, spend time with her friends. Besides, the party would still be there when they caught their breath, and the night was still young… by Voodoopunk standards, at least.

She was distracted from her thoughts by the sound of the door to the VP hideout, the rattling of it opening and closing making her grip to the railing even though she had no real danger of falling.

The woman that walked through it was covered in the bright paint of the Voodoopunks, a dazzling red covering her eyes and lips, almost seeming to shine in the dim light of amber streetlights.

Goggle pointedly avoided eye contact as the woman approached, taking a spot next to her on the bridge, and searching in pockets of a small skirt for something, which she brought out, lit, and put to her lips, giving a puff. Goggle didn't turn to gaze at the smoke from her lips dispersing into the air.

They'd seen the woman around the Voodoopunk tunnels she’d been in, her bright hair unmistakable, even if it changed colour every few weeks, but they'd never spoken to her. Never tried to initiate conversation, as much as she'd given yearnful gazes in her direction.

No, romance was certainly not for Goggle. Not in the slightest. Not when they stuttered over their own words and wanted to cry when someone looked directly in their eyes.

“You're one of the newbies, right?” The woman asked, and Goggle gazed at her spare hand, at the nails with neon, chipped paint that were tapping against the metal railing, making a pleasant clinking noise.

“I guess.” Goggle said, forcing her eyes away. She wasn't that new. Not anymore. They'd been a Voodoopunk for a few weeks now.

The woman grinned, giving a little, overdramatic wave.

“I'm Clementine. The life of the god-damned party.”

Goggle shifted slightly on their feet. They couldn't quite tell whether the woman - whether Clementine was making fun of her, or laughing with her, or simply whether she was always like this to people she'd never met.

“I'm-”

“Goggle. Yes, I know. The Doll-Eye gives it away.”

Goggle pointedly turned their gaze back to the water beneath them, to the twisting currents and swirling motion that reflected the golden streetlights.

"Hey, come on, I didn't mean to tease you.” Clementine said, moving closer, slightly too close to Goggle’s personal space, thank you.

Goggle turned to face her, and immediately cast her gaze back to the water.

She was… even prettier, up close, without the distraction of other tasks and people trying to talk, and Goggle couldn't help but feel a blush crawl up their neck.

“Y’know, I heard you tinker with dolls. Give them weird modification and stuff. That's cute.” Clementine said, reaching over and lightly patting Goggle on the head, laughing softly when Goggle hid their head in their hands.

But it… wasn't a cruel laugh. Not anything near.

“Shut up.” Goggle mumbled, their voice lacking the sharp bite that should've come with the words.

Clementine hummed, and the pair stood in silence for a long moment, Clementine finishing the cigarette in her hand.

“You know, Goggle.” Clementine said, her voice quieter than Goggle had ever heard it, the confidence she usually spoke with replaced with something more… genuine. “It's loud in there. And there's like… a bajillion people chanting dollar oh oh,” She waved her hands as she imitated the dancers, who, even outside usual rituals, clung to their familiar chant. “What do you say we go exploring? New Albion's a giant place, and I know a few places you might like.”

Goggle looked at her, and they knew the confusion was evident on their face. Didn't she want to go back in? Enjoy the party? What was her motive in spending time alone, with her, of all people?

Unless…

Her motive was the same motive Goggle had to stare at the water, calm down from the dizzy air and piercing shouts.

“We could even look for abandoned doll parts, hide from police in the dead of night”. Clementine suggested, and Goggle nodded, a smile spreading across her face.

Clementine offered a hand, and Goggle took it, the woman's chipped nails clinging onto the metal of Goggle’s glove.

This seemed like a delightful turn of events.