#like we got cochise ajax and cleon all going out to a bar for ajax’s birthday

[mega-banette]

Ok it’s time to subject you all to my new and improved entirely made up Swan backstory.

So I’m thinking Swan comes from an abusive household. Growing up, the only person who had her back was her older sister. Who, upon turning 18, woke up a 13 year old Swan in the middle of the night and told her to pack a bag and run.

Her sister was able to get a job as a waitress ok, but she barely made enough to cover the rent of their new apartment. Swan tried to get a newspaper round but was turned down. So she ended up resorting to theft. She was good, but not good enough resulting in her doing a few stints in juvie.

On her last stint when she’s 16/17, she meets a girl who takes pity on her and teaches her how to fight. The two get very close (close to the point of Swan realising she’s a lesbian) and Swan promises to get in touch with her on the outside.

Swan makes good on this promise and at first her sister is glad she’s making friends, but then she catches the two kissing and her opinion dramatically changes. She says a lot of things to Swan and basically tells her to get out. So, once again, Swan packs a bag and she runs.

At this point Swan is so confused and betrayed. Because her sister had supported her through everything, on some level she assumed this would just be another part of her to accept. Yet, here she was homeless because of it. Swan then starts to think that if her own sister can’t accept that she’s gay then no one will.

A little while after this Swan gets picked up by the Warriors after meeting Cleon. Now I am a believer that Cleon had a little sister who died. So because Swan reminds her so much of her little sister she subconsciously takes on an older sister role in Swan’s life. Which, after Cochise points it out, becomes far more conscious

So then we have Cleon ‘this is my second chance at having a little sister I can’t fail at protecting her again nothing bad can happen to her ever’ vs Swan ‘this is my second chance at having an older sister I can’t do anything to make her hate me I need to repress my sexuality’

Obviously Cleon doesn’t give a fuck that Swan’s gay but it takes Swan a while to realise that.

[alexihollis]

Boys: Based on a post by @xaiverscorner

"Hey, boys."

Fox was going to kill Ajax.

"How's it goin'?" Ajax asked with a sly smile, leaning on the hightop table, one arm oh-so-casually slung on the back of Fox's chair. That same arm that oh-so-casually shoved off the arm of Chase, who had looked to be working up the courage to move that arm to Fox's shoulder.

"Uh- Good," Chase's eyes were wider than before and he swallowed as he looked to his other two friends. Who seemed similarly nervous.

"What are we drinking?" Ajax asked, gesturing to the four glasses in front of them. "You get my friend here a drink?"

"Yeah. Yeah, do you want anything?" Reese asked. He had been the first one to come over the table, start chatting with Fox, before pointing out his friend over by the bar, Chase. Jared had come along, too, but he hadn't spoken much.

"Nah, Fox and I go way back, I'm just gonna," without even finishing her sentence Ajax took a sip of Fox's drink. What the fuck was she doing. "Whoo! Strong."

It really wasn't. Jenkins watered down his vodka.

"Yep. Definitely got alcohol in there," Ajax nodded. Then, oh-so-fucking-casually, "You know she's seventeen, right?"

"Uh-"

"Well-

"We didn't-"

"Get out of here," Ajax said and they scattered. God-fucking-damnit.

"Seriously?" Fox complained as Ajax slid into one of the abandoned seats. "They were nice."

"If they were really nice, they would have at least known that they were giving someone underage alcohol."

"You give me alcohol all the time!"

"Yeah. Knowing you're seventeen. What are you doing here alone, anyway? Cleon know you're out?" Ajax asked.

Fox bristled. "I'm almost an adult, you know."

Ajax barked out a laugh. "That's a no if I've ever heard one."

"She's on a date," Fox muttered, resting her chin in one hand and digging at the table top with her other.

"Huh. Swan?"

"Went to Over the Rainbow." As a gay bar, they were very strictly 21+. The police hadn't raided much since the Stonewall Riots ten years prior, but the bars remembered and left nothing to chance.

"Oh, yeah, stole my girlfriend, too. And Cochise and Cowgirl, though god knows why they wanted to go," Ajax said.

Fox shrugged, "Cowgirl likes the drag queen performers." Then, "Why aren't you there?"

"Was running a job for Cleon. Just got back, actually. Was swinging by Cleon's to drop off some stuff when I saw your pretty face through the window," Ajax gestured to the large window next to them. "You shouldn't be going to bars on your own."

"Why does everyone treat me like some little kid?" The clenched fist that she had previously been resting on hit the tabletop louder than she meant it, rattling the abandoned drinks and catching attention from nearby patrons for just a second.

"Bitch, it's not about you being a little kid, it's about you being a woman. And a hot one at that, what if one of those fuckers put something in your drink?" Ajax asked.

"You think I can't tell when someone puts something in my drink? I used to do this all the damn time!"

"Cool. Glad to hear you almost got drugged on a semi-regular basis, how the fuck does this not prove my point?"

"I can handle myself," Fox said.

Ajax narrowed her eyes. "Then why join up?"

Fox blinked. "What?"

"If you can handle yourself, if you don't need anyone's help, if you don't want to follow a leader, why become a Warrior at all?" Ajax asked.

"That wasn't..." Ajax's words cut through any momentum Fox had gained. "I like being a Warrior."

"And being a Warrior means Cleon's got rules and one of those rules is don't do stupid shit." Ajax waved a hand around her, gesturing to the bar and Fox.

"You do stupid shit all the time."

"Why do you think I'm always in trouble?" Ajax shook her head, standing up from the table. "Come on. We can put on a movie or something. I think Swan's got some tapes we can steal."

Unfortunately for Fox, that night did not mark the end of Ajax's adventures of chasing boys away from Fox. She made it a sort of hobby.

"If they can't handle me giving them a bit of heat, they ain't good enough for ya," she would say.

Cleon would roll her eyes. Cowgirl tried to help Fox out with a few, but none could withstand Ajax's glares. At one point, Fox tried to get Swan to help.

"No."

"What? What do you mean 'no'?" Fox asked, confused.

Swan shrugged from where she sat on the couch, sipping her coffee. "We talked about it. We have an agreement."

"What do you mean you have an agreement?!"

Swan didn't explain further.

As much as Fox grumbled about Ajax's behavior, though, she couldn't help but think that Ajax would have sniffed out the Bizzies all the way back in Union Square as their small fraction of Warriors scurried down the damn fire escape. She'd have to thank Ajax for looking out for her all those years, Fox thought as her feet finally hit the street.

They needed to make it back to Coney first, though.

--------

I hurt my own feelings with that last couple of lines.

[alexihollis]

Paying Your Dues

A short thing I wrote, trying to get a better hold on the dynamics and everything. More stuff to come probably! The brain worms really got a hold on this one lol.

“Swan? That you?” Swan heard Cleon call from the kitchen as she shut the door to the apartment behind her, locking the three dead-bolts and hooking the chain. It had been a few months since the Van Cortland Park meeting, but Cleon still insisted on the higher level of security. 

“Just until the Riffs give the all-clear,” she would say, but…Well, Swan did not have high-hopes that that would ever happen. Luther’s damage ran deep and Rogues kept popping up as new recruits of other gangs in ways that made everyone uneasy. The Orphans alone seemed to take half that the Riffs did not pick up the morning after Cyrus’ death, though Mercy insisted Sully was too dumb to be much of a threat. At least Masai seemed…weirdly fascinated with Cleon in a way that Swan did not want to interrogate too deeply. Or at all. 

“Yeah,” Swan called back as she shrugged out of her winter jacket, hanging it up with the beanie she stole from Cowgirl – who bitched, but had an extra hat anyway and Swan was freezing, winter weather really settling in the week after Thanksgiving. If Cowgirl cared that much, she would cross the street from her, Cochise, and Rembrandt’s apartment and steal it back later. 

Cleon appeared in the hallway, slouching against the wall, arms crossed. “Cool. We need to talk about something.”

That took Swan’s attention away from her boots as she straightened back up to look at Cleon, one boot off and one on. “What’s wrong? Is it Ajax?”

After three months, Ajax finally came home. Not even two weeks out, she was still jumpy. Quiet in an unnerving way. Cleon had yet to send her out on an errand and Swan didn’t know how long Ajax would let that slide. 

“No, no, she’s fine. Or- you know what I mean. Rembrandt came by and stole her earlier. No clue what they’re gonna be up to, but at least she’s out of her bedroom.” Cleon shook her head, “Anyway, no. It’s about Mercy- Nothing’s wrong.”

Swan’s heart started beating again. “For fuck’s sake, Cleon!” She threw a glove at Cleon’s head, that she easily ducked, laughing like an asshole. 

“For the love of God, I got her a bartending job two blocks away, will you chill out about her not being in your sight for two seconds?” Yeah. This had been Swan’s life for the past three months. Because her Warrior sisters were assholes. Cleon pushed off the wall, “Come on. I made coffee, we can talk in the kitchen.”

The mug was warm in Swan’s hands and the coffee even warmer as she took a too large drink, barely missing blistering. It suited the cooler weather.

“So, what do we need to talk about?” Swan asked when it became obvious that Cleon wasn’t going to start. Which was strange, because Cleon was not exactly known for her indecisiveness. 

Cleon sighed heavily before saying, “Have you noticed Mercy doesn’t have any clothes?”

Immediately, Swan’s eyebrows tried to merge with her hairline. “Uh…?”

“Her own clothes,” Cleon said.

And Swan went to disagree. Mercy had her own clothes – her color vest, for one, that she had been beyond excited about when Cleon gave it to her. There was a red flannel that she wore all the time. That she definitely stole from Cowgirl, now that Swan was thinking about it. The t-shirt Mercy was wearing the night of the meeting that somehow survived with minimal staining. Her jeans. Her sneakers and the zip-up hoodie. She wore those clothes a lot, when she wasn’t stealing Swan’s stuff. 

She mostly stole Swan’s stuff. Not that Swan was complaining. It started early on, with Mercy rolling out of bed and snagging one of Swan’s t-shirts while Swan half-heartedly complained about thievery to make Mercy laugh. 

When Mercy started working at the bar, Cochise had leant her some appropriate clothes. A small black dress. The tiniest skirt that Swan had ever seen. A pair of similarly sized shorts. A few black t-shirts. It had mostly surprised Swan how many clothes Cochise had to lend in the first place and it had been weeks now. 

Huh.

That was about the time a thick white envelope was placed on the table in front of Swan. At her confusion, Cleon motioned for Swan to open it. It was filled with cash.

“What is this?” Swan asked.

“Mercy’s dues,” Cleon said. 

Swan flipped through the cash. Did the mental math. “This is at least four times what she should be paying. When did she even start paying dues?”

“I didn’t ask for it,” Cleon said. “She gave it to me last night. I stopped by Jenkins earlier. He said that’s practically all the money she’s made at the bar, tips and paychecks.”

“And what did Mercy say? When she gave you this?”

“That she wanted to pay her dues. Contribute to the Warriors. Said thank you for getting her the job and letting her stay here and food and everything,” Cleon said. “She asked if this covered it and when I said, yes, it more than covered it, she asked me to put whatever was left towards your dues.”

“I don’t pay dues,” Swan said. 

The only ones who really did were members who did above-the-counter work, members who made the bulk of their money outside of the gang, which, technically, would put Mercy in that category, but Cleon usually waited a good six months before even broaching the topic. And even then, there were a lot of other circumstances that surrounded whether someone paid into what was less “dues” and more a communal money pot for rent for the various Warrior apartments, food, and, in certain circumstances, a slightly better lawyer. Which, considering Ajax’s recent run-in, did mean that pot could use a bit of boosting, but they still had a comfortable cushion. While Swan expected Cleon to ask Mercy for dues at some point, it was still early and this amount?

“I know.” Amazing. Swan loved it when Cleon talked in circles. Taking pity on her, Cleon continued. “She said that she wanted to pay back whatever you had paid for her over these few months. Said that she didn’t want to just be A Girlfriend anymore, but a fully-fledged member. Which seemed like a lot of emotion that you are in a better position to help her with while you try to convince her to spend her damn money on herself.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that,” Swan sighed, rubbing a hand down her face as she tried to think of where to even begin with that conversation. 

Because this was going to be about a lot more than money. They had been skirting around this conversation since the moment Mercy handed Swan her Orphans bandana to make the Molotov cocktail. Like when Swan dragged an overly drunk Mercy home from a house party at one of the lower-level Warriors apartment because someone (Vermin, definitely Vermin) told her it was part of the more traditional initiation. When it came to talking about herself, Mercy got cagy. Not many Warriors liked talking about family, Swan steered as far from the subject as she could, but Mercy wouldn’t even give a damn neighborhood.

Girls like Mercy joined the Warriors before, usually young enough that it made Cleon nervous and so jumpy they refused to give a name until they earned their name. They wanted to burn their old lives to ashes and throw them in the ocean off Coney Island. Swan respected that, she all but did it herself, but they always made Cleon nervous. Until recently, Swan didn’t really understand why – they made some of the best soldiers, fighting with everything in them and then some. Swan loved helping them learn to fight.

Swan loved helping Fox learned to fight. 

Then Swan learned what all that desire to prove yourself, to throw yourself into your new life and protect anyone you got close to could lead to. 

Losing Fox nearly killed her. Losing Mercy would finish the job.

“I’ll talk to her,” Swan repeated. 

Cleon smiled. Leaned over and ruffled her hair, which Swan half-heartedly protested. “It’ll be fine. And tell Rembrandt to take her shopping. The poor girl’s too pretty to be stuck in your clothes. Or your taste in clothes.”

“Fuck off, Cleon,” Swan grumbled. 

The next few hours found Swan in her and Mercy’s bedroom. She tried to distract herself by reading. That failed. Turned on the radio. Got sick of the radio. Tried to watch TV in the living room. Got bored of the news that Cleon insisted on watching for whatever reason. In general, she was being ridiculous. 

The hours leading up to a rumble? Swan was calm. Collected. Helping their newer members chill the fuck out and not lose their heads before the fight began. 

Hours leading up to a potentially emotionally charged conversation with her girlfriend, though? That was the time to panic. Perfect sense. One hundred percent logical. 

Swan didn’t hear the door open. 

She barely heard when Mercy said, “Babe, what are you doing?”

Swan turned on her heel, mid-pace to see Mercy looking at her quizzically as she closed the bedroom door behind her. And said the first thing that popped into her head: “You need new clothes.”

Mercy blinked and looked down at herself, then back to Swan. “I thought you liked this skirt.”

It was Cochise’s skirt. Swan loved that skirt. That was not the point. “Sit down.”

Mercy sat down on the very edge of the bed. “Are you just gonna stand there?”

Swan sat next to her, also perched on the edge, and just far enough that they didn’t touch. They rarely sat like that, especially in their room. It felt alien. 

“Is this about me giving my dues to Cleon?” Mercy asked. 

“She didn’t ask you for them. You don’t owe her any,” Swan said.

Mercy sighed. “Look, it isn’t that I’m not grateful, but…I want to contribute. I’m a Warrior. I’m a member just like anyone else.”

“You are a Warrior, this isn’t about that.”

“Then, why is Cleon being so weird about it?” Mercy asked.

“Because you don’t owe dues. Yes, you do have an actual job and you don’t join us on jobs or anything, but Cleon usually gives a six-month grace period to new members before talking about it,” Swan tried to explain.

“Are those other new members usually living in a Warriors funded apartment and eating Warriors funded food?” She cocked an eyebrow in a way that made it seem like she thought she had won the argument.

Unfortunately for Mercy: “Yes. Usually.” 

“What?”

“Cleon has a thing about picking up strays. Remember?” Swan said. Referencing herself, but then immediately: “Not that you’re a stray.”

Mercy laughed. “Well, I did follow you home.”

Swan chuckled with her. “You did in fact do that.”

A short period of silence followed after their laughter subsided. Mercy sighed, deeply. “I just don’t want people thinking I’m sleeping my way through here. Or that I have it easier than anyone else.” She aimed a slight glare at Swan, “You already refuse to put me through initiation properly.”

Oh, for the love of- “You went through more than enough. You have fucking Ajax vouching for you. You don’t have anything more to prove to anyone.” Then, a thought: “Is someone giving you shit?”

Swan could fix that. Easily. 

“No one here, I just-” Mercy let out a frustrated huff. “I’ve done that before. I’ve been that girl. I hated it. It was horrible. I don’t want to feel like that again.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that,” Swan said. “But…you know, treating you like any other Warrior includes not making you pay an absolutely ridiculous amount of dues.”

“All right, all right. Is Cleon giving it back to me or something?” Mercy asked.

Swan gestured over to their dresser. “It’s with the socks.”

“Thank you.”

“I promise people don’t think that about you,” Swan said. “You deserve to have your own things with the money you earned at Jenkins’ bar.” Swan narrowed her eyes slightly at the very familiar red sweater Mercy was wearing. “And I deserve for you to stop stealing my shit.”

“Mm, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mercy scooted back a little further onto the bed, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. 

“Oh, really?”

“Not at all.”

And, really, Swan should have probably thought through the having-an-important-conversation-on-their-bed a bit more, because how else did she think this was going to end? A good while later found them both on their backs, catching their breaths, in considerably less clothing than before. After a moment, Swan pulled their blanket up past their shoulders as Mercy moved onto her side, then tucked herself against Mercy’s back, face nestled in the small of her shoulder. 

“You know, considering the conversation topic, this didn’t really help your argument,” Mercy said. 

Swan rolled her eyes. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Why should I get my own clothes when these seem to be working just fine?”

Swan choked back a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I try.”

…

“Maybe keep the skirt, though.”

“Cochise said she doesn’t want it back anyway.”