green thumbs | [niko&patricia]

[pup]

niko

My eyes open and my head continues its steady thrumming. Placing a hand to my face, I push back my hair and let out a soft groan of discomfort. The hangover was expected after last night, but it was certainly not welcome. Turning slowly, careful not to further hurt my tender head, the clock's numbers are barely recognizable through my squinted eyes. "Shit," I mutter. If I didn't move soon, I would be late to my first day.

Despite the welcoming comfort of my sheets, I push myself up and force my unwilling body to throw on a new set of clothes. Making my way to the mirror, I rub my eyes and stare, willing myself to look less disheveled. Taking my comb, I sculpt my hair before deeming myself acceptable. Making my way downstairs, I lock eyes silently with my dad in the kitchen for a moment before walking out the door. We had nothing to say to each other today.

---

The warehouse in front of me is buzzing with noise of people talking. It was a stark change from the oil rigs swarming with peacekeepers who watched our every movement and listened to our every word. When I signed up for this job, they told me it would just be mostly physical, putting pieces of machinery together. It sounded similar to a day getting the oil rigs running.

The whispers about this factory, however, told a story much different from that of the oil rigs. For one, there were a lot less explosions threatening to take your life. And, apparently, you didn't need to walk away each day with a face smeared in the disgusting-smelling substance. The pay was also definitely better which is always a plus. Apparently there was some big money and names backing the project.

Wind turbines.

I knew what they were, but, in all honesty, turning wind into energy sounded like a lunacy. I was here for the pay and to not fear blowing up with one wrong step.

Pushing my way into the door, I'm met with loud chattering and the noise of whirring tools. A team of workers are carrying a large blade for a turbine past me, keeping each other steady.

I look around, trying to find anyone who looks more official than the others. They just told me to show up, and that I'd learn more when I made it to the factory. The first person that catches my eye is a peacekeeper standing by the entrance. As always, their black visor sends shivers down my spine. Definitely not the person to talk to.

The suited officer didn't even seem to be paying attention to me, the newcomer walking in. Instead, they seemed to have their gaze locked on one person. I followed the direction of the peacekeeper's helmet to a red-haired woman. She seemed a bit more official than the others; something about the way she carried herself denoted authority and that she just knew what was going on amidst the chaos.

Something about her was oddly familiar, itching at the back of my mind, but all I knew was that I needed to figure out what was going on.

Walking up to her, I look at the complex plans on the wall next to her. White lines sketched on an oversized blue page showed the huge system they were trying to create.

"Excuse me." I said, raising my voice above the hubbub of work, trying to catch her attention. "This is my first day and they didn't tell me much besides just to show up, can you point me in the right direction?"

rook