sima nb #244 tryout stories - no posting, please!

[Novi]

this is where I'll post all the stories I've written for the aforementioned character <3
please do not post!

[Novi]

Warning: Repo!AU

Get in, extract the Zydrate from the corpses without getting caught, get out fast. Terrance knew the drill. He knew it all too well, having done this a million and some-odd times before.
So why didn't he do it this time?
He'd gotten in just fine, extracted the Zydrate perfectly, and was just on his way out when he paused, ears swiveling like little satellites. He heard the crickets chirping, the sound of a distant cough - probably a nightguard. (Which, by the way, probably should've concerned him, but for some reason, it didn't seem to matter at the time.)
He also heard squeaky hiccups and muffled sobs, and that's what worried him the most.

Terrance never was the caring type - at least, he wouldn't let on that he was the caring type. He was always a "get the job done" sort of guy, and never really showed that he was empathetic towards... Well, anyone, really. As a matter of fact, he seemed rather apathetic towards everyone. Sure, he was friendly and joked a lot - but that didn't necessarily mean he actually truly cared about anyone.

He was quickly snapped out of his thought by the crunching of feet nearby. Immediately, Terrance ducked down and took cover behind the nearest tombstone, breath hitched in his throat. He glanced back slowly, managing to catch a glimpse of a tall figure - the night guard - holding his lantern up and looking around warily.
Terrance would've darted off the second the night guard turned around - of course, had he not noticed the small girl curled up in a ball not even a few yards away from where the night guard was just about to shine his light.
Terrance shouldn't have cared. But something about this kid - this small, dainty, pretty little thing - made him think otherwise. He knew the consequences of being out past the town's designated curfew - she probably didn't. And something about the thought of this kid getting killed sent him into a panic.
But still, Terrance shouldn't have cared. He also shouldn't have stood up and drawn attention to himself, but he did that too.

"Evening, officer!" he chirped coolly, smirking when he heard the town official's frightened squeak. "How are you this fine evening?"
The officer whirled around quickly, holding up his lantern in one hand and firmly gripping his baton in the other. "Freeze!" he barked, green eyes widened in shock that he'd actually found a trespasser. This usually never happened. "D-don't move!"
Terrance chuckled lightly, stepping towards the officer calmly. "Now, now, no need to shout... I'm using my inside voice. Shouldn't you, sir?" he said, making sure to keep his gaze at just the right level so the night guard would think Terrance was staring at him, when in all reality, the graverobber was actually keeping an eye on the frightened little girl.

"I said don't m-move!" the officer shouted again, pulling out his baton and raising it threateningly. "W-what are you doing out here? It's past curfew!"
Terrance raised his brow. "...I'm well aware of that, sir. However, the Shelter was overcrowded tonight. Couldn't find nowhere else to go, so I figured I'd wander a bit. Can't be in too much trouble for that, now, can I?"
A complete and utter lie. The night guard seemed to know it, too, for he stepped forward, gripping the baton tightly. "You know the punishment for being out past curfew," he warned. "And in a graveyard, no less! It's literally suicide to be out here right now!"
The child - whom Terrance had almost forgotten about, up until now - emitted a high-pitched squeak at the word 'suicide.' Terrance's heart stopped as the night guard's ears pricked up. "What in the world...?"

Terrance had to act fast. As the guard turned around, the much larger Sima rushed forward, prying the baton out of the smaller's hand. The night guard yelped, looking back at Terrance, wide-eyed and mouth agape, only to be met with a swift whack to the side of the head.
A yelp escaped the maw of the guard as he crumpled to the ground, unconscious - but not dead. Terrance knew better than to kill an officer of the law. Too much trouble - probably not enough Zydrate, anyways. It wasn't worth it.
Panting softly, still hyped up on adrenaline, Terrance turned his gaze towards the one who had caused him to act so aggressively. Currently, the child was pressed up against the tombstone she'd been hiding behind, eyes widened in fear. Tears streamed down her face as if her eyes held back leaky faucets, and for a moment Terrance felt bad for scaring her.

He stepped forward hesitantly, watching as the girl's breath hitched and she whimpered softly. Terrance took this moment to observe her appearance - which wasn't that unusual, but still, she did look pretty interesting. Her eyes were a dull lavender, tinted red from all the crying she'd been doing, no doubt. Her little black and white dress was tattered and frayed at the sleeves and ends, but the most interesting thing about her was her hair. It was multi-colored - something that normally always caught Terrance's attention, but for a different reason, this time; it was black and white, the colors changing straight down the middle. Almost like yin and yang, in a sense.
Terrance was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the squeaky whines of the child once more. He smiled lightly, crouching down and holding out a hand slowly, trying to show he meant no harm. "Hey kiddo," he cooed softly, watching her calmly. "Ain't nobody gonna hurt you anymore, got that? You're fine, it's okay..."
The little girl paused, unsure if she should trust this strange man or not. On one hand, he did just whack a night guard in the side of the head... But on the other hand, he did save her life in doing so. Plus he had cool hair. That was always a good sign... Okay, usually that was a good sign. In her experiences, at least.

So with that in mind, the child shuffled forward slightly, eyeing Terrance as if he were a scary large dog. Terrance grinned toothily, watching her as he spoke once more. "So what's your name, kiddo? Don't think I've seen you around here before - if I had, I'd probably would've recognized you, y'know?" The child nodded thoughtfully and, after a bout of hesitation, mumbled softly, "M-Mishka... M-my name is M-Mishka..." She paused. "H-who are you?"
Without even thinking, Terrance responded with an automatic, "Just call me Graverobber, kid. Everyone does. And Mishka, huh? That's a nice name for a little lady like yourself."
Mishka smiled bashfully, looking down shyly before glancing up at him again with a curious look on her face. "Wait..." she started. "W-why do people call you Graverobber?"

Terrance grinned and pulled one of the little glass vials out of his bag. "See this, kid? This is called 'Zydrate.'"
Mishka nodded. "I know. M-Mama used to use it sometimes."
"Oh? Where is your mama, if you don't mind me asking?"
Mishka quieted down before glancing over at the tombstone she'd previously been cowering behind. It took Terrance a moment to notice that she was crying again, but before he could do anything, she pointed at the grave and hid her face. "She..."
Terrance slowly looked over at the headstone, which read:

ANYA ROMANOV
1988-2016
"REST IN PEACE, LOVE. YOU WILL BE MISSED."

He grimaced, looking back at Mishka sadly. He reached his hand out to lightly grip her shoulder - to his surprise she did not recoil back. "Hey kiddo, it's cool... No need to be upset, okay? Your mama's in a better place now, okay?"
Mishka nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked back up at Terrance. "Sh-she was all I had left..." she whimpered. "D-Daddy died before I was born, a-and now Ma-Mama's gone... I-I don't have a fa-amily, anymore..."
Terrance sighed and sat down beside her, pulling her into his big, strong arms for a gentle bear hug. "...I don't have a family either, kiddo," he said finally, after a few moments of silence.
Mishka sniffled pathetically, looking up at him curiously. "R-really? ...W-what happened to them?"

Terrance smiled sadly at her and looked up at the sky. He'd trained himself not to cry at the mention of his family, but that didn't mean he didn't get upset over it. "My wife died a while back because of the Repo Man, and just last year I lost my little girl, Sarah, to a terrible sickness."
Mishka blinked and looked down. "I-I'm sorry, Mister Graverobber..."
"Don't worry about it, kiddo. It ain't like it's your fault or nothin'," he sighed, smiling at her.

Mishka smiled back up at him when they heard distant voices - frenzied, panicked, furious voices. Terrance looked up in alarm, narrowing his eyes towards figures a little ways off. "Crap," he muttered. "Crap, crap, crap... Mishka, uh, why don't you come with me, sweetie?"
Mishka seemed to catch on - something Terrance was hoping she wouldn't do, to be completely honest, but it didn't matter now. What mattered was getting out of there - and fast.

He grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the graveyard just as the figures were approaching. Dipping into an alleyway, he felt Mishka's small hands tugging on his jacket sleeve, but he waited until the lanterns died out before he looked down at her. "They're gone. What were you gonna say, ki-"

He didn't expect a lot of things that night. He didn't expect to risk his life for a kid. He didn't expect to befriend said kid. And above all, he certainly did not expect said kid to embrace him warmly and mumble, "I can be your family if you want me to, Mister Graverobber."

Terrance never was the caring type - at least, he wouldn't let on that he was the caring type. He was always a "get the job done" sort of guy, and never really showed that he was empathetic towards... Well, anyone, really. As a matter of fact, he seemed rather apathetic towards everyone. But that didn't necessarily mean he was heartless. No, that's not what that meant at all.

On that night, he vowed he would do everything in his power to keep Mishka safe.
He never did break that silent promise to himself. Hopefully he never would.