Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel "Fortunate Reality"

  You awaken in darkness. Instantly battered by both the confusion of this unfamiliar location and the memories of previous events. You groan as you sit up from a Dahl roll out mattress, still wearing a slightly damp shirt and mining jacket. The Guardian was not in the tent with you and that put you into an uneasy tension. You had not fallen asleep on the bed spread, this meant you had been moved during your slumber. The Guardian must have known enough about human anatomy to know you would not be comfortable on the ground. The lost legion had once taken up residence here so you wondered how much exactly this particular Guardian knew about humans. You were just about to saunter out of bed as the tent flap opened, in walked that white and black carapace you had become all too familiar with. She carried folded human clothing, not yours but old Dahl combat pants. The Guardian dropped the pants on the floor next to you, picking up the pants you examined them hoping that they would fit you. While you sat distracted with the intricacies of mens pants, she had stepped out of the tent. They were slightly too big but not enough to slide off, nothing tightening the belt didn't fix.

   A few minutes passed until the Guardian returned, only this time she came back with a set of Lost Legion combat armor. Dropping it on the floor with a clack she gestured to you to come outside with her, those slender fingers making a familiar “come hither” action. For a supposedly foreign alien creature isolated from outside contact she sure seemed to know a lot about human mannerisms. The surprisingly bright illumination inside the vault forced your eyes to adjust until you could see clearly without squinting. In front of you was an odd sight, in fact you had to double check to make sure you where not hallucinating. A metal dining table with assorted cans and bottles stood complete with two stools. What really surprised you is the bowl of soup that rested on the table, it was even steaming so obviously it had been prepared recently. The Guardian sat on one of the stools, an awkward motion that required her to lift some of the elongated plates that made up her “dress.” A realization that she had prepared this for you had just hit, really you didn't know what to think. Obviously this was a caring gesture but still something nagged at your latent paranoia that maybe this Guardian knew too much about human customs. Nevertheless you sat down, you hadn't had dinner or lunch yesterday so the smell of soup only inflamed your hunger. She had even provided you with a spoon, wasting no time you tucked in. The soup consisted of Skag bits boiled in a broth with bits of cryo vine. As you brought each spoonful into your mouth you noticed that the Guardians mandibles quivered. Every time you chewed and swallowed you noticed that her head moved ever so slightly to follow your motions.

   You were stuffed. The soup was really good, if the Guardian had really made it herself then she could cook for you anytime. However all this silence felt awkward so you decided it was time to try and figure out what this alien really wanted.

“Can you understand me?” you spoke softly, gesturing at yourself.

   She cocked her head to her side, raising her mandibles and chittering softly. Raising her hand she spread her slender fingers and waved it side to side.

“so-so”

  You breathed a sigh of relief. Even if she couldn't understand you completely, at least you would be able to communicate on some level. You had so many questions you wanted to ask, about vaults, eridians, the like, but you realized that right now you needed to know why the Guardian hadn't killed you when she had the chance. You needed to chose your words carefully to be as clear as possible.
“Are you going to hurt me?” You drew out each syllable and again gestured to yourself hoping she would understand.

   The Guardian let out a soft chitter and slowly shifted her mandibles. You had no idea that meant but the Guardian didn't seem like she was planning to hurt you. This was stupid, if the Guardian had wanted to kill you would it not have done so right away? Although the thought of it using you for sex and then killing you had crossed your mind why would it have gone through the effort of learning human hand gestures and making breakfast?

“I really liked the soup.” This time you pointed to the bowl and rubbed your stomach while licking your lips.

   Instead of a chittering, the Guardian opened a smaller set of mandibles on the bottom of its head and a small thin tongue darted out. It quickly slipped in front of both pairs of mandibles, flicking drops of fluid everywhere. It was imitating you, this was an excellent chance to learn something.

  You smiled and looked at the Guardian for a reaction and sure enough you got one. She raised both of her mandibles and chittered quietly. So that was what a Guardian smile looked like, you had to admit the way her mandibles twitched was kind of cute. Now that was something you never thought you would consider. This whole scenario was strange but at this point you couldn't really expect anything normal.

  The Guardian stood up abruptly and headed towards the tent at a brisk pace. She stopped only to give  you the same “come hither” gesture from before and stepped inside the tent. You could make a run for it, in just a few seconds you could reach the elevator platform without being followed. You could go home and forget this whole mess ever happened. However something inside you wanted to see this trough, you had come here in search of treasure and mystery. You walked towards the tent and lifted the flap.

   There stood the Guardian, before you could even step inside she grabbed you. Using those elegant hands she laced her fingers with yours once again and pulled you close. Pressing her face against yours the small tongue darted out, entering your mouth and slipping against your own. The long and slender tongue hungrily explored your mouth, while not unpleasant it had a distinct salty taste. Unlike a human tongue it was completely smooth and incredibly warm. Your free hand goes right for her thighs as you brush your fingers across that supple lavender flesh. You grope her powerful legs, beneath that soft skin lies a rippling musculature. The Guardians tongue evacuates your mouth, leaving a trail of your own saliva and alien lubricant. She guides your hand onto her back, pressing it against a row of black scales nearing her thighs. She rubs your hand against them, her mandibles shuddering and her warm husky breath quickening. She releases your hand and leaves you to explore her body. You rub the layered plates, you can feel them tighten and relax as your fingers slide across them. Meanwhile the Guardian embraces your back, appreciating your own utilitarian build. It is a variable plethora of sensory pleasures, a work of genetic art. While you a survivor, evolved, not created hold a beauty of your own. It runs its fingers across your back, outlining the contours of your spine. You grasp its thigh, your fingers squeezing the plump flesh as you massage its back. The plates now tighten and relax a steady rate as you press your fingers into each one, the slightest bit of give ever present. Suddenly the Guardian shudders, her body shakes violently and the plates rise like the hair on a the nape of a cats neck. From between the umbral black plates thin wafts of purple smoke rise. The air is filled with the aroma of burned incense. Slowly the plates lower to their original position. The Guardian shivers and collapses into your arms, breathing heavily.

   You almost fall over due to her weight but she is much lighter than her size suggests. She takes a few shaky steps towards the bed roll, you lower her down on her back taking heed of her Chitin plate "dress." You lie down with her, warping your arms around the guardian. The chitin that adorns most of her body is surprisingly warm, and much less stiff than you originally thought. Time passes gently, the soft clicking of her mandibles relaxes you. Thoughts become clouded and make less sense as you huddle her slender body for warmth. Soon you are asleep, your dreams yet again flash with glimpses of the location of a vault. You haven’t been able to make out any locations, only rooms like the ones you took the artifacts from. Hundreds of rooms, eventually however you do see something different. A smooth round stone, on a black canvas. A sandy desolate stone, on the endless canvas of the universe.

Pandora.