Enjin hummed as he walked around idly, bored out of his mind. It was a day where he had nothing to do, so he decided to stretch his legs instead of sitting in the Cleaners’ base all day. Umbreaker sat hooked to his back, the umbrella a comfortable weight against his back.
As he began digging around his coat pockets for his cigarette box when a sudden breeze zipped past him. He glanced up in time to see a motorcycle and its rider go by. He couldn’t see their identity because of the helmet, but what caught his attention was a glint of metal. A prosthetic?
He let out a small hum of interest, and he had a feeling he would see the motorist again, and he had a good feeling they weren’t a normal person, if that slight glow in their eyes - a common sign of a Giver - was anything to go by.
It was a Thursday morning and you sat atop a garbage pile on your motorcycle, gas mask over the lower half of your face and your prosthetic arm’s metal glinting in the light.
Wind blew through your hair as your eyes scanned the area. You were in the middle of a commission: getting rid of a small group of trash beasts for a couple of merchants wanting to pass through the Polluted Zone to transport wares to the next Safe Zone over.
You had to admit, it was boring. However, a commission is a commission, and the merchants were paying you double what you normally charge for your services. So the wait is worth it.