Get a Different Shirt Man-2

"You haven't done none of that either though." Matt pointed out, only to freeze as Simon paused, a flash of complicated emotions flying across his face.

"Never mind, pretend I said nothing."

Notably different, no one would assume they were brothers. Matt was big and burly, built solid and strong with thick and fuzzy hair. Simon was built slim and wiry, with defined muscle thanks to the necessary workout regimes, but more made to run than lift.

Simon was a shade darker than Matt, more angular with sharp cheek bones and a defined jawline. His eyelashes were dark and the kind girls could get envious a guy had, while Matt had a strong jaw and even built features, handsome by no doubt, and with perfectly shiny teeth versus Simon's slightly stained naturally-yellowed teeth.

Simon stopped feeling self-conscious long ago, knowing his teeth were naturally that shade. It was fine, he could get them whitened if it really mattered, but a bit of self-annoyance and envy couldn't help but creep up whenever he saw his half-brother's teeth.

"Okay... but why you wearing that ugly ass yellow shirt if you're about to get married?" Simon finally asked, eye twitching slightly as he looked at the mustard-yellow wife-beater his brother had on.

"What? Bright colors are becoming more in fashion, you now that man. People are tired of the dreary gray and white."

"Yeah but... good color. Like green or bright blue, not... that shade of yellow at least." Simon shook his head. "Gimme a sec."

He pushed his way through the crowd, dragging Matt along, until they came to a terminal.

Simon pulled a cord with a small plug on the end out from the bracer covering most of his forearm, and plugged it into the terminal. As a slightly scratched and scuffed screen was revealed by a thin panel flipping open, he began to use the touchscreen to scroll through a selection of items available from the terminal.

The screen was set on the inside of his forearm, a part the somewhat clunky bracer.

"Alright... there we go." He finished his purchase, and tapped Matt on the shoulder. "Now, we wait!"

Matt rolled his eyes. "Just cause you got a high paying employ right now doesn't mean you should spend credits like that man!"

A drone flew over after a while of them arguing over saving credits or spending it for family, 4 propellor blades buzzing as a claw disengaged from a bundle of cloth wrapped by twine.

Simon caught the shirt as he began to untie it. "Wow, gotta give that delivery drone some credit, that was pretty quick."

He turned to Matt, shaking out the fabric of the shirt to show it off. It was a bright red t-shirt with a white line down the left side of the chest, and white lines going down the top of the sleeves from the neckline as well.

"Put it on Matt, cover up that god-awful muscle-shirt." Simon shook his head. "At least when you're married you'll have someone to make sure you actually look presentable without me chasing your ass around the cells!"

Matt rolled his eyes. "Who's the big brother here?"

"Who's the one who's right?" Simon shot back, getting a laugh from Matt as he pulled the red shirt over his yellow one.

Matt then turned and pulled Simon back into the crowd, even as Simon tried to say something, drowned out as soon as they entered the crowd.

Matt got close to the screen before realizing his brother was now trying to yell to be heard.

"What?!" Matt turned back to Simon, who pulled his arm out of Matt's hand.

"I gotta go!" Simon shouted, and Matt blinked. "You gotta go?!"

"Yeah!"

"Why?!"

"I just came to wish you luck man!"

"Why aren't you staying?!" Matt blinked, and Simon laughed. "I gotta go to employ!"

Matt nodded slowly. "Alright..." a hesitant and slightly fearful expression crossed his face. "Hey..." he coughed, raising his voice again. "Be careful alright?"

Simon waved a hand over his shoulder as he turned around, swallowed into the crowd as he slipped through.

Matt stood there for a second staring after his brother, before turning back to the large screen. 'He'll be all right... just be careful Si.'

~ ~ ~

Simon went down the halls of metal panels, with lights on the walls showing directions everywhere.

Doorways would split off into other halls or areas, interlocking passageways creating the interior of the Hive.

Simon entered a hall, scanning his bracelet against a shiny patch of wall that lit up with an arrow pointing up, and stepped into the elevator as the doors slid open.

"Simon Creed, clearance oh-seven(07), reporting for employ hours, level 45."

"Confirmed, bio signs match. Have a good day Simon." A female voice spoke out, as the elevator began to rise.

The higher the level, the lower the floor. Floors 6-30 were all storage and supplies, metals and wires for all repairs.

As for what levels 0-5 were, nobody was certain, just that they were "ground level".

Simon sighed as he continued walking, passing through an automated security check before reaching a manned security check.

The guards held up guns, glossy black barrels and bodies with light blue lines glowing on the sides of the barrel leading to the cartridge loaded in.

"Hands up! Stay still!"

Simon lifted his arms up familiarly, spreading his fingers apart to show his unarmed state, and one of the guards came over to scan his bracelet while the others watched, guns ready.

The guards were dress in all black, a stark difference from the usually gray or white clothes common throughout the Hive, though bright colors as a style was becoming more and more popular recently. There's a reason they're nicknamed the blackguard.

Thick fabric of Kevlar made the joints as plates of armored material covered their chests and back, shoulders and forearms, shins, and the sides of their thighs as pads and plates of shiny black material. It looked somewhat like metal or plastic perhaps, a bit closer to plastic in appearance maybe.

They wore helmets covering the sides and top of their head, as well as the back, while a faceplate over their nose and mouth fitted into the mask, with a clear pattern at the side making it clear it also functioned as a gas mask. Goggles covered their eyes, perfectly fitted into the helmet and mask to leave no skin exposed, glass too darkly tinted from the outside to see the eyes of whoever wore them.

Simon wondered, not for the first time, if he knew one of these people acting so cautious by procedure. Who's face was beneath the formidable appearance of the mask and helmet of the guards?

The man... actually looking closer, Simon began to think perhaps the one checking him was a woman?

The chest-piece was being pushed a bit further out than it would on a man, and despite the armor being set up to make gender hard to read, her hips were still slightly notable as being wide.

The woman held out a scanner as she held it against his open skin, and Simon stayed still even as he felt a tiny prick, knowing a blood sample was just taken.

"Confirmed! Simon Creed, clearance oh-seven!"

She put the scanner away and raised her hand as an open palm, and the others relaxed their aim, letting their arms fall to just hold their guns at their chest, and she went back to the others.

They went to their seats and positions at the security check as Simon was waved through.

'Now... for the hardest part of every day.'