#[handing em a metaphorical gun] go. do a crime

[sorrowfulsidekick]

▸ // Ears subtly flick to the showy enthusiasm. Kit was reticent at first, waging an internal struggle against an unfounded ire; this was Tails. Though this fact was obvious he still hoped for otherwise. The source of his loathing, his better he had to strike down.

He couldn’t trust the fox- no matter which him it was. I hate him, narrow eyes said as much.

“ S-smart? You think so? ” 

▸ // So then why did that cheesy gesture and startling praise urge corners of lips to finally raise, clumsy and uneven. “ Thank you. . . ”

Kit shifts to sit a bit more comfortably against the gravel, an odd pebble or two stuck to sore knees were brushed away. Looking at his palms he blinks, confusion evident on his face as he took note of the aforementioned cuts. How did he notice that?

“ I-it’s okay. I’m not. . . ” Upon further examination the fennec notes the actual state of disrepair his gloves were in. With recent harm performed mere minutes ago from sharpened claws. 

“ This is superficial damage. I can’t be hurt- at least not in any way that matters. “

▸ // The eerie vagueness of that statement is followed by a splayed palm tentatively outstretching toward Tails. There was an obvious catch, however, as the rush of water fills the air.

“ Tails is a liar. “ Hydro-tails ready themselves, though their construction remains noticeably weak; a metaphorical warning. He would let the other approach but not without a safety net. “ How do I know you’re not one too? I don’t even know what you are? A-A time traveler? ”

❝That's right!❞ Snapping his fingers, perceptibly practiced in his motions of striking an auspicious thumbs up, he grins wide, baring divaricate canines. ❝You're pretty damn smart, Kitsunami! I'm guessin' you've already seen another me or two around.❞

— ;; Airily chuckling through that same toothy beam at the concept, he shuffles to lean back a bit, palms pressing flat against the gravel beneath the both of them. Shoulders bounce with a certain amount of authenticity he's not quite shown this whole time in his individuality. Blithe in nature, decidedly.

Veridity that is, unfortunately, short-lived, as he yet again shifts posture, this time to raise his chin, the ends of that ethereal truthful smile turning back into an exaggerated grin as clear pools of blue gleam off the light of the torrid sun in the hazy overhang.

❝I think I wanna get those cuts on your hands bandaged up next. Can ya let me do that, Kitsunami?❞

[sugargliderowl]

Thoughts on Janus’ Playlist...

Some of my first-time-hearing reactions to Janus’ playlist (sorry for the rambling parts):

Black Hole Sun: It’s apparently about depression according to Genius? Like it’s kinda like yearning for the depression to be sucked into the “black hole sun”... The snake references and heaven and hell is definitely Janus. Also, it sounds old-timey like a jazz song, so that sets up the mood of the entire playlist. I don’t really get this... but this feels like a mood setter for the entire thing, unless it means something else. What do you guys think?

It Seemed the Better Way: The strings? CHILLS. Leonard Cohen’s voice reminds me of Hades in Hadestown. “Sounded like the truth, seemed the better way... but it’s not the truth today” is just his motto is what I’m seeing. And then the “I better hold my tongue, I better take my place...” part feels like resignation to me. It’s either Janus is trying to help, but that didn’t work so he resigns to become the “villain” of the light sides. It could allude to the dark sides as a whole: they are all trying to help Thomas in their ways, but because being themselves doesn’t work, they need the villain, spooky facade.

Anywhere: Ooh, I’m seeing a vintage vibe from all of this... Back to the song. “It’s a beautiful / If you’ve been lied to” is a good callback to the whole “society is built on lies” from SvS from Jay Dee. “Let this be a call to arms / At the changing of the avante garde / Nothing in this world... is beautiful.” Is Janus a pessimist? If so, he’s a good juxtaposition to Patton, the optimist. Also, the vocals remind me of like a really old timey radio, semi-haunted... my instincts say that it feels like the singer is like Harrison Bergeron (Kurt Vonnegut; do read it; it’s a good short story) trying to tell the truth about this world that people think is a good place.

Talking at the Same Time: Someone please draw Janus as like a 1920s gentleman character swaggering... wait I can. This song reminds me of “Why don’t you do right” by Jessica Rabbit on “Who Framed Roger Rabbit.” Jazz or blues? Either one. This song is really depressing? I don’t know why, but there is that feel of everything is hopeless. Pessimistic, again. “A tiny boy... made a sword from a stick and a gun from his hand” reminds me of Roman in a way? But then again, the “we bailed out all the millionaires / they’ve got the fruit / We’ve got the rind” doesn’t remind me of Roman.

all the good girls go to hell: “MY LUCIFER IS LOOONELYY”... sorry I love this song. Anyways, the lyrics really speak to Janus just because of the whole duality and Christian metaphors. Also, J is the side who would definitely “want the Devil on her team”. We love the whole duality motif. I just *chef’s kiss x3*.

Denial: OH MY GOSH THE SVS REDUX... J was denial. HE WAS DENIAL. “Just don’t shut your eyes closed / Not until I get it off my chest” is basically the blindfold metaphor that happened throughout SvS, so would this be the message he wants to send to Thomas and Patton... or maybe the entire light sides. “Have you turned a corner? / Do you think of leaving me behind?” Dark side acceptance arc? Also, “I know you’re looking for direction... I know where you wanna go / Oh I do, but do you?” is to Roman and Thomas for the callback because he knew they wanted to go “so bad.”

(click for more analysis and summary!)

Trust in Me: Of course, snek boi, I knew this could be something you’ll put in. But do we trust you? So this is his suave villainy song. This again shows how Bananaconda child operates; he wants Thomas to trust him and be selfish but excessively. That’s why balance is necessary for all of the sides!

Razzle Dazzle: *gasp* MUSICAL SONGS NOW? YASSS. Definition is “noisy, showy, and exciting activity and display designed to attract and impress,” so the whole facade of being fancy to hide the insecurities and “bad” parts. Sounds like someone we know (*cough* ROMAN *cough*). “What if your hinges all are rusting / What if, in fact, you’re just disgusting? / Razzle dazzle ‘em and they’ll never catch wise” is just a jab and a stab at Roman. Or maybe it’s him. He’s also the dramatic one. If so, we have angst arriving.

When the Chips are Down: HADESTOWN OH MY YES! STRINGS! AAAAA! Does Janus give me Fate vibes in a way? Yes, definitely. “Nobody’s righteous / Nobody’s proud / Nobody’s innocent / Now that the chips are down” Holy CRAPP. It’s the perfect response to Patton’s “Nobody’s perfect... except for Thomas, he loves his friends!” in SvS. Now that the “chips are down,” Thomas should take after himself... after all, the Fates were telling Eurydice to look after herself. Sounds like what Janus said to Thomas after the Redux.

Mandy Goes to Med School: Oh. Um. This sounds like the whole jazz/20′s theme. This song’s apparently about abortion? I’m kinda confused, so feel free to add on! But it’s quite the bop, just listening to it. Maybe the whole thought that society makes laws based on a false conception? Help.

I Put A Spell On You: Janus definitely goes to jazz clubs. “I can’t stand it ‘cause you put me down” and “I tell ya I ain’t lyin’” and “Because you’re mine” makes the whole villainesque feel. I don’t know where this was from, but this stands out to me just because it was on the “Friends on the Other Side Mashup”. 

Evil Night Together: Ominous, and then jazzy. Jay Dee’s flirting skills go to the max. This also gives the villain vibe by the lyrics referencing things that Remus would be fond about. Also, “Who’s gonna make you a hero” seems to be directed to Roman like he did in SvS. This is a very seductive song with really dark undertones about crime. Janus, that slimy snek boi is a lawful neutral to evil. 

Dont’ Tell Mama: Cabaret... a classic musical, eh? “Hush up, don’t tell mama / Shush up, don’t tell mama” goes to Janus’ power to silence people. “If you had a secret, you bet I would keep it / I would never tell on you...” Janus is definitely the one about lies and secrets, so that goes to that.

You’re a Cad: “What’s the point pretending that you could be a better man? / Just give in, since you always end up right back where you began” “You’re a rascal and a rogue, a villain and a crook” is the other sides viewing him, and “Still I tug at your line, I’m a fish on your hook” and “I should be better, but I’m worse” is hinting at some Janus angst. I think it’s going to be something about trust

As Far as I Can See: JANUS ANGST TRUCKING IN ON TO YA: “Nobody loves me / As far as I can tell.” Or even “Nobody’s listening as far as I can tell / And when I’m crying out / Nobody cries back for me.” Haha... I’m totally fine (*sobbing*). Also, the “we’re all going down / all down the staircase aboard” either hints at the Redux statement of pushing people off staircases... or maybe Virgil who went down the staircase and left the dark sides. Gosh, I thought this was gonna be a hype song by the beat, but I stand corrected.

Criminal: Oh, so the angst continues. Great. Totally great. This somehow links back to the bloopers of Thomas, as J, saying “I’m not bad; I’m just drawn that way.” This is peak sarcasm in a way, but I don’t really know. “I’ve done wrong and I wanna suffer for my sins / I’ve come to you cause I need guidance to be true / And I just don’t know where I can begin”... is this from Thomas to Janus or the other way? If it’s from Thomas, Janus is kinda mad and is using as much sass as he wants. If it’s from Janus, it’s either he’s lying or he genuinely wants a redemption arc like Virgil did... but in a not so righteous way with “And I need to be redeemed / To the one I’ve sinned against / Because he’s all I ever knew of love.” I don’t really know, but this is such a bop.

Change: “I’ve been thinking it’s just someone else’s job to care / Who am I to sympathize when no one gives a d-” and “” Wow. Janus has his similarities with Logan. He wants to be listened to the sides. I mean, there is a reason why he impersonates the light sides: to be listened without bias. “Change is a powerful thing / I feel it coming in me” foreshadows some good stuff with Janus! YES! Also, “Maybe by the time this song is done / I’ll be able / To be honest” and the rest of the lyrics just hit me like a truck? It hurts the soul in a way. Change is inevitable is the message, so would that mean Janus could have an upgrade? I mean, the change started when SvS Redux happened with him coming out and being accepted by the light sides, so maybe, maybe things will change from there in a good way.

Devil In The Details: “A house of cards / A supple heart / Is not a place to dwell”.... Patton? Oh no. “But know there’s no backing out / This is gonna be reality / You can never dream it out” is going to his reputation and relations with the sides and Thomas? He seemed to have hesitated to say his name and let his reputation down since that would change everything that he has known over the years. Would this mean the dark and light side thing will break in later episodes? Maybe. “I put the past into the ground / I saw the future as a cloud / If there’s still time to turn around / I’m going to” is a big oof. And then... “I am the first one I deceive / If I can make myself believe / The rest is easy” comes in. Is Janus lying to himself? He’s the manifestation of deceit, but is he also doing that to himself? Or it could be to Thomas. But then again...

Come Little Children: Spooky. Nice. This feels like a lullaby. “It must be this way / To weary of life and deceptions / Rest now my children...” and then “The time’s come to play / Here in my garden of shadows” make me think that Janus thinks that this life is quite... painful. I am not too sure about this, tell me what y’all think!

Into The Unknown: Oh it’s not that one. It’s the one from Over The Garden Wall (the animation if I remember it right). I don’t know why, but I saw Come Little Children and connected that to Into the Unknown as words, so that was cool. “Dancing in a swirl / Of golden memories / The loveliest lies / Of all” refers to nostalgia. This song is about nostalgia. Wait. OH WAIT. Patton’s room is all about that... so would that mean nostalgia is also part of Jay Dee too because of the mood around it that is distorted by emotions? That’s something really cool to think about. One more: “If dreams can’t come true / Then why not pretend?” I feel like this points to Virgil in a way because his dream is complete acceptance, but Janus knows V was a dark side, so maybe he’s hinting at Virgil pretending to compensate for the fact that he is a dark side.

Summary:

Janus’ aesthetic would be a 1920-40 vintage theme with jazz on the background, strings and piano used ominous effect, and being flashy and dramatic. He wants to be listened to the other sides, so he puts up different disguises (like to Pat and Lo), which includes his villain facade he put on for the past maybe 2 or 3 years. He strongly believes that society is built on lies, and like in SvS, he doesn’t want Thomas to be disadvantaged in the said society. He loves the whole duality and juxtapositions (I mean, his name is Janus for a good reason) because he embraces them both. He jabs at several sides for them faking themselves to hide their true feelings, but then again, he might also be lying to himself. He knows that change is inevitable after the whole name reveal, and we know that his acceptance arc is going to come. It could be about trust and facing the reality... just my thoughts. In other words, this playlist gave me a bunch of reasons on why Janus is a great morally gray character.

FEEL FREE TO ADD ON! I LOVE SHARING THOUGHTS! Especially with analysis, more people means more thoughts and new ideas and theories. Thank you! 

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE STOLEN CITY (PART ONE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra. Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

The junction lies just ahead, Traveler. If you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

(CHUCKLES) Well, next stop? Hyperion City.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

A month is a very long time to stake out, but Detective Steel is nothing if not dedicated to his job. And so he sits on a rooftop, day after day, watching the Museum of Colonized History, waiting to see the gangster who is supposed to pay for a killing here, and absolutely nothing has happened.

Until today. Suddenly, the month of quiet has given way, and threats old and new are jumping out of every shadow. But when the metaphorical and literal Martian rain are both 90% acid, Detective Steel had better find cover, and quickly.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES. DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

Our next stop: Juno Steel and the Stolen City.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): If you get up early enough and you catch it in just the right light, Hyperion City can be sorta beautiful. The billboards backlit by the early morning light, the dew-spackled trashcans, the sunrise shadows cast by highscrapers and floating mansions… it’s really somethin’. And every time I see it I wish I was dead.

My name’s Juno Steel. I’m a private eye, and I usually don’t see any side of the city that comes earlier than noon, but, lately I’ve been changing things up. Seeing a lot of sunrises. Drinking a lot of coffee. Saying no to old habits like sleep and… no, pretty much just sleep.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

RAMSES O’FLAHERTY (FROM COMMS): Juno. Status report.

JUNO: Oh, hey Ramses, it’s… been a big three hours since four AM, got some real exciting stuff to catch you up on.

RAMSES: Glad to hear it. You’ve only been staking out for, what? A month? (CHUCKLES)

JUNO (NARRATOR): I’d been following a lead for weeks on someone who was trying to sabotage Ramses O’Flaherty. And it all pointed here: the Museum of Colonized History, so far on the outskirts of Hyperion City that the building’s roof had to be rounded just to fit on the inside of the Dome. Even here, the buildings were jammed tight enough together you didn’t have room to breathe – and it was at this museum, under the cover of all that sprawl, where I’d supposedly catch a one-eared woman doing some shady business. Which you’d think would be pretty exciting. It sounds exciting, doesn’t it? But what it actually translates to is sitting on a rooftop from early morning to late night, watching a museum all day, every day, until you get so bored you wonder how hard you’d have to pull to take your toes off.

MUSIC: ENDS.

RAMSES: Are you listening? Do I need to get you a cybernetic ear to go along with that eye? I asked if you’d seen any sign of Yasmin Swift’s employer yet.

JUNO: Nope. But my foot fell asleep and I’m bored out of my goddamn mind. That’s the status report. Now entertain me before I take the ‘stir’ out of ‘stir crazy.’

RAMSES: Entertain you? Well, I suppose I’m already the city’s clown. Why not be Juno Steel’s, too?

JUNO: Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.

RAMSES: Not that bad. Would you like me to read this headline to you? Molly Chung, Uptown Bulletin: “Opinion: Ramses O’Flaherty’s Campaign Is As Old And Stale As He Is.”

JUNO: That’s just one—

RAMSES: Hyperion Chronicle: “Study: Pilot Pereyra’s Increased Funding to HCPD Doubles Prison Population, Halves Crime Rate.” That study is just so incredibly inaccurate, by the way. The Beacon: “Treasurer Insists O’Flaherty’s Budget Won’t Balance, Quote, ‘No Matter What Math Says.’” Elysium Times—

JUNO: Okay, okay, so it’s pretty bad. (SIGHS) Explains how Pilot won so many damn elections, anyway. Takes a lot of skill to smear your opponent without getting your hands dirty.

RAMSES: Oh, their strategy is a lot more impressive than that. Everyone knows Pilot’s a crook – but they’ve changed the conversation so that’s a plus. If we’re going to live in a city full of cutthroats, the reasoning goes, we should at least have a cutthroat on our side, too. That’s been their platform for years: the world doesn’t play fair, so why should we?

JUNO: Well, at least nobody’s tried to kill you lately.

RAMSES: Always be grateful for the little things, yes. I wouldn’t rest on those laurels just yet, though – whoever this is, if they’re after my campaign and not just me, their biggest strike will come at the eleventh hour. They still have four days before the election.

JUNO: Guess that means I don’t get to leave this goddamn roof, then. Which is fine, but I guess I just didn’t know doing good would look so much like doing nothing.

RAMSES: Juno…

Nevermind. Your physicals say your knife wound is healing. Are you, ehm… making progress in your physical therapy? They must have given you stretches, or something like that?

JUNO: Yeah, well… doesn’t mean I do ‘em.

RAMSES: You should. It’s not like you have anything better to do up there. You could at least make use of the care I pay for. I have to protect my investment.

JUNO: Yeah, I read about that. The cyber-eye is hooked up to my nervous system, so if my brain function stops, it stops. That’s a lot of creds down the drain.

RAMSES: I didn’t mean the Theia.

We’ve been working together for some time now, Juno. I truly hope that– by which I mean, I hope you don’t think that I merely think of you as… uh, well…

JUNO: Wait, Ramses – hold that thought.

RAMSES: Oh, thank God.

JUNO: I see someone.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Down in the alley by the museum… the woman with one ear! The Piranha.

JUNO (NARRATOR): She’d gotten away from me once, and I wasn’t gonna forget that. The Piranha, who’d nearly killed Maia King. The Piranha, who was all sharp teeth and a need to bite. If she was behind this, I thought, that would explain the methods used to go after Ramses so far. Roasting roller-coasters and killer criminal consultants seemed like the right kind of over-the-top from the mind that brought you the cat-bomb.

It took everything I had in me not to go down and get her right then. But sometimes you need bait. And sometimes that means leaving a piranha on the line in hopes you’ll catch a whale.

RAMSES: Well? What’s she doing?

JUNO: Just waiting around, it looks like, but… why?

SOUND: CAR DRIVES UP.

Hang on, a car just pulled up. Someone’s leaning out, it’s…

Uh… uh, Ramses?

RAMSES: Juno.

JUNO: You’re not gonna believe this.

RAMSES: You and your buildups. This had better be worth it.

JUNO: It’s Mayor Pereyra.

SOUND: DISTANT CAR DOOR CLOSES, FOOTSTEPS.

Mayor Pilot Pereyra is doing back-alley business with a killer, and I caught them red-handed.

RAMSES: Well. That was worth it.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Pilot Pereyra, Mayor of Hyperion City for four years running, was famous for their stiletto heels. They had a new pair in a new hideous color every week, and Pilot made killings off of ‘em. Both in the literal sense – just ask Sal Barone, found floating in Mars’s orbit with two of Pilot’s heels jammed into his throat – and in the financial sense – like how for a year after, every crime boss in Hyperion paid Pilot hand over fist for a pair like the one that killed Barone. Because Pilot Pereyra didn’t just organize crime: as mayor, they defined it. And if this was the whale the Piranha was gonna bring in… hell, maybe her getting away had been a good thing after all.

RAMSES: You’ve undergone the modifications to the Theia’s Rec Mode, haven’t you?

JUNO: ‘Course I have. I skipped physical therapy last week to do it. Theia, Rec Mode.

THEIA: Rec mode. Activated. Two hours of video storage. Remaining.

JUNO: That’s more like it!

THEIA: Error: Wireless uplink not found. Cannot transmit footage—

JUNO: What kind of low-rent eye did you get me, O’Flaherty?

THEIA: —Please connect to a physical uplink.

RAMSES: One day you’ll think of the Theia like your first car, Juno: all these quirks will just be part of its character. You’ll connect to a physical uplink later.

JUNO: And where the hell does that go?

THEIA: Caution: you don’t want to know.

JUNO: Fine, fine! Just zoom in, already.

THEIA: Zooming in.

SOUND: MECHANICAL WHIR.

JUNO: Damn it, they’re not even looking at each other. It’s like a junior high dance down there. If I could just hear what they’re saying…

THEIA: Suggestion: would you like me to activate. Lip reading protocol?

JUNO: Uhhh… s-sure… if you got a minute.

THEIA: Lip reading protocol. Activated.

SOUND: FUTURISTIC TECH-Y NOISES.

Compiling approximations of voices based on throat movement, infrared analysis, and audio recordings on public record.

SOUND: DING.

Application complete. You’re welcome.

SOUND: BEEP.

PILOT PEREYRA: Interested is definitely one word for it. It’s not every day that an employee tries to become a business partner. So. How much is it going to cost for that information to become my personal property?

PIRANHA: Oh, info’s been free for years, Mayor Pereyra. Information proliferates, see? Doubles, triples, and that don’t cost a dime. So the price ain’t on the info: that’s a gift. The price is on me applying that info for you, and that, well, that’s gonna cost a little more than you got on hand, I’m thinking.

PEREYRA: You’d be surprised how much I can get how quickly.

PIRANHA: (CHUCKLES) This is worth more. Used right, this little legend could be worth more than the whole damn city. And it could fit just right into your next big move. I just want to get in on the ground floor, see? Nothing wrong with that.

PEREYRA: (LAUGHING) Oh, buddy, I think you’re a little confused about what’s going on here.

JUNO: Whoa. Ramses, Mayor Pereyra just pulled a gun on her I– I think. It’s just a bulge in their coat, but… how long has that been there?

Uh-oh.

PEREYRA: What is it now?

JUNO: Theia, zoom in.

SOUND: MECHANICAL WHIR.

Big guy, brown jacket, standing under a lamppost. I think he might be watching me.

RAMSES: Of course. It makes sense that Pilot would have someone covering them.

JUNO: Well, they’ll have to wait. I still don’t have what I need.

RAMSES: Juno…

JUNO: Theia, lip reading again.

SOUND: BEEP.

PEREYRA: The payment’s a gift. Either you’re stepping away from this, or I’m pushing you off. Up to you, really.

PIRANHA: Oh, scary Mayor Pereyra, please don’t. (LAUGHS) I know you like to make inconvenient people disappear. That’s why I’ve made myself as convenient as possible. A luxury you can’t live without, see? Like air conditioning. Or those grocery carts that push themselves. (LAUGHS)

PEREYRA: Just remember who works for who, okay? I’ve got the entire HCPD in my pocket, and that means, I know how often little administrative mistakes happen. Real stupid things, like, uh, putting someone in solitary and losing their papers. Shuffling someone into the life-sentence pile when you meant to put them in the parking-ticket pile. Little stuff.

PIRANHA: I get it. Play nice or get off the court. Easy enough.

So what’s the plan? When do we do the job?

PEREYRA: Preparations are all set. You’ll be in there. Midnight.

JUNO: Midnight tonight?! …Ramses, they’re going to hit the Museum of Colonized history tonight!

…Ramses?

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

THEIA: Caution: your comms has been. Disconnected.

JUNO: What?!

THEIA: Transmission interference detected.

JUNO: You’ve gotta be—

…kidding me.

JUNO (NARRATOR): There was another person on the roof with me. They were over by the fire escape I’d used to climb up here hours ago. For a second all I could do was wonder how the hell they’d gotten up from the street so fast… until I realized it wasn’t the same person I saw down there. Brown coat, sure, but where the other was broad-shouldered and looked like somebody I might want to buy me a drink or two, this one was thinner, flightier, and more nervous. They were making a big point of not looking at me, scraping something off one shoe with the other, checking their watch, looking at the dome flickering overhead, trying to look… casual? I think? There was a bulge in their coat that might’ve been a comms jammer. Or a gun. Or a whole lot of other unpleasant things.

THEIA: Target is fifty feet away. Recommended course of action: blaster fire.

JUNO: You got real chatty after that update.

THEIA: Target. Approaching.

JUNO: I’m not gonna shoot ‘em, alright? Just keep translating what Pereyra’s saying. They’re getting to the good part and then I can get out of here.

SOUND: BEEP.

PEREYRA: All security in there’s got a panic button for instant lockdown, but, so long as you don’t get seen, there’s nothing wrong with a late-night visit to the museum.

So you’ve got the codex, huh? How many square miles does that thing cover?

PIRANHA: The whole city. (CHUCKLES) That’s a lot of information, Pilot. If we get it.

PEREYRA: When we get it. You have to visualize. You have to believe.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I couldn’t help it – hearing those footsteps, feeling my heart race: I glanced over my shoulder.

THEIA: Target is fifteen feet away.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The distance was bad – but it wasn’t the distance that made my blood run cold. It was what I saw on their chest as they pulled their lapel back.

THEIA: Firearm detected.

JUNO (NARRATOR): No, wasn’t that either. It was the thing right underneath the gun: a badge, with the letters HCPD shining on it.

And that was bad. Because to the dirty cops in the HCPD – so, most of ‘em – Pilot Pereyra was their ringleader. If I threatened Pilot, the cops wouldn’t bother with a trial. They’d pretty much go straight to the chair. Not the electric one, just one they’d shoot me in.

The cop had stopped pretending not to see me now. They pulled the gun.

VOICE: Freeze!

THEIA: Calculating distance to next rooftop.

VOICE: If you’re waiting for backup, you’re not gonna get it. I have this area checked. You’re alone.

JUNO: Nope, not waiting for backup.

THEIA: Next rooftop is within. Jumping distance.

JUNO: Just stalling on this next part, ‘cause I’m gonna hate it. Bye!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

VOICE: Hey! Get back here! I said freeze!

THEIA: For optimal timing, jump in three… two… one…

JUNO: (SCREAMS)

SOUND: THUD.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It was a beautiful flight. It was a beautiful landing. And, just to finish the set: the cop made a beautiful shot.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

JUNO: (GRUNTS)

VOICE: (DISTANT, FADING) Crazy idiot, jumping that far – don’t move! Not that you can! Oh, what a day, what a day, get a call from my landlord, now this…

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: SLAP.

VOICE: Wake up.

I said wake up.

SOUND: SLAP. DISTANT MUSIC.

JUNO: Wow, this alarm is annoying. You mind hitting snooze for me?

SOUND: SLAP.

Ow! Ow, okay, I’m up.

VOICE: About time. And if you want to stay awake, you’ll tell me what you know.

JUNO: I… don’t want to stay awake – that’s kind of what I just said.

VOICE: What? Don’t question my threats!

SOUND: SLAP.

JUNO: Wow, you got a lot of slaps in you, huh? This pretty much your whole playbook for interrogations, or can I expect some surprises?

VOICE: You want surprises, huh? Hm, I’ll get you some surprises…

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I wanted them off me for a second so I could get my bearings. I was tied to a chair in a room with concrete walls, cold, damp air, tools hanging from hooks across from me. My first thought was medieval torture chamber. My correct thought, a few seconds later, was suburban basement.

When the cop was on their way back, I got a look at the name on their uniform. “L-T L-O-O,” it said. Lieutenant Loo. Never heard of ‘em.

SOUND: DISTANT, MUFFLED VOICES.

VOICE (LOO): So, now that I’m prepared… do I have to send a laser through your head, or are you going to tell me what I want to hear?

JUNO: You’re a natural-born leader and that eyeshadow looks great on you.

LOO: What?

JUNO: Do you all wear coats like that? Yours looks a little nicer than your buddy’s on the street, but I—

LOO: Coats? My buddy on the str– what are you talking about?

JUNO: If you don’t know? Nothin’.

LOO: But—

JUNO: So what were you doing on that roof, anyway? Funny place to take a walk.

LOO: I was gonna ask you the same thing.

JUNO: Not very original of you.

LOO: It was my plan first!

You’re the one tied to the chair! Why am I answering the questions?

JUNO: I don’t know. Why are you?

LOO: Low self-esteem and a natural tendency to follow orders– oh, damn it! (GROANS) Look. I know you were watching Mayor Pereyra. What did you see?

JUNO: No idea what you’re talking about.

SOUND: SLAP.

Ow! Slaps? Again? You’re holding a gun!

LOO: Shut up! Tell me what you saw!

SOUND: SLAP.

JUNO: Ow, quit it!

LOO: Not til you tell me what you…

That looks like a cybernetic eye. You didn’t record anything, did you?

JUNO (NARRATOR): The hardest part of any interrogation is the balancing of information: figuring out how much the other person knows, how much they want to know, how much you know, how much you can make them think you know, and, most importantly, how little you can make them think you know.

LOO: So? Did you?

JUNO: Yeah, what’s it to you? Since when has recording people without their permission been a crime?

LOO: Send me the footage. Now.

JUNO: Rather not.

LOO: Send me that footage, or I pull the trigger.

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

JUNO: Not gonna help you any. Eye’s worked into my brain – that’s how it does all these weird things like make me shoot faster and speed up my reflexes and give me this one dream over and over again where I’m falling into a giant birthday cake that has my mother’s voice. You kill me, and all the data on it gets scrambled.

LOO: Just send me the footage, then.

JUNO: Love to, once we get to the station. Why didn’t you bring me to the station, anyway? I mean, this is a nice basement, but still. How’re the kids?

LOO: The what?

JUNO: You’ve got half a dozen sand-sleds up against the wall over there. I can tell at least three of your kids are little because one, those mittens are tiny and adorable, and two, all the left ones are missing.

LOO: Those aren’t… I-I’m not…

JUNO: Taking your dirty cop business into your home, huh? Pilot Pereyra covers your boots in mud and you track it all inside?

LOO: Mayor Pereyra? But I wasn’t—

JUNO: The hell are your kids gonna think of you, Loo? Embarrassing. A train wreck.

LOO: Oh! This isn’t my house!

SOUND: DISTANT, MUFFLED CRYING.

Damn it, now look what you made me do!

JUNO: You’re a cop who breaks into people’s basements for interrogations? What’s wrong with you?

SOUND: DISTANT DOOR OPENS. CRYING GETS LOUDER.

CAPTAIN KHAN: (DISTANT) Loo! What the hell is goin’ on down there?

LOO: (YELPS) Captain Khan! I-I-I-I didn’t mean—

SOUND: DOOR SLAMS SHUT. STOMPING FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Captain… Khan?

KHAN: You done questioning him yet? You show up at my apartment with someone in a damn duffel bag and then you wake the baby?!

Oh, no. No, no– d-agh, God damn it, it’s you!

JUNO (NARRATOR): Omar Khan was a good guy – and that’s why he’s one of the only cops in Hyperion City that I never wanted to deal with. The other ones you could punch all you wanted and never feel bad about it, but Khan… was clean. And that meant I had to play nice, or else…

Nothing, okay? I’d just feel bad. I liked Khan. He was a good cop. He became the Captain of my old precinct after I left and he’d really turned the place around, or… so I heard. And that meant the world was a better place with him in it. Or whatever. Ugh.

Also probably worth saying that Khan didn’t feel the same way about me.

KHAN: Loo, you moron! You didn’t tell me the Nosy Nanette you brought in was Juno goddamn Steel!

LOO: Am I supposed to know who this is?

KHAN: Oh, right. You’re new.

JUNO: Come on, Loo. Didn’t anybody ever tell you that the first thing you’re supposed to do at a new job is catch up on the old gossip?

KHAN: We can’t trust a goddamn word Steel here says! Didn’t anyone tell you about the Hijikata case?

LOO: The… what? Please?

KHAN: You got spaghetti in those ears, Loo? Don’t they teach you curiosity in diaper-school anymore? Captain Hijikata! Of the one-five-one, our goddamn precinct! It was the case of the damn decade and this walking pile of nitroglycerin decided to—

JUNO: We really don’t need to get into the details, thanks.

KHAN: We can’t trust him. Especially when it comes to taking down someone reeeally big. Steel’s a glory-pig. Honor-hound. Wh-whatever. Anyway, why’s he here? You said this had something to do with our op?

JUNO: ‘Course it does, Captain. I’m gonna help you take down somebody really big.

KHAN: What?!

LOO: Uh… he’s telling the truth, Captain Khan. He— (GULPS) …saw the meeting.

KHAN: And where the hell were you?!

LOO: Seeing him… seeing the meeting.

Traffic was really bad and I got a call I had to take I’m sorry.

KHAN: God damn it! After months we finally get someone on the inside with Pereyra just to get the details on this meeting and you missed it because you were on the comms?! How the hell are we gonna pin them now? You got another sting ready to go, Loo? Do you? In the next four goddamn days?!

JUNO: So that’s what all this is? A sting to catch Pilot?

KHAN: Of course it is! The hell do you think we are, some kinda sneaky-sneak on-the-take-takers? No way. We’re— (COUGHING) We’re the good cops.

JUNO: …There are… only two of you.

KHAN: ‘Course there aren’t only two of us, blockhead! There are– I don’t know, four or five, at least.

LOO: Captain, there are more than five—

KHAN: Well, I’ve never counted, alright? Maybe you don’t give two ding-dongs about doing the right thing, Steel, but some of us are busy trying to make the world a little better! We’ve been tailing Pereyra for months, and I’m not gonna let you get in my way.

JUNO: Not planning on it, Captain.

KHAN: Oh. That’s– nice.

(CLEARS THROAT) So, uh… did you see what they were talking about?

JUNO: Yeah.

KHAN: You wanna tell us?

JUNO: Nah.

KHAN: I knew it! You weasel! You skink! You… momonga!

JUNO: Don’t know what’s got you so upset, Khan. I wasn’t lying. I’m not gonna stand in your way – I’m just not gonna say anything unless I get to come along for the ride.

KHAN: What?!

LOO: There might be one way around it, Captain. He said he recorded it all. On his… eye.

KHAN: On his…!

…on his eye. Hmmmm.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Hey, look at that. You didn’t have that last time I saw you. Where’d you get it, Steel?

JUNO: Left my real eye under my pillow and the eyeball fairy dropped it off.

KHAN: Doing something illegal is my guess. For one of your usual business partners. Valles Vicky, Clark the Shark, Cecil Kanagawa… something that’d leave a trail, I’ll bet.

JUNO: You’re close enough that your mustache is leaving a trail into my mouth, Khan. Back off.

KHAN: (GROWLS)

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Lieutenant!

LOO: Yes, sir!

KHAN: I want as much data as you can get on everyone Steel’s talked to for the past three weeks. Pull from Security Office databanks, private camera feeds, everything. How long’d that take you?

LOO: About two days, sir.

KHAN: Meanwhile I want you to get Goren to look into that eye: make, model, most importantly, how to pull the data out of the damn thing. Tell her she has a day and a half.

LOO: Yes, sir!

KHAN: Ha-ha! You hear that, Steel? We got you this time. Either you tell us what you saw, or in two days, we’ll know.

JUNO: Y’know, Khan, I got to hand it to you: that’s pretty impressive. Two days is fast.

KHAN: You bet your booper it is.

JUNO: But not fast enough to make it in time for Pereyra’s heist tonight.

KHAN: …What’d he just say?

LOO: I think he said… that Mayor Pereyra’s gang is going to do a heist tonight.

JUNO: At midnight, specifically.

LOO: At midnight, specifically.

KHAN: Yeah, yeah, I heard him.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Poor Khan looked like a balloon with all the air let out. Or, maybe just a balloon that was depressed. And that meant I was playing the interrogation game right. I’d given them just enough info to make them think I knew more – to make them want to work with me. And sure, I didn’t actually know more; but so long as they didn’t ask for anything else, that never had to be a problem.

KHAN: No, no no, wait, you know what – I don’t buy it. You could’ve just made that up. Might not know a damn thing, could’ve just made up some heist tonight to get us going. No. I think we’re gonna wait the two days. But thanks for the intel.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Well, so much for “not a problem.”

But interrogation’s like a high-stakes card game, and that means there are two ways to win. Either you actually get a good hand… or you bluff. Last card game I played like this, I wasn’t the one bluffing.

Wasn’t alone, either.

But no matter what I wanted, I was alone now. So I played my last card… and I bluffed.

JUNO: It’s in the Museum. Pilot told their gang to hit the Museum of Colonized History at midnight tonight and I know what they’re gonna steal.

LOO: Huh?!

KHAN: Huh. That’s… specific.

And if it’s supposedly tonight, it’s not like we’d have to wait long to find out if he’s lying.

LOO: But the Museum of Colonized History is huge, Captain! If it’s just the two of us, how can we be sure we’re going to check the right part? While we’re in the North Wing, the mayor’s gang could be robbing the South Wing.

JUNO: Captain, look. I know you’ve got a million reasons not to trust me on this. I know my reputation’s not exactly sparkling, and one time I tried to steal classified evidence off your desk, and later that same day I handcuffed you to a car, which was very funny, but also very wrong, probably.

KHAN: Steel—!

JUNO: And I know you probably have a million good reasons to take Pilot down and I might only have one but it’s a pretty damn good one, so I just. Need. To be there. Tonight. …Okay?

KHAN: (GROWLS)

LOO: Captain. This close to the election, this might be our last chance. If we could just get one person from Mayor Pereyra’s gang to talk—

KHAN: Alright, alright, fine. I’ll babysit the P.I. You happy?

JUNO: I’m happy.

KHAN: But listen up, Steel. When I’ve got the scent of something big, you’d better not get in my way. You try it, I’ll show you just how scary Omar Khan can get. Got me?

SOUND: DISTANT DOOR OPENS.

VOICE: Omar! We just got another one of those letters from the landlord! Do you want me to open it, or—

KHAN: Damn it, Noor, I told you I’m doing business down here!

VOICE (NOOR): Oh, do you have some friends over? Did you ask them if they want some pasta?

KHAN: I said we’re busy!

NOOR: Omar! What kind of a host are you! You drag them into the basement, let them make all this noise, wake the baby—

KHAN: ALRIGHT, FINE!

Do either of you want pasta?

(SIMULTANEOUSLY) LOO: No thank you. JUNO: I’m good.

KHAN: They don’t want pasta!

NOOR: What?

KHAN: I SAID THEY DON’T WANT PASTA!

Are you sure?

JUNO: Yeah, thanks, I’m all set—

LOO: Actually, I am a little hungry.

KHAN: Nevermind, I’ll come up and get two bowls in a minute, Noor! Thank you! I love you very much and I’m glad we’re working on our communication!

(PANTING) Ah– alright. So, like I said: all business, Steel. You’d better get used to that. First, farfalle; then, you and I take a little trip to the museum.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

JUNO (NARRATOR): In P.I. work, a real big lie is like a summer rainstorm: it comes on suddenly, it’s really hard to get out from under, and it’ll burn just all your skin off if you don’t get dry quick. Summer’s pretty rough on Mars.

I’d told a whopper of a lie back in Khan’s basement, and I’d gotten soaked before we ever made it to the museum. All it took was nine words, said while Loo was driving us:

KHAN: So where in the museum are they gonna hit?

JUNO: I, uh, told you, Khan, if I say that, you’ve got no reason to bring me.

KHAN: Yeah, whatever, keep your secrets if you want, I don’t care. But the Lieutenant at least needs to know which door to drop us off at.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The Museum of Colonized History is huge: blocks and blocks of dome prototypes and early terraforming pods and the mummified remains of the first space-colonists. If I picked a door at random, we’d miss the heist entirely, and there went my lead.

So what did I know? Not much. The Piranha shared some intel with Pilot, but it wasn’t enough on its own; there was something in here with information on it, and Pilot wouldn’t know how to read it without the Piranha.

One of the last things I’d picked up before Loo zapped me was a word: “codex.” A codex that covers the entire city. I had no idea what that meant, not yet, except for one thing: there was one wing of the Museum dedicated to things that covered the entire city.

KHAN: So? You’d better have something, Steel.

JUNO: The Hall of Maps. West entrance should get us there. Come on, Loo, you better speed this thing up; we don’t want to be late again.

LOO: I know, I know.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Loo dropped us off at the Hall of Maps at 11:30. We crawled through the window and crept past walls covered with old paper and flickering diodes, images of a thousand sprawling Marses measured and cut-up and categorized. There were maps from throughout the ages: before the telescope, before the terraforming pod, before the transgalactic travel engine.

It was beautiful, or whatever. But there was one thing that stuck out to me most of all:

JUNO: God, this place stinks.

KHAN: You get a free pass to the wonders of human progress and all you can think about is the smell?

JUNO: Yeah, basically. I hate that musty old hard drive stink. Just mold and motherboard-termites.

KHAN: It’s history, damn it! These are the maps that invented space colonization, Steel! You wouldn’t be here without ‘em!

JUNO: So that’s a con. Got any pros?

KHAN: (GROWLS) It’s not worth talking to a punk about the unpunkable. You couldn’t see the value of these maps if they reached out and tickled your whiskers.

JUNO: Anyway, why do you care? Aren’t you from Earth?

KHAN: (GROWLS)

JUNO: If you want history, Earth’s got thousands of years on literally anywhere else – you don’t have to travel thirty-four million miles to find history. People leave a mess everywhere they go.

KHAN: Sometimes a place means more than just itself. It’s an idea, or a promise, or… something. And even if that promise doesn’t get kept, it means you can go there and expect them to keep it. Demand they keep it. You know what I mean?

JUNO: I… huh, I-I do, actually, but, what promise—

KHAN: It’s like with my Little Mom. Made this curried lasagna every Tuesday for Big Mom. You do that long enough, it’s like a promise, right? Gotta keep a promise, or it goes bad. We’re all just like egg-noodles in the lasagna, skim milk in the sauce. Never should’ve thrown out that recipe.

JUNO: And hey, just like that, I lost you.

Found someone else, though. Hide!

SOUND: WALKIE-TALKIE BEEP.

VOICE 1: (DISTANT) Hallway B is clear. Moving on target.

SOUND: WALKIE-TALKIE BEEP.

KHAN: You get a good look at ‘em?

JUNO: It’s pitch black in here, Khan, of course I didn’t get a good look at ‘em.

THEIA: May I suggest. Night-vision mode.

JUNO: …Yet. Did not get a good look yet. Will in a second. Come on, follow them.

SOUND: SOFT ELECTRIC HUM.

THEIA: Night-vision mode. Activated.

JUNO: Looks like they’re armed, and… it’s hard to make anything else out from this far away.

KHAN: Gun sounds like a good reason to stay far away to me.

JUNO: Unless they’re one of the gang’s lookouts – then we can’t risk losing ‘em.

KHAN: Muh, alright. Then I guess we’ll just stay far away from close up.

SOUND: WALKIE-TALKIE BEEP.

JUNO: Wait, they stopped!

VOICE 1: Reporting in. Just heard a noise outside the First Light Room. I’m gonna go check it out.

SOUND: WALKIE-TALKIE BEEP.

JUNO: Damn it, damn it, damn it!

KHAN: Don’t get your petticoat in a twist just yet, Steel.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Looks like our burglar oughta burgle some better ears. He’s walking away from us.

JUNO: He’s headed into that exhibit. Follow him.

SOUND: WALKIE-TALKIE BEEP. RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

VOICE 1: Didn’t find anything. Returning to group.

SOUND: WALKIE-TALKIE BEEP.

JUNO: You hear that? He’s going back!

KHAN: So?

JUNO: So we have to pick ‘em off one by one, don’t we? Learn what we can from each one, and then—

KHAN: Hang on. Something’s not right here.

What the hell are they trying to steal, exactly?

JUNO: I told you, I’m not gonna—

KHAN: —because you needed to come along, you said. Well, now you’re along. It sounds like we’re in the room they’re robbing.

JUNO: And while you’re wasting time, he’s gonna get away!

KHAN: So tell me, Steel. What are they stealing?

JUNO (NARRATOR): Sitting there in the dark, with Khan’s hand on my shoulder, all I could think about was that this was our moment and we were letting it pass us by. Because at the tail end of every failure case, there’s always one moment you can look back at and say to yourself, “I should have taken the shot.” A single mistake. A moment that you can beat yourself up about for years. Thinking about how if you’d just done it, if you’d just jumped when the time came to jump, it all would’ve worked out in the end.

Staring at that shadow in the doorway, I knew one thing: I wasn’t going to let this be that moment.

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

KHAN: Steel, what– what the hell are you doing, Steel? Get back here!

JUNO (NARRATOR): “I’m not gonna look back at this and wish I’d done something,” I thought.

And I was right. Later I’d look back and wish I hadn’t done anything.

JUNO: Hmf!

VOICE 1: Oof!

SOUND: HEAVY THUD. RUSTLING.

JUNO: Alright, buddy, you’re gonna tell me what your gang is after, and you’re gonna tell me now.

KHAN: Steel, he’s reaching for something!

JUNO (NARRATOR): So I panicked.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

VOICE 1: (GRUNTS)

KHAN: …A gun? Where the hell did you get a—

When did you take my gun?!

SOUND: ALARM.

God damn it, what now?

PIRANHA: (DISTANT) Ugh, the alarm! Unless you want a laser through each of your thick skulls, you’re gonna find who hit that god damn alarm, see!

JUNO: Come on, we have to hide. We’ll let the Piranha clean up her own mess.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

PIRANHA: Well? You see anybody?

PEREYRA: Hey there, no reason to get all excited. Looks like our party crasher just crashed.

KHAN: That voice… is that Mayor Pereyra?

JUNO (NARRATOR): It was. The Piranha. Two goons. And Pilot Pereyra.

What the hell were they doing here? Why the hell would a crime boss on Pilot’s level show up to their own heist?

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make any sense.

KHAN: Oh, no. No way, no how.

JUNO: What?

KHAN: That fancy eye of yours make you soft in the cerebellum? Look at that gangster’s face! She doesn’t recognize that poor sucker you just knocked out!

PIRANHA: Well, well. Just who the hell are you?

PEREYRA: Looks like a museum security guard. And it sounds like he flipped quite the alarm.

PIRANHA: Damn it, I thought you said you knew the patrol schedule!

PEREYRA: Hey, Pilot Pereyra makes the trains run on time, but I never promised to make the guards do the same.

PIRANHA: (GROWLS) Alright. If that’s how you wanna play it… plan B. We’ll have to blow our escape plan, but—

PEREYRA: Leave the escape to me. Now. Show us how it’s done.

PIRANHA: Fine. Hey, you. What’s your name?

VOICE 2: His name’s Mike. He doesn’t talk.

PIRANHA: Good for him. Hold this comms, Mike. We’re gonna take a home movie.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The Piranha stepped closer to the guard I’d stunned.

And she pointed her gun right at his head.

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

The Piranha’s flashlight caught his badge and I saw his name and… I’d never unsee it again: Barton Pollock. Barton. Sounded like my brother’s name, if you thought it fast enough, if your mind was spinning around it. Bart to his friends, or Barty? Kids, husband, wife, friends?

I felt so sick that when Pilot stepped forward, hand up, I even let myself get hopeful for a second.

PEREYRA: Hey, hey now… let’s not rush in without thinking, alright?

PIRANHA: You said solve it my way, so I’m solving it my way, see? You have a problem?

PEREYRA: I do, actually.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Maybe they’ve got a soul after all, I thought. Maybe this city isn’t as bad off as I thought it was.

PEREYRA: Your blaster’s on stun. Better set it to kill – you can tell the difference on video.

JUNO (NARRATOR): That thought didn’t last long.

PIRANHA: Thanks, Mx. Mayor. Start rolling, Mikey.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEP.

Dear Museum of Colonized History Security Force, HCPD nightowls, late-night comms scanners and all other busybodies: we know right about now all you got blasted with a hell of an alarm from this exhibit, and we know you’d probably like to do something about it.

Well. Me and my associates invite you to consider a different option, see: we got about a half-dozen hostages here we was hoping to trade for clean getaway, but if any of you flash so much as a siren? Well. We might just have to do something to those good citizens. Something… like… this.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

JUNO: No way. No way, no way, no way…

KHAN: (GRUNTS)

PIRANHA: Your move, coppers. (CACKLES) We’ll call again in fifteen minutes. Cut the feed, Mikey.

SOUND: BEEP.

How’s that for style?

PILOT: Not bad. Just… make sure I don’t end up in frame.

PIRANHA: I’m a professional, ain’t I? Now let’s go check on the hostages – and our map.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

JUNO: I can’t believe… I can’t believe she killed him. While he was out cold. Khan, what do we do?

Captain?

KHAN: Never should’ve listened to you. Damn it, god damn it, I knew I should’ve waited. I knew it!

JUNO: What…?

KHAN: You don’t know a thing about this heist, do you? You didn’t know the guard. You didn’t know Pereyra was gonna be here. You knew a little, sure, enough to dupe me. But this was all just another Juno Steel lie, wasn’t it?

JUNO: The heist was tonight. So what if I didn’t know everything? You were gonna sit back and just let it happen.

KHAN: You think that guard’s kids care which of us was right?

I can’t even blame you. I’m the one who listened. I’m the one you took the gun from. Damn it, I should’ve waited. Damn it!

JUNO: Khan?

KHAN: Just shut up and give me my gun.

JUNO: …Okay.

KHAN: We rushed in, that’s the problem. And now we’re… here.

(CLEARS THROAT) But it’s not gonna happen again, Steel.

MUSIC: STARTS.

You hear me? From here, we do it the way we always shoulda: slow. And nobody dies anymore, you hear me?

JUNO: Slow? But Captain—

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Khan grabbed me by the coat and pulled me so close I could smell the pasta on his breath – and see his eyes twitching, wild. Scared.

KHAN: We do this by the book. And the book says nobody. Dies.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Khan was in the kind of mood right then that you don’t argue with, so I didn’t. Didn’t tell him what I thought: that I had no idea what book he was talking about, but any book that tells you nobody’s gonna die is lying. Because you can romanticize the past all you want; put it in a nice case with a tasteful little plaque next to it, but the fact is, that the book of time is written in blood. Elections, colonization, policework… you don’t get the fancy statues and the pretty maps without dropping a few bodies along the way. Which isn’t to say those people deserved to die, or that their killers deserved to live. Just, that history is only written by those who live long enough to write it.

Barton Pollock didn’t deserve to die.

Yasmin Swift didn’t deserve to die.

I can’t even swallow the idea that the Proctor deserved to die, not while there was a way around it. But the fact was that they were dead and I was alive, and that had been the price to get to this moment… for now.

I was sure it would cost more before we were done. It always did. The best I could hope to do was make sure the right person footed the bill… even if that meant paying up myself.

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Kate Jones, Avi Meehan, and Joshua Ilon, and co-creator Sophie Kaner:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

SOPHIE: …Well I also think that, I’m sure, Joshua and Kate can, um, relate to… playing themselves. (LAUGHS)

KATE: What?

JOSHUA: I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.

AVI: Oh, can I say one more thing?

SOPHIE: Yeah!

AVI: Can I say one more thing? Can—

SOPHIE: Say two! Say three!

AVI: I think, another thing that was really exciting was, um I’m a non-binary hume [is this a word?], and getting the opportunity to play a non-binary character was sooo gosh-dang exciting for me, just because it’s sort of like, ‘alright, you’re small, you look kind of– you, you’re just a girl!’ And I’m like…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Francie Liana, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, Lynné Herman, Jaimie Gunter, and the Princess and the Scrivener for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Stolen City, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Elliot Sicard as Captain Omar Khan, Avi Meehan as Lieutenant Loo, Simon Moody as Mayor Pilot Pereyra, Sophie Kaner as the Piranha, Matthew Zahnzinger as Ramses O’Flaherty, and Kate Jones as Noor Khan.

On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director and sound designer. Grahame Turner is our script editor. Noah Simes is our production manager. Alice Chung is our designer and financial manager. Original music by Ryan Vibert. Promotional art by Mikaela Buckley.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

[italicwatches]

My Hero Academia, season 2 - Episode 27

(Deku tank rollin’ on in chuggada chuggada chug)

SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH

what were we talking about?

…Oh, right, I recap anime for internet points.

Well we need some way to make December seem closer. It’s My Hero Academia, episode 27! Here we GO!

-PREVIOUSLY ON My Hero Academia, it was established that everyone would be getting an internship, and that Deku got picked by Gran Torino. Who is built like a super fighting robot.

-Opening! THERE’S that new opening! Okay, that’s pretty hype.

-PRESENTLY ON My Hero Academia, Gran Torino insists he tripped while carrying his lunch of ketchup-covered sausages. I refuse to believe this is true. Also he’s so very old and is acting like his brain is swiss cheese.

-Then he gets all serious, and asks Deku to suit up and throw a charged punch at him right now to see what he can contain… And when Deku tries to protest, Gran snaps around him like a pinball! A small, angry pinball, demanding Deku fire off a shot!

-Episode 27: Bizarre! Gran Torino Appears

-Mmm, there’s that tasty vintage anime episode title format.

-So he saw Deku’s fight. And you fought like a beast, a wild animal. All Might’s a hell of a hero, but he’s a pathetic teacher. Now suit up and get ready, brat!

-And thus, Deku gets a little more serious, as he gets a proper look at his suit…His new suit, to be precise. The professional supersuit company designed one proper for him based on the rough concepts of his original suit, with a look more suited to his actual personality and abilities. And the letter that came with it outright admits that the designer did it so it would look cooler. Deku is quietly realizing that the entire support industry is full of countless Meis.

-So where is my support-industry spinoff?!

-Anyways, it’s a pretty solid suit, with extra elements. Heavy padding on his gloves and boots to handle strong impacts, as well as solid pads at all the joints. A classic utility belt. An easily removed hood, and a collar-mask that abandons the faux-grin of his original for something more abstract and knightly. It’s an excellent suit to handle what he’s working with…And Gran Torino is getting real tired of Deku being so hesitant to let loose. To think the latest holder of One For All is such a wet blanket!

-And Deku’s left trying to figure out a plan. Gran Torino’s moving fast, but he doesn’t seem to be able to redirect himself in midair, just rebound. Deku doesn’t know what his Quirk’s mechanics are, but in a tight space with little cover, just shutting down that movement is key. So, draw in power…Just a little power…Wait, and when he comes in…STRIKE!

-It’s a solid plan. An excellent plan. But Gran Torino predicts it, slips around it, and catches Deku, pinning him to the ground! You’re a quick thinker kid, but your mind is in the wrong place. You’re letting comparisons to All Might and your duty are just slowing you down. …Now get to cleaning up, while he goes and gets food. And then he’s gone.

-Cut over to Tenya on patrol, working with the local pro Manual. Who has a fish theme. Things are generally quiet here; they work more on street patrol and working the beat than on being ready for big fights. And Manual’s honored that Tenya would pick their little agency to intern at…While Tenya, Tenya is just focused on trying to find a lead on Stain, on the bastard that took down his brother…!

-Speaking of, Stain is in front of Tomura and Kurogiri at their vaguely swanky styled bar, because they want to recruit him. And Tomura would sure like a proper killer who can help take down All Might…And some of these kids who proved far too presumptuous.

-…Yeah, Stain’s out. His whole deal is a very specific motive and focus, not some childish tantrum. He’s not just out, he draws a set of knives, ready to fight his way out.

-Back with Deku, he’s trying to sort out what Gran told him…And he starts to put together some ideas, as out comes the notebook. He’s been too busy thinking of One For All, and the smashes, as a special move, a singular technique, but it’s not…It’s a state of being! An enhanced state, a super mode! It can affect every movement, every thought and strategy! Yes, yes, he can use that! Soon he’s frantically making notes, as Gran listens in. The kid’s sharp as a tack, when he’s pointed at a problem the right way…

-To the center of Tokyo, where Katsuki finds himself working under the highest-rank hero who he could…And the man who’s going to be handling him, Best Jeanist, knows it. He doesn’t like the rough types…But that’s also why he put the call in. You’re good, Katsuki. You’re skilled, and he freely admits that. But, you’re brash. Rough. Violent. And above all, unfocused. Getting you to dial back and dial in, that’s his goal.

-So Katsuki’s pissed. And then he’s wrapped up in threads when he steps forward without paying enough attention. Threads under Best Jeanist’s control. The entire point of you being here, is to learn to hone yourself. To be a hero, and not just a natural disaster waiting to happen.

-Let’s see some others. Kirishima and Tetsutetsu are at the same agency. They’ve completely given up on fighting it and are just glad to be able to work hard, under the four-armed hero Fourth Kind, who wants to teach these two kids finesse. And some proper respect.

-He also lays out the unique nature of pro heroes as a lifestyle. There’s a base stipend from the government as your official employer, but this is not some office job of civil servitude, oh no.

-Cut to Ochaco working with Gunned on a patrol, as he continues a similar lecture. A lot of their job is about controlling crime, keeping it limited, since you can’t really prevent it. It’s ultimately a job of response, and paperwork. Lots, and lots, of paperwork, since filing your heroic actions is how you get paid beyond your stipend. Also, Ochaco’s thing for manly men with gentle hearts and hard abs is kind of kicking on full blast right now.

-To a local TV station, where the snake heroine Uwabami explains that heroes are allowed to do side work and promotions…For example, she’s about to do a commercial. Which her new interns for the week, Momo and a redheaded girl from class B, Kendo Itsuka, should stick around and watch. Itsuka is unsure, Momo is more ready to take any lesson she can get. And Uwabami outright admits she picked them because they’re cute and she likes cute girls.

-To Jiro working with the big man Death Arms, who’s making her do a lot of running. She is…Unhappy about this.

-Hard contrast to Mt. Lady, who is lounging and snacking and reading comics, while she makes the human trash clean her apartment. This is good.

-Tsu’s out helping a ship crew, and doing pushups with them.

-And then, to Shoto…Who’s working under his father, to make a point.

-To the end of the first night! Deku’s left all alone, still awake and trying to figure out anything about Gran Torino. But his record is…Spotty, at best, with little to no information on him available online. He taught at UA, so he has to be good, but he only taught for one year, so…

-So Deku puts that aside, and goes out to an empty part of town to think. Right now, he has to turn One For All on, and it takes some buildup. He needs to be able to just have a low-level amount of it going through an entire fight…And so he starts by focusing, putting a low amount of power into his legs as he stands in an alleyway, and makes a leap, trying to walljump!

-And cracks his face on the wall. This is a perfect test, because he has to be able to do it on sheer instinct. Ahead of time, he can see the plan; charge for a leap. Charge in his hands to take the impact, then a push from his legs to leap off the wall to the far one, where he repeats and repeats until he’s on the roof. None of the actions are actually that hard…But they all call for him to be able to flip back and forth, from hands to legs, in a split second.

-And he tries again, and again, as a pair of passersby just make damn sure it’s not their problem.

-By the time morning arrives…Deku never got any sleep, so now he’s exhausted and bruised when Gran checks on him. Also that gets him to briefly talk about how All Might was as a student.

-…The guy figured out the basic use of One For All pretty much right away, but he was such a meathead that getting tactics out of him was just a matter of practical training. Which is to say, he kept punching and punching and punching All Might every single day until he figured out how to actually fight.

-And it was what he had to do. His dear friend entrusted him with All Might’s training in the wake of his own passing…Which is the first Deku’s hearing about this. He doesn’t know about the seventh holder…

-But also they have a new microwave to replace the one Gran Torino shattered under his body yesterday. In go treats, as Deku keeps trying to figure it out…Also he didn’t make the food right because he put a plate too big for the microwave in so the food didn’t turn properly. …Wait…Wait wait wait!

-He always used the metaphor of a microwave. But his microwave at home was an old style, without the rotating platter. So he was always thinking of putting energy into one place, then stopping and putting it somewhere else. The way you do when cooking food in that kind of microwave. Not just suffusing it through his entire body at once! In that moment, Deku manages to pull it together, pulls on One For All, and manages to hold 5% across his frame…It’s tough. It’s intense. It’s like nothing he’s felt before. And it’s fucking amazing. He’s got to see how this works now!

-Credits! With fantasy versions of our heroes! So someone’s already done a big writeup on this as an entire setting, right? Also are we gonna talk about shirtless barbarian Katsuki and what I’m sure that did for the Deku/Katsuki shippers, or…?

Okay, that’s a hell of a way to open up the next wave. I cannot wait to see what comes next. We’ll find out next time, in episode TWENTY EIGHT of My Hero Academia! Wait for it!

[vivaciouswordsmith]

Here’s chapter 9

Originally planned this as a 10 chapter fic. Clearly it’s going to be longer than that. Oh well.

As always, you can read it here or beneath the cut. Enjoy! :D

Chapter 9: A Job Gone Wrong

The job sounded simple enough. 

A lesser crew had broken ties with the Fakes and were holding up in some rundown hangar in the desert. Jeremy and his friends were the metaphorical cleaners, tasked with going in and wiping them all out. The definition of busywork, really.

Still, Jeremy couldn’t help but feel excited. He’d already tucked his gloves into his pockets during the drive so he could flick the sweat off his hands. Then he spent a few minutes looking out the window, one leg bouncing up and down in the floorboard. He then checked his sniper rifle for the fifth time since the ride began.

“Will you cut that out?” Jeremy blinked and looked up. Matt’s reflection glared at him from the rearview mirror. “You’re freaking me out.”

“I just want to be ready, y’know?”

“Jeremy’s all excited.” Their partner-in-crime leaned over the center console and grinned at him. “Wants to get in good with all those Fake boys.”

“Oh, hi, Mr. Kettle. Name’s Pot. How’re you doing?” Jeremy flipped him off and leaned back against his seat. “Seriously, fuck you, Trevor.”

Trevor just shrugged. His smile didn’t even twitch. It was kind of amazing, actually, how cool and happy Trevor was with their style of life. Nothing seemed to faze him at all. If Jeremy had a dime for every tightassed, backstabbing, piece of shit criminal he’d met over the years, he could afford his own goddamn penthouse. Somehow, all of the hardships and toil that came with a life outside the law had rolled off Trevor with ease. Either that or he was very, very good at hiding his true feelings.

“We’re almost there.”

Jeremy was jolted out of his little reverie, and he quickly went back to staring out the window. Jesus, the hangar looked even worse than it had in the pictures. At one point in the past the ribbed siding had been made of metal, but now it appeared to be made of rust. There were so many holes he could see clear through to the other side of the building. Through a slanted window, he could see a little prop plane at the very rear of the hangar. Shadows flitted across the window and the various other holes in the walls.

“I see ‘em.” The last of his jitters faded, and he straightened in his street. “Drop me off here. I’ll pick off the runners while you guys take out the main group. That sound good?”

“Is that…not…what we agreed on?” Matt asked.

“It’s good to hear it again, at least.” Trevor pulled out a pistol and wiped it down. “Well, no time like the present.”

“I guess.” Matt pulled the car over and switched it off. “And if things go to shit?”

Trevor scoffed. “With a gang this small?” He popped the door open and stepped out into the desert. “Now, c’mon boys! Let’s get these rascals.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re working on it.”

Jeremy stepped out and headed up one of the nearby dunes. It was already starting to get dark, so out of the three of them, he’d be the safest during this operation. Matt and Trevor would be in the most danger, but hopefully they’d get the drop on everyone and take them all out before they got hurt. With any luck, they’d be home in forty-five minutes.

Still, he couldn’t stop fidgeting. Even though there wasn’t any sort of technology nearby, nor any other cars besides theirs, he swore he could feel eyes watching him. His skin prickled, and every hair stood on end. A brief fantasy of standing beside his idols as their equal flitted into his head. His heart flipped in his chest, and his stomach trembled excitedly.

‘Stop that,’ he told himself. ‘We gotta focus on the job. Then we can fantasize.’

He shook off the remainder of his reverie and tapped at the lapel of his jacket. “Can you guys hear me okay?” he asked.

“Ow! Yeah, we can fucking hear you! Jesus.” He glanced through his scope in time to see Matt give him the finger. “Don’t do that again.”

“Okay, Matt, how else am I supposed to test the fucking radio?”

“I don’t know!”

“Cut it out! We’re almost there, so don’t blow our cover!” Trevor crouched down on one side of the door and glanced inside. “You still watching, Jeremy?”

“Yep, still here, not going anywhere,” he said.

“Okay. On the count of three, Matt, we go in and fuck ‘em up.”

“Got it.”

“Okay. One…two…three!”

They both moved in and sprayed the hangar with bullets. Jeremy watched sparks and blood rain down onto the cracked cement. One unfortunate tried to head for the hills, but with one squeeze of the trigger, Jeremy quickly put an end to that. In seconds, the fight was over.

“Okay, all done,” said Matt. “Ready to go home?”

“Uh, does something feel off to you?” asked Trevor.

Jeremy frowned. “What d’you mean?”

“There were only four guys. I mean, I know this was a small crew, but…four guys?”

“Yeah, that seems weird.” Jeremy scanned over the carnage, which now seemed much less carnage-y with only three dudes’ worth of blood on the pavement. Several bits of brain and skull spattered one of the wings of the prop plane, but otherwise everything looked normal.

Way too normal.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, and every muscle in his shoulders tensed. He switched his attention from the hangar to the highway. A brick settled firmly in his stomach at the sight of several black vehicles stopping in the shoulder and loosing several heavily armed men.

“Oh my God, you guys need to get out of there right now.”

“What? Why? The fuck’s going on?”

“We’ve been duped, that’s what! This is a fucking trap!” He took aim and fired. One of the men’s heads exploded in a shower of brain and blood, and he slumped to the ground. The attack force immediately scattered like startled ants. Most of them now sprinted toward the hangar, while several peeled off and headed for Jeremy’s position. “Fucking run!”

“And get gunned down in the open? No fucking way!”

“Matt, don’t be stupid!”

Jeremy took another shot. This one snagged a man in the shoulder and sent him spinning to the ground in a halo of blood. More gunshots rang out over the tarmac. They’d reached the hangar. Jeremy’s jaw tightened, but he focused on his own problems for the time being.

“Matt’s right, we might as well stay in here!” More gunshots rang out over the comm. “Besides, we, uh, we’re kind of boxed in anyway.”

Jeremy managed to pick off another assailant before they were upon him. He jumped back and pulled out his pistol. Before he could get off a shot, one man leveled a shotgun at him and fired. He dived to the side, but several bits of buckshot caught his exposed arm and side. Blood bloomed in several places on his jacket, and then the pain flared all over his body. He grit his teeth and shot back. Most of his shots were wildly off the mark, but he at least managed to get two guys. He scrambled to get back to his feet and away from the gang members.

“We’re pinned down!” Matt’s shout was barely audible over the renewed hail of gunfire. “Jeremy, if you could help, that would be great!”

Jeremy skittered away and propped himself up against a nearby crate. “I’m getting shot! The fuck am I supposed to do?!”

“I don’t know! Call for backup? Fucking shoot them?”

“What’s the Fakes’ general channel?” Trevor asked.

Jeremy blinked. “Why are you asking that now?”

“We might need backup.”

A round of gunfire and swearing drowned out whatever response might have come next. Jeremy managed to pop another guy, but the man next to him managed to shoot him in the shin in response. A brief flare of pain washed up his leg and into his torso, but a wave of adrenaline managed to drown it out. He wobbled to his feet, peeked around the box, and shot another fucker right through the eyes.

“That is a huge fucking understatement,” he finally replied. “I can try calling for backup, but I’m not sure if they can make it in time.”

“Where – shit – where the – goddammit! – where are all these guys coming from?” asked Matt.

“How the fuck should I know?” Jeremy pulled the little radio out of his breast pocket and twisted the knob this way and that. His fingers were shaking horribly, but eventually he found the channel used for general Fake business.

“Hello? Hey! If anyone’s listening, B-team needs help! That job was a trap! We’re on the desert airstrip, and we’re completely surrounded!” That was all he managed to get out before the radio took the brunt of another bullet and shattered into shrapnel. He swore up a storm and spun around, shooting as wildly as he could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He managed to wrench himself away from the crate, wincing at the slow unsticking of his bloody jacket from the wood, and lurched toward the hangar. Several dead bodies lay in pools of blood, but several more very live bodies had taken shelter on either side of the hangar and were taking potshots at Trevor and Matt. He cracked one on the back of his head with the butt of his gun and threw himself into the hangar. He dragged himself behind yet another crate and cracked a grin at his two partners.

“Hey guys! How’s it going?” he said. “I’ve, uh, gotten shot, like, a lot.”

“We are so fucked,” said Matt. “Unless you’ve got any bright ideas.”

Jeremy shrugged and turned away to reload his gun. While his hands were preoccupied, his gaze landed on the plane. His brain worked for a few minutes, and then he groaned and nearly facepalmed.

“Oh my god, we’re so fucking stupid.”

“What?”

He pulled himself to his feet and gestured to the plane. “Escape! Right here!”

The other two looked at the plane, looked at Jeremy, looked at the plane, and then gaped at Jeremy.

“None of us can fly a plane,” said Matt.

“We’re fucking criminals! Who gives a shit if we can’t fly it?!”

“Uh, I’d rather not die,” said Trevor.

Jeremy huffed loudly and gesticulated at the advancing gangsters. “Okay. Then you can stay here and definitely die, or we can try to fly the plane and maybe die.”

Trevor and Matt fired back at the rival gang for a few seconds before looking back at Jeremy and nodding. He nodded back, ran forward and pulled the plane’s door open. It only had two seats, but hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers. As soon as Trevor and Matt reached him, he shoved them into the plane.

“There’s only one other seat, so you guys’ll have to share,” he said.

“Fun,” said Matt, but otherwise he didn’t complain. He sat down first, Trevor sat in his lap, and Jeremy pulled himself into the pilot’s seat.

The realization that he had no idea how to fly a plane hadn’t really hit him until that moment, and he spent several precious seconds blinking dumbly at the control panel. It didn’t help that his brain was fogged with blood loss and adrenaline. The first few bullets ricocheting off the plane jolted him out of his stupor, and he immediately started flipping switches and pushing buttons desperately. After a few moments, there was a loud bang, the engine stuttered, and the propeller slowly started to spin. Jeremy let the controls be for the moment and grasped the yoke tightly.

The propeller picked up speed, and the plane inched forward. The wings made awful, screechy metal on wood noises upon contact with the crates, but thankfully no damage seemed to be done and they pushed past them. The plane picked up speed and headed for the mouth of the hangar. Several gangsters saw them coming and threw themselves out of the way, others didn’t see them until too late, and Jeremy grimaced at the sound of their cut-off shrieks of pain. The plane’s tires rolled ponderously over the bodies littering the tarmac, and then they were on the runway.

“You should probably turn now, Jeremy,” said Trevor.

“I’m working on it,” he said.

“Jeremy,” said Matt. He pushed himself back into the seat at the sight of the rapidly approaching foliage.

“I’m working on it!” He wrenched at the yoke and slammed his palm down on the control panel. The plane turned so hard he was pressed against the door, and then it hurtled down the runway. He pulled back on the yoke as hard as he could, and the plane lurched off the ground and wobbled into the air.

“Oh my God, we’re going to fucking die,” said Matt.

“Fuck off, Matt,” said Jeremy.

They flew for several minutes without much outside incident. Full darkness had descended by now, and Jeremy wasn’t exactly in the best state to be doing much of anything, so they were long and tense minutes. Thankfully, Trevor had managed to calm down enough to help Jeremy figure out how to get back to Los Santos, so with their powers combined, they were making their swift way back to base.

By the time the dappled lights of the Los Santos cityscape were beneath the plane, Jeremy’s adrenaline high had worn off, and boy did he feel awful. Every single bullet wound burned and throbbed, and his head felt fuzzier and fuzzier by the minute. It was like being drunk, but much, much more painful. His wooziness meant the plane nosedived and pitched around the sky. His companions yelled and shrieked from beside him, but the words couldn’t reach him. His fading brain suddenly registered a large yellow H on the horizon, and the word helipad floated across his consciousness. He made a beeline for it, ears ringing with meaningless shouts.

By the time Jeremy reached the helipad, the blood loss had finally become too much, and he fell into darkness.

333

Everything hurt.

That was the first thing Jeremy was aware of when he started waking up. He did his best to think back to how and why he was in so much pain, but his mind had nothing to offer him. His eyes fluttered open and were immediately overwhelmed by bright white light. He swore and blinked until the light faded into something manageable.

The next thing he realized was that he had no idea where he was. The room he was lying in was small and painted a dull shade of off-white. There were no decorations to speak off, save for a white bedside table next to his bed. An IV stand stood in front of this bedside table. Four bags hung from its spindly arms; two of them were empty and had little rivulets of orangey-white liquid running through their empty shells, while the other two were half full of clear liquid.

He groaned and tried to push himself upright. That resulted in his third realization – that something was weighing down his middle. He craned his neck as far as it would go and locked eyes with a giant grinning skull. He let out a mewling cry and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Jeremy? You awake, man?”

He blinked an eye open and saw Matt standing over him. One of his arms was in a sling, but otherwise he seemed to be unharmed. He relaxed as much as his oh-so-sore body let him and managed to smile up at his friend. “Hi, Matt.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t believe it. I mean, they said you’d pull through, but I wasn’t actually sure you’d do it.”

His smile faltered, and he tried to push himself up again. “Who’s they? Also, how the fuck am I alive right now?”

“That’s the thing! I don’t know how the fuck it happened, but somehow you crash-landed right on top of the Fakes’ fucking penthouse! Thank God we did, otherwise we would have been up shit creek without a paddle.” Matt moved closer and put his good hand on Jeremy’s arm. “They’ve been taking care of you since then.”

A different, less painful fluttering seized Jeremy’s stomach. “You mean…we’re in the main crew’s penthouse?” Matt nodded. “And they’ve been taking care of us?” He nodded again. “Oh my God, I think I’m going to start crying.”

Matt opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden growling cut him off, followed by him recoiling with a swear. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not trying to hurt him!”

Jeremy blinked dumbly. “Who’re you talking to?”

Matt pointed at Jeremy’s torso. “I’m talking to…whatever the fuck his name is.”

Jeremy blinked again and craned his neck as far as it would go. This time, he finally saw what was weighing him down. The long black-and-white body of the Fakes’ wolfdog was draped over his midsection and legs. His muzzle was currently where Matt’s hand had just been, but when he heard Jeremy’s little gasp, his attention immediately switched to the injured criminal. The markings on his face sparked a chain of recognition in his brain; so that was the skull he saw floating over him. And here was him thinking he was dying or something.

“Hey, buddy,” he said. He reached out a hand, grimaced when the IV twinged painfully, and switched to the other hand. Ryan bumped his head against Jeremy’s hand. His nose bumped against his torso and he let out a loud whine. “What’re you doing here?”

“He hasn’t left you since you got here,” said Matt. “They had a hell of a fucking time trying to bandage you up, apparently.”

“Aww, were you worried about me, buddy?” The pup whined again and licked his hand. Jeremy managed a smile and scratched behind Ryan’s half-ear

“Seriously, though, he’s tried to bite anyone who’s tried to get near you. Including Caleb. You know, the fucking doctor.” Matt shook his head, but wisely did not approach the bed again. “It shocked the hell out of everyone else.”

Jeremy nodded and leaned back against his pillows. “Is Trevor okay?”

“Yeah. Somehow we all managed to survive. I still can’t believe it.”

“What’s Geoff got to say about all of this?”

“He’s pissed, I know that much.” Matt picked awkwardly at the strap of his sling and shifted from foot to foot. “I guess he’s just mad that all this shit slipped under the radar.”

“Makes sense.” A new wave of exhaustion washed over Jeremy. He yawned widely and sunk into the pillows.

“I should probably tell Geoff you’re awake, huh?”

“Better do it quick,” he yawned.

“Yeah, so, uh, goodbye.” Matt hurried out the door and into the depths of the penthouse. Jeremy laid his hand on top of Ryan’s head and shut his eyes. The pup whined again and laid his head on his chest.

Before anyone could return to the room, Jeremy was fast asleep once again.