#so if the landlady has anything to do with it then im going to pull every card i have | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pbandjesse · 4 years ago

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I started feeling nauseous all of a sudden. I am just sipping water now trying to feel better.

Today was a really nice day though. I slept okay. Getting up was hard. SweetP had woken James up at like 630 am with his collar making bell sounds. But I woke up with James still in bed and I always like that. I did fall back asleep and woke up when I heard James getting dressed to go for a bike ride. And then woke up the final time when he got back. It was a little after 9 and I felt okay.

I got a shower. And James made us pumpkin pancakes. I played animal crossing for a little while. But then we decided to try to play one of the new games we downloaded last night. It was fun to play a game together. This one is about childhood memories and it makes me a little dizzy but the story is really ethereal and I am enjoying it.

We hung out and played games until around noon. Then it was decided we would head to Hamden. As we were getting ready to go our landlady, Tina, knocked on the door to let us know she has contacted the plumber and he has put us on his list. Thats cool, we dont need it that bad, its just a little luxury. Honestly more cabinets would be nice but if the dishwasher gets replaced its all good. Shes very nice to us and gives us fruit. So she's better than any landlord Ive ever had before.

Mr Will teased us as we left with our bikes. It was a lot warmer out then I expected it to be. So I took my sweater off as soon as we got outside. I felt really pretty today. I love this new dress. I was just having a very good day.

And the biking was good. I had to stop once at the top of the hill. But it was all good. And the second hill we encountered we just walked. But my favorite part was biking through druid hill park. We got to go so fast and there was really nice nature and it was just a good time.

It was nice just being outside with James. Talking about nothing. Looking at people's tiny yards and what they chose to do with them. It was a nice time. A group of women remarked about me biking in a short dress and how thats what they wish they could do. And I pulled my dress up and was like.. I got shorts!! Had a good laugh.

We went to the coffee shop I like and I got a thai tea and James got a latte and we walked to the park to have our drinks and people watch. We talked about jobs and me wanting to move away. Fears. It was good to be together and the drinks were good.

But it was almost time for James to head to work. He needed to eat before his shift. So we walked back to where we locked up our bikes and said goodbye.

I didnt want to go home. But I also didnt know where to bike. I kind of bopped around for a while until I decided I would go down to the harbor and go to lush. This would be the longest ride I had done in a long time.

But it was actually great. I had my podcast. I got downtown. There were way to many people out but it was whatever. I stayed away.

I got to lust and had to wait outside until less people were in there. Im glad they are keeping the number down.

The woman who helped me was lovely. I got the body powder I already like, but the ointments I was prescribed is making me feel very greasy and kind of gross. Like its absolutely working on my arms. Legs Im still not sure of, but arms for sure. But putting lotion on top of everything is making me feel kind of dirty. And it turned out she had scalp psoriasis and was super helpful! She suggested an inshower lotion. So I got that and a few samples of other things she thought would help. And so far so good because I used it after a bath tonight and my skin feels pretty nice! She was very kind. And we had a moment where a beautiful dog came in the shop and we both Awed. Very cute.

I left there and went across the street to look at the new Whole Foods. I gave a nice man directions. I didnt find anything I wanted to eat at the Whole Foods though so off I went.

When I got back to my bike I saw I had a missed call from my dad. I texted him and decided to bike to a quiet place to call him back.

I biked back towards the lighthouse on the water. Passed a man with a beautiful colorful bike, I had to stop and tell him it was beautiful and he said mine was too. And soon enough I was by the lighthouse and there werent many people over there.

I called my dad and we talked for a half hour. I enjoyed being near the water. But soon mom was home with a sandwich for him and we said goodbye. And I got back on my bike.

I wanted fries. But I couldnt figure out from where. So I decided to head towards home and go to the mcdonalds on north avenue. I had some funny moments on eutaw while biking back. Guys on the corner waving at me and being shocked when I waved like a toddler back at them. Gotta make them laugh when they try to catcall me I guess? Remind them Im a person too.

I biked in a weird direction to go past my old apartment. My old neighborhood. And it avoided a hill I dont like going up.

I got my fries and a soda and decided to take it to the park near us. Not like park across the street, but the one with the big fountain down the street. And that was a good idea.

The flea market that is there sometimes was still there! Cleaning up for the day. I looked a little but I didnt want to bother them. I went and sat by some roses and they smelled really nice and I felt good.

But my butt hurts from my bike seat. And I hit a bump at thought I wounded myself?? I think I am just bruised.

I got home and some mail had come. The tiny teddy bears I ordered came. I am still waiting on some supplies for making them into earrings. I have little heart beads coming to. But I made myself one pair just to see if they would be heavy but they are not and I love them. They are all so special and have their own faces. I chose my favorite ones to keep. I hope my hair doesnt stain the white bears.

I have spent the rest of tonight just chilling. I played the video game a little more. I took a bath. And I listened to scary stories.

Now it is almost 10 and I hope James will be home soon. I hope you all have a good night. And I hope tomorrow is a really good day for you all. Goodnight everyone.

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keelywolfe · 6 years ago

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FIC: Pick Up and Put Down

Summary: It’s another day at the Embassy. Edge is accustomed to getting texts from a number of people but not quite like this.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Flirting, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Prejudice Against Monsters, Threats of Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort

Warning: This chapter has a reference to suicide. It is NOT, I repeat, NOT any character from any Undertale universe. It is also NOT any of my OC’s that you may have grown to know and love. No one that has made an appearance anywhere before, okay? That said, if you find a reference to suicide triggering or upsetting, skip this one.

part of the ‘by any other name’

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

The first text came only a few minutes after Edge arrived at work. He parked in the secure lot, walking through the side gate that led to the main entrance without taking him past the protestors. Distantly, he heard the rising shouts as they caught sight of him and if he bothered to glance in their direction, he would see them waving their signs. For Humans who claimed they were concerned for the safety of their children, they didn’t seem particularly worried about them seeing their hate-filled rhetoric and vulgar demands. Edge ignored them. He was too far away to even make out what they were shouting, much less for them to harm him even if they could, and he doubted they would make an attempt. Janice had been an easy target for their hatred and as much as he knew it would only make things worse in the long run, something ruthless at his core wished they would try him. It wouldn’t teach them anything about love, but the part of him that would never leave Underfell behind thought they could use a lesson about LV. The chime of his phone distracted him from those thoughts and Edge paused in the lobby to check it. if you were a juice, you’d be fineapple Unwillingly, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. A little charming ridiculousness from Stretch was more than welcome this morning and instead of answering, Edge only noted that the message had been read. Partly because he had no affection for emoticons and partly because Stretch would be aggravated by it. An aggravated Stretch was by far the most entertaining and it was going to be a long day. He could use the promise of playful harassment. With a short nod to the security guard, Edge scanned his ID badge and made his way to the third floor. Janice was already at her desk, typing furiously when he walked in. “Good morning,” she said briskly, barely glancing up from the screen. “You have a meeting in an hour, I left the informational packet on your desk.” “Thank you,” Edge told her crisply. He left her to her work and went on to his office to prepare. Before the door was even closed, his phone chimed again. are you a banana? because i find you ap-peeling With a head shake, Edge put his phone back in his pocket and hung up his coat. Next to the folder there was already a cup of coffee waiting, steam wafting gently. That was the benefit of always being prompt, it gave his assistant the foresight of knowing when to get coffee. Two pages into the report, he was a hell of a lot more grateful for the coffee. This meeting was going to be thrilling, he could already tell. An hour and a half later, Edge was damning himself for being proven right, listening to the presenter droning away. Even Papyrus, who was sitting on the other side of the table with the other diplomats, had to jerk his head up when it started to bob drowsily. Edge was thinking idly of sending for a pot of coffee for the room when his phone buzzed. He never turned it off anymore, not after the attack on New New Home, and no one gave him so much as a glance as he discreetly checked the message. i know you’re busy today, but can you add me to your to-do list? This time, his smile almost broke free. It was an effort to school his expression to attentiveness, staring at the PowerPoint with polite interest. Another half hour dragged by, but his phone stayed unfortunately silent, and in the end, a round of coffee was brought for everyone. It almost helped. It wasn’t until he was back at his desk, his lunch set out so that he could eat while he worked, that his phone chimed again. He took a bite of his Greek couscous salad before he looked at the text, savoring the rich flavors. Absently, he wondered what Stretch was having for lunch; there were plenty of options in the refrigerator to choose from, even if he usually preferred simpler, often greasier, fare. baby if you were words on a page, you’d be what they call fine print His smile was reluctant, but it was there even after he finished eating. Throughout the day, the texts came. While he was talking to Antwan about an upcoming court case regarding Monsters rights in private businesses— are you an astronomer? because i want you to study this heavenly body When he got a cup of coffee from the lounge to help him get through the afternoon, already thinking longing thoughts towards the Beanery’s reopening and being able to get his preferred coffee beans again— if you were a chicken, you’d be im-peck-able And during his brief meeting with Asgore to discuss the construction of a new Embassy that was being planned in California and housing requirements for the Monsters who were in need of warmer climes. if nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing? It was close to the time he normally left that his phone finally rang, and Edge answered it, already anticipating a flood of puns and ridiculous lines to carry him home. “babe?” Stretch said and Edge stiffened instantly at the shakiness in that single word. “What’s wrong?” he asked sharply. There was a quavering breath on the other end of the line, and Stretch asked, “have you seen the news at all?” “No, I’ve been in my office. Hold on.” He started pulling up the local news on his laptop, but Stretch hadn’t stopped, his voice low and trembling, “they caught him. i mean, they didn’t really catch him, they found him.” “Found who?” Edge was scrolling, scanning the webpage, trying to find what had him so upset. He saw it at the same moment Stretch blurted out, “the guy! the guy who burned down the beanery. it…it’s the same guy from the bus. the one who…who attacked me.” It was. Edge recognized him from police report, the court documents, and the one time he’d seen him in person. There was nothing remarkable about him, only a middle-aged Human, and Edge couldn’t see into the souls of others, couldn’t see their sins. This Human kept his hatred hidden beneath a veneer of civility, invisible at a glance to most. It didn’t matter, Edge could sense his LV even without a Check. This man had hurt plenty of others before Monsters had even stepped from beneath the mountain. He remembered seeing this Human in court when Antwan was defending Jeff after the attack on the bus. He’d been there as the injured party, claiming he’d been the one attacked. Edge had no doubt that was exactly what he believed. To him, Monsters had attacked simply by existing and Stretch being in his space was nothing short of an assault. He usually enjoyed watching Antwan in a courtroom as he calmly and ruthlessly disassembled the arguments of the other side. Edge hadn’t stayed that day, wanting to be as far from that Human as possible. For the Human’s protection, not his own. The mental picture of him trying to strike Stretch for the simple act of being made his own LV stir in uncomfortable ways. And now according to the news article, he was dead. “the police aren’t saying much yet,” Stretch rushed out, something close to panic lacing his words. “but...but…there’s plenty of rumors online. so far they’re saying it looks like a suicide. edge, they’re saying he had a plan to plant a bomb in the embassy, they—" “Shh, calm down,” Edge soothed, reading with narrowed eyes, even as he typed a quick message to the Intel team. He wanted information about this, and he wanted it now. Stretch’s breathing was too quick, his voice thick and hoarse, and more than a little unsteadily . “i know you guys have great security and everything, i mean, your brother is usually on this shit. Fuck, i’m surprised he wasn’t already.” A trickle of coldness ran down Edge’s spine at the mention of his brother, like tiny icicles prickling up his vertebra. “Suicide…” Edge murmured, reading through the news article avidly. It wasn’t possible that the police had released this much information so quickly, Intel would need to see if they could root out their source. “yeah,” Stretch swallowed hard enough that Edge heard the dry click through the line. “i guess his landlady found him, said he hung himself. left a note and everything.” Edge was sure that he had, and a detailed one at that. “he had a bunch of anti-monster stuff, they found his plans for the arson at the beanery. and his note mentioned the embassy, but…but…why would he kill himself before he did it, that doesn’t make sense, does it? i mean, i haven’t seen the note but, babe, what if he tried something, what if there is something there, what if—" “He couldn’t have gotten onto the grounds without being detected,” Edge reminded him, still reading. “We’ve got plenty of magic and technology preventing it.” Stretch exhaled rattlingly loud. “yeah. yeah, i know, i get it, i was just worried, you know? this is all so much happening, and it had to be this guy, didn’t it, why the fuck couldn’t he just leave us alone, we never did anything to him and—” his voice broke, faltering. That attack on the bus had shaken Stretch badly at the time and now he was trapped reliving it, only to discover the perpetrator had stolen more from him than he could have possibly guessed. “I’m coming home,” Edge told him abruptly. Listening to this, knowing Stretch was dealing with it alone, was growing too painful; he could work from home if needs be. “what? no, i’m okay.” To his relief, Stretch calmed a little at that, breathing deeply. “andy is on his way over, he’s kind of shaken, too. he knew the guy from court and he ain’t crying over him, but it’s still fucked up, yeah? stay there, you’ve probably got a ton of things to do now that this shitshow is starting up.” He did, he would, but leaving Stretch to deal with this on his own, even with Jeff at his side, did not sit well. “Are you sure?” “yeah, yeah, we’ll watch some movies or something, spend the night chilling out. babe? be careful, okay? just…be careful.” “I promise,” Edge said softly. A message was beeping through on his phone, but Edge ignored it for a moment. “holding you to that. i love you.” “I love you, too.” He hung up and sat back in his chair, pressing the hard case of the phone against his forehead for a long moment. Then he looked at the message. It was from Red and Edge felt his soul pulse once, one white-hot flareup of LV, as he read it. why did the man trapped in the burning house start swinging a baseball bat? because three strikes and you’re out. For one brief second everything was too hot, his vision wavering. Then Edge let out a long, slow breath, flexing his hands as he took back control. First, he deleted his brother’s text. Their cell phones ran through Monster servers and until Humans had access to magic, they were unhackable by any of their means. It was nothing more than a ridiculous joke, no reason to keep it and that was exactly what he would say if he were asked. He wouldn’t be, the chances were infinitesimal, but Edge preferred to be prepared for anything, including near impossibilities. That done, Edge silently opened one of his file cabinets and took out a thick folder, filled with reports. They were all written by his brother in a language that very few Monsters could read. He honestly wasn’t sure if Stretch was one of them. There was nothing truly incriminating in them. Edge had read them all and while they stated some of Red’s suspicions, he hadn’t been able to prove anything concrete, certainly not enough to take to the fickle Ebott police. He pushed them through the shredder, anyway, meticulously. Five sheets at a time and watched as the cross blades turn them into confetti. Chances were that no one would ask him any awkward questions. But if they did, Edge could in all honesty say he didn’t know anything. This was nothing more than plausible deniability coupled with healthy caution and it was nothing but the truth that Edge didn’t know anything. He could look his husband in the face and repeat that truth. He could. There were lines he wouldn’t, couldn’t cross, not even for his brother. When he was finished, Edge went back to his desk and got to work. He was going to be here very late, messages were already pouring in and he could hear Janice’s phone continually ringing. There would need to be press releases and statements despite the fact that Monsters had not been involved. It would be officially ruled suicide eventually, Edge had no doubt. The Security team would need to assess the threat as well; as confident as he was in their security measures, arrogance was a quick path to catastrophe. Before he could begin opening the multiple messages and emails that were pouring in, Edge caught sight of the darkened screen on his phone and hesitated. He picked it up, his fingers resting briefly on the screen, and then quickly he typed a message. How can other people love when I'm using the world's supply on you? He pressed send quickly before he could second guess and set his phone aside. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw a flurry of emoticons explode across the screen , an eye-searing expression of delight and affection. Stretch was all right, Jeff would be there soon. He wasn’t alone and he was safe in their home, and when Edge finally returned, he would be able to kiss him, hold him, with nothing between them. He could. The ring on his third finger was a comforting weight as Edge got to work.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underswap papyrus #underfell papyrus #by any other name

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purkinje-effect · 3 years ago

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The Anatomy of Melancholy, 72: Parking Spot

Table of Contents. Third Instar, Chapter 3. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Chems as medication, misgendering.

Everything has its place, even in a shell game.

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'Choly wrapped Sticks’s wounded arm in a clean dish rag, then administered a Med-X to his deltoid.

“I’m grateful it doesn’t look like I have to test my memory with applying stitches. Angel, you said we’ve got two Addictol left? We both could use it.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask, Sir!”

The Mister Handy produced the two red ampules from its back storage and held one out for each of them. ‘Choly took it promptly and exhaled completely, depressed the actuator to empty the whole thing into his lungs, and held it for sixty seconds, counting with his Pip-Boy’s clock. Sticks glanced at it, but didn’t take it.

“I thought X-Cell chems didn’t have curable withdrawals.” The uncertainty rumbled in his quiet, gravelly voice.

The timer wasn’t up just yet. ‘Choly swatted at him dizzily. With a hard exhale, and several modulating breaths, he sighed.

“This is for your Jet Fuel bender. You really shouldn’t have been operating heavy machinery. It’s a wonder you didn’t crash the car on the way here.” ‘Choly smiled when Sticks took his ampule from Angel. He instructed him how to use it. “I took one myself for a few reasons. One, I hadn’t bothered after the chem cocktail I relied on to push through the Battle for Lowell. And two, I was... kind of hoping whatever Olivia gave me that night would get scrubbed out in the process.”

He watched his health diagnostics screen in anticipation of its next refresh. The chemical dependencies all but evaporated. He patted at his Pip-Boy. Of course all the collagen issues would remain. He didn’t expect any easy fixes for the symptoms he presumed tied into the cryogenic damage done by Vault-Tec, nor did he expect it to be so simple to shoulder off the X²-Cell side effects that exacerbated them. But at least, he could set down his withdrawals in favor a little greater faculties. Maybe he could make a better first impression with the mall denizens this way.

He handed the ampules to Angel to store for later reuse.

“One other thing, Angel. Could each of us have a Mentat?”

“One for the doc, one for the patient,” Sticks jabbed, a little too sharply, as he chewed at the lozenge Angel had given him. “You’re sure not shy to spread around the chems the first chance you get.”

“Consider the attention an apology for getting you bitten up in the first place. I’m just following the suggestions your Pip-Boy has made. Its diagnostics are incredibly intuitive. I’m rapt to know what else it can do.”

“Starting to understand that this thing isn’t just some dinky Sugar Bomb toy, huh?”

‘Choly stood from where he’d sat in the floorboard, and rounded to the front of the car to survey the trunk. His Mentat dissolved slowly under his tongue.

“Don’t try to justify what you did in Lowell.”

“Don’t try to justify what you did in Lowell, either. You getting high and mighty with me just because you have a two hundred year old medical degree?”

‘Choly’s ears burned. Low hanging fruit.

Sticks got out of the car to toss his bloodied clothes into the trunk. He rummaged through his clothes, and changed into his Glenn Johnny’s uniform. He fished out the ushanka and put it on, too.

“If you’re not going to wear it, I am,” Sticks harrumphed, finishing tying off his apron.

“...Are you sure everything’s going to be all right in the car?”

“No one knows how to hot wire a car. They don’t even use light switches here. And I doubt anyone’s gonna have the nerve to touch a functioning vehicle.” He wrapped a firm, reassuring arm around ‘Choly’s shoulder, and ‘Choly let him. “I meant it when I said you need to leave everything you can in the car. Check-in sees so many people that, even if they didn’t keep what they want to, it totally makes sense for things to just end up lost. You don’t want to lose your fancy pistol, do you?”

“Just... how thoroughly do they shake you out.” He put a hand on the handle of Tryasovitsy.

“You’re not the least bit sneaky enough to get holdouts past check-in, Mindy. You’re doing well to keep your walking cane with you.”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“I won’t allow it. Honestly, you call Angel your wheelchair, and they’d rip that from you in a heartbeat. But don’t worry about that much. Now, what I’m more worried about is how suspicious it’s going to look for us to show up unarmed. You’ve got those two other pistols. We’re toting those in. Consider them an offering. Maybe it’ll distract them enough if they find something easy to grab from you, and leave it at that.”

“The .38 and the 10mm?”

“How many other guns could I be talking about?”

‘Choly helped Sticks unload Angel’s storage into the trunk, but he kept his Merrick Index and the MKExceed Papers inside of it, as well as a few dishes and utensils, hairbrush, and his prewar bonds. Angel had insisted upon retaining every chem in ‘Choly’s possession, as per the terms of their agreement. While Sticks organized his own possessions, ‘Choly anxiously slipped his syringer revolver from its holster, unthreaded the suppressor, and tucked the two parts of the gun in Angel’s false bottom storage compartment. Then, he crawled onto the center console to toss the belt holster in the footlocker, along with Sticks’s hunting rifle, his bekesha-tulup, and all of Angel’s tendril attachments.

“I know I don’t have all that much to trade with,” ‘Choly admitted by sleight of words, slumping into the passenger seat, “but is there a slim chance these people actually value paper money? All I have left is three grand in bonds. ...Fuck me, I wish I had known better than to deal exclusively in cash with the raiders.”

Sticks laughed sharply at the reminder of ‘Choly’s misstep.

“Money changing hands needs to stay my turf. But, the short answer is,” he shut the trunk, and grinned at him through the windshield, with a nod, “yes.”

They got back on the road again, returning to the North end of the Ant Lane mall. ‘Choly eyed their surroundings as they pulled slowly into the parking garage, filled with hundreds of vehicles in varying stages of decay. Thousands of yards of textiles formed tents, strung from the concrete structure and draped between cars, trucks, and station wagons. Paranoid pedestrians gave the car a wide berth as Sticks looped carefully through the garage in search of an empty parking spot.

“Covered Parking is a residential block now,” Sticks narrated coolly. He waved at a couple of kids staring at them, and they scattered. “There’s three neighborhoods to this place: the Laners inside, the Satellites outside, and then these folks here. With the engine removed, cars make decent enough housing. Rental spaces are limited, so they pile in here while the weather permits. Blue’s just more mobile than home, is all. There’s a couple people who fancy themselves landlords and landladies, but they can’t afford to be bullies about it. It’s more that they... request donations to keep things running smoothly out here. Hey, slip me a hundred, would you?”

Sticks stopped the vehicle as a heavyset man in layered draped shawls approached the driver’s side to rest his hands atop the open window. ‘Choly presumed him an aforementioned lessor.

“I’ve heard stories about a shambler with a car,” he started, adjusting his black-rim glasses. “This place is for inert vehicles.”

“The name’s Sticks,” Sticks grimaced. “Little Boy Blue’s safe. I just got ‘im tuned up this week. Speaking of safe, I just need a good place to tuck him for a few days. Want to protect his fresh paint job.”

The man laid his hands ever so gently on Sticks’s Pip-Boy with a curious concern for the trio’s quantity of technology. He let go when Sticks pulled his arm into his lap from the door armrest, and eyed ‘Choly and his Pip-Boy with a flighty politic. Then he saw Angel behind them and couldn’t not gulp down a yelp.

“I will not store General Atomics things here!”

“--It’s coming with us,” ‘Choly blurted out with a frown. “We just need a parking spot for the car.”

The man’s face knotted all up, not comforted by the chemist’s reassurance.

“Convince me the engine’s not volatile. I’ve got a community to keep secure here.”

Sticks clapped his hands together and smiled.

“It’s certified by someone who restores power armor.”

The ghoul tucked ‘Choly’s $100 bill up the man’s sleeve. The man’s eyes widened and he patted at it in surprise, then tucked it all the way inside his cuff.

“--You can park it here--until the ants say otherwise. It goes in the lot then! I won’t have an inversion event just because you agreed to help foot our grocery bill this week.”

They shook on it.

“That’s the last thing either of us wants,” he appeased. “Really, I’ll take whatever number you can give us.”

“I want you as far out from the rest as possible. How about... A99. By the ramp.” He pointed off to the northeast corner, furthest from the mall itself, before turning back to Sticks and ‘Choly. “Ask around for Maury, if you need me for anything. I’ll let the other lessors know your Little Boy Blue is occupied.”

“You’re a delight, Maury.”

“I’m just doing my job.”

They pulled around to the last row. As Maury indicated, fewer tenants occupied this corner of the concrete canopy.

“Power armor?” ‘Choly echoed. “Sturges works on power armor?”

“Works on just about anything with moving parts. He told me he worked on ‘em all the time in Quincy. There’s a garage down there, for people who own ‘em. Kind of like a car club, but for power armor. He likes working on the things. Lots of technical parts. But he doesn’t trust himself to step inside.”

It sounded enough aligned with what Sturges had told him, that he accepted it.

“What did Maury mean by inversion event?”

“Psh, that’s just a fancy way of saying ‘car goes boom.’” Sticks parked and turned off the engine. “Happens a little more... spontaneously up here in Ant than the Commonwealth, I’ll admit.”

“Aren’t you worried Blue will explode?” He frowned. “After all the work you put into restoring it this week?”

“I don’t worry my pretty rotten head about what might happen. And you’d be wise not to, either. You’ve got all your priceless formulas and crapola crammed in Angel’s back.” He patted ‘Choly on the knee and handed him the 10mm pistol from the center console, then tucked the .38 in his apron. “Who knows? You might like it here. You worry about as much as any Laner I’ve met.”

‘Choly retrieved his cane from beside the seat, then checked the safety on the gun before pocketing it. Sticks locked up, and jingled his keys in his pocket cheerily as they walked back through the garage. Along the way, Sticks greeted any people who were staring. Angel joined in, anxious left unarmed among an entire population of technophobes. ‘Choly could appreciate how many had set their cars’ seats outside the vehicles as patio furniture, to make more room inside for multiple people to sleep. He disliked children, but their presence reassured him.

The northernmost anchor store used to be a DeMarco-Boyle. Its Streamline Moderne metal pocket doors would once have slid open for them, but now required manually pulling them open and shut with a pulley system operated by security. Rather than open the door, the four armed guards drew on Angel.

“What’s the big idea?” one of the men demanded, wagging his assault rifle at the Mister Handy. “’At thing’s got combat parts.”

“Sir, I assure you, it would take just one of you to be more equipped than the whole lot of us.” Angel cycled through its attachments in demonstration that all its attachment positions were empty except its tendrils. “I accompany my owner to serve as his mobility aid.”

“Hope you handle stairs all right, lady. We don’t do upkeep on none ‘a them ‘ator things.“

‘Choly’s upper lip twitched, but he kept himself from clacking his cane at the man. Once Angel’s show of hands satisfied the guards, they stood down and shouldered their rifles. Two flanked the door again, to draw it open, while the other two approached to escort the men inside the vestibule to commence their search. Between the outer and inner doors, a mix of desks and folding tables had been set up for sorting and intake.

“He’ll manage,” Sticks remarked. “If Angel isn’t carrying him, I can.”

“Aight, folks. It’s that time.” One of the doorkeepers cleared her throat and rattled off their regulations with the rhythmic monotony inherent in reciting from memory. “The Aldermen of Ant Lane have declared the mall itself a weaponless space. Stepping foot within the mall perimeter is declaration of an individual’s agreement to adhere to this regulation, by whatever force necessary. All firearms, knives, swords, bludgeons, power fists, power armor, explosives, and ballistics and energy-based weapons must be forfeit upon entry. If requested, an individual may log their ownership of any forfeit weaponry, and later have it returned upon leaving. Ant Lane’s armory holds no responsibility for any weapons misplaced while in holding.”

As per their protocol, the guards paired off same-sex to the individual they searched. A female guard had already paired off to pat ‘Choly down. The guards didn’t notice their mistake. He clenched his teeth when she pocketed his 10mm with routine jadedness, and glanced in displeasure to Sticks. The ghoul shrugged at him with a helpless hint of a smile.

“I’ll have you know I came all the way from Concord in search of medical provisions.“

The guard who’d searched him stood, satisfied.

“One, woah. There’s still people all the way North of Manchester? Two, you came to the Lane lookin’ for a doctor? You are S.o.L. girl. Unless you intend to help us find one. Best we got’s Liam. Lord knows he’s stretched thinner than a Caradbou’s britches.”

“What about those things on your arms?” The third guard was the youngest, and most unnerved by the whole thing.

“They’re just portable terminals,” ‘Choly suggested. “Pip-Boys. They’re not robots.”

“You’re not a robot, are ya?” the third continued.

“Elephant in the room,” the first guard snipped, irritated with his trainee. “Somebody search that robot. Make sure it ain’t got any hidden compartments or anything.”

“Oh, you’re completely right,” ‘Choly offered shakily, making himself overly helpful. “Forgive me. It slipped my mind to mention it. It does have a compartment. L-- let me show you.”

Angel lowered its flame so its compartment could be reached. Once ‘Choly had the cover flipped open, the female guard pushed him aside to poke around.

“Lots of papers. Small chem stash. Some herbs... What’s in the bottles?”

“Silt flour smoothies,” Sticks endeared.

“Almost wanna declare those hazardous. Watch where you drink ‘em.” She pushed things around inside for a bit, then stepped back and snorted. “It’s clean.”

‘Choly overcompensated to avoid the relief unstringing his joints on the spot, and instead pulled some muscles in his side.

“So are we good, then?” Sticks asked, hands back in his pockets to rock on his heels. “We’d really like to head down to your famous food court already.”

“Be aware that we’re reporting your presence to the Aldermen,” the fourth guard allowed. “You’re cleared for entry for the moment, but should they find exception with admitting your robot, you will be evacuated from the premises.”

The trio thanked the guards quietly, and moved inside.

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