#valentino a worse man than me in some ways but also a better man than me in that i would've just started laughing

[batsplat]

hiii your weekly sete ask:

wow his 2005 season was really Cursed affggghjk. like what do you mean he’s 7th with 7 retirements (more than that years top 4 combined) but also is the only guy aside from valentino in top 7 to not finish lower than 5th place…..

valentino was the curse really worth it being runner up to capirossi and melandri TWICE and in a row (joking)

haha... yeah... 'retirement' in motegi... definitely wasn't so eager to seal the title at honda's home race that he made an ill-advised overtake attempt on melandri and cleared them both out... two completely unrelated dnf's... haha...

anyway!! yeah!! valentino would make that trade with you all things considered - always got on well with capirossi, with melandri admittedly you have the whole drama of melandri thinking valentino switched up towards him... but tbf you do have to say valentino was impressively dogged at keeping melandri's first win at bay for as long as possible. the six races valentino doesn't win that year are estoril (very wet, kinda just settled for second), laguna (unfamiliar with the track and would never be one he really liked, finished behind the two americans who knew the track well), motegi (crazy how we'll just never know how that dnf happened... oh well let's move on), sepang (a bridgestone-dominated weekend, sealed the title there though), turkey (hampered by a poor start) and valencia (my god is he mid there, also he tried to smash himself up before the race which I swear he does like. repeatedly at that specific circuit. guess he knows he has the off season to recover)

the way the curse shakes out is that for the rest of sete and valentino's careers, whenever they both finish a race valentino is ahead. not a single exception! not one! but the thing is, right, sete's actual finishing position of seventh in the championship in 2005 is extra cruel because it... just is not representative of how competitive he was that season? this is where it becomes useful I have my 'curse tally' notes... 2004 we've already covered, 2006 is more depressing than fun (how is your luck so bad your ambulance crashes into a bus fifty metres before the hospital entrance), but 2005? oh yeah that sete season is fucked. do you know who won the best qualifier award that year?

narrator: he did not win his home race on sunday

you can also read the qualifying prowess from the average grid positions, and it's not even particularly close. sete averages 2.82 for the season, ahead of valentino at 4.12 and hayden at 4.29. he bags five pole positions, exactly as many as valentino. his average finishing position when he actually makes the chequered flag is 3.6, the third best that year behind vale's 1.44 and melandri's 3.5. unsurprisingly, 2005 is the only season this century where the strongest qualifier does not win a single race. that just isn't a thing that happens!! it shouldn't happen!! this is not a man who was suddenly slow. he also hadn't been particularly crash-prone in his previous honda seasons... one dnf in 2003, two in 2004... and seven in 2005. a nightmare

which raises the question... okay, not winning races is one thing, but what the fuck happened to sete? if you're not just slow all of a sudden, how are you suddenly dipping from p2 to p7 in the championship standings? so. *cracks knuckles* *gets out notes* let's go one by one and tally up exactly how sete's season went wrong (parentheses used to indicate grid positions, e.g. 'g2', and finishing positions, e.g. 'p2')

jerez (g2/p2): after a feisty start, sete leads the entire race up until three laps to the end - when valentino executes his overtake and looks all set for the win. but valentino makes a mistake on the final lap that lets sete back past, and he's frantic in his attempts to correct the error... it looks like sete might have this one won, until valentino steals it from him at the last corner, barging him aside with one foot off its peg. (more on the final lap here.) valentino's victory, immediately controversial, is followed by various post-race theatrics as the spanish crowd voice their displeasure and valentino rubs it in their faces. on the way to the podium, valentino breaks the fourth wall to mock sete for clutching at his shoulder - which he is then forced to walk back in estoril as it turns out sete had actually been injured (clips here). more on this, from broadbent's 'ring of fire':

(details of the gresini/zerbi dispute included below the cut)

estoril (g2/dnf): an increasingly wet race - conditions in which sete has always been excellent in (first 500cc race was won in the wet too). sete's shoulder is still injured from the jerez collision and he'd crashed that weekend already, but he leads comfortably at the start... it's always tricky to be in the front in those conditions and he ends up crashing out of the lead in lap 16 out of 24. would valentino have been so comfortable settling for the podium if sete had still been in the race?

shanghai (g1/p4): another wet race, this time at a new circuit. perhaps sete's confidence was dented by estoril, or perhaps he just wasn't quick enough in the conditions. he doesn't get the ideal start from pole, though he briefly runs ahead of valentino - before vale overtakes him and disappears into the distance. for most of the race, sete runs second, until eventually wildcard jacque overtakes him. with a few laps to go, sete's suddenly losing speed... it looks like he's dealing with some kind of mechanical issue and he's shaking his head down the straight. on the very last lap, his teammate melandri overtakes him for the final podium position. after the race, sete said he had already felt on the warm-up lap that something was wrong with his tyre, and that it was all he could do to minimise the damage and coax the vibrating tyre to the end

le mans (g4/p2): sete had won the two previous races at this track, beating valentino on the final lap in 2003 and extending his championship lead in 2004. this year, both sete and valentino get quite a poor start, and exit the first few corners seventh and sixth respectively. valentino starts his charge to the front before sete does - and sete's progress stalls for a bit when he makes an absolute hash of one of the chicanes. eventually, valentino is on the rear tyre of his teammate edwards, but takes his sweet time overtaking him.... sete hunts them both down, firing in lap records as he muscles his way to third, and valentino is quickly informed of just who is catching him. valentino overtakes edwards, but edwards quickly gets him back - which opens the door for sete, who slips past for second. the three once again converge and valentino eventually manages to get sete back. edwards runs it a little wide and valentino squeezes past, with sete able to take advantage of the open door to get through too. they quickly gap edwards and as sete stalks valentino, the commentators hype up the prospect of revenge, of 'payback time'... valentino takes a new circuit record on the final lap to hold sete off. he extends his hand for sete long enough that sete eventually acquiesces - in doing so affording valentino a courtesy his rival had not extended to him at sepang the year before

mugello (g2/dnf): this time last year, the first public cracks of the valentino/sete relationship were just starting to show. but a fight for victory between the two of them was not to be this time round. sete keeps p2 off the line; after some opening lap scrapping that includes a valentino overtake, sete is still in p2. then his teammate melandri rudely forces him wide while overtaking, so that sete briefly drops back to fourth - before muscling his way past capirossi and into third. he tussles a bit with biaggi... but ends up crashing on lap five. it already feels like curtains on any championship aspirations

catalunya (g1/p2): before the weekend, valentino says he believes melandri and biaggi, not sete, will be his main championship rivals. sete starts on pole, with valentino likewise on the front row. valentino gets a somewhat poor start... by the end of the first lap he's back in the mix at the front. the first few laps are frantic, with melandri leading most of them and making his teammate's life, uh, unpleasant - but eventually both valentino and sete make their way back and break away from the field. soon after, sete gets past valentino and leads the race. for a while, it looks like he's breaking away from valentino just a little... eventually, it becomes obvious valentino has just been biding his time. with three laps to go, vale eases past down the main straight into the braking zone of turn one, and immediately proceeds to destroy sete's circuit record on dying tyres. he wins the race fairly comfortably from there

assen (g2/p5): juan martinez, sete's crew chief, is taken ill on thursday with a migraine. he recovers to come back to the box on saturday, but unsurprisingly the team is on the back foot as a result. (remember, martinez used to work for valentino, and he is someone valentino explicitly blamed for what happened at qatar 2004.) sete starts reasonably well from the front row, second early on behind his teammate melandri before eventually falling behind hayden. meanwhile, valentino has gotten a typically atrocious start and gave himself a bit of work to do. sete eventually makes his way back past hayden - but unfortunately lets valentino through too. at the end of the seventh lap, valentino gets past sete at his beloved final chicane. after that, valentino goes on to win the race while sete languishes in fifth

laguna seca (g13/p5): sete executes a strong comeback ride, besides losing a duel to biaggi which I suppose is a new low. but the main thing I have to bring in at this juncture is one of my favourite sete's moments. this is from broadbent's 'ring of fire' again, in the context of the re-introduction of laguna to the calendar and the discussions around that. just remember that valentino has been tormenting sete for like, over half a year, and sete has not lashed out at valentino once publicly. but here... he finally snaps - and takes it out on the real enemy: marco melandri

quick friendly reminder that melandri was sete's teammate that year

donington (g2/dnf): the race is held in truly appalling conditions. sete - who, remember, was a known wet weather specialist - takes the lead early on. he crashes on the third lap, one of ten riders not to finish the race. after wobbling about in the front-running pack for most of the race, valentino eventually takes the lead before pulling comfortably clear. he mimes playing the violin while crossing the line; this was interpreted by some as mockery of his less fortunate rivals, which valentino refuted

before the race, valentino took another opportunity to twist in the knife:

"when I see gibernau I always want to arrive in front of him" uh huh

sachsenring (g2/p2): valentino had quite a few problems with his bike that weekend, with a tricky build-up to the race. initially, hayden gets the holeshot, as valentino starts piling up the pressure and sete gets stuck in traffic. but the race is red flagged - and while hayden again gets the holeshot at the restart, valentino quickly disposes of him and sete soon does likewise. sete swiftly overtakes valentino ("'take that', said sete gibernau, 'I mean business'" says one of the commentators) and leads from there, with valentino in hot pursuit. for a few laps, valentino ends up behind hayden - and once he gets past him again, he's seven tenths down on sete with six laps to go. valentino closes in and on the very last lap, sete goes wide into the first corner, letting valentino through

always thinking of the suggestion valentino was intending to overtake sete at exactly the same place he had been overtaken in 2003 (from here):

brno (g1/dnf): despite the summer break in between (where sete reportedly did a lot of training), this might as well have been a direct continuation of the previous race. sete leads out front as valentino determinedly muscles his way into second place so as to not let sete escape. on the very first lap, valentino overtakes sete - in a section of the track where sete was planning to overtake capirossi if capirossi got the holeshot (more on how forthcoming sete was being to the commentariat here and here, icl when I replied to those asks I didn't remember quite how bad it was). on the third lap, the two exchange a few overtakes, and then it's sete in front. valentino makes a mistake to give sete a bit of breathing room and almost let the pack swallow him up, but he escapes again to get on sete's tail. around halfway through, valentino takes the lead - and then, with just over four laps ago, valentino deliberately slows down and practically invites sete to go past, before slotting back in behind him. valentino takes the lead at the final chicane of the penultimate lap, setting the stage for a final lap showdown, except sete is beginning to lose touch... and then he slows down. sete has run out of fuel

japan (g7/dnf): all eyes on valentino - who starts from eleventh for his first matchpoint race - as he starts making his way through the pack. on the first lap, valentino's already made his way past sete for sixth. tragically, all footage of the race after this point was erased so we will simply never know what valentino got up to after this point in time, but sete reportedly crashed on lap eleven. "gibernau's wretched season continues, when will it end for sete gibernau... it's almost a year now since valentino rossi put that witch's curse on him at qatar and said he would never win another race, you've got to wonder..."

sepang (g2/dnf): as the riders storm down to turn one, sete and hayden make contact and barely keep their bikes upright - sete is knocked down to sixth. valentino ends up right behind him on the first lap once again, but gets stuck behind him for a little longer as sete works his way past hayden... before sete and nakano go down when the former attempts to overtake the latter on lap two. "sete gibernau's appalling season continues...." - sete begins to walk off before sinking to his knees in despair

qatar (g2/p5): back to the place where it all started. sete deploys some feisty riding to keep that second place off the line against both valentino and hayden. he takes the lead from capirossi on the third lap and valentino takes advantage to immediately force his way into second - ready to exert pressure on his enemy. but sete builds up a healthy advantage as his teammate melandri increasingly puts pressure on valentino. melandri and valentino exchange overtakes as sete's advantage ebbs and flows, eight tenths at one point while his two rivals tussle. could this really be the "resurgence of sete gibernau"? with six laps to go, valentino shows his front wheel to sete, but it gives melandri the opportunity to get past. as valentino attempts to return the favour, melandri cuts off his nose and causes valentino to almost run into the back of him - payback for motegi, which makes valentino run wide and almost fall back into the clutches of hayden. it looks like it will be a fight between the two gresini riders for the win as valentino is 1.2s back, but he quickly claws his way back into contention and is helped by the gresini duo scrapping. and when melandri has another go at sete, sete runs on into the gravel... "the man who has cracked once again is sete gibernau" "and I'm sure both marco melandri and rossi are smiling under their visors" from the commentary team - valentino snatches the win once again, with sete finishing a disconsolate fifth

phillip island (g3/p5): so much for another front row start, with sete getting battered around to fifth through the first few corners and quickly being pushed down to sixth by his teammate. from there, it's an unspectacular ride to fifth, as valentino claims another victory

turkey (g1/p4): another start from pole, but melandri gets the jump on him from the start. sete puts pressure on melandri and eventually gets back past to take the lead...... and then goes wide and runs it into the gravel. he recovers from sixth to a painful fourth. "you can just imagine valentino rossi grinning, can't you, behind his visor, when he saw that happen"

valencia (g1/dnf): once again, sete starts from pole.... surely, surely he has to win one of these? valentino starts from fifteenth on the grid, which you'd have to say is as good a chance as you're going to get to catch a break from the man. sete is shuffled down to third on the opening lap but is right on the tail of melandri and hayden, setting the field's fastest lap on lap two. on lap four, sete slows down... "and the spaniard's wretched season could end in the only possible way, another disappointment at his home round and yet more misery for movistar" - an engine failure. his teammate escapes out front while sete works through his grief on the side of the track

so, having assessed the evidence in an appropriately scientific manner... well, yes. sete was kinda fucked. you have plenty of bad luck, you have races where he's simply not fast enough, you have races where valentino forces the issue and beats him in a straight fight, and then you have quite a few races where sete makes a clear 'unforced' error. it's not even necessarily the crashes that are most painful - with sachsenring, qatar and turkey standing out as real low points, times when he feasibly could have had valentino (as well as his teammate, who he also dislikes) beat. his wet weather dnf's will also have been a bitter pill to swallow, as well as valentino's lovely habit of snatching circuit records as he pulls clear from sete right at the end of races. and all the while, valentino is happy to taunt him with his failures, reminding sete again and again of how he is no longer the challenger he once was. all the while, the narrative of the curse gathered momentum, ever more likely to make its way back to sete. with every failure, the pressure grew. there's got to be at least ten races where sete on pace could have been in victory contention, five races where he bags pole, fourteen front row starts... not a single actual win. and that's how you put together a curse, kids

here's the gresini/zerbi dispute:

Movistar Honda team manager Fausto Gresini sent an open letter to the media on Thursday night in response to a private letter sent by FIM President Francesco Zerbi to MotoGP riders Valentino Rossi and Sete Gibernau following last weekend's clash during the Jerez race. Mr Zerbi´s letter had invited the riders to reflect upon the incident, and to remain as positive examples for all MotoGP fans - asking them to fight fairly and without will of revenge. The FIM President also wrote that he didn't see any infringement to the rules, but stressed that this kind of situation shouldn't be repeated. The comments made by Gresini were: "I fully agree with President Zerbi about the fact that sportsmanship is the most important thing. There's no room for bitter feelings between two great riders, but in the meantime, I'm still perplex." "In this letter, Sete and Valentino are treated equally as if Sete had some responsibility in the facts, and I can't agree with that. I believe there is a contradiction when the FIM president writes 'there isn't anything to reproach you for from a legal point of view', and then warns that what happened in Jerez must not occur again." "It means that we're still far from a situation where all have equal rights, in a sport as dangerous as ours," concluded the Italian manager. [here is the presidents response]: Dear Mr Gresini, I should not respond personally to your open letter given to the press, but through the intermediary of my lawyers; however, considering that I subscribe to the rules of courtesy and that I believe private life is a right that no-one can deny, I am not going to enter into a controversy - an easy one given the ridiculous arguments in your letter. The only thing that I want to stress and which, as a man, mortifies me is that I am mistaken in my judgement of men. And that I say on an individual level far more than on an institutional level. With much bitterness, Francesco Zerbi FIM President NB: I am sending this letter to the press because your employee, by violating all principles of education, more so than of law, did not hesitate to betray the confidence that had been granted to him.

like "with much bitterness" why is everyone in this sport so dramatic. what was everyone on this year

[hells-wasabii]

Haii can i get general fluff of Valentino being soft with his wife s/o.

A/N: absolutely! i'm a sucker for domestic stuff! I kinda defaulted to a headcanon format, but i think you'll still enjoy it anon! if you'd like a drabble tho, don't hesitate to ask!

Part 1 | Part 2

Character: Valentino

Type: Headcanons (Val x wife! s/o, Fluff)

Valentino is a demon who's in tune with his emotions, too much so depending on who you ask. This of course translates into his marriage with you. He's definitely not afraid to let you know how deeply his affection for you runs.

You'd best believe this man has nicknames for you: some in English, some in Spanish, all with love. I can also guarantee you he's called you wifey, too. He most definitely considers himself to be the king of the porn industry, which makes you his queen. And you'd best believe he lets you know it too.

Being in a position of power like his, it requires him to be hardened with all those he associates with, employees and fellow overlords alike. So many souls looking to take advantage of any sign of weakness. The fact that he can go home to you and the afterlife that you've built together, to be able to just decompress and be soft with you means more to him than he'll likely admit. This in turn means that he'll also be pouty and put on a woe-is-me act, especially if you're busy when he gets home.

On especially bad days when he's on a rampage/tirade after letting his emotions get the better of him, don't be surprised to get a call from Vox or Velvette, or both. It's quite amazing how easily you're able to calm him down, so much so that I'd dare to say it actually frightens the other Vee's to a degree.

When it comes to cuddling he prefers to be big spoon, mostly due to his wings. You even touching his wings is something that would take years to build up to. Moths can't have their wings tampered with otherwise they might not be able to use them anymore. This takes a LOT of trust from Val. On extra special occasions when you cuddle he loves to wrap his arms around you and just hold you close, cocooning the both of you in his wings.

On the topic of physical affection, when he's with you there's a solid 83% chance that he's touching you in some form or fashion. A hand grazing you as he reaches past you, honestly even just hovering. He's very touchy-feely. It only got worse after you two tied the knot.

He also flaunts the fact that you're married. Not a whole lot of Sinner Demons can say that, can they? He doesn't think so at least, but then again he doesn't really care enough to check. He's so proud to have you and why wouldn't he be? He'll go out of his way to introduce you/talk about you to others. "Oh, by the way. have you met my WIFE? Fabulous, isn't she?" Vox and Velvette who take the brunt of the flauntings are just looking at him like: yes Val, this is the second time we've gone through this today.

[d3pressed-caffiene-addict]

Hazbin Hotel Ep 5&6 Oh My God (Major Spoilers)

I am having so many thoughts, this is just a brain dump

-LUCIFER. He’s so pathetic I love him

-Jeremy Jordan you fucking legend. I’m a big fan of a lot of his work and was excited to see him in this but I was slightly unsure if he was the right casting since I expected Lucifer to be more of a high and mighty/snobby figure, but with the way they characterised him HE IS PERFECT.

-“TAKE THAT DEPRESSION”

-The Lucifer vs Alastor rivalry is beautiful

-“Ha ha, fuck you.”

-Father figure Alastor

-HIS EARS GO BACK LIKE A CAT WHEN HES ANGRY I CANT

-MIMZY’S ARRIVAL. I know most of us know the lore about her and Alastor being developed as a couple before it was scrapped but I really like how they are in the show

-Even if it’s just crumbs I’m so excited to be getting snippets of Alastor’s lore. It’s wild to keep going back and forth between “aw he actually cares for and protects his friends” and “oh my god he’s a fucking psycho”

-Speaking of that the scene with Husk holy shit. Poor man looked terrified

-The confirmation that Alastor’s also stuck working for someone, it has to be Lilith surely. I know some people will call it predictable because a lot of theories are coming true but personally I think it’s from good worldbuilding/foreshadowing

-ALASTOR IN FULL DEMON FORM JUST ANNIHILATING EVERYONE and then he just goes “Ah that was fun, now back to it”

-I kinda like the parallel between Al and Mimzy & Angel and Cherri where they invite their friends to join them if they want to, even if neither of them take it up initially maybe we’ll see them join the hotel in the future?

-BABY CHARLIE

-I really expected Lucifer to be a dickhead and a shitty dad, but he seems to be an overall better guy than most people in hell

-CHERRI BOMB ARRIVAL! And she’s Aussie now fuck yeah represent

-I still love her and Angel’s friendship even if she is a terrible influence. Everyone’s got that friend who’s solution to a bad day is just self-destruction but they mean well at least

-DARREN CHRIS TOO, THE MUSICAL THEATRE/BROADWAY ACTOR CASTING IS STACKED

-Emily is so sweet I love her

-The Molly cameo is so sweet, I was waiting for her to appear somewhere but lowkey forgot she was in heaven. Honestly though how did she get there when the rest of her and Angel’s family got condemned for what they did together? Maybe she left the mob or something idk I just hope we get to meet her properly at some point

-Heaven’s real fucked up? Yeah not shocked

-VAGGIE?? FALLEN ANGEL REVEAL?? AND SHE WAS AN EXTERMINATOR???? I know most of us called it but holy shit I didn’t expect it to be confirmed this soon

-Adam is such a dick but he’s so much fun

-I love that Charlie was gonna start her court presentation with definitions like a high school essay

-“Consent is a good name for a sex club” the gentleman Husk truthers gonna have fun with this one

-Pentious hitting on Cherri is hilarious and totally not the same level of subtlety I flirt with when I’m drunk

-Hearing more and more about how Val treats Angel is so sad especially with how casually he talks about it since it’s just another day for him

-Him parenting drunk Nifty is beautiful

-“You wanna play with the kitty?”

-Valentino is my #1 enemy

-Seeing Angel stand up to him to protect his friends is making me feel feelings. Like he knows that he’s gonna be treated even worse for it but I think he’s reaching his tipping point and shits gonna go down soon

-Also I know there’s a popular theory that he’s gonna die soon and a lot of the theories are coming true so I am scared. I kind of don’t think this one’ll happen though since he’s the fan favourite and its just too soon to take that much of a risk. Plus Vivsie’s admitted he’s the best written character and it’d be such a waste of all that development

-More sweet moments between him and Husk, they’ve gotten me so invested in this ship so fast

-The fact that most of heaven didn’t know about the extermination?? Wild

-Idk how I feel about the timeskip between Ep 4&5, they’re only a month away from the extermination now. Yes it’s making the stakes feel higher but I do wish we’d been able to see more of that time for the relationship development, all the characters seem much closer than before and we’ve only seen bits of how they got there

-I really wish they’d greenlit more than 8 episodes to pace things a little better but I’m glad we have season 2 confirmed

-That last minute ‘reveal Vaggie’s past to Charlie, boot them out of heaven and then cut to credits before she can react’ is gonna torture me until next week

-I don’t disagree with past criticism that Vivzie’s female characters can feel a bit underwritten but I think it’s getting better

-“We’re coming to the hotel first” plus all the theories that someone’s gonna die are fucking stressing me out man

Anyway hope you enjoy the brain dump, this show has once again consumed my thoughts

[sufferingsinnur]

My thoughts on Helluva Boss: APOLOGY TOUR and FULL MOON

Trigger warning to Stolas defenders, I guess.

I don't like the way the episode decided to make Blitzo the villain back to back. Stolas was such a hypocrite acting like he's done nothing wrong. "have you ever even apologized?" what a bold fucking thing to say after you banished him from your home when he attempted to do just that.

People keep getting something wrong about Stolitz, and that thing is..

THEY'RE NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP.

And they never were. Blitzo does not have to spend every waking moment with this man if he doesn't want to. Sure, Blitzo does have feelings for him, but he also understands that they are strictly on BUSINESS because of a CONTRACT.

I don't see yall calling Angel Valentino's ex. Because they're not in a relationship. Same goes here.

Blitzo was hired as a BODYGUARD in LooLoo Land. Not a fucking escort. A BODYGUARD. Stolas made it very clear what his job would entail and what does he do? Flirt with him the ENTIRE TIME on a trip that was meant for HIM and his DAUGHTER.

I refuse to believe Blitzo has this many exes. How does he have this many when he couldn't even hold a relationship with Stolas or Verosika? Viv just wants to make him look worse than he is because there should be NO REASON why his exes can fill up a room.

He couldn't even bring himself to think Stolas or ANYONE could love him, yet he has this many exes? Viv, please. That's bullshit. They were flings or one night stands at best and you know it. Or idk, attended because Verosika is idk...A POPSTAR????

We don't know jack shit about these people. They could've been the toxic ones all along. And Verosika's just validating their pathetic asses. (Not all of them, but some select few, or most.)

Verosika's party is NOT helping anyone. She's acting like she's some unsung hero. "you almost make me feel bad for hating you" you should feel bad. You put this on yourself. It is NOT that hard to GET OVER IT. Blitzo is NOT that fucking hot. You're a grown ass woman, a millionaire probably at that. There should be NO REASON you can't afford therapy or find someone new.

She's not making it any better for the party goers. She's not letting them MOVE ON. She's bringing back these painful memories for the sake of 'helping them'.

I swear if she just got the fuck over it they would too. She's the one bringing in all this hurt EVERY YEAR.

Like, okay, it might work the first time. But EVERY YEAR?? Hell no. Now you're just being petty.

Can we talk about this "better than blitzo guy" who just swoops on in?? Like no. No no no. Stolas doesn't just get to have a happy ending. He has problems and we need to focus on those before we give him a new "impish little plaything" to toy with.

Neither of them are over Blitzo and they'll NEVER be over Blitzo, clearly. So this relationship is NOT going to work. Again, Stolas DEFINITELY has his issues and needs to fix the way he views people below him before he even DARES to try dating one again.

Blitzo put everything before Stolas, like his daughter and employees. As he should. Stolas puts Blitzo before everything, and THAT'S why his ass got his heartbroken.

Blitzo didn't even say NO. He just didn't understand. He knows this idiot has a hard time with these things, and yet held it against him anyway. I don't care what pills he was or wasn't on. There's no excuse for his actions when he KNOWS he's in the wrong.

Blitzo has already been called out for everything in the show itself, so I won't bother with him. They're both in the wrong. I need Stolas' to get what's coming to him.

[arachnoheaux]

xxx some misconceptions abt my angel routinely come up in plotting & interactions, so thought i'd talk abt him some to put it out there!:

angel loves his job. being a sex worker brings out the best in him & it's not a shameful occupation he was forced into, needs to be saved from, or is a direct cause to any of his grief. yes, he is overworked & his talents are unjustly exploited but in no way that's worse than any other occupation due to its sexual nature. the angle of the ' poor destitute prostitute ' peeves me kinda massively actually & i really don't vibe with ooc whorephobia.

angel is VIOLENT & RECKLESS. blood & gore doesn't make him squeamish. weapons don't make him squeamish. he's not offput by slaughter & often engages in it himself. he has a severe sadomasichistic streak, a high pain tolerance, & the ability to shed & regrow limbs due to his insect - like physicality. it also takes a LOT to actually make him afraid of physical violence, bc in his mind nth holds a candle to things he's already experienced. on that note!

angel is PROTECTIVE of his relationship with valentino. not because it's a good thing, by any means. but because ( depending on the valentino muse in question ) valentino is and remains to be an important figure in his life for better or worse. whether they were past lovers or strictly have a working relationship, angel's relationship with valentino is closely tied to his own identity & success. he won't hate on him or tolerate such things easily. ( also this popular notion of treating valentino like a hate sink isn't super fun for me. for angel, it's Personal with a capital P )

angel doesn't quite look like he does in canon. i'm not much a stickler on this, but throughout the time i've mused and drawn him, my angel's come to look a little different. primarily, he sports a vibrant pink & curly hair, so please don't describe him as white or pale

he's a cis man with a passion for drag as a lifestyle. gender expression is an intimate part of his identity, but the same - sidedness of his own gender isn't something he's ever doubted. the validity of certain parts of himself that make him a man? absolutely. his sexual identity & gender expression are central themes to his character. but he's never had that deep, internalized wish to cross over. he celebrates his own personal gender expansion but dabbling in things considered ' feminine ' doesn't mean he's ever considered himself a woman ( & being called such isn't smth he likes )

[practically-an-x-man]

more thoughts about Wish:

Chris Pine has the best voice acting in this movie by far. Dude could be a legitimately scary villain if the animation wasn't so goofy

I'm telling you dude, the man is acting his ass off but the script and animation style are just ruining all the emotion he's giving

Alan Tudyk is also putting in the work but the script is not working in his favor

Evan Peters needs more lines. His character is legitimately interesting, a young guy who just gave up his wish and is now weirdly lethargic all the time, but they don't explore it enough

Speaking of the animation, it felt very inconsistent. With the King especially we'd get like... one cool moment (like him stopping the globes during his solo song) but then it's immediately cut by these goofy Nimona-as-Ballister type motions

The facial expressions are generally overblown, past the point of "animation stretching the rules" and into "this just looks goofy"

Like I said before, it feels like a patchwork of a dozen other, better Disney movies. My dad and I were watching this going "Tangled. Brave. Frozen. Peter Pan. Mulan."

The third act is like... Rise of the Guardians meets that one scene in Trolls where they sing True Colors

The music is just inconsistent. I think it mainly comes from the fact that they had a pop singer/songwriter do the music rather than a musical theatre composer, there aren't any consistent themes or leitmotifs and it leaves everything feeling very disjointed.

Some of the songs on their own are decently catchy but they just feel like they're trying way too hard

The dialogue is the same way. It serves a purpose but it doesn't quite feel natural or human. Some characters are worse than others and the VO work plays a role but the script itself is just awkward

I think they've just set up too many characters here. If they took two people out of Asha's friend group it would leave more room to develop the others. As it is, I don't remember their names and I have no idea what they want

Except for Asha since she's the main character and Simon because he's the only one who stands out from the rest (again, really interesting character! drastically underutilized!)

Feels like the talking animals are only a thing because it's a Disney movie. Valentino I understand, animal sidekicks are a classic, but the chickens and squirrels and mice are just too much

As a whole there's just... no substance in it. It feels like they've tried to make The Disney Movie and just started making it without even deciding on the themes or characters' journeys at all

It is a heaping pile of deus ex machinas. Every single problem in this movie is resolved in some cheeky little deus ex machina, solely for the sake of a stupid joke or a cheap reference to another Disney reference

If you're gonna copy Lin-Manuel Miranda's composition style anyway... just hire Lin-Manuel Miranda. At least he knows how rhyme schemes and leitmotifs work

This movie is so fucking trite it makes me legitimately angry

Good points I guess (because I refuse to dish on a movie without pointing out something decent about it):

Some of the songs are kinda catchy

There are a few powerful moments of animation, mostly with the King

There are little gold character moments here and there: the King's desperation for power, Simon's character as a whole, Asha's selflessness sparking the initial wish, etc.

Some of the voice acting is legitimately good!

The concept itself is interesting, a King who hoards wishes to make himself more powerful. It had the grounds to be a much better movie, it just didn't act on them very well

The diversity in this movie is genuinely good! We see various demographics of people - race, gender, physical build, disability, etc. - and there's not much "Disney same face syndrome" like we've gotten in other movies.

[hydrangeyes]

Rambles as I finally watch ep 5 and 6

I FINALLY FOUND A SITE

Ep 5:

I adore when Alastor is just being the opposite of what a lot of us expected, it's legit funny to me. (reminds me of the livestreams)

OOOOOOOOO so like was someone telling Luci Charlie didn't want to see him and vice versa for Charlie cause this reeks miscommunication?

Oh. Oh no husky.....

curious about who has Alastor on a leash but tbh it has to be someone high up. I don't think it would be Lilith but I can see how if Charlie branched off to be her own person and then started the hotel publicly how she would one the strongest but not directly connected sinner to look after Charlie. (OOOO especially if Lilith knew about vaggie and didn't trust her.)

I've seen folks talk about Eve, cause yeah where are they in all this but I can't see why Eve would want anything to do with the hotel unless to use it to drag Adam down or rise back up to heaven- oooooooooooo

Still unsure why use Alastor for that but eh....

Is eve even in hell??? I'm trying to think back in the bible if she does or not (Not that I'm sticking to the stores there for an exact reference but eh wouldn't hurt)

I don't think Charlie yet understands there's more to being a "good" person than opening up and positivity. Especially if it landed you in hell? tho yeah there are some who can be hopeful, i would think they would travel to stay in the hotel if that were the case (but then again they would have to see proof that it's possible)

Luci boi has a point but i also think his unease/fear of heaven dampening things, that and his general distaste for humans clearly

hell yeah go off little man

mm so like what is up with the divorce couple? like clearly Lilith got Charlie in the divorce but the line that even before that she didn't know him (she looks fairly in her todler years so like)

I very much like loved more than anything the song.

lmao vaggie is STRESSED.

on to Ep 6!

oh vaggie looks exhausted

I have a head canon of Vaggie and Charlie have the same dynamic as Cassandra and Rapunzel if they hooked up.... before the plot twist reveal anyway.

CHERRY BOMB I LOVE HER

God Sir pentious is so pathetic I love him

mmmm that was a design choice for saint peter but tbh Idc much

oooo the designs are prety cool!

MOLLY MOLLY MOLLY MOLLY MOLLY MOLLY MOLLY

Ugh fuckin' Adam

Wait- so legit NO one else knows about the extermination?????

mmm naming reasons a sideeeee Called it

God fuckin' Adam, get this man off my phone screen

I need charlie to spend a month on earth, cause hearing her marvel at rainbow sprinkles is both cute and sad

Oh Sera so like- you're kinda the worse huh?

"He was the first human-" Uh yeaaaaaa cause the rough draft is SO much better than the final product????

Pleaseeeeeee sir pentious be quietttttttttt

12 ROUNDS BACK TO BACK??????

someone save sir pentious

UGH valentino

let's GOOOOOOOO Angel Dust

what ARE the rules to get into heaven??

"A lot you don't know." THEN EXPLAIN IT, LEGIT EXPLAIN AND WE'D BE OUT OF YOUR HAIR IF IT WAS SO HOPELESS

legit if you know the answers please share with the class, then maybe you wouldn't have any issues?? what the fuck is actually going on here

mmm the bad place vibes

ooo vaggie angel reveaaalll

I hope Emily kicks ASS

I wonder if Adam legit has special first child privileges that is stopping him from falling cause HUUUUH there's no way he can get away with acting like that

Also given that only Sera and Adam (and his servants) Knew, word would HAVE to get out, as secrets doesn't seem to be a thing.

I wonder if Emily could take thiws up to someone higher like an archangel or something? I legit want Gabriel reveaal, 1: he seemed the most chill thinking back on old bible studies (Its been a while), and too cause supernatural brain rot made me love the dynamic of angel family drama tbh

[cliban]

AYE

Hi so to preface - I'm a sexual assault survivor who is DEEPLY uncomfortable with how Angel was treated in the show, by the show creators, and in general, and I've put a little bit into re-working him to still keep him relatively intact as the original Angel Dust, but portrayed in a way I feel would reflect a more interesting character. I also don't like Hazbin Hotel or Vivziepop very much lmao - I happen to be a trans guy.

Spoilers for the entirety of Hazbin Hotel, and CW for discussions of rape, other sexual assault, loss of autonomy, transphobia, and abuse.

Angel, in the rewrite I have going with Jay and co, is a sinner trapped in a bad contract with Valentino, that part stays enough the same. Valentino likes to use Angel's image as a porn star and as a trans man (another change - Angel literally just has breasts in the original but is still a cis man. Not to say that cis men cannot play with gender however they want, or that cis men cannot have breasts, but the sexualized nature of Angel's chest felt fetish-y to both transfems and transmascs) to portray the "perfect" sexual being.

Angel himself was initially all for it, as he quite enjoyed sex, sexuality, etc - He's a gay man that's invested in kink and bdsm, he thinks it's fun, etc. To note, he would be the only major character in this Hazbin rewrite who has an arc so sexually present - the others would be Asmodeus (obviously), Stolas (to outline his consent issues), and to a lesser extent Fizz (similar to Angel's autonomy issues, but less about the sex doll thing and more just.... Mammon's control), who are all more Helluva Boss centric. Anyway, to clear that up, most characters would not be as hypersexual as they are in the show lmao

Pre-show, Valentino has successfully marketed Angel as that perfect sexual being - a somewhat androgynous man with a vagina, feminine enough to have breasts but masculine enough to overall pass as male. Something for everyone. Angel is becoming slowly more dysphoric, but is banned from transitioning, and violence slowly creeps into his and Valentino's relationship as Angel starts to protest against some of the bullshit, but is, of course, shot down. By the time the show present rolls around, Angel is quite literally at his lowest point, and willing to take the free lodging just to get away at some points.

He initially presents as a very flirty, very porn-y person, extremely confident, thinks he's funny, more like he is in the pilot. Kind of a dick, feels very self-centered and acts like he's better than everyone because he's famous and a porn star. When Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Alastor, etc start very firmly rejecting any flirting he does, he starts spiraling a little in private, because "God, I pushed them too far, and that makes me just as bad if not worse than Valentino" and "If nobody actively wants me all the time, what worth do I even have?"

Those initial personality traits are mostly to get him by - People expect him to be a little flirty at least, so he dials it up. He can get away with seducing his way out of bad situations using his body and his reputation, and he does it so often that it becomes a very subconscious first nature thing to him.

Eventually, this leads up to my rewrite of episode 4, which is so long I put this under a cut lmao

Now I did like the aspect of Husk calling Angel out on his very fake demeanor, but there was absolutely 0 leadup to it, so I would push episode 4 over to a far later episode and have some scenes building up to it; We know Angel uses drugs to cope, and I assume that would extend to drinking, so Husk would just quietly start picking up on when those episodes happen (after porn shoots), the visible marks on Angel's body (physical violence from Valentino that he passes off as a bdsm shoot), all those little details that Husk would have picked up on from his gambling history. In any case, Husk wouldn't call out Angel in front of everyone because Angel would just. Back further away from any progress. Instead, I'd put Angel as trying to come onto Husk (possibly drug-induced state) and Husk calling him out there. Maybe Alastor or Charlie could overhear, to which Charlie decides to go Support Angel At Work (because she would be less. squeamish abt everything in the rewrite lol) and see how the business is run

In any case the scene of Charlie accidentally mucking things up - in this case she's just distracting actors because she's genuinely interested in people - and Valentino goes and whispers something inaudible to the audience to Angel, because Valentino has been friendly (not creepy like he is in the original ep) the entire time, and Angel's face just drops, but he goes over to tell her to sit down and the conversation escalates because Charlie's panicking that Angel's upset and Angel is panicking that Valentino's gonna take it out on him and now Charlie's upset, so it escalates to Charlie leaving.

After that night's shoot - which is Not depicted by the way, I want to make it very clear that that montage was literally a sexual assault/gangrape montage - Angel is visibly battered and if we have make the details clearer we can have an advertised scene or people talking about how good [that shoot] was, contrasted with Angel covering up and being uncomfortable. I'd rather have it implied not even because of discomfort but because leaving things up to implication can make the audience feel so much worse for him

then Angel enters the hotel and Charlie tries to talk to him about it in that bright cheery "how'd it go?!" and Angel is genuinely a dick to her. Like full on snapping at her. I think it's important to have Angel have some real assholish moments in the show, then have Valentino use that later in order to manipulate Angel further in another attempt to isolate him. Anyway Angel storms out and Charlie makes to go after him, but Husk goes wait. I'll do it. and because Charlie has had some scenes with Husk demonstrating his people-pacifying social skills to her before, she trusts him and passes along a message

Husk finds Angel at the same scene, schmoozing it up with some guys and letting them spike his drink. Husk drags Angel out again and asks why the fuck he'd let that happen. I'm not entirely sure how Angel would react, but his internal reasoning is that if he lets that happen, it's a more "real" form of assault on him. Valentino very clearly manipulates Angel's consent to the point where Angel is unsure if he's consented or not (he is not), and Angel deals with hypersexuality as a result of that. In this case, he'd go out and sleep with a bunch of ppl in very dubious consenting situations because 1. he is hypersexual and craves validation that is not from Valentino, which is easiest to access via sexual validation, 2. his self-worth is somewhat tied to how much he can serve others, or drugs, and both are of equal value to him, 3. if all else fails, he can point out that situation to himself as the most "valid" violation of his consent, and justify his godawful situation to himself, a "at least Valentino doesn't do this to me!"

Husk, being very good at people, goes yeah. okay. that's fucked. it's all fucked. you still need to apologize to charlie though. and Angel agrees because he was being a dick. But from there it opens up a dialogue of Charlie and Husk slowly getting through to Angel and eventually, when Charlie figures out the full extent of what Valentino is doing to Angel, she goes fucking feral. princess of hell an all that

If you have any questions feel free to ask, i guess! jfc that got long

Please tell me what is Angel Dust in your rewrite

@cliban wanna do the honors?

[batsplat]

sometimes casey throws a like on posts about valentino's wins on four wheels, got me wondering how he really feels about vale's retirement life. back in the twilight of vale's career, casey was kinda sad seeing vale content with just hitting top five. but end of last year, he said he's happy for vale's new life vibe. (https://www.tumblr.com/kwisatzworld/735598710184165376/casey-stoner-talks-about-valentino-rossi-in-an)

but man, they're like poles... casey's rebuilding his storm-hit home on the gold coast, swinging golf clubs. meanwhile, valentino's still going full throttle—aside from a vacay in ibiza, dude's been all over the map this year with car races, bike races, tests, and coaching at his academy.

I'm gonna be honest, I have zero awareness of what any of these men do on social media... don't really keep up with them post-retirement in general unless they're literally at the races, giving interviews about their careers and whatnot. so whenever someone on here mentions something like this it's very... I didn't know that but it sure is interesting!! very sweet of casey lol (also link to the gifs)

though, quick note, I wouldn't say valentino was content back in the day with just being in the top five (or lower) - it's just the idea of stopping for a long time felt worse than carrying on. from that same giornale interview, -

And what is it like to live with the idea of ​​leaving? "It's difficult to accept. I didn't give up until the end. But you understand that at forty you no longer have those homicidal instincts that you had when you were twenty-five. But it was hard. At a certain point in my career, about ten years ago, I asked myself: do I stop when I'm on the crest of a wave and retire as a world champion, or do I race until I can't stand it anymore?" Answer? "I race until I can't stand it anymore. And so I did."

it's something he had to decide for himself... of course, both marc and casey have said something along the lines of how they could never have done that themselves, how for them it's only worth it if they're winning. and, y'know, there is something about that for valentino... for all that obviously he is obsessed with winning and desperately wants to do so... he really doesn't just thrive in a fight - he needs it. and it's so interesting, in a way, when you think about just how early in his career he was flirting with the idea of walking away... and then think about how long he ended up sticking around. sure, he was always pretty clear that he would have just done something else racing-related like f1 rather than retire, but still! and in a way, it's probably the fact that he started losing that made him so determined to stick around... the malaise was at its strongest whenever he was winning, or rather, winning too easily... a motogp without valentino might have made it likelier that casey would stick around for longer, whereas a motogp with casey made it less likely that valentino would leave

but yes, casey did say motogp would be better with valentino close to the top:

casey's opinions on what counts as 'good racing' are a whole other thing I'm not going to get into right now, but, I don't know! it's fun! it's fun that casey looked at the 2013-18 period and then what came after that and went 'yeah it'd be better if valentino were involved in this'! "battling it out with these guys" - not even casey stoner is immune to the good old fashioned joys of watching valentino getting himself involved in a dogfight! very compelling of him. I don't think it's just lip service either, not least since it's not like casey is massively inclined to shoot random compliments in valentino's direction (yes, even during valentino's swansong casey did have some rather less friendly hot takes he needed to get off his chest). and... y'know, before the feud really got going casey did talk about how much he'd enjoyed watching valentino, went out with his mates to observe valentino in all his sessions and all that... given you're generally not watching valentino oohing and aahing about him hooking together a quali lap, he must have also enjoyed watching valentino race! happens to the best of us I fear

a persistent problem for a lot of valentino's rivals is how closely associated valentino has become with the very idea of motogp, which, y'know, is the thing they've dedicated their entire lives to. now, for casey this is particularly gnarly and complicated and painful because he has a severely strained relationship with the whole sport, in some ways that come back to valentino and in some ways that go beyond him. and post-retirement, it's not like casey has completely eschewed that active connection to the sport - he was a test rider, he wanted to race again in 2015 as a replacement for dani, he's worked as a rider coach. so again *wiggles hand* complicated. fundamentally though, yes, two very different outlooks. valentino was desperate to race in motogp until he couldn't any more. whereas casey? he's not even missed the racing itself:

can you imagine something more foreign to valentino than this... who loves nothing more than the thrill of the hunt, of the chase, of the kill... that is not a man who was showing up every weekend for the qualifying sessions. it's a way in which they could not be more different - and of course that's further reflected in what they've chosen to do with their time since retirement. valentino is so eternally restless, casey needed to ground himself again. valentino will not stop racing for as long as is physically possible, whereas casey is spending his days fishing... or swinging golf clubs apparently. wait a minute, you say his house was destroyed? by a tornado? ah

anyhow, that's the bit I love about them (not the tornado bit)... how they're both extremely similar and extremely different at the same time - that's the kind of tension through which the narrative juices flow... they're similar in ways you kind of have to be if you want to be very good at a sport, and very good in that sport specifically. in their commitment, their will, their passion for what they do. their competitive instincts, their need to win. how interested they are in preserving the 'soul' of their sport, how they were both firmly on the anti-electronics train for years and years... valentino being told about casey's comments in 2013 pressers and being like 'yeah I'm with him on this'... casey saying in 2018 that valentino is, and I quote, "like me: if it weren't for all these electronics that manage the bike, if the power was controlled only by the rider's right wrist, rossi would still be number one on the track". by the way, and this has absolutely zero relevance to this post, I do need to bring up this comment from the same interview because it makes me laugh:

so real, casey. I wanted drama too. anyway, that comment casey made about the 'stunning blood red' ducati being contaminated by luminous yellow or whatever - obviously in context it was anti-valentino, but it was also revealing that this is even something he cares about because he loves this sport... he wants it to remain true to itself... he regrets not having had the chance to ride the 500cc bikes that valentino was the last guy to be able to win a title on, which obviously valentino is also insanely proud of. there's little things that stand out when you cross-read their autobiographies - like for instance the deep preoccupation with the 'bike or rider' question, partly because they'd both been accused of owing their achievements to something else other than their actual ability (and of course, because they're funny like that, they do both absolutely do this to each other) (also to some extent literally every champion gets put through this, they sure do have a lot of opinions about it though). their thoughts on the importance of being honest to yourself and being honest about what you owe your success to... about not deluding yourself, of not blaming the bike when you are the one to make an error... there's plenty of interesting overlap in what they write y'know

they are both incredibly capable of holding grudges, they are both petty to a fault and will remember any offence you committed even if it was about seven years ago (genuinely casey might be even worse on this metric). and they use this to motivate themselves... they are both so so determined to prove people wrong. if they think you've wronged them, they openly admit that they use that as fuel to spur themselves on. it's the power of spite - yamaha rejected casey so he wanted to show them, nobody thought valentino could make the yamaha switch work so he wanted to rub it in honda's faces. they love to get even. they can be quite suspicious of others to the point of paranoia; there's a world in which they combine their powers to be extremely accomplished conspiracy theorists. they both have a temper - it's easier to get casey angry, but valentino is downright vicious when effectively provoked. plus, and this bit cannot be stressed enough, they are both insane. different flavours of insane, but, still, insane. if you spend enough time thinking about laguna 2008, this kind of becomes one of the key takeaways - because, okay, valentino's riding was. eh. but casey's riding? also very! eh! valentino started it but casey joined in! casey always talked about how much that race changed for him, how it taught him to be more selfish, to just race for himself... and even if it made him feel bad, the thing about casey is that he was willing to do that

but at the same time, of course they're both very different, in all the deeply obvious ways. their respective relationships to publicity, to media, to fame - valentino does struggle with it, does hate it a lot of the time, but at the end of the day he still shines in the spotlight and is an incredibly effective communicator. he's willing to play the game a lot more than casey is... although casey can play it too, if in a different way, when valentino forces him into it. casey's still willing to play it now, which is why you hear him constantly offering his commentary on that rivalry - he's selling a story, a narrative that he may genuinely believe in but that also is of course supposed to flatter him. at the end of the day, however, casey doesn't quite get why all of this has to be such a big part of the sport, why it's necessary to even have anything apart from the racing... whereas valentino has always understood why all the other stuff exists and why it's worth engaging with the public-facing side of the sport, even when he hasn't liked it

valentino loves the sport in its entirety, immediately embraced the entire circus of the paddock and found it endlessly exciting and exhilarating from the very first moment, whereas casey has often wished he could escape all parts of the sport that aren't the racing itself. valentino is someone who has spoken at length about the bonds of friendship with his team and how important they are to him, whereas casey is a man who has said his only friend in the paddock is his wife. the very strong but different connections they both have to their place of origin, and how meaningful those are to both of them, how important it is to their sense of identity... somewhere they'll always come back to. and of course there's a ruthlessness to valentino that is mostly alien to casey, if not entirely. valentino relishes the battle, whereas casey would prefer to avoid it. there are things valentino is ready to do, lines he's ready to cross, where casey doesn't even understand why you would do any of that. valentino loves having... if not an enemy, then certainly a target - and while casey is hardly a stranger to the motivating power of spite, he is more or less happy to complete his track times on an empty bit of asphalt. relatedly, he also wishes to believe that he is completely immune to any kind of psychological tactics... and sometimes he's more right than he's given credit for and sometimes he's wrong. casey is a lot more preoccupied with this rivalry than valentino is - and of course it has a far more defining role within his career than vice versa. casey walked away so much sooner than valentino did because he had grown estranged from the sport he had so loved. whereas valentino never stopped loving it, even when it hurt him, even when it could have killed him... and he never will stop loving it

this post is going to take a bit of a left field turn, sorry. but there's just something about. idk. athletes trapped in a rivalry that's so intense and so meaningful for at least one half, but that's also so about the kind of... gulf between them, the mutual lack of comprehension, where it feels like the divide is so big it might be unbridgeable... anyway, it always makes me think of a specific bit of andre agassi's autobiography where he talks about his rivalry with pete sampras. so here:

Walking up to the gate, who should I see but Pete. As always, Pete. He looks as if he's done nothing for the last month but practise, and when he wasn't practising, he was lying on a cot in a bare cell, thinking about beating me. He's rested, focused, wholly undistracted. I've always thought the differences between Pete and me were overblown by sportswriters. It seemed too convenient, too important for fans, and Nike, and the game, that Pete and I be polar opposites, the Yankees and Red Sox of tennis. The game's best server versus its best returner. The diffident Californian versus the brash Las Vegan. It all seemed like horseshit. Or, to use Pete's favorite word, nonsense. But at this moment, making small talk at the gate, the gap between us appears genuinely, frighteningly wide, like the gap between good and bad. I've often told Brad that tennis plays too big a part in Pete's life, and not a big enough part in mine, but Pete seems to have the proportions about right. Tennis is his job, and he does it with brio and dedication, while all my talk of maintaining a life outside tennis seems like just that - talk. Just a pretty way of rationalizing all my distractions. For the first time since I've known him - including the times he's beaten my brains out - I envy Pete's dullness. I wish I could emulate his spectacular lack of inspiration, and his peculiar lack of need for inspiration.

obviously the specific details of the rivalry are very different, and the two rivalries don't map neatly onto each other at all. but I don't know, it's always felt a good way of summing up that! disconnect!! the whole world might want you to be distinct from your rival for narrative purposes and you're aware of how artificial the whole thing is... but sometimes it can still be true... casey's always talking about how he never got obsessed with his rivals, how he always treated them all the same, how it was all just externally imposed onto him... which, okay, we could perhaps question the supposed lack of obsession, but it still comes back to how you don't want it to just be about you and that other guy. always you and them, them and you - and maybe you can't actually escape it because it's the truth... it's your legacy, it's fundamentally interwoven into the fabric of your career, it's why you will never truly free yourself from that narrative. "the gap between us appears genuinely, frighteningly wide, like the gap between good and bad"... you're bound together in your shared passion for this sport, but your biggest rival is also somebody who you feel like you'll never truly understand

casey may feel alienated from valentino and in doing so feel alienated from the very sport itself. whereas for valentino, casey was just what he needed. having casey was something motivating, something exciting for valentino - however annoying he found that man, he always needs something to inspire him and for a while there that something was casey. it's a rivalry that wore away at casey while at the same time it lit a fire within valentino... the 'cordial' mutual hatred they exhibited towards each other, wrapped up in this sense of mutual estrangement, it weighed more heavily on one of them than it did on the other... all these similarities between the two characters that exist alongside the violence of the contrast between them. that underlying and inescapable sense of alienation. on some level, they were always perfectly clear on who the other man was when they were fighting each other - and tailored their approach to the rivalry accordingly. but knowing doesn't quite equal empathy, it's not the same as understanding, and the distance between the pair of them inevitably remained. hey, maybe a dinner will fix it, maybe casey can explain where he was coming from to valentino and get the chance to interrogate valentino on the same. because that's what casey's expressing there, right, when he's talking about telling valentino his 'challenges' from his 'point of view'... it's not even as much about understanding as much as it is about being understood. it's about getting valentino to comprehend casey's side of things. maybe even getting valentino to care. of course, more likely than not, the dinner hasn't happened and will never happen. more likely than not, that gap will remain unbridgeable. perhaps it's too much to ask for, to ever truly know your foil. perhaps it's even more impossible to expect to be known

[trashcanfanfics]

Hmm, Angel Dust with an S/o noble overlord who managed to break Angel's contract with Val and take him away from him. fluff mixed with a little nsfw :)

I'm gonna be honest, whenever I think about Angel, all I wanna do is get him tf out of Val's reach

Also, only slight nsfw because I'm not confident in my abilities to write a full on scene for that, I'm sorry :(

Angel had come home, covered in bite marks and his own blood again. You watched from the couch with your book in hand as he walked in through the front door. It worried you, that he would come home like this, broken and defeated.

"Welcome home, my love," you spoke softly as you rose up to go greet him, setting the book aside. He mumbled out a half assed greeting in response. As soon as you were close enough, you hugged him tightly. Angel wrapped both sets of arms around you and let out a shaky sigh. It sounded like he was ready to cry.

"Would you like a bath? I'll draw you one." You gently let go before you grabbed his lower left hand to lead him to the huge bathroom centered around a giant clawfooted tub. Refusing to let go of his hand, you turned the knob to start the water and waited for the right temperature before plugging the drain.

Once the tub was full, you stood, facing him and gently helped him take off his clothes. You barely grazed your hand across one of the marks, making him hiss in pain. This made your blood boil. You were sick of this. Angel coming home beaten, marked, and in despair. You won't stand for this anymore. He had begged you not to get involved, said that it'd be worse if you intervened. You helped him into the tub once he was fully undressed.

"Ya not gonna join me?" He asked in a small voice, he was tryng to sound playful but it came out sad, defeated. You smiled weakly and shook your head.

"No, I thought I'd just wash you tonight, if that's alright with you." You liked doing this after he came home like this, offering him a choice. Giving him the freedom to ask for what he wanted. There was a sneaking suspicion you had that said he just wanted to wash off and sleep. The bags under his eyes helped this theory.

"That sounds nice." He sank deeper into the tub as you turned the knob off and helped him clean the blood out of his fur. The gentle motions of running your hands in his soft hair was enough to let his shoulders droop in relaxation. Your mind drifted off while you cleaned him. You kissed his head, healing his wounds, a habit now.

Valentino will no longer hurt your beloved. You would not allow him to do this anymore. These past few weeks you've been researching and studying dealmaking. The processes, terms, and ways to look into loopholes. All you have to do is get your hands on the physical contract to see what you can find. If you couldn't find anything, you'd just set the contract on fire and hit Valentino before running away.

After Angel was fully clean, you grabbed his favorite embroidered towel and helped him out of the bath. Once again grabbing his hand, you lead him to your shared bedroom and helped him into the softest pajamas he owns. He laid down under the silky sheets on the plush mattress and snuggled into it. You changed into your own pajamas before snuggling in with him. Your fingers gently brushed through his hair as softly sang him to sleep. You ran your thumb across the slight purple under his eye, noting how exhausted he looked even in sleep.

~*~

You woke up to the early birdsong of the morning glory in your garden and gently disentangled yourself from Angel's many armsnd made your way over to the edge. There, you stood straight and rounded the bed quietly to place a soft kiss to his forehead. With one last glance, and a whispered "I love you", you turned off the light and left the room, down the hall, out the front door. You're going to pay that bastard a visit.

~*~

Angel woke up feeling better and less sore than he expected. He sat up and looked over to his loving partner's side of the bed only to frown. They weren't there. Getting up, he stretched and decided to look in the kitchen. Maybe they had gotten up already and were making breakfast, though they usually would have the staff take care of it. He didn't know why, they were an amazing cook and it was always a treat when you did make meals.

"S/o? Ya in here, babes?" He opened the door to see the cooks already making breakfast, one handed him a coffee when they passed by to get to some more ingredients, but you weren't there. They looked pretty busy, so he decided to take his cup and search elsewhere.

He checked the dining room, library, living room, their study, parlor, hell, even the garden (saying hi to Nuggets in his own little mansion on the way), but they weren't in any of those places! Where are they? He was getting worried now.

"Uh, excuse me, sire?" Angel looked to the speaker of the voice to see a small demon that reminded him slightly of Niffty. "My liege has left a note for you, sire." The demon handed him a small piece of paper, bowed, and then skittered off. Angel will never get used to the treatment here. He shook his head and focused on the paper.

"My dearest love, I will be out for a short while, but don't fret, I'll be home soon with a surprise and a gift. I love you very much, S/o." He read aloud. "Aren't gifts and surprises the same thing?" He decided to not worry about that and smiled as he imagined when you'd be back.

~*~

You entered your home tired and frazzled, but with a smile beaming with happiness. You had successfully gotten rid of the contract between Valentino and Angel. Now it was time to tell your lover and give him the gifts you bought him.

"My heart? I'm home!" You called into the foyer as you went deeper into the house. You checked the living room and parlor before you were wrapped up in an embrace of four arms.

"Babes! Where were ya? I woke up an' you were gone," he mumbled in your ear. You smiled and pat one of his arms to release you. He let go and you turned to face him, holding out all the gift bags you were carrying.

"S/o, what the fuck happened to you? You're bleeding!" At his exclaimation you look down to actually take yourself in and realize he's right. You were so caught up in finally setting him free and getting him gifts that you didn't notice the small cuts. Laughing, you wave your hand and fix yourself up with your abilities.

"So I was, thank you, lovely. Now, here!" You, once again, offer him the gift bags. He takes them in his lower set of hands and uses the upper set to hold your shoulders.

"We ain't gonna roll past that you were hurt, even if ya can heal them. Who did it?" There was murder in his eyes. Your gaze softened and you laughed softly.

"I was going to wait until you opened the gifts and ask 'what's the occasion?' But you seem so eager," you paused to reach up and hold his face in your hands, "Anthony Messina, you are no longer under contract with the overlord Valentino. You are a free man, my love." The expression on his face was nothing short of shock.

"What? Are you serious?" His eyes fill with tears as he breathes and realizes you're right. Angel wouldn't be able to feel Valentino's chains anymore. He was free. "I can't believe it." He lets out a laugh and the tears fall, ruining his make up. Angel lifts you up and kisses you hard.

"My star," you whispered when you parted. He kissed you again with more passion. Your hands travelled through his soft locks, relishing in the feeling.

"Caro mia." He kissed you again, longer this time. The bags fell from his lower arms which then made their way to your thighs, wrapping them around his waist.

"Shall we take this to the room, sweetling?" You asked when you separated again. Angel nodded vigorously and carried you, all the while kissing you.

In the room, you hear him kick the door closed and then lock the door with one of his arms. You continue to kiss and run your tongue along his bottom lip, asking for entrance, which he happily gives. Hands found their way to the other's clothes, ripping them off in urgency to feel each the naked bodies beneath.

You wiggled your half naked form from his arms and separated the kiss. Before he could complain, you grabbed his lower left hand and yanked him over to the bed, effortlessly throwing him onto it. You crawled on top of him and kissed him lovingly, caressing his face and then down his chest and finally resting on his hips, giving a small squeeze. Parting from his lips, you said a sentence that set his body on fire.

"I'm going to show you what a true claiming feels like."

[thankskenpenders]

And so that’s it... nearly 200 issues deep, we’re done with the contributions of original writer Michael Gallagher. I’ve been asked in the past about the possibility of writing an article going over Gallagher’s run, like what I did with Penders. And I might still do that. But for now, here’s a shorter postmortem summarizing my feelings on the work of the original writer for history’s longest-running video game comic

I think it’s easy to look back on Gallagher’s silly old stories with a lot of nostalgia, especially after seeing what the series would become in its Dark Age. I can’t blame anyone who feels this way. I feel that way sometimes, too. It was a simpler time, with short, self-contained stories and a ton of puns, and it was a lot more easily digestible than a lot of the teen melodrama and half-baked sci-fi that followed. But the thing is... that doesn’t mean that Gallagher’s writing was good

Gallagher was always an odd fit for Sonic. I can’t really blame the man for introducing lame concepts like Cal and Al that didn’t fit in with Sonic early on because it’s not like he had much to work with in the early days. The guy was expected to write a monthly comic series based on a couple 16-bit platformers with very little story and some snippets from a cartoon that wasn’t out yet. He also had no way of knowing that his work here would lay the foundation for the longest video game comic ever made. I don’t envy his job. Of course he’d do a goofball story where Sonic travels back to caveman times. It’s not like he had much else to do

But as the series progressed and the cartoons and games gave the comic writers more material to work with, Gallagher didn’t really play along. He gave us a few solid, fun stories like Mecha Madness, but for the most part he was off in his own world, trying to sell us on shoehorned characters like the Forty Fathom Freedom Fighters or the Downunda Freedom Fighters who existed almost exclusively to deliver new flavors of lame pun. One time he even worked with Jim Valentino to make a naval-gazing parody of classic Guardians of the Galaxy so they could make lame puns about a comic they used to write (that very few children in 2001 reading Archie Sonic would be familiar with)

People generally pinpoint Penders as the guy who became obsessed with his own pet characters over the main cast as time went on, but really, Gallagher was just as guilty. And honestly, sometimes Gallagher doing it bugged me more. At least Penders had some prominent characters people actually liked, like Elias, Lara-Su, and Julie-Su, as well as some semblance of an overarching plot to work with. Meanwhile Gallagher was over here trying desperately to get people to care about a group of characters he had created exclusively as a vehicle for trite Australia jokes

Gallagher did introduce a few characters who stuck around, but he doesn’t really deserve much of the credit for that. Most notable would probably be Fiona Fox, who would become a major recurring character under later writers... except Gallagher only really invented her robotic doppelganger that Robotnik tricked Tails into falling in love with that one time. He created Knuckles’ grandfather Athair, the one comic character to somehow make it into a cartoon, but Penders helped out with that lore and did more with the character, meaning most people just assume he’s another Penders echidna. He created Tails’ parents, but Karl and Ian were the ones who actually did stuff with them. And he created the Ancient Walkers, who were kind of neat at first but quickly devolved into a tired plot device, only to be killed off by Ian almost immediately to cut down on the deus ex machinas. If you look at the list of characters Gallagher created, it’s mostly just randos he created for the sake of puns

And that’s really what most of it comes down to. Lame puns. I’m totally down for Sonic stories that go for a silly tone. I love Sonic Boom as much as the next fan, and I’ve been having a blast with the extremely goofy Sonic X comics. I’m not a cartoon snob who won’t watch a show that doesn’t have action and drama and lore, I’m out here watching shows like Apple & Onion. But while Gallagher could write good jokes sometimes, he mostly relied on groanworthy newspaper strip-level puns. (I guess it’s fitting, considering he’s related to both the guy who created Heathcliff AND his successor who makes those comics about the Garbage Ape.) I love me a good pun from time to time, and a lot of Gallagher’s are funnier when shared out of context, but when a story is just wall to wall puns it becomes agonizing. Puns should be a spice, not a main ingredient. And when Gallagher got a chance to follow an ACTUAL newspaper comic strip format in the Off Panel, he fared even worse. It was so rare for the Off Panels he wrote to actually be any funny

He WAS genuinely funny at times, though. I’ll give him credit for that. I don’t want it to seem like I hated ALL of his stories. (He did impress me with at least one political joke that’s sadly still relevant today, and in hindsight there’s something really funny on a meta level about the dark and gritty return of Cal and Al.) I think his best work came when he was paired with better artists. Scott Shaw’s more energetic Sonics really helped sell the cartoony comedy in the original miniseries, and obviously Spaziante’s work on Mecha Madness made that story legendary. When he was stuck with the less exciting Manak or Mawhinney, though, not so much

Beyond the puns, there was also this undercurrent of nastiness, meanness, and general grossness in his stories that I don’t see as many fans pick up on. This was mainly evident in the many odd decisions he made with the female cast

We had his take on Sally, who was treated as little more than Sonic’s annoying, moody, bossy girlfriend who bickered with him, sat on a big throne, and occasionally got to be a damsel in distress. He added Bunnie to the cast early on, but it felt like he didn’t have many ideas for what to do with her except make her the butt of jokes about her being a southern belle, including literally making her say “the South shall rise again!” We had Barby Koala’s extremely creepy flirting with Tails, who was half her age. We had that tone deaf Off-Panel joke about turning the special dedicated to the female readers into a swimsuit special (which isn’t far off from what everyone else actually did). And we also had that baffling story where Dulcy killed her mother. I have NO idea what the fuck he thought he was going for with that one.

It wasn’t just the girls, though--Antoine was somehow even more of a punching bag in Gallagher’s early stories than he was on SatAM. At least in the cartoon Sonic was responding to Antoine’s’ massive ego when he poked fun at him. In the early comics, Sonic would constantly rag on Antoine at any opportunity he got. It was VERY distracting in the early issues, and it made his Sonic come off as way more of a jerk

Later writers would often talk about needing to fix certain characters. Penders, for all his countless insufferable faults, used his early stories to steer Sally towards the version of the character fans knew from SatAM. (He then ruined Sally in his own special way, but, you know.) Just about every writer who touched him spent years and years trying to fix Antoine and make readers stop hating him. The unspoken part here is that the original incarnations of these characters that everyone had to work so hard to fix... were Gallagher’s

Again, Gallagher didn’t have an easy job as the first writer on this series, and most of his stories were... fine. Nothing I’d recommend to non-fans, but they had their moments. They make for an amusing read for their sheer absurdity. But a lot of it ranged from not very good to outright bad. We’ll always cut him some slack for having so little to work off of when he started and for writing stories that were, in hindsight, better (or at least less grating) than a lot of the melodramatic schlock that came later. I’ll always have some nostalgia for those simpler times. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that Gallagher’s stuff was ever all that good

But I can’t hate the guy too much, because he gave me the greatest Sonic character of all time

[g-on-ef]

Hey is it possible to ask for Striker being extra protective over 8 month pregnant Blitz?

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Anon 2: Hellos I was hoping you still did prompts because I would Love to see one of Striker being over protective of a heavily pregnant Blitz if possible

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A/N: Since these two prompts are relatively the same I decided to combine them together ^^ hope you guys enjoy it ^^ also sorry for being MIA I wasn't feeling good but today is a good day ^^ my boys got a number 1 on Billboard for a second week ^^

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Month 1

Finding out he was pregnant was the scariest thing to ever happen to him, seriously knowing that there was a new life growing inside him was scaring him shitless, what made it worse was he wasn't sure how to tell the baby's father.

After vomiting out his lunch in his and Striker’s bathroom Blitz began to think what to do next.

It's not like Striker would leave him or anything, he was just scared that he wouldn't want the baby or worse would leave him once he finds out he was pregnant.

It was weird to think like that since he has shown time and time again what an amazing father he is, than again Loona wasn't a little kid nor was she a baby so maybe that's why it was easier for him to be a parent to her than it would be an actual baby.

Blitz leans against the bathroom wall as he thinks about what to do, lying to Striker was out of the question, the man knew Blitz better than anyone and knew when he was lying so there was no point in doing it.

Maybe he could avoid Striker...who was he kidding he could barely go a day without his beloved no way he was gonna be able to go nine months without him.

Blitz curled into a ball and wrapped his tail around himself. No avoiding him won’t work. Maybe he could ease him into letting him know he’s pregnant like letting him know by dropping hints and let him figure it out himself.

"Blitz?"

The city imp jumped a little as he turned to see Striker approach him.

"Loona told me you were, whoa are you okay?" Striker stared at his beloved who was curled in a ball and face was a little paler than it should be.

“Umm...well...you see...” 

Striker approached the city imp he placed his hands on his forehead and checked his temperature.

“You seem a little warmer than usual but nothing a bowl of soup can fix,”

“I’m pregnant!” so much for easing him into the news.

Striker stare at his beloved for a good minute.

The silence was making Blitz a little uncomfortable, he wasn’t sure if this was him trying to find the words to say something sarcastic or him to try and find the words that he didn’t want the baby without upsetting Blitz.

“If...if you don’t want the baby your more than welcome to leave, I won’t stop you,”

That seem to snap Striker out of his trance.

“Not want the-Blitz are you crazy?”

Blitz shrugged his shoulders, Striker just stare at his mate and saw how scared he looked, Striker didn’t blame him, he probably thought Striker didn’t want the baby since he was...silent...

“Oh, shit Blitz,” he grabbed the smaller imp and placed him on his lap Blitz curled himself against Striker as his cowboy began to stroke his cheek.

“Oh baby, I was quiet because I was trying to think of ways to tell you to get rid of the baby I was just quiet because I am shocked that you and I are gonna have a baby,”

Blitz pulled back a little to stare at Striker,

“So...you’re not gonna leave me and our baby?”

“What? Of course not baby,” he held Blitz closer to his body.

“I would never leave you or our misfit family,”

Blitz smiled as he purred and got closer to Striker. Striker stood up and carried Blitz out of the bathroom and into their own bed.

He tucked him and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Get some rest my beautiful, you’ll need it, and you,” he began to rub Blitz small tummy.

“You take it easy on your daddy okay?” Blitz smiled as he watch Striker place a kiss on his tummy, maybe things won’t be so bad.

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Month 3

What was Blitz thinking that things wouldn’t be so bad with Striker knowing he was pregnant. 

Seriously Blitz was just 3-months pregnant and Striker baby proof not only their apartment but his office.

There were times he couldn’t find the stapler and whenever he asked Striker he would take the papers and stable them himself.

Blitz was still looking for the damn thing.

He was worse with Moxxie, the poor assassin came rushing in with a pair of scissors and Striker respond with a punch to the face.

He gave the cowboy an earful for that and made him sleep on the couch.

Striker wouldn’t let him do any heavy lifting and while Blitz love being pampered Striker was taking it to far.

He can still lift a stack of papers.

“Ugh, your not even born yet and daddy dearest is already protective of you,”

“SIR!” and there goes Moxxie no doubt being thrown around because he was carrying a glass of soda...again.

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Month six

He was gonna kill Striker, no seriously he was gonna kill him. Loona and Nathan (he’s still surprised that the little imp agreed to join their family with no questions asked) ate all the chips, cookies, and other sugary sweets and process food there was in the kitchen.

“Where the fuck are all my chocolate?!”

“Dad told us we can eat them,” Nathan asked as he munch on some nachos.

“Why the fuck did he do that?!”

“It’s not good for the baby,” Loona said as she finished the last of the soda.

He glared at his two teenage children, the two tagged team with Striker to make sure that no harm came to Blitz or the baby.

Honestly he was beginning to think his family of three where just using the “we are protecting you” excuse to hurt anyone that came near him.

He was still apologizing to Charlie for Loona shooting at her when she was coming to congratulate her brother and was excited for being an aunt.

Not to mention he owed Angel Dust some whisky after Nathan caught him in a trap.

“You didn’t have to eat all of my snacks he whined.

Loona passed him a box of sliced apples and strawberries.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Food that will be good for you and the baby,”

Blitz groan, he was killing Striker when he got back. 

“Hey Blitz-”

Striker felt pain in his groin, he kneeled down and watched as Blitz walked away from him.

“He’s still pissed about his diet?”

His kids nodded their heads as they kept eating Blitz’s junk food.

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Striker maybe protective but he was so sweet like now how he was rubbing his tummy and singing to his tummy,

Moonchild you shine When you rise, it's your time C'mon yo Moonchild don't cry When moon rise, it's your time C'mon yo Moonchild you shine When moon rise, it's your time C'mon yo

Blitz always loved Striker’s voice and hearing it sing to their baby was the best thing for him especially when their little one always calmed down when they heard their daddy’s singing voice.

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Month 8

Blitz held onto his children, someone was in their home, an overlord...and not just any overlord, Valentino, the moth pimp was still pissed at him for refusing to kill an innocent child all because Vox dumped his ass.

He, Loona, and Nathan were hiding in the closet as Val and his men destroyed his house, he prayed that Striker would return soon from the human world.

The door to the closet opened and Val stood there with a wide grin.

“Found you,”

He brought Nathan and Loona closer to his body while both teenagers wrapped their arms around Blitz’s stomach in an attempt to protect his belly.

“You know Blitz you shouldn’t have refused me, if you didn’t maybe your sweet family wouldn’t be harm.

His eyes landed on Loona,

“Oh yes, your little hellhound would make a fine addition to my collection,” Loona growled as Blitz held her closer.

Val’s eyes landed on Nathan,

“The little imp boy and the thing inside you will definitely serve my clients really well,” Nathan whimpered as Blitz growled at him.

“Touch my kids and I’ll kill you,”

Val laughed.

“You? Kill me? now how could you possibly do that?”

A loud bang could be heard in the house making the family sigh in relief.

“What the fuck?” 

Before Val could turn around Striker began to stab him with a holy blade.

The moth demon howl in pain as the knife was stabbed inside of him repeatedly Striker stabbed the moth multiple times, he didn’t stop, not until he was certain the moth was dead.

Once he saw that the demon was reduce to ash he turned to his family.

Opening his arms his children and Blitz ran to him. He wrapped his arms and tail around them, thanking La Santa Muerte that his family was okay and nothing bad happened to them.

He checked them all one by one stroking their faces, checking to see if there was a scratch on them or not hugging them close to his body.

He rubbed Blitz’s tummy and bend down to kiss it.

“Are you okay Blitz?”

“Yeah, we’re fine, don’t worry about us,”

Striker just hugged his family Blitz purred and was thankful that Striker came to save them than again, he knew Striker and knew that his mate would always be there to protect him, their teenage children, and their unborn baby.

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A/N: So what do you guys think? remember if you have any Striker and Blitz Prompts send them my way ^^ I will be posting more as week goes by ^^ GoNEF out ^^ and remember Armys to stream butter !!!

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[voxiiferous]

He'd never actually met Alastor's thrall, but it was impossible to be as... aware of the Radio Demon as he is without an acknowledgement of them. He laughs, "He never used to," but seventy years has changed all of them, and it had been the better part of a century for Alastor. "I can admire anyone managing to put up with Alastor long enough for him to listen," He tries to remember when the cat died... he wants to say around the time that Valentino did. After his time, and Alastor's as well.

Vox shakes his head. "Common misconception-- the upper of choice was benzedrine." It's a large part why exe.stasy works the way it does, he modelled it after what he knew. "The dancing helped keep me away from the barbiturates-- don't need sleeping pills if you're already exhausted." And maybe it had a hand in why he's been so thin, granted so had a lot of people in his industry. He'd run into the producer's wife more than once at the drug store-- make sure to stay young and pretty on screen, never show you're tired even when the days run long. Alastor probably got the snake-oil cures full of cocaine. "Also it was medicine... like aspirin, didn't need a prescription even." Not good medicine, but that's what it was marketed as.

Understanding Astor is probably asking too much-- despite having died of a heart attack, in large part caused by a concerning amount of caffeine, she had only cut back a little in death, which had less attention to murderous intent. "I wish it did," but honestly, considering the range of truly messed up things he'd seen in Hell, that was just sort of... standard, if the more... extreme end. His expression twists into one of confusion, eyes narrowing. "Do you even like them?"

It would be hard to do something to keep him out. He could change his locks all he wanted, code warnings to go off if the windows broke, but that all meant nothing when Astor just appeared inside, and anything motion activated would be a pain for Vark or Hellaina, or anyone else that moved. "No, that feels like it might be a lot of effort for what would, in the end, be very little payoff."

He goes cross-eyes following the poke. He can see why people would assume, he really can, but it's hardly like a nose is the only way to smell, lot's of things could smell even without noses. And okay, maybe snakes didn't smell with their tongues, but butterflies used their antennas and their feet, so clearly it wasn't a totally alien concept. "You could have asked? How do you assume I see?"

He smiles, holding up a hand and letting small sparks jump between his fingers. "I have enough electricity flowing through me, and at my disposal to fry a man to a crisp-- the idea that some of that comes through probably can't be a surprise, and it's not like a powerful battery, more like," he brings to fingers together, creating a space meant to be representative of the smaller handheld batteries.

The threat at least, is enough to make him laugh. The fact that he feels more comfortable talking to Astor than his own boyfriend says something... sad, he thinks. It's a ridiculous conversations, but it's fun. When did love start feeling like a chore? When had the promises of forever just become the thing he said? Years ago, he'd thought that maybe it would get better, but it hadn't, it had just gotten worse, the cycles immortalized. "Considering I don't have one, I think that makes for an easy enough toll to pay. Where does the line between punishment and plat lay?"

[heartofsnark]

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Eight): Icarus Falls

Notes: Why, yes, I am posting these relatively quickly. This is the last of a backlog since I’m actively still working on the next chapter, This is a doozy of a chapter, both emotionally and length wise, but I’m rather proud of it, if I’m being honest. I recommend settling in a snack and maybe...just maybe some tissues.... 

Word Count: 15327 

Chapter Warnings:  Multiple deaths, violence, gore, grief, angst. 

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

V and Jackie get into the backseat of the Delamain taxi. White and tan leather interior, despite looking the nicest she ever has in twenty years she still feels like she might stain the white leather. No driver, instead there’s screens and consoles in the back of the seats in front of them. An avatar of a bald man with stark unnaturally white skin and blue lips 

“Welcome on board this Delamain service. With Delamain, you leave your problems at the door,” the AI avatar greets them in a robotic voice. 

“Son of a bitch! Better fuckin' believe I will!” Jackie yells out, still grinning. V lets out a breath of air meant to sound like a laugh, but the lump in her throat isn’t making it any easier. 

“I see no reason why you should be using expletives.”

“Sorry, he gets… excited.”  Her voice is tighter than she wants it to be, her leg bouncing now. 

“Damn right, I’m excited. Hey, Del, what about that time I wanted to hire you for my cousin's bachelor party, huh?” 

“Unfortunately, we do not take on such contracts.”

“Three months I'd been savin' up scratch… Egh, water under the bridge. Hit it, Del!”

“Before we begin our journey, I must verify the identities of all customers. Please proceed to connect your personal links,” the mercs plug their personal links into the console, “Thank you. "Excelsior" package activated.”

Crisp subtitles for Delamain alight along her contacts, more comprehensive than the lip reading tech sometimes gives. Maybe his AI avatar enunciates more properly than a human, she wonders. 

“"Excelsior"? Hohoho, this just keeps gettin' better!”

Jackie laughs as the taxi cab starts to drive and V finds herself fiddling with her suit sleeve. It’s perfectly tailored, but she still feels like a kid in dress up. Having to pretend she’s a corpo, having to pretend to be a hearing person. Her bright painted nails seem to clash so much with the persona and she curses herself for not changing the polish. What if they’re caught right away? The corps smelling Heywood and The Badlands on them the second they walk through the door. What if the spoofed SID hack doesn’t work, what if the bot malfunctions… What if, what if, what if; spins around her brain. They can’t fuck this up, there’s no room for mistakes. One disaster will destroy their reputations, hell their entire merc careers. And that's the best case scenario. 

When she glances at Jackie there’s no hint of nerves, no hint of reservation or fear, just giddy excitement. Like a kid getting ready to hit up a party. 

“What’s got you riled up?” She asks in spoken English, deciding she’ll mostly speak for the ride since Jackie is the only person really here, that way he doesn’t have to look at her the entire time. And maybe she’s also hoping if she talks enough she won’t clam up too bad in Konpeki.  

“Hang on, watch this… Delamain! Initiate combat mode!”

She can see the bright red ink of his tattoo peeking from his suit sleeve, eyes drawn to it, and something about that scares her more; a hint of his Valentino roots showing, would it be a literal red flag for Konpeki security. 

“My apologies, but you do not appear to be in any sort of imminent danger,” Delamain crushes Jackie’s hopes, a frown replacing his grin. 

“Huh… Oh well. Trust me, he'll mow down an army of ‘Saka ninjas if it comes down to it,” Jackie explains to V and she wraps her arms around herself, resisting the desire to bring her legs up into the seat, trying to get her mind off her nerves. 

“So, what else is included in Excelsior mode?” V tries signing to the AI, curious if it has translation tech for ASL. 

“Comprehensive health coverage, including the handling and disposal of a client's remains should death occur on board,” Delamain responds without hesitation and instantly ruins any chance of her getting her mind off the massive risks within this job. 

“Damn. Shit got dark pretty quick,” Jackie comments. 

“Dex isn’t skimping though.” 

“And thanks to you, we're still gettin' a juicy forty percent.”

“You’re welcome.” 

“Excelsior…This is how you wanna cruise into the major leagues…” He says like the job is already done and they’re hitting up an after party… 

“Wouldn’t get too excited yet, Jack, doing a job not hitting up a party.” And her words are too sharp, voice too venomous and rough in her throat. She regrets it as soon as they leave her lips, as soon as she’s spoken them into reality, wishing she could swallow them back down. His face drops completely, eyes harsh and she knows she fucked up. 

“For real, V…? See me as that shallow?”

“I-”

“Lemme explain somethin' to you, V… My whole life I've spent in this shit around us! And I ain't goin' back!”

“I’m sorry, really, I just… I’m worried and I let my nerves talk for me, I’m sorry.” She quickly tries to smooth it over, those knots in her gut only winding tighter with Jackie mad at her. 

“Swear to christ, V, I will never fucking get you,” he says, shaking his head and looking out the window.

“What do you mean?” 

“Twenty years old, sitting in the back of a Delamain, on your way to do a job for Dex fuckin’ Deshawn and you can’t even muster a fuckin smile? You fuckin’ know what I’d have done to be where you are right now when I was your age, I was still dreaming of seeing The Afterlife! Took you less than a year to be here, took me ten! And you ain’t even happy about it! Then you act like I’m not takin’ it serious, like I don’t got my fuckin’ head in the game, just cause you can’t appreciate where the fuck you are right now!” 

She chews her lip, not sure what to say to him. Guilt coming over her. He’s right, she hasn’t lived in Night City nor been a merc nearly as long. He’s been doing this since he left the Valentinos… For Jackie this has been a lifelong dream, the ultimate goal. She didn’t even consider it a possibility until she met him and now she’s already on her way there. Of course he’s happy, on the precipice of his dreams coming true. 

“I’m sorry, really I didn’t mean to piss on your parade.” 

“Yet somehow you always do.” 

V sighs watching the city pass outside her window for a few more moments, tapping her fingers, that knot feels like a ball of lead now. She wants to claw her skin off,  tear and tear away at herself, at her being, and maybe, just maybe she’ll find someone better under the gore.  Someone who isn’t such a fucking asshole. Someone who knows how to keep their mouth shut and doesn’t ruin everything for everyone else. She’ll never understand why Jackie puts up with her, why he has for so long. She just doesn’t want to fuck this up. The job, her friendship, the little bit of happiness she’s built. V wrings her hands together, tight enough to hurt and she twists them a little harder, nails digging into the skin. If she can’t find anyone better maybe she’ll just claw away until she’s nothing at all. 

She’s already a bundle of nerves over the heist and she can’t stand another moment of the tension hanging thick in the air. 

“Did you fuck my wife?” She says in her best imitation of something between an Italian and a Brooklyn accent, watching Jackie’s face, the hint of a smile tugging at it. Tension starting to melt ever so slightly. 

“Don’t get me started,” he returns forcing the same cheesy voice. 

“Did you fuck my wife?” 

“I think you fucked my wife and got me started.” 

“I got started cause you fucked my wife.” 

“I could trace back the moment I got started it’d definitely be when you fucked my wife!” 

“That is unquestionably when I got started!” They’re smiling now, giggling at every other word as they choke on their cheesy jokes. Tension melts away as a weight is being lifted off her chest. 

“My records indicate that neither of you are married.” 

And they lose it, laughter filling the car at Delamain’s interjection to their stupidity. Its ridiculous and dumb and they sound like children. But, she’s thankful for the moment, the reprieve, where it’s laughter and not nerves tearing at her guts. 

A call notification lights up on V’s optic contacts, T-Bug’s avatar and V answers, the runner’s voice coming just a moment later. 

“Hey. How's things?”

“Eh,” Jackie answers, “been better, been worse.” 

“We’re nearing our destination,” Delamain tells them and V’s throat tightens. 

“Listen, set up a direct, encrypted line to guide you through Konpeki. V, ring Jackie now, see if we're in sync. Can't be too careful.” 

She puts a call through to Jackie, inteface telling her it’s establishing a secure connection.

“And?” Bug asks, expectantly. 

“Got static,” Jackie cringes, “Say somethin', Bug?”

“The greatest crimes issue from a desire for excess and not from necessity."

“Say what now?”

“Yeah, I read you. Not so much your Greek friend, though it was kind of exciting,” Jackie tells her with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Could give it some thought, try to understand…? How 'bout you, V?”

“I want more Aristotle!” 

“Fuck off, both.”

Jackie and V share a giggle at the runner’s expense, V’s going to miss when Bug goes into retirement. If all works out, even on the brighter side, it may be the last time all three of them work together. But at least Bug will be happy and safe, unlike V or Jackie, this was never her dream or end goal. 

“OK, tech checks out, looks like,” T-Bug confirms. 

“Será mejor que sí…”

“Stay in touch”

And V just realizes the taxi has stopped moving, through Jackie’s window she can see the front entrance of the hotel.  The bright red exterior walls, a worker standing at the ready and those nerves are clawing their way back with a vengeance, tearing up her insides and making her want to bolt, terrified that they’lll be found out as soon as they step foot in. They need to get moving, only way to get through the fear is to take control, do what needs to be done. And hopefully avoid puking in the back of an expensive AI taxi. 

“Thank you for choosing the Delamain service. And best of luck. I shall await here for your return.”

“Shit's finally happenin’… “ 

“Its game time, got any iron left on you, time to put it away,” she tells him, tucking her gun and knife into the center compartment. Jackie following suit. V tugs off her suit jacket and rolls her white sleeves to her elbows, making sure her blades are accessible from the start. 

“Alright, Hannah, let’s go.” 

V opens the door of the Delamain, greeted by the view in front of the hotel, in the distance she can see the space travel facility, night settled over the water. The hotel has trees and plants out front, trying to sprinkle some nature into the cement and chrome world of Night City. She carries her suit jacket over her shoulder, keeping one hand busy with it, while the other sits in her pocket. Hoping it will keep her from signing if she needs to talk. 

“Hold on, lemme grab the Flathead.” Jackie pops the trunk of the taxi and pulls out the case with the bot. 

The mercs take the two marble steps up, a vibrant stript of red along the path.There’s long white marble with planters and the name of the hotel inscripted in gold. 

“'Member, reservation's in your name… Ramón. You're there to meet Hajime Taki - military tech department rep. Papers are for the Flathead” T-Bug tells them as they get closer to the double doors. 

“Welcome to Konpeki Plaza,” a man in a red, black, and gold uniform greets them, bowing his head as they pass by.

There’s a large waiting room, white couches along the sides with monitors displaying documentaries and vases with red hologram plants branching out of them. A security gate divides the waiting room from the front desk, scanners to check each guest for weaponry. Beyond it she can see staff with gold plated skin. All non-security personnel of the hotel are gold plated; receptionists, concierge, bartenders, and the like. A requirement for the job, even staff must match the aesthetic. 

“Welcome to Konpeki Plaza. Please come through single file,” The guard tells them as they reach the full body scanner. 

“You got it, holm-- uh, ahem, sir,” Jackie stumbles and V screams internally, watching her friend step forward. Blue light crackles along him, like lightning, then it flashes red. Misty’s warning of mean reds, flaring in V’s mind. 

“Ahem. Hold on got something,” the guard stops Jackie before he can go any further, “Sir, care to explain why you're bringin’ a combat bot onto Konpeki Plaza premises?”

“Arms dealers.” V yells out quickly, hating how forced it sounds, tightening her fingers in her jacket, desperate not to sign on instinct and not realizing she forgot the ‘we’re’ part of her sentence until she finished saying it. 

“Excuse me?”

“Ah!” A gold skinned concierge steps over,  “You are here to see Taki-san, am I right? Please accept my apologies for the confusion.” 

“Pff,” Jackie scoffs as the concierge bows and walks into the lobby, waiting at the front desk. 

V steps into the scanner, guard assuring her it will only take a moment. It distorts her vision, crackling it with blue for just a moment. Then the guard tells her to go ahead and she walks forward, meeting Jackie at the desk. A woman with gold skin, black hair all shaved except for the bangs and sidelocks greets them.  And V is starting to notice that the Arasaka logo is everywhere, the corp hotel owned by them. On the screens, gold emblazoned on marble planters, and on pamphlets. The hotel and Arasaka logo are clearly one in the same. 

“Youkoso. Greetings and welcome to Konpeki Plaza,” she says bowing her head to them and V returns the gesture.

“We’d like to check in,” Jackie says and V sends him a silent thanks for talking. .

“Of course, just a moment, please” the receptionist taps away at a keyboard, “The name on the reservation is…?”

“Victorino.”

“Double room, two adults, one night. Correct?”

“That’s the one,” V tells her, with a tight nod. 

“Perfect… I will go ahead and notify Taki-san of your arrival.”

“Shit, no good, not part of the plan. Talk her up, V, stall!” T-Bug yells out over the call and V is once again wanting to scream. 

“That, uh,  won't be necessary,” she curses herself for stuttering, “We'll go freshen up first, notify him ourselves.”

“But Taki-san is expecting you, no…?”

“Senorita, do you know how long we been traveling? Eighteen hours from New Barcelona. With a delay on Metakey 'cause some cyberpsycho blew himself into bits inside the terminal…”

“Been a nightmare, ugh.” 

“Of course, I understand. You will be in the Lapis Lazuli Suite on level forty-two. Oh, one more little formality… Please validate your SID chip.”

“Honor's all yours, Hannah.” 

A tablet on the table lights up with a bright blue handprint and she’s reminding of her issue getting into her own apartment. Bug said she put a temporary hack on their SID chip, but there’s an extra twinge of anxiety as V lays her hand down on it. She half expects it to show a senior citizen, to be outed as a fraud and tossed out the door. 

“Everything seems to be in order. We wish you a pleasant stay!~” 

“Better get goin'.”

V murmurs a thanks, feeling a bit of relief at having that part of this whole thing done. Playing corpo is somehow more stressful to her than the idea of breaking into Yorinobu’s penthouse. She follows behind Jackie. Large marble planters fill the lobby, some with trees that nearly touch the staggeringly high ceiling. 

“New Barcelona? Really?” T-Bug comments as V follows Jackie up a short set of marble steps. 

“It's called improvisin' - you should try it,” V stares up at a gold framed painting, “Whaddaya think, Hannah"?

“...” V raises an eyebrow at him with a soft noise in her throat. 

“Quaint, cozy. Not like the hotel we had in Zurich for that convention.”

“Don't need that, Jack. Enough.”

“What? I’m takin’ this seriously!” Jackie grumbles when T-Bug scolds him. 

They take two turns through the lobby, guards passing by talking about dolls being left in rough shape as they near what looks to be a bar in the corner. It's an open pathway inside, the bar illuminated in pink and a gold plated woman stands at a podium bearing Arasaka’s logo. There’s a lit collection of alcohol behind the bar, liquor that costs more than V’s rent, which isn’t a hard feat but still rubs her the wrong way. 

“Bar don't look too shabby.”

“We don't do reservations on weekdays, so feel free to grab any available table. Or a couple of stools at the bar if you prefer?” She explains to them, a valley girl accent to her words. 

“Could bring Misty here one day. When we, uh… close this deal.”

“Might take a look around.” 

The idea of sitting down, if only for a moment, and catching her breath after the close call in the lobby sounds nice. Her nerves are frayed already, she’s never wanted to drink so much on a job before. A quick breather before she has a full blown panic attack. 

“Shit,” Jackie curses, “look like some fuckin' travelin' salesman with this case. Go ahead, I’ll go on upstairs.” 

V nods, watching Jackie go to the elevator, a part of her feels guilty, but she doesn’t intend to take too long. And it’s not as if she’s made visiting bars on the job a habit before, she can have this one. She rubs a hand over the back of her neck, feeling the chrome indents of her Mantis Blades cooling the skin. Half of the room is a lounge with black couches and slick pink metallic chairs, terrariums built into the walls. The other half is, gold stools and booths before the neon pink bar. Each side is filled with people mingling, dressed in high fashion, people who’ve gambled away more money than she’s ever seen. 

“And when I say heads're gonna roll, I don't mean it as a fucking turn of phrase,” a half drunk man slurs his speech at the golden bartender. The stench of whiskey clings heavy to his clothes. 

“Had enough guy, don’t you think? You’re making the other customers uncomfortable,” the bartender sends a pointed look towards V, a slight twang in his voice. She was looking for a breather, not conflict. 

“Good! 'Cause this affects them, too! It'll slap everyone in the face!” 

“What’s that?’ She entertains him, figuring it might get the guy gone sooner. 

“You wanna know what a bearer of bad news looks like? What's four hundred yards long, weighs a hundred thousand tons, and is nuclear powered…? The answer's docked in the bay! Hanako Arasaka decided -,” he hiccups, “decided to take a little vacation!

“Big deal.”

“Don't know how big just yet,” her sarcasm doesn’t penetrate the fog of whiskey, “And by the time we do, it'll.. it'll be too late. Screw this. I'm gonna get some sleep…”

With that the man stumbles away, taking the too strong smell of booze with him and the shining bartender turns to her. His shaved hair either red or pink, color distorted in the glowing light. 

“Evenin, what can I get you, baby?” 

Her nose wrinkles at the term of endearment, “little forward, don’t you think?” 

“Suckled it outta my ma's very breast,” he returns, “Fifty percent protein, the other half pure high octane CHOOH2.” 

He presses two gilded hands to the bar leaning forward as he regales his story and she can’t help but raise an eyebrow; he’s implying he’s a nomad, but why would he tell her that? 

“What?” 

“She had wind and dust in her hair, so to speak. Belonged to the Aldecaldos. Before the bombs began fallin'. Her final words? ‘Wherever you go, whatever you do, be yourself, David.’ And so I ended up here. Still no one but myself.” 

He’s full of shit, she decides immediately. Maybe her own distrust or her own frustration, nobody with nomad blood would end up here, gold plated and slinging drinks to corpos. At the very fucking least, they wouldn’t act so damn happy about it. 

“Lovely story if it wasn’t a crock of shit.” 

“Everyone's making something up,” he smirks, “Just like you, baby.”

“Excuse you?” she chokes out, feeling like ice water has been shot through her veins. He’s seen through her, that implication clear, but how? Even regaling to her some fucked up story of being a nomad, like he could smell the dust of the badlands still on her skin. 

“Can I getcha somethin'? At the least, water?” 

“Bourbon and cherry coke.” 

“You got it, baby.” 

The repeated use of the pet name earns him a glare, V tapping her fingers against the bar, his story and perceptiveness making her nerves worse. He sets the drink on the table and she downs it with a gulp, alcohol not quite loosening her how she hopes. She sets the glass down and leaves the bar, it may be petty but she doesn’t leave him a tip, frustrated at the idea he could have seen through her. 

She jabs the elevator button, tapping her foot as she waits and stares at some painting. Its all abstract bullshit, pretty colors, but she’s not sure she sees much else to them. The golden doors open, the back of the elevator windowed with what looks like foliage inside, maybe it’s just a screen. V steps inside and jabs to her level. And after just a short ride, it stops  at her floor. 

The doors open and she sees Jackie, looking over one of the art pieces, walking past a desk and concierge to greet him. 

“About time,” he says, when he spots her, the pair making a beeline to the suite. They walk past a couple speaking Russian, talking about testing on people, as they find the door. 

Jackie opens the door and she gets her first peek of it, stepping in. The furthest wall almost entirely windowed, looking out over the hills. Another expanse dedicated to a terrarium, a large plush bed, white sofas, and a table projecting hologram displays of fish. V tosses her suit jacket off onto the couch. 

“Pretty snazzy. Too bad we ain't stayin' the night. Nice choice, Bug.” 

“Didn't pick it for snazz. Offers quickest access to the dweller and servers.”

“Sí, sí, me acuerdo,” jackie grumbles as he puts the Flathead case down on a table in front of the terrarium. The little spider bot springs to life the second it’s case is opened. 

“Now you fire up the Flathead and find the shaft entrance.” 

“Sounds simple enough…” 

“Simplicity's sometimes toughest to master,” T-Bug tells her. 

“Aurelius? Aristotle? Who's it this time?”

“Yours truly, that one's mine.”

“Go ahead and find the shaft, chica, I’ll get the Flathead running.” 

V nods and begins looking around the room, scanning around, finding the shaft after a short moment. A little square panel standing out on the wall next to the terrarium, scanner telling her it’s Flathead compatible. 

“Found it.” 

“Good. Jackie, how's the Flathead lookin'?” T-Bug asks, he’s put the control shard in one of his neuroports while V was looking for the shaft, eyes now glowing bright white blue. 

“All set. Systems’re operational, charge at a hundred…,” a moment passes his expression furrowing as he shakes his head, “Mierda.  Little gonk's stuck.”

“Just gonna stand there and look at it? Gonna have to switch to manual control. V, take the control shard from Jackie. Gonna link your Kiroshis to surveillance so you can guide the bot.”

“Why me, Jack’s got full blown optics?”  She asks, as he pulls the control shard from his head. 

“Yeah, but you got better tech, unlike someone I ain’t run up my tab with Vik. Got last-gen firmware low flow. May be contacts, but you’re working with top notch Kiroshi tech.” 

“Plus someone already has some playtime with the bot,” T-Bug outs her and Jackie raises an eyebrow at V, a teasing smile on his lips. 

“You played with the bot?”

“Just… give me the shard,” she takes it from Jackie’s hand, “Surveillance cover the whole hotel?”

“Mhm. Even the bedrooms in the suites.”

“Seriously?” 

“You'd be surprised what people're willin' to give up to feel secure. Lucky for us, Yorinobu's an exception. Penthouse is dark, no hotel security.’

“Okay, here goes.” V pushes the control shard into the slot, the interface says it’s connecting her, then it glitches and in a moment she’s looking at herself and Jackie through the surveillance camera. 

“Patching you through to in-cam view. Might get a little disoriented, but don't freak”

Her vision switches between rooms; a man getting a lap dance from a doll in a dimly room, two men in another hotel room. And then it lands on a third room. A meeting of four people; two Arasaka suits and two faces she vaguely recognizes. The view doesn't shift again and she takes the chance to look closer, talks of losing control of Watson, election season. And it clicks, the mayor of Night City. 

“Camera’s set,” V tells Bug, political bullshit isn’t her business, she can see the vague outline of the Flathead creeping into the room.  Only slightly visible to her thanks to her connection, 

“Get him to the next vent.”

V scans and finds the next vent shaft tucked in the corner of the room, sending the Flathead to it. She watches as it crawls and creeps through the room. 

“C’mon little buddy, you got it, yes,” She cheers on the little machine as it skitters across the camera and into the vent. 

“It’s a Military grade combat bot, not your pet, V. Patching you into the next cam now.” 

The next room appears, more brightly lit with two maids working to clean it. V goes to send the Flathead into the vent but the request is denied, detecting one of the cleaning ladies is too far into it’s path. 

“Cleaning crew’s in the way,” V tells Bug, listening to one of the women start drooling over Yorinobu. 

“Gotta distract her. Hmm, let's see what's on the subnet…temp control on the terrarium, sic the bot on it.” 

V follows the runner’s orders scanning and sending the Flathead onto the temp control. Barely a moment passes before the maid’s notice, freaking out about how expensive it is. The merc takes her chance and sends the bot into the unblocked vent shaft. 

“Little guy’s through.”

Next cam flickers into a green tinted maintenance hallway, the bots legs tinkering across the floor. Vent on the other side of the room, V sends it through, smiling as her little buddy makes his way through. And it brings her to a new camera, it looks like where the surveillance feeds lead to. A console and row of screens with a security guard watching them. 

“Dweller's just beyond the door. Flathead can jimmy the lock.”

V sends the command, watching it scamper to the door, tendrils working at the lock. But nothing gives away. 

“He’s having some trouble, poor feller.” 

“Shit… Gotta be another way. Lemme think… Got another cam other side of the door, but it's disabled.’

“Got a CCTV port, might be able to enable it.” 

“Go for it.” 

The Flathead creeps across the room and jacks into the port, giving V access to the other camera. And V switches her vision to it, the next room looks like a high tech runner’s nest. Two netrunning chairs in deep cooled divots within the room. But only one is in use, a man jacked into the security frame, illuminated in blue, screens running code around him. 

“Dweller’s inside.”

“Just as planned.”

“Still don’t get why they only have the one.” 

“Decent dweller's as good as a dozen rank-and-file. Lemme graft a demonoid onto your link, you’ll be able to jack the bot directly into the chair and neutralize the runner.” 

“Got’cha” 

“You'll have to get the Flathead in there first, though.” 

“Got another shaft grate,” V finds when she twists the camera’s view, there had to be a vent in the other room, servers lining the walls. Bad ventilation and the entire operation overheats. 

“Shaft may link both rooms, looks like. Toggle to the other cam.” 

V does so, a moment of scanning and she finds a hidden shaft grate in the floor, “Think I got it.”

“Send the Flathead over there, then toggle over to the second cam.”

She waits until the bot is prying open the vent in the surveillance room, then flickers back over to the runner’s den, eyes on the vent and hoping she didn’t send their tech into the wrong room. A moment passes and she sees her robotic friend creeping his way out. 

“Our friend’s inside.” 

“Flathead into the chair, V, jack in.” 

The bot crawls across the floor and into the netrunner’s cubby, creeping up the chair and scuttling over the man’s body. Deep in the subnet the man doesn’t stir or even notice as the bot hovers over his face and jacks into the chair. And the code across the screen glitches, replaced by a T. 

“Holy shit.” 

“Whoop! Got him! Love those daemons!” Bug cheers, louder and more excited than V has ever heard her. They did it, the bot is in, T-Bug has access to it all. 

“Uh, Flathead buddy stays, right?” 

“To keep an eye on the dweller, yeah. Punching into Konpeki’s main net. Go ahead and log out.” 

The young merc’s vision starts to glitch and flicker red, her pulling the shard from her head, everything spinning. Lightheaded and her body feels both too light and too heavy. Like she could collapse and float away all at once. 

“That's how it's done! How ya feelin'?” Jackie asks, concern lacing his voice. 

“Like I’m about to puke on a rug worth more than my car.” 

“Bug? How're you doin' on time?” The runner doesn’t respond right away, a moment too long passing. 

“Bug?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Soooo listen, ICE is thicker than I thought. Piercing it'll take a couple hours.” 

“A couple hours?! Can't do it any faster?”

“Want my brain to burst into flames? Just siddown and enjoy your snazzy suite.”

“Thanks, I will! V, you take it easy, c’mon rest for a bit.” 

V doesn’t need anymore prodding, settling down onto the white sofa, hoping her head will stop spinning and stomach cease churning by the time Bug is done. The merc kicks off her heels and lays across the sofa, softer than her bed. Jackie sitting across on the other side of the table, V brings her hand up to her face, trying to block out the blue light from the holo projector. But catches herself looking at the bracelet Misty gave her, the way the beads catch the light, remembering the name of it. 

“Hey, what was our suite’s name again?” 

“Lapis lazuli, why?” 

“Isn’t that what Misty’s bracelets are? The blue beads with the gold.” 

“Oh...yeah, ain’t that some shit, must be a good sign.” 

“Maybe… she read your cards before this?” 

“Nah, didn’t get a chance, nagged me about mean reds though. What about you, cards in your favor?” 

“All I remember is something about a magician and love, blegh.” 

“Hehehe,” his laughter is warm and fills the huge room, “telling you, one day you’re gonna be head over heels with some chiccy or mano and you’re not gonna know what to do with yourself.” 

“That how it was with you and Misty?” 

“Pssh, knew I was crazy about her from day one, took a while to work up the nerve though one day I just told her the truth.” 

“That you were in loooove~.”

“More like I’d take a bullet for her, chica.”

“Romantic.” 

“Fuck yeah it is, in Night City, that’s worth a billion I love yous.” 

“So you say.” 

“Keep doing that and you’re gonna rub the finish off Vik’s work,” Jackie tells her and she realizes she’s been rubbing and fiddling with her implants, “be a waste for free work to be ruined.” 

“I’m gonna pay him.” 

“You give him anything upfront, even a dime?” 

“I… gave him a hug…” 

“Wow,” Jackie says half laughing and she’s laughing too, “a whole hug for top of the line chrome! Probably wasn’t even a real hug, just your half ass shit!” 

“I may have only used one arm.” 

“Santa mierda, V, gotta learn to hug people like you mean it.” 

“Yes, yes,” she yawns, “blah blah blah, never know which hug will be the last one, blah….” 

“Flathead wear you out that bad?” 

“Maybe a little…” Her stomach feels better, but her head is still light, fuzzy. And in the plush of the sofa, with Jackie close by, she finds herself drifting away. Eyelids getting heavier with each word, each lull of his voice. She didn’t drink much, but she’s sure the bourbon didn’t help. 

“Gonna be a while, might as well catch a cat nap, chica. Though Bug might not like it, haven’t quite managed to get the stick out of her ass.”  

“Yeah..maybe…” 

The world fades away, a soft fuzzy sleep taking over. Time ticks by around her as she catches a moment, or maybe several, to sleep. Her brain is still a little foggy, but the dizziness is gone by the time she slowly starts to wake back up. A bad case of cottonmouth as she wakes, world filtering back in. 

Her suit jacket is tossed over her, a makeshift blanket she didn’t put there, she rolls over to sit, more stable than she was before. The time on the terrarium panel tells her only an hour or two has passed.  Jackie’s back is too her, his eyes staring at the window. And she finds herself staring, standing in a suit and basked in the lights of the city view, he’s never seemed so serious. 

“Whaddaya think? Why'd he give it all up?” He asks after a moment and she blinks, brain still foggy. 

“Who?” 

"Yorinobu Arasaka. The good life, I mean. Old news, I know. Just got to thinkin's all. It's like, think… You got everything, right? Eddies, education. Your pops can snap his fingers and turn half the fuckin’ planet into a nuclear wasteland… But instead you're like, ‘Nah, fuck it,’ and whaddaya go do? Start a fuckin' gang! Steel Dragons or some shit! You ghost from your fam, chip some RealSkinn and play gang leader for a few years. For what?!” 

She can sense the frustration in every word, feel it every clench of his fingers or swing of his hands. Someone like Yorinobu was handed everything he could ever want; tried to piss it away to play edgerunner, then found himself sucking the silver spoon once again.  But, she can’t blame him for wanting out from under his father’s thumb; that alone a feeling she knows too well. Her fingers hover over her wrist, the still branded flesh that Vik saved. 

“Maybe...he just wanted out of the system.” 

“So then why’d he come back.” 

“Tough to ditch the system when the system’s your own family,” V admits, finger still on the mark. 

“Black sheep’s still a sheep, eh?” 

“Maybe…” 

It took her forever to get the nerve to leave, she talked about it constantly, but it wasn’t until her mother’s death, murder, culling. Whatever she’s meant to call it, that she finally was pushed to make that move. Been gone for years now, but… more days than she cares to admit were spent wondering if she ever should have run, if she should crawl back and beg. If a family that hates her is better than no family at all… 

“Crawled back on all fours, tail between his legs, fuckin’ cheap ass rebel. Fuckin’ tourist!” 

Her nails dig into her skin; insecurities brimming, fear that maybe she’s just as much a fuckin’ tourist. Some black sheep nomad who’ll go running back to her dad, beg for another chance, playing pretend merc when all she’ll ever be is the family burden. 

“Tourist or not, he just walked into the lobby. And we are back in biz. Penthouse security is neutralized.”

“Perfecto, let’s start this show.”

And with those words, they’re back in business, the younger merc up on her feet. V grabbing her jacket and following Jackie out of the suite, fiddling with the fabric as she walks, heels clicking across the floor. 

“Hey, Bug…” Jackie says after a beat of silence,  “were, uh… were you on comms that whole time?”

“Three and a half hours.”

“Eehh… about that stick up the ass…”

“Mean the one up mine?”

“Ehh, slip of the tongue, y'know…”

“I know. Now's your chance to make up to me,” T-Bug tells him as they reach the elevator, Jackie pressing the button. 

“This is going pretty smooth right,” he turns to V as they wait, “right?” 

“Really are a silver lining type, ain’t ya?” V teases as the doors open and they step into the elevator. 

“Hey, when are you gonna wave off that dark cloud hanging over your head? Tellin’ you, it’s downhill from on in.” 

She rolls her eyes and hits the button to the penthouse, elevator doors closing and the carriage rumbling, shaking as it ascends. Silence falling over them, only the sound of the elevator. Jackie’s leg shakes and she knows that silence is about to end. 

“Ahh, there's the awkward silence. You, uh, wanna hear a joke?”

“Now? Seriously?”

“OK, so why'd the rockerboy's output kick him out of the apartment? ‘Cause he wasn't chippin' in.” Jackie cackles at his own joke and V rolls her eyes, a slight smile on her lips. 

“Jesus Christ…” 

Bug sounds a moment away from killing him, but thankfully for the older merc’s sake, the elevator comes to a stop. Doors opening up to Yorinobu’s suite. It feel different, seeing it from her own perspective instead of Evelyn’s and outside of a braindance editor. The entire suit feels bigger. A part of her wonders if it’s the height difference between herself and Evelyn, but decides to chalk it up to braindance shit instead. 

“Huh… not bad bein' heir to the Arasaka empire. Sure as shit better'n bein' the son of Raúl Welles,” Jackie comments taking in the room. 

V turns the corner through the room and a tank catches her eye. A slightly red light illuminating an iguana. It immediately reminds her of the only other iguana she knows, Manny. Come to think of it, his original crate was from Arasaka? 

“Hey, Jackie, look!” 

“Whoa, another fuckin’ iguana, not as cute as Manny though.” 

“Manny’s original crate was marked Arasaka; think he might’ve been Yorinobu’s before we klepped him?” 

“Think we stole his iguana and made him get a new one?” 

“Maybe?”  She gently taps the tank glass, watching the iguana’s tail flick back and forth. 

“Guys! Focus! The safe! And make it quick!” Bug yells out, bringing the merc’s back down to earth. V tosses her jacket onto one of the seats in the center, searching around the penthouse. Rain patters outside the windowed walls. They know where the safe is, but how do they get it out of the floor?

“Why, what's the rush?”

“Sig on Yorinobu's gone dark!”

“What is he, a fuckin' sorcerer?”

“Some kinda dead zone's my guess - have him back in a sec. And you do your damn job! Look around for a switch.”

V walks around one of the dividers where Yorinobu’s bed is, the slick metal of a gun catching her eye first and foremost. Black and gray, with purple detailing. She checks it for ammo and finds it loaded then decides it’s hers. 

“Looks like Yori left us a little gift,” she laughs, tucking the iron in her waistband. And on the other side of the bed, she finds a little switch. She presses it. 

“Bingo, got somethin' ejectin’! C'mere, V!” Jackie calls her over to the corner of the room, heart pounding in her chest.

They’re so close to the finish line, each click of her heels feeling like a step closer. This could actually work. A large black safe has risen out of the floor, a small jack in port and two red lights. Jackie stands on one side of it, the gray rainy day behind him. 

“What now, Bug?” 

“Jack in your personal and make us rich.” 

V plugs her personal link in, leaning one hand against the safe. Jackie leans against it from the other side, foreheads nearly touch as they wait for Bug to work her magic. Just get the chip and walk out, that’s all that’s left. All they need to do. She can’t stand still, itching to cross the finish line, minutes away from the major leagues. 

“Gimme two…”

The merc’s interface shows Bug uploading the daemons to crack the case and V watches the number rise. Sixty percent, seventy, seventy-five; each ticking number another shaky breath, a rising beat of her heart, and a chill up her spine. Homestretch, nearly there. 

And there’s a hum, V’s focus drawn away from the rising percentage, to the windows. Flying AV whirring through the gray skies, hovering around. She looks to Jackie, hoping somehow he’ll have an explanation, something to help her ignore the way her stomach is starting to drop. 

“We got winged visitors… Bug…?” There’s catch in his voice, nerves. Jackie’s scared and she swallows the lump in her throat. His face illuminated in the red flashing lights of the case, mean reds, the words flash in V’s mind. 

“Dunno who. But staffs abuzz, all two hundred on their feet, can't keep still…” 

Somethings wrong, the hair on the back of her neck stands up, a chill in her she can’t shake. Something is so fucking wrong. 

“Can't say I like this, how much longer, T?!”

“Shit. Yorinobu's penthouse bound!”

“What!?”V’s voice cracks, digging her nails into the safe, they’re fucked. They’re so fucked. 

“Fuck him!” Jackie slams his hand down, rattling the container, “Open the safe!” 

“Almost got it… Done!”  The safe opens, revealing a cryo-container within. Bright white light and a fog of ice cold air coming with it. V rips her personal jack out. 

“Preem, lets get the fuck out of here!”  

“Lemme look to this, eh?” Jackie says, pulling the container out and looking at the little screens across it. 

“Relic intact?” 

"Bioshard integrity - one hundred percent." Guessin' that's a yes,” Jackie reads off the vitals of the shard, picking up the case. 

“Good,  let’s delta.” 

The pair nearly trip through the center of the penthouse, rushing towards the elevator with Jackie lugging behind the giant cryo-container. So close, so close, so fucking close. An elevator and taxi ride away, then they’ll be at The Afterlife counting their eddies. The homestretch. 

“Fuck, too late!” T-Bug yells before V can hit the elevator button, “Yorinobu's about to walk in - find cover!

“Where in the fuck!?” V swings her hands as she yells, they’re so fucking close. She rakes her nails across her face, leaving red angry marks down her skin. 

“That pillar- try that!” 

“You fuckin' kiddin'?!” Jackie screams as the mercs make a move to the pillar in the center of the penthouse, were she thought servers for the room were kept. The back of it opening up and allowing a tight passageway. 

“No! Inside it! Now!” 

V slips inside as quickly as she can, Jackie following suit. He holds the cry-container close to his chest. The glass barrier is one way, they can see out, but it can’t be seen in. Still not ideal cover, ideally they’d be outside of the fucking hotel by now. The merc presses her hands to the glass, cursing under her breath. 

“We’re in,” she whispers to Bug.

“Which don't solve our problem, T.”

“I fuckin' know our problem's still there! Lemme think for a sec, okay?” 

The lights to the penthouse come on, elevator doors opening as Yorinobu strides in. with mechanical monstrosity of a body guard from the BD taking large whirring steps after him. And he seems even bigger now. He’s a cyber giant, one mech hand larger than  any part of V. 

He’s outlined in red, his eyes staring straight at her,  Vik said her new contacts would highlight if enemies saw her.. No, there’s no possible way. The man has barely set a borged-out foot into the room. She meets his gaze head on, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tries to seem braver than she is. On the off chance he may truly know the mercs are there. 

“Is that… Is that Adam Smasher?” Jackie whispers and V trusts him to look at her hands  as she signs, not wanting to break eye contact with the robotic monstrosity, refusing to show weakness.

“Bodyguard?” 

“Worse,” her trust in her friend is well placed, “Night City legend. Bleak motherfuckin' one, too. What's the plan?”

“We stay quiet and we wait.” 

A flash of movement makes V finally break the stare down, Yorinobu walks to the middle of the room and stops at the seat across from the table, black fabric strewn across it. He picks it up, regarding it for a moment and her heart drops into her stomach. 

V’s jacket. She left her fucking jacket on his chair, like an idiot, she didn’t even have time to consider grabbing it. They’re going to die because she left her fucking jacket out in the open and Adam Smasher is still staring at her. 

She half expects Yorinobu to call a sweep of the room, ring security, that he’ll realize the random jacket must be an intruder. But he shakes his head, tosses it aside onto the floor, not giving it another thought. While his body guard Smasher lingers in the corner, robotic eyes staring straight at V, watching the mercs squirm. 

“Are they here yet?” Yorinobu asks out loud. 

“They approach from the landing pad,” an AI voice responds. 

“Fuck are they talking about?” V resists the urge to elbow Jackie, silence has never been more important. One sound too loud and a borged out psycho will rip their heads off. And if her contacts are right, Smasher may just be waiting for the perfect opportunity. 

“Nuh-uh, no fucking way…. This isn't happening…!” T-Bug whispers over comms and V sees someone coming down the spiraling stairs, a guard it seems, with another older man following him, “Saburo Arasaka.” 

The second man is older, much older than the first. Balding with gray hairs and liver spots across his scalp, glasses perched high upon his nose. Dressed in a mixture of yukata robes over what seems to be slacks and loafers he takes slow measured steps down the stairs. The head capitalist himself, owner of Arasaka. 

“The emperor? Yet another asslickin' legend….” 

V taps Jackie’s side and puts her finger to her lips, encouraging him to be quiet. The man who led Saburo in starts to walk around the room. He’s older than V or Jackie, but nowhere near Saburo’s age. Long graying dark hair pulled back in a bun, cyberware across his neck coming out from under his black suit. 

“I thought I told you not to meddle in my affairs,” Yorinobu speaks in his native tongue, V’s contacts translating and subtitling to English. 

“Oh fuck,” Jackie curses as the long haired guard comes to stand in front of them, silver ringed brown eyes starting to scan them. 

“Leave us,” Saburo orders and the guard stops scanning, turning to face the corporate leader. 

“Arasaka-sama, I still haven't done a full sweep.” The guard turns his back and V can see where part of his hair is shaved, allowing intense cyberware extending beyond his neck and towards his scalp. 

“This is my son.”

“Of course. Should I retrieve what we come here to-” 

“I will handle it. You may go.”

The long haired guard bows and goes to leave the room, finally Adam Smasher’s gaze on her drops, as the borged freak leaves with the guard through the elevator doors. If they’re here to retrieve something… it’s likely the biochip, which means if they go to get it and see it’s gone… They’re fucked. They’re straight fucked. 

“Un-fucking-believable… Saburo Arasaka.” That comment makes V nudge Jackie with her foot, once again begging him to just stay quiet. 

“Did you think I wouldn't know it was taken from me?” Saburo asks his son, barely making eye contact as Yorinobu looks through a datapad. 

“Actually, I don't think of you at all. Ever. You see, that's your problem. You think the world revolves around you. Arrogant.” 

“Yorinobu.” 

“Why did you come? To humiliate me? To personally see to it that your son knows his place?”

“"The nail that protrudes from the wall gets hammered…"

“Couldn't think of anything original to say?” Yorinobu yells in exasperation, standing up and pacing around the room.  He’s on edge, looking ready to jump out of his skin and V can’t say she has a good feeling about any of this. 

“And do you think it ‘original’ to sell our greatest achievement to Westerners - our future to these… barbarians?!”

It’s definitely the biochip Saburo is after, they’re screwed, monumentally screwed. V would laugh if she didn’t feel like dying, of course, of course it all goes to shit. 

“Our future? Ours?! You are mistaken. You've only ever cared about yourself… and your sick schemes.” Yorinobu points and swings his limbs, still pacing, every word coiled tight with barely restrained hatred. 

“I knew this day would come. That sooner or later your impudence would cross the line,” Saburo is calmer, measured, taking soft steps towards his son, “There is much for which I could forgive you, but for treason - no.” 

The two men, father and son now stand in front of the pillar before an audience they don’t know. Stares trained on each other, each hateful, but one furious in it’s spite and the other calm in it’s contempt. Moments pass, no word said, each waiting for the other to light a fuse that will set off the powder keg. 

“I'm just glad your mother didn't live to see this. The heart should break but once.” 

And it goes off. Saburo’s words are punctuated by Yorinobu’s hands wrapping tightly around the old man’s throat. Yorinobu slams his father back against the pillar, cracking the glass in front of Jackie and busting open Saburo’s head. Blood streaking the shards. And he pulls away and for a moment, as Saburo clutches at his crushed windpipe, Yorinobu seems nearly regretful. 

“You shall never have to forgive me for anything again.” 

His hands wrap again, choking his father against the pillar. Until Saburo starts to fall limp, Yorinobu bringing him down onto the floor in a lifeless heap. Yorinobu stands over his father. Saburo is dead, killed before the merc’s very eyes at the hands of his own son. Jackie curses and V watches as Yorinobu paces, mind clearly racing before he stands over his father’s corpse again. 

“I wish… I wish to put the hotel on lockdown.” 

What does that mean? What the hell does that mean?

“May I ask why?” The AI secretary asks him. 

“Saburo Arasaka has been murdered.”

“Code red initiated. Attention! Code Red has been initiated throughout Konpeki Plaza. Please remain in your rooms and follow all instructions given by staff.”

Oh no, oh fuck no. The lights in the room drop, only bright neon red ones glowing angry in the dark. What the hell is going to happen? What the fuck do they do now? The elevator doors open, Smasher and the long haired guard walking in; the latter rushes and comes to a full stop when he sees Saburo’s corpse. 

“What happened?”

“Someone… someone poisoned my father.”

“Poisoned…?” 

“Seems so.” 

“Yorinobu-san… I doubt…”

Yorinobu glowers at the guard, pushing into his personal space, trying to intimdate him. Trying to make him stop questioning what happened, trying to stop him from looking any closer. Anyone who gets a good look at Saburo’s corpse will see the fingerprints around his neck. 

“What is your job, Takemura?”

“I don't follow.”

“It's a simple question. Answer it.”

“To protect the head of the Arasaka family.”

“I do sincerely hope you'll do a better job of executing your duties from now on…”

“Forgive me, Arasaka-sama,” the guard drops his head in shame, “I shall not disappoint.” 

Yorinobu turns to leave the suite. The guard, Takemura, follows close behind. And the still red highlighted Smasher follows behind him. The elevator doors close behind them. Jackie and V left alone in the suite again. But what the fuck just happened? 

“What the fuck just happened in there?” T-Bug asks, exactly what’s rattling around V’s skull as the pillar back opens again. Jackie and V clambering out. 

“Yorinobu just killed Saburo, he fucking choked out his own dad, I didn’t even know you could do that!” V rambles and yells as she turns the corner of the pillar, looking down at Saburo’s corpse. She quickly checks his pockets, stealing some cash and a pair of dog tags off of him. 

“What?” 

“His own fuckin’ pops.” 

“Know what this means?l Security's gonna swarm the place any second. Oh my god, we're so fucked!”

“We need to get the fuck out of here, now!” They can’t just go out the elevator, they’d meet security on the way. They’re beyond fucked. Why the hell did they take this stupid fucking job!?

“Gimme a sec!”

There’s the helipad, but it’s not like they have anything that fucking flies. Think, think, think; she screams in her head to just fucking think, there has to be something, anything. 

“We don't have a sec!”

“Okay, got somethin'! Window - now! Releasing the lock! Should see a ladder… Ladder…” 

V sees an opening in the large windowed walls, double doors practically made of glass they goes onto the ledge. This has to be in, T-Bug can undo the lock and they’ll slip out. 

“Oh fuck.” T-Bugs voice drops and a chill shoots up V’s back, something is wrong. 

“Bug!?” 

“No, no, no, no - not now…! I’ve been made… “ 

And panic turns to agony as T-Bug screams, a shrill cry of pain then she’s gone. Connectuon cut and V freezes in place. 

Bug is gone, just gone… 

Maybe, Konpeki just cut their comms? But the scream rings through V’s mind. She’s heard of how runner’s can die, daemons and quick hacks. Having their entire brain fried, every nerve and neuron set on fire, burned from the inside out... And all that's left to find is a simmering corpse stewing in their own filth. Bug was never meant for that, meant to retire, meant to find peace after years of netrunning. But now… 

“Bug.!? Bug!? Can you fuckin’ hear me, Bug please, are you there!?” V calls out, words slurring together. She just needs to hear Bug one more time, and know everything is okay. 

And nothing. 

“¡Pinche Dios Santo bendito! We lost her, V!” 

“They...scorched her...didn’t they…?” 

“We… we gotta go, V,” Jackie says, voice cracking as he smacks at V’s shoulder. 

Bug’s final hack going through, the window unlocked. V steps out through the window onto the ledge, rain pelting her skin as she rushes around the corner. Bug said there’s a ladder they can use, last thing Bug ever said… There’s no time for mourning, no time to cry, they need to get through this. The ledge narrows around the corner, ride lights outside the hotel window guiding the way, secured against the steel of the hotel. V sees the yellow safety ladder. The merc presses her back to the building, gently side stepping across the narrow ledge, if they just reach the ladder. One wrong step and they’ll plummet. 

“You can do it, Jackie… just don't look down,” jackie tries to talk himself up, following V, “ Yep, that's fuckin' high…!”

There’s a whir of engines, an aircraft vehicle buzzing around the outside of the hotel.

“Shit! That Trauma?” Jackie asks and that’s exactly what they need right now, doctors shooting them. 

“If they’re here for Saburo, they’re a little late.” 

“Just hope they didn't see us! ¡Chingada madre!”

The aircraft carrier flies in close, flashing blinding white light onto the mercs. It sees them, definitely sees them. 

“Suspects in violation of security protocols.” The mechanical voice croaks out. 

“Time to bail!’ Jackie screams and the aircraft starts to fire, drone automated shooting at them. 

The glass around them bursts and V jumps, grabbing Jackie’s hand in her left, she swings her right blade out towards the ladder. It hooks in the bottom rung, creaking in distress as it stops their fall. And there the mercs hang, suspended by a single Mantis Blade and a ladder rung; rain pouring down upon them and a drone still searching for them through the debris. The strain pulls at V’s arm, pain shooting throughout, shoulders ache and left arm pulled tight trying to hold Jackie and the case he holds in his other hand. 

If she could pull them up with the blade, maybe they can get to safety. But her muscles already strain, wrought tight with the strength it takes to hold them up. The blade pulling at the inner tissue it’s attached too, never meant to support more weight than the person it’s attached to. Rain and tears sting her eyes as she forces herself to pull with the blade, use it to lift them up. 

“V! I can’t hold on!’ Jackie yells out, rain slick hand starting to slip from her own. She digs her nails into his skin, holding him tighter. 

“Just a bit more, I can do this!” 

Her throat is raw and she doesn’t know how much she believes her own words. Nerves scream in pain as her cyberware pulls at what’s left of her flesh. Muscles cry as forced beyond their capability. She curses beneath her breath, pulling them just a little further up. Immeasurable pain and brute force of will only amounting to the tiniest bit of progress, not even an inch closer to safety. Her blade is pulling further out from her skin, raising up from her arm in a way she knows it shouldn’t. 

Every nerve in her arms on fire; blade tugging at flesh and the other nearly pulled from socket under Jackie’s weight. Barely an inch closer to the safety, Jackie slipping from her grip quicker than she can pull, blade lifting from her arm quicker than she can move them. Her teeth sinks into the inside of her cheek, hard enough to bleed as she pushes herself further. Closer, closer, she urges herself. 

A bright white light shines across them, illuminating them in the gray night, adding another ache to her eyes. Drone marked Arasaka buzzing around, refinding them within the debris of the destroyed hotel wall. The robotic voice speaking again. 

“Violators found.” 

And her blade breaks, V’s eye blown wide as they begin to plummet, shock blurs her pain and deafens the world.  Slowing it for a moment, only able to stare as metal snaps, tissue tears, and her arm is ripped open. Cyberware tearing out tissue and nerves, viscera left behind. 

Then she hits glass, shattering it as gravity slams her through and shock becomes hurt. She hits metal, body bouncing from impact, crying as the air is knocked from her lungs. Her head bashing against something. V clutches her arm, the pain it hitting her as everything else does, blood sticking to her fingers. Each breath hurts, a labored wheeze as bruised lungs strain to work. 

V blinks, sitting up slightly, regaining her sense of self now that her fall is broken. Across from her is Jackie and the cryo-case. She looks at her arm, A solid rip from wrist to near elbow, nearly an open hole, metal and moving inner parts of the cyberware mixed with gore. It doesn’t bleed as much as she'd expect, the internal mechanics helping block major bleed out. It hurts, metal now working against raw nerves. But, she’ll live… if this is the worst that happens, she’ll live.

The cryo-case is dented, part of it sparking and part of it splatted with blood. But her eye is drawn to Jackie. A tear in his gut, shrapnel and glass caught him well, bleeding more than her. The white of the button up around his stomach turned scarlet. 

“The Relic! ¡Madres! Agh… Oh, this ain't good. Agh…” Jackie curses, each breath pained. 

“Jackie, you’re hurt!” 

“Worry about me later,” he growls, “check the relic… "Container depressurized. Biochip integrity at ninety-four percent." And fuckin' droppin'! Carajo! Parker! Call her!”

“And tell her what!? We fucked up!?” 

“Just do it!”

Evelyn answers after a short ring, her avatar coming across V’s contacts. 

“V?! Konpeki's all over the feeds! What the fuck's going on there?”

“Got a problem! Cryo-case is damaged. Biochip's integrity at… Jackie?”

“Eighty-six percent!”

“Eighty-six percent and droppin'!”

“Shit…! OK, listen to me. There's only one thing you can do. One of you's gotta slot the Relic into your neural port!”

“That sounds really dangerous!” 

God only knows how this biochip could fuck them up, the relic itself is like putting another personality in your head, seeing ghosts. If this one is even half as fucked up as that, they could be putting themselves in serious danger. 

“The longer you wait, the greater the risk we lose it!” 

“Well, someone’s got to do it,” Jackie says, voice a rasp, face steadily draining color as he opens the case, “In the name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit - Amen.”

Jackie crosses his body with the pray and pushes the chip into his neural port and V watches his eyes light up for a moment. And he’s quiet for another, a second too long.

“You okay?” 

“Dunno… I guess… Don't feel any different.”

“Once you're back, we'll take out the Relic and run a full brain scan and sweep. But you two need to get the fuck out of there first!”

“We’re working on it!” 

Jackie and V get back on their feet. He holds his hand to his stomach, trying to press his guts together and she keeps her arm held close to her chest, not putting pressure on it. Jackie calls Delamain. 

“Del, we'll be there in a couple. Be ready, got it?”

“Certainly, Mr. Welles.”

“Better be fuckin' certain.”

“We gotta somehow… reach the lobby. Only chance to hit the garage. And we'd best be quick,” Jackie jabs himself with an air hypo, “ Oh-ho, that's the shit… Great… Now let's get outta here.”

“Wait, take your jacket off, use it to keep pressure on your gut, okay? Should help with the bleeding.” 

It’s minimal first aid knowledge, she knows. Hold something to a wound to keep it from bleeding out as quickly. But it’s all she can offer, helping Jackie get the jacket off with one hand, so he can press it to his stomach wound. She can move her right hand somewhat, but it hurts and she swears she can see the tendons moving around the metal in the gaping wound her forearm has become. She catches herself wondering if she’ll be able to sign with her right hand again. But, there’s no time for those fears. 

She walks down the red lit metal grate, heels nearly catching in it as she turns to a doorway. V leads the way, less injured than Jackie, she pushes the door open. A door lobby with glass banisters and plants, the only light the bright red ones. 

“Great… Now let's get outta here,” Jackie says, each word a stressful choking sound to get out. 

An AI voice speaks repeatedly over the speakers that Konpeki plaza is in code red, as the mercs work to move quickly and quietly. Catching the murmuring of two guards as they reach a marble staircase, speaking of sweeping the floors and checking the lobby. They creep around the corner and past a desk, seeing the back of the men’s through the glass banister. The only sound the pounding of V’s heart and Jackie’s labored breathing. They watch as the two men separate, enough space for each to grab one. 

They move down the last stretch of the stairs, guards talking about evacuating Yorinobu. She lets Jackie take the one closest to them as she moves further to the one at the doorway. V swings her left blade, now her only one, through the man’s gut. Her right arm shoots pain through each nerve, metal inside churching to dispense a blade that no longer exists. She holds back a sound, Jackie’s already choked out the other guard, checking for pockets. Each one armed with a silenced gun. She steals ammo off of them.

They come to another door, each catching their breath. Sweat clinging to V’s brow as they brace themselves for what’s to come next. 

“Careful… security likely to be swarmin' outside,” Jackie warns and V nods, words clumping together in her throat as she opens the door. 

They stay crouched, spotting more guards as they go. The pair hide behind a planter, V taking a scan of the area, spotting a security camera. Remembering Bug’s lessons, she’s quickly able to shut them off. She’s the one to step back out, leading the way for the first time in months of working together. V needs to get Jackie through this, he’s holding on now, but.. 

She grabs a guard from behind and snaps their neck, arm twinging in agony at the movement she throws their body aside, clearing a long stretch of hallway for Jackie to follow her down. All light bright red and screens that once showed commercials now flash the words, Code Red. She leaves Jackie to stay hidden behind a counter when she sees another by the doorway, jumping at his back and dropping him just like his coworker.  

“Ain't doin' too bad… Just a little further…” Jackie whispers as she drops another guy, her arm screaming at her to stop. But she’ll survive without an arm, if worse comes to worse, she can’t let Jackie get hurt any worse. 

They creep through a door, past a desk, hearing a guard yelling out as they sneak and weave through the room. She watches over the top of a planter as the guard walks past them, none the wiser as V creeps around, getting behind him, and taking him down. She can’t risk leaving any behind, leaving one alive and them finding the mercs later. The hotel is huge, a labyrinth of Arasaka guards. 

“Engaging hostiles!” A voice booms out, the mercs spotted by a heavily armed Arasaka guard who nearly trips over V.

Fuck, fuck, so much for stealth. Jackie shoots over a counter, trying to stay somewhat protected from the gunfire, while V takes lead, firing Yorinobu’s gun at the men, only dropping behind cover to reload, she blasts. Fuck it, stealth not an option, she’ll turn the whole damn hotel into a blood bath. 

The guards drop and V knows she’s been shot, but she’s standing so she moves onward. Through a doorway, three more men open fire as the mercs turn the corner. V blasts a bullet through ones head, Jackie blows the second full of holes. 

“One more fucker dead!” 

The third is further back behind a glass door and V charges forward, glass open as she fires at the man. Bullets ripping through his chest in a spray of blood before he collapses, red smeared across the marble. If she gets a chance to sleep tonight, she’ll be seeing red in her dreams. The vivid neon lights of the emergency lit hotel, the burgundy uniforms, and the steady spray of it from every shot fired. 

Jackie and V go running around a corner, through another glass doorway and slide into side of a marble planter. Taking a moment to breathe, she can hear guards talking. Orders from higher up, panicked yells from the less experienced. She can spot two around the corner, but can’t get a clear shot. She runs to the open doorway, catching one off guard as she slams into his view and rips a blade through his gut. 

A full armored worker fires off when he sees it, partially hidden by a linen rack. Another runs in, half hiding behind a planter, firing off around the corner. She presses against a wall between it and a partial doorway, reloading before she looks back through. The less armored man moves around a pillar, peeking from behind cover, and she shoots his head as soon as she sees it, watching him hit the marble. 

She struggles to get a clear shot of the third, still hidden behind the rack and so she runs forward, past the rack and coming to a sliding stop behind him. The guard fumbles to swing around when he realizes where she’s landed. Back turned to Jackie now, her friend fires a shot clean through the guard’s head. 

The room is cleared for a moment and the elevator is nearby, she runs past a desk, when she sees the button screen. A glowing red off symbol. 

“Fuck!” 

“Chingo tu madre! It's shut down! What about the other one?” Jackie yells between rattling breaths, she wanted this to be stealthy, didn’t want to put him anymore danger. 

She runs, heels clicking against blood streaked marble, nearly tripping over a corpse. Quickly trying to stop herself when another guard springs up behind a desk. Two more swarming the room, one in the heavy almost samurai-like Arasaka armor. 

“Orale! Got to plough through them!” 

She focuses on the Saka samurai, pulling the trigger again and again,  Thankful to have emptied the ammo off every body she’s dropped so far. A bullet catches his throat, a gush of blood as he paints the floor,  and she shifts to the other men. A headshot on one, the other already down thanks to Jackie. 

V searches their corpses, pocketing ammo and bounce backs, when she finds an access token on the samurai. V thanks any god that may be listening, if they exist and makes a beeline for the elevator at the end of the room. 

“Got access,” she breathes out, calling the elevator. 

Its doors open and she steps in, the side railing lit that bright red. She waits as Jackie rushes in, he’s still in somewhat decent shape it seems. Not the ideal heist, she thinks as she hits the button, but maybe they can get out of this. Rush Jackie to a ripper, check on T-Bug, collect their eddies, and tonight will be a story to tell later. Remember the Konpeki Heist, how everything that could go wrong did. 

“Hah-… agh! Heh, hng…” She can’t tell if he’s laughing or groaning in pain, maybe both. Blood is coating his hands, has he bled through the jacket? No, Jackie’s bulletproof, said it himself a billion times. He’ll be okay, he has to be. 

“Jackie…”

“Saburo Arasaka, Hundred and fifty years… and today… of all fuckin' days. That's like… some divine comedy shit… hehehehe… agh.”

And he’s laughing, of course he is, holding his guts together and he laughs, because why would Jackie Welles do anything else. She’s not sure if she’s going to cry or laugh along, if she’s charmed or infuriated by it; is he just still desperately searching for that silver lining or does he genuinely not give a fuck if he flatlines? That idea, the thought, makes her throat tighten. He can’t die, he won’t die, she won’t let him. 

“Save your strength, please, we’re not out of the woods yet.” 

“What do you think I’m doing!?” She doesn’t miss the frustration, because if he wasn’t so hurt, he’d been the one leading that battle, charging in to take brunt of it all, “Buuut… chill, V. We'll get out alive.” 

“I know we will,” she says and wants so desperately to believe.

The elevator reaches the lobby, doors open to more guards, more gunfire. She shoots at one that looks out behind a wall, three more in the main room of the lobby. Jackie slides behind a desk, using it for cover between shots. V takes lead, shooting from around a doorway. Its chaos and mayhem, V blasting the four men. One dropping behind a chair, catching one through the green ferns growing from a planter.  Three more Arasaka corpses, splattering blood across marble and the roots of those towering trees. Bullet after bullet, shot after shot, until her ears are ringing and three remain; the mercs and one last guard. 

He throws a grenade across the room at them, V shooting it in the air before it can hit them, smoke and fire smoldering across the ceiling. She uses the chance to close the gap and blows his brains out at close range.  

Room cleared they rush through the rest of the lobby, finally reaching the elevator that will take them to the garage. V slams the button, calling the elevator. The door opens and she runs inside, expecting Jackie to run in after her. His steps are slowing and he leans against the wall for a moment instead, having to catch a second wind. He’s getting worse, but they’re in the homestretch, they can do this. They can do this, he stumbles through, leaning against the elevator wall. 

“Argh… I'm leakin' a little…” His voice a rasp. 

The elevator stops at the garage, so close to safety. Doors opening she can already hear the guards and the mercs step out, eye on them, its a swarm of Arasaka. Gunfire rings out alongside the screech of brakes. The Delamain taxis coming to a stop in the center of the garage, it’s doors flinging open. 

“I advise that you waste no time in entering the vehicle,” Delamain chirps at them, like this is a normal night. 

But she needs no prodding. V grabs Jackie’s hand and runs for the taxi, dragging him through the garage to the open doors. Rather than making him walk around, she shoves Jackie through her side on the right, letting him slide into the left seat before she jumps in; he needs the extra second of protection more than her.  The doors shut, bulletproof shields raising as they the taxi is blasted by the guards. They’re safe? Right?

“Welcome back. With Delamain, you leave your problems at the door….”

“DRIVE NOW!” 

And Delamain does just that, engines firing up as he rams through the garage door like it’s nothing. She leans forward on the two front seats. As the taxi takes a sharp turn, they’re almost there, almost safe. Jackie wasn’t fucking around about the combat mode. 

“Not bad at all.” 

“Client feedback noted.”

“How’s the ride looking?” 

“Tiptop. Though alas, we are being pursued.”

And then she sees him, Adam Smasher, the borged monster of a former man rushes them. No hesitation, no fear, as he slams his entire body into the car. Shattering glass, gnashing metal, and nearly sending the car to the side; slamming V and Jackie to the right. 

“Sweet fuckin’ jesus!” 

Jackie curses as V screams, the hell kind of freak is this guy? The car goes back down on its wheels. Adam Smasher on a metal knee, slowing standing up on front of the car. 

“Combat mode activated. Please remain calm.”

“Calm!!!????” She yells out as Delamain begins to drive backwards. 

 “Road block ahead. I kindly request that you brace for impact.”

“¡Oy, mis huevos! Shiiiit!”

The cab takes a turn, rather than driving through Adam Smasher, it goes through another roadway. A row of cars blocking the way and Delamain slams through through without hesitation, taking them through the Night City roads away from the hotel. Jackie is hunched over, bloody hands still pressing the jacket to his gut, the white shirt soaked through with it. 

“A hostile enemy aircraft has a lock on us.”

V doesn’t need a word more from the AI taxi, climbing halfway out of the window, she spots the drones flying after them. Three of them. Needing steadier aim, she flips off her hearing aids with a thought, steeling herself as the car weaves through the road and she fires at them. This is Arasaka’s last ditch effor to keep a lock on them, if she can get rid of them, they’re in the clear. 

Three shots; first drone goes down sparking as it hits the city streets. Two more kills the second, the metal remains slamming into a streetlamp. And the third goes down with a final shot, smoldering onto the roof of a  BD store. She turns her hearing aids back on as she slides into her seat again; they’re gone. 

“Hostile aircraft eliminated.”

“Nice work there… Del…”

She shifts to look at Jackie, he has one hand on his stomach, the other braced against the door. V grabs his shoulder with one hand and his leg with the other, practically shaking him. 

“We did it, Jackie! We made it!” 

“Heh...guess we did…” It’s not the triumphant excited Jackie, she’d expect to hear. His voice still rough, a rattle barely leaving his lungs. Her eyes sting, no, no. 

“My medical diagnostics indicate that Mr. Welles’ condition is critical.”

“Critical, what- take us to a fucking ripperdoc, now! Vik’s behind Misty’s shop!” 

She reaches to put pressure against the jacket over his wound, hand over his, but the fabric is bled all the way through. Blood sticking to her skin, warmer than Jackie’s skin and he’s looking pale, paler every second. He leans back against the chair, strength starting to leave his body. 

“Apologies, but that will not be possible. Our itinerary has been pre-arranged and paid for in advance. I am not at liberty to alter it.”

“Fuck your itinerary and fuck your liberty, just get us to goddamn doctor!” 

“It's OK, V… I'll hold out…” 

When did his nose start to bleed, when he did he start hacking up blood, red streaking down his nostrils and over his chin. She sucks in a shaky breath, eyes starting to water. No, not Jackie, anyone but him… please.  She doesn’t know who she’s begging; maybe god, maybe fate, maybe just anything in this world that will listen. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she chokes out, nodding, “you-you just got to hold on, okay? And, and, we’ll hit the major leagues. Only the best jobs, swimming in eddies, just like you always wanted.” 

She brings her forehead to his, feeling the cold sweat of his skin, hoping her warmth, touch, her words; anything will keep him alert. The tears flow freely now, wet and hot on her cheeks. 

“Mija...  you’re gonna be rich, I can feel it…” 

“No, we’re gonna be rich, Jackie! You and me, that’s how it’s always been, I-I can’t do it without you, y-you got to stay with me okay! We’ll get back, you can see Misty and your mom, everyone and let them know you made it.” 

“Misty… She knew… She always knew…” he breathes out, eyes glassy with a weak smile, “told me not to take this job, why she always got to be right?” 

“J-just a little longer, please, Jackie...please,” she begs him, like he can stop it. Like he can put his inside back together, stop the color from draining out of his face, and can just stay with her. 

“The biochip…” he holds her shoulder, grasp weak, and takes the chip from his head with the other, “Hold on to it. For me…”

And he slides it into her neuroport, her vision glitching for a moment. She surges forward, wrapping her arms as tightly as she can, burying his head into his chest, crying into him as she clings tightly; wishing she had the strength to just hold him together. 

“Please, please, Jackie, I can’t lose you, just a little longer, please,” she sobs into his ashen skin and blood soaked shirt, begging with every slowed beat of his heart. 

For a moment his hands graze her back and she waits for a bear hug, for him to squeeze the breath from her lungs and lift her from her seat like he’s done so many times. For him to be Jackie; her best friend, her partner in crimes, her brother, her everything. But his touch is faint, the space between each beat growing further and further. Until his hands fall limp, body slack in her arms, and she knows the next heartbeat will never come. 

And she sobs, she holds him and cries out her pain, if only for a moment. No more ‘chicas’, ‘jainas’, or the odd ‘mija’. No more smiles that outshine the sun. No more nagging her to look on the bright side. No more bear hugs or hands the size of her head ruffling through her hair. No more Jackie…. And it’s not fair and it’s not right. 

“Mr. Welles has passed. Where shall I take his remains?” A robotic voice asks and she realizes the car is no longer moving. 

She forces herself to let him go, one of the hardest things she’ll ever have to do. Pulling away, she sees him, truly lifeless. Bright green eyes now dull with no light behind them, limp hands falling away from her. 

“W-what?” She stumbles over the word, brain fogged over with grief. 

“The Excelsior package provides for the disposal of passenger remains free of charge. I merely require a destination.”

“I…he-he’d want to be with his family,” she stumbles across her words. 

“Mr. Welles' closest blood relative is Guadalupe Alejandra Welles, proprietress of the El Coyote Cojo bar. I will make sure to deliver him safely. Mr. DeShawn awaits you in room number two-oh-four. ” 

That’s right… Dex… The chip. The world didn’t stop spinning, only her’s. There’s still a job. And the idea of still going, that there’s a tomorrow beyond today, seems unfathomable. How the hell could she ever move on…  

Because Jackie would kill her if she didn’t and she knows that. He’d haunt her for a thousand years and kick her ass every day of it. She looks at the remains, her friend gone, now limp and bleeding across white leather. And knows if he could speak, he’d tell her to get her ass to that hotel room and finish this job, that he and Bug didn’t die just for V to bury herself alongside them. She squeezes his shoulder, presses her forehead to Jackie’s one last time, feeling the cold of his skin. 

“See ya in the major leagues, Jack…”

V opens the car door and steps out into the backlot behind the motel. Rain pours down across her bloodied skin, soaking her to the bones, a numb chill clinging to her. Painted across brick is the Night City emblem marks the wall, red graffiti altering its slogan.. The city of broken dreams… 

She moves, on autopilot as she makes her way up the stairs and to the back door of the motel, sheltered from the rain once she’s in a trash filled back room. The motel is bathed in the neon red lights, only offset by the white of sign bearing its name, it’s always red. She stumbles up the staircase and then  another, past a tv chattering on about Saburo Arasaka. 

The merc walks down the gloomy hallway, dark except for warm yellow floor lights, Graffiti covered walls, rain washing down the windows at the end of it. And she reaches room 204, her arm leaden as she knocks. 

No response. 

“Its V,” she yells out, knocking harder. 

The door opens but before she can take another step, Dex’s body guard takes a step out. Large hand blocking her from coming further. He checks the hallway, making sure she wasn’t followed. After a moment, he finally pulls away. 

“He waiting.” 

The man takes a step back, allowing V into the room. She pushes through a bead curtain and sees Dex, leaning over a TV screen, another cigar between his golden fingers. She clears her throat, hearing the door close behind her. 

“WNS… N54… Even the pirate networks… You blowin' up everywhere! And the Jackster? He out in the car?” 

“He’s...dead,” her voice breaks, words like thorns in her throat. Having to say it, having to hear it from her own lips… 

“Condolences friend,” he tells her, shifting to look at her rather than the tv, “and the relic?” 

“Here,” she says, voice a murmur as she taps her neural port. 

“Hmm, I was afraid of that…” 

“What?!” 

She got the fucking relic, everyone is fucking dead, but she got the relic! Everyone died for this fucking chip and now he’s disappointed that she has it!?

“Saburo Arasaka?” Dex paces, smoking his cigar, “Dead…?! You got any notion of the shit you pulled me into?! You offed the fuckin' emperor! His majesty! Anyone with so much as a pinky toe dipped in this mess is as good as dead!’

“I didn’t kill Saburo! I- I-” she stalls, wanting to say she didn’t do anything, but can she say that? Can she act like she didn’t fuck up any of this? Like she has no role in Jackie and Bug’s deaths… 

"No shit?l Tell that to the ‘Saka ninjas they send after you!”

“We...we got to leave the city.” 

Badlands isn’t the safest for her, but it will be safer with money, she could settle in another city, maybe. She can outrun her family more than Arasaka. 

“You don’t say.” 

“Call Parker, we close the deal, collect our eddies, and go off the radar.” 

“A’ight, settle down,” he sits down on the leather couch, “Gotta be tactical about this. Parker, eddies, then we leave the city limits behind. But first… Your face… got blood all over it. Bathroom's there. Go get yourself cleaned up.”

He points her to the bathroom of the motel and she nods, in no place to argue, she just wants to be on the other side of this mess. To be able to tell herself at least she made it to the major leagues, at least Jackie would be proud of her, even if he isn’t here to see it. 

V stumbles into the bathroom, legs wobbling. Everything should hurt, her arm ripped open. Bruises mottling every inch of flesh. But she’s… numb. She works on autopilot, only somewhat aware of the door shutting behind her as she grips the sink, streaking blood across the silver.

Her blood and Jackie’s. 

Bile rushes up her throat, stinging as she pukes into the sink, choking and gagging it out. The tears threaten to come again, eyes stinging as he nails dig into the sink. He’s gone, he’s really fucking gone. Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood and name, her rock, and world. The man who took her in, who gave her a goal, a life… 

And how’d she repay him? 

Watch him die in the back of a Delamain. All her promises to keep him safe, to repay back all the kindness he gave to her. And she couldn’t save him, couldn’t protect him, couldn’t do shit but hold him. Fuckin’ only time she really hugged him with all she had and she doesn’t even know if he could really feel it, if his body was too numb. 

If she would have refused the job. 

If she had gotten them up the ladder. 

If she had been stronger. 

If she had been stealthier.

If she had gotten them through the lobby quicker. 

If she could have convinced Delamain to get him to a doc.

If she knew better first aid. 

If….if… if… 

Thoughts spin and whirl through her mind, a thousand reasons why it’s her fault. Why she could have saved him, why she could have done more, why she failed him… 

Misty will never take Jackie’s last name and it’s V’s  fault. They’ll never have kids, they’ll never buy a home together, he’ll never get to take her to that stupid hotel bar with the annoying waiter. 

Senora Welles will be forced to bury her son and it’s V’s fault. She’ll never hold her son again. Never see him smile again. Never see him live out his dream. Never cook his favorite foods for him and nag him not to talk with his mouth full. 

Jackie had a future, a family, people who loved him. He was going to marry Misty one day, have kids. Get enough eddies to provide for them and his mom. And now there’s a hole in all of their lives. The world as a whole now worse off without him, her own world destroyed. It should have been her, she knows that, the world would be better off losing her than losing him. 

Yet here she is and she’s just supposed to keep moving, supposed to keep breathing, supposed to live a life post Jackie. 

When she looks up, she sees her own reflection staring back at her. Red rimmed eyes, swollen  from crying and blood splattered across her skin, stuck in the ends of her hair. And she doesn’t know where it’s from, if it’s her own, if it’s Jackie’s, or if it’s from the people she killed tonight. T-Bug and Jackie gone, yet she’s here. 

A brilliant talented netrunner is gone. But she’s still here. 

The kindest man to walk in Night City is gone. But she’s still here. 

She glares at herself, because she has no right to be here and the world has no right to be this cruel. Her fingers clenches, pulling at her damaged nerve endings and she slams her fist into the mirror. Glass shatters and crackles, shards splintering into her knuckles. 

V washes the blood from her hands and face, cleaner but still a zombie as she turns to the door. Jackie wanted this for her, one of the only people who ever wanted anything good for her. If only for him, she owes it to him to finish this job. She stumbles to the bathroom door and opens it, stepping out.

Knuckles collide with her head, wracking more pain through an already injured merc, she’s sent sprawling to the ground. She curses and twists around on the floor, not sure she has the energy to stand back up, vision blurring as Dex’s bodyguard stomps on her. Heavy foot colliding with her head. She curses and sputters choking on blood.  She twists onto her back, blinking through the pain as Dex’s bodyguard hands him a pistol. The fixer walks closer, standing over her.

“Can't risk it, V,” he says casually, leveling his gun with her head,” ‘Member our first convo?”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” She screams, spitting blood as she stares down the barrel. 

“Seems I've chosen the quiet life, after all. No blaze o' glory for me.” 

The shot rings out, loud and clear, the world going dark as a bullet rips through the young merc’s head. Blood splatters across the dirty carpet, her body going limp, a final breath gurgling forth as she chokes on her own blood, iron taste clinging in the back of her throat. 

Then she’s gone. 

[anmagirl]

Discussing Angel Dust

OK, so I have been into a show called Hazbin Hotel lately.  Well, it is just a pilot and some comics but still, I have been into it.  Either way, there is one character I just have so many thoughts on and that is the character Angel Dust.  Sorry that this is so long.

Angel is a gay drug-addicted prostitute that apparently was apart of the mob when he was alive.  He is also the first to try to be redeemed in Charlie’s project.  Now since this takes place in the underworld but is all about trying to redeem demons I found this interesting and got me thinking a lot about this character.  Specifically on how he dies, what he is truly like, does he want to be redeemed, and whether it is possible for him to be redeemed.

The first question I had was what are the specifics on how he died?

Now it is already canon that he dies from an overdose but that is actually very vivid information.  From what I have read and kind of know being gay in the age of mob Angel was in was a HUGE problem, so I would think Angel would hide this information.  I also wouldn’t be surprised if he kept pretty much all of his personal life a secret from his family.  For all, we know he could have hated being in the mob but only did it to satisfy his family and draw away any suspicion on what he does alone. If that makes sense. This in turn could cause him to have major mental problems.  I bet turning to drugs gave him an escape to this. 

Now my question is was his death an accident or suicide?   It could have even been murder disguised as a suicide.

Accident - Now this is probably the one I think happened.  While in his usual escape from the life he probably did not want to be a part of he accidentally overdose on his drugs.

Suicide - This one is also possible.  If he did keep his personal life a secret and it was exposed I bet he would have gone through a living heck.  His family would disapprove and probably beat him or kicked him out.  He would be forced to live his life alone and in isolation.  Not wanting to go through that anymore he made the choice to overdose on the thing that he at the time was addicted to.  Now in the music video “Addict”, he said he was in a comatose first so his death was probably slow and he probably went through it alone.

Murder - seriously doubt this one but in a manga I read, can’t remember the name sorry, a character was kidnapped and was forced to overdose and died but because they were a known user the police counted it as a suicide.  Now I can believe something like this happening to Angel.  Mobs fight a lot so I can believe Angel was taken and was forced to overdose.  I doubt it but it is possible.  If you want to go to the extremes maybe he was kidnapped and was forced to do angel dust to get high and then be forced to pleasure his captures.  Only for him to fall into a coma then dying because of it.  (I am praying this is far from right considering what Angel is going through in the underworld.)

Now another question I had is what is he really like?

In the pilot we see him be kind of a jokester, violent, and crud but there are a few points you see something different.  Now, most of this was from reading and watching other people's thoughts and I must agree.

In the pilot, there are a few scenes to take notice on.

1) When Angel and Cherri bomb are in the turf war.  At one point Angel pushes her out of the way of something that looked like a gun.  Now when you consider where they are you would expect people to follow the “every man for themselves” kind of logic but here instead of running and letting her take the bullet he pushes her away.  To make it more touching he showed no signs of thought and just did it on impulse.  This shows he cares for her on a higher level than I think he wants to show.

2) After Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel dust make it back to the hotel Angel begins to joke about how there are no people at the hotel causing Charlie to get sad.  Now instead of continuing to joke he stops laughing and shows to be kind of concerned.  He seems to want to go up to her and say something but decides not to and walks away.  Now, this is huge because it shows he does care for Charlie even if he tries to hide it.  It also shows that even he knows when he has gone too far.  I would even think the walk away had meaning.  If you think about how he lives now and when he was alive I bet cheering people up is not his strong suit so instead of possibly making the situation worse he walks away and leaves her alone.

Now in the Music Video, there is also a scene that shows a bit more of what he is like.

In the post credits scene at the very end, you see him singing his true feelings.  How much pain he is in and at one point he says and I quote “ I'm addicted, I'm dependent.  Looking awesome...” then the big one.  “...Feeling helpless.”  This shows he might not be as confident and high spirited as he plays to be.  It shows a softer side to him that needs help.

Also in the video, we also see he has a pet pig named Fat Nuggets.  Just him having a pet shows something else too.  The fact that he has a genuine caring side.  The pig appears to love him a lot and Angel loves him too.  Now if we think about the persona he is trying to play I don’t think he would have a pet.  Especially one that loves him so much.  So this proves that behind closed doors he can be a gentle caring person.

Now the big question I had was whether he even wants to be redeemed?  I say yes and here is the way.

Now nothing in the Pilot really shows that he wants to be redeemed but in the music video specifically the post credit scene it does show quite a bit.  Like I said above it shows he is in a lot of pain right now and his addiction helps him through it but then at the very end he says and I quote “Maybe things won't be so terrible inside this hotel.”  I think this shows he does or at least hopes that the hotel is a good idea.  

Another thing that supports this thought is in the comic “Dirty healing.”  When Angel asks Charlie why she chose him to take part in her project and she answers he kind of gets a look like “you're not exactly wrong.”  Now I don’t think he wants others to know his interest since it could possibly make his life worse, so he rejects the idea as a whole. But then when Vaggie says and I quote “he’s not a good candidate,” I think Angel saw the opportunity to join without showing his genuine interest, and also it gives him an excuse when questioned about it, like when he explains it to Cherri bomb in the pilot.

Now the final question I had was if it is possible for him to be redeemed?  To that, I say ABSOLUTELY!  If the above doesn’t show it then I don’t know what will.

Now while I do think it is possible for him to be redeemed I don’t think he can come close to it right now.  And that is because of a huge obstacle he has to face.  Valentino!

We can see Valentino treats him horribly and that puts a lot of pressure and mental damage on Angel.  To cope Angel gets high.  So the more he works for Val the more he feels he needs drugs.  And since Val has complete control over Angel, Angel is unable to escape.  I believe once he does escape and this cycle breaks the path to redemption can actually begin.

We already know Angel has a hidden caring side, good friends, and seems to hate his current life, so I think he would like to try to escape and make a better life for himself than when he was alive or with Val.

So? what do you think?

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Tide Pools (1/6/2021)

Click here if you’re like “What the heck is this about?”

Alastor and Angel Dust @sluttyspiderpolkacock (and the same adorable baby featured here) hang out around a tide pool. Angel shares (with some coaxing) some of his worries re: Valentino following this little incident, and Alastor brainstorms with Angel possible ways to keep him safe—from adjusting his contract with Valentino to fleeing Pentagram City to getting an effective weapon that could take Valentino down a peg.

And the baby eats a crab.

(This is also where Angel gets access to the holy water that he uses here.)

Alastor

At long last, Alastor had finally gotten antsy enough to pull out his bathing suit and meander down to the beach to explore it properly. He’d found a little path right next to the ocean in the shade of the estate, and it had some tide pools he’d been examining with interest.

Unfortunately, being in the shade like this and having his arms and legs exposed to the breeze for the first time in decades meant he was chillier than he’d planned on. Detached from Hell as he currently was, he didn’t want to waste his energy warming himself. He wished he’d foregone the bathing suit and kept his coat...

Something billowy covered him up from above.

He jumped up and flipped it off with a startled trumpet sound effect, identified it as a coat, looked around, looked up, and looked back at the coat. Sure, that’d do.

He pulled it on, folded up the cuffs so they didn’t dangle over his hands, tied the two spare sleeves around his waist like a sash, and crouched down to study the tide pool again.

Angel

As the damned thing flew out of his sight, Angel gradually felt the ability to breathe return to his control. Deep breaths now. He could stay with Seapup a little longer. Gently, he threaded those chubby limbs through his spindly claws and pulled him to his fluff to warm him. Happy thoughts now... little sleepy Veci burbles... waves crashing against the rocks - - -

**And a loud, sudden TRUMPET.**

Pelagios started to stir. Then, mouth scrunched up before all four eyes popped open, he began to cry.

" _OHNONONOOO!_ " Angel cooed with a gather of the orange ball into his arms, " It's ok! I'm here! I'm SORRY, MIO BAM_BINO!_ Back ta sleep? Can ya sleep? Fa me? C'mon, let's go back to sleep. " He then rolled to his side and got up to pace the room, lightly bouncing and swaying the baby Veci to try and get him to calm. " Water? Ya wanna see the water, Baby? Yeah? Ok, let's go see what the jazz band's all about, ok? "

Smiling and making faces, Angel made his way to the balcony and perched himself over the edge to give Pelagios a taste of the sea air. With a little swaying and some light humming, it seemed to work long enough for Angel to let himself peruse the view. Sea... sands... sunlight like glitter over the waves... tidepools...

" ... Alastor? " Catching sight of a figure wearing Valentino's coat almost gave him a HEART ATTACK, but piecing together the features of his local Radio Demon pulled the biggest sigh of relief from deepest recesses of his lungs. " What'cha doin' down there in... that? "

Alastor

Alastor looked up. "Oh, hello! I thought I remembered this coat! I think the better is question is what is *this* doing down here with *me*?" He straightened up. Check out that snazzy 1920s swimsuit. Complete with skirt. "I appreciate that it didn't have *you* in it this time, but how many times do you plan to assault me with this coat?"

Angel

" _As many times as it takes fa ya t' learn ya lesson,_ " he teased darkly before laughing and shaking his head, " They were both accidents! Like this one! _Say ' hi ' to Uncle Alastor ~_ " Angel then tilted little Pelagios towards him. Too sleepy to do much more than yawn, Angel wagged a finger beneath his paw to mimic a wave. " I was just, uh, swingin' around. Practicin' m'coat flingin'. Y'know, job stuff! And got a lil' carried away! "

His ability to lie was getting worse and worse. He couldn't even look him in the eye and instead smiled off into the sky.

" Suits ya, though! Just ya color an' e'rythin'. Go ahead an' keep an eye on it so it doesn't get the better a ya again, yeah? "

Alastor

"Unfortunately for us all, I'm utterly incorrigible! You'll have to spent the whole trip pelting me with clothing."

*Uncle Alastor.* He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that when it was in reference to some stranger's baby. But he endured it with grace and dignity.

"Coat flinging. Really." Do you hear his skepticism. "I suppose there's a precise technique to it, is it. Minute differences in the wrist flick that communicate different forms of sexual desirability."

Angel

" Yeah! Totally! Look. " Perfectly balanced upon the railing, Angel extended a limp wrist and an immaculately straight leg in a striking pose. " _Queer..._ " He then shifted into bent arms and legs. Reek that raw masculinity. " _Drinks nothin' but beer!_ "

In a fit of laughter, he drew his knees back together and tossed his chin to the sky. Pelagios didn't seem to find it worth acknowledging, but Angel thought he was hilarious and doing an _exceptional_ job.

" Dunno what I was goin' for, but it did _somethin'_, didn' it? Look at'cha, all cozy ~ " He then leaned over his knees with the sincerest espression since the start of the conversation. " So ya just out explorin' ? "

Alastor

Uh-huh. Alastor kept giving Angel a skeptical look. "And I suppose you do many shows where you're called upon to strip while acting as aggressively heterosexual as possible."

He perked up at the question. "Yes! I found crabs!" He pointed at the tide pool. "They look *exactly* like Earth crabs."

Angel

" I used t' be a HIT at bachelorette parties, MIND YA! " he insisted snarkily before swiveling his hips off the balcony and dropping down, a slumbering Seapup still in tow. He then walked up to the pools and copped a curious squat.

" Oh shit, y'ain't kiddin'... " Angel mused with a lean almost too far. Perhaps the scent of fresh food riled him, as Pelagios _immediately_ bounded off his chest and dove straight for a crab. Eyes blew wide and multiple sets of arms flailed in a panic to keep him from falling in and dampening his fluff.

Alastor

An announcer’s recorded voice rang out, “*And they’re off!*” Ding ding ding! A crowd roared in excitement! Alastor leaned in to watch the seapup go after the crabs. Angel can look after himself, this is way more interesting.

Angel

Angel scanned the contents of the pool with hawk - like precision. Nothing seemed too nefarious, especially not up against Pelagios happily burbling on fresh crab guts, triumphantly circling the pool on his back like an otter. He exhaled his held breath and fell back.

" Jesus fucking christ... " he wheezed, " He was OUT COLD all but TWO SECONDS AGO! " Oh he is _BEAT._

Alastor

“Look at him taking his victory lap! What a champion!” Alastor leaned forward to grin down at the seapup. “You’re a vicious little killer, aren’t you? Well done!” If he had been worried for Pelagios’s safety, he sure wasn’t showing it.

Angel

A big, grinning face! The little veci copied it as best as his his little jaws could and propelled his tail towards Alastor's perch. He knew praise when he heard it and was beginning to learn that sharing was caring. So he offered a couple legs, waving them both in his chubby paws like flags.

Alastor

"Is that for me!" He plucked the legs out of seapup's hands. "Why, thank you very much! Quite hospitable of you." He offered one to Angel and crunched down straight on the other, like some kind of freak who eats crab shells, Alastor what's wrong with you. "I hope these aren't toxic! Want one?"

Angel

Angel peered over his fluff and sat up just as Pelagios turned tail to playfully harass another crustacean of some sort. " The fuck're you - ? " He rose a brow but nonetheless took the crab leg and started taking it apart. " Ya... supposed t' eat the fuckin' SHELL? It'd be a lil easier to think you can chomp on, uh, GRASS, but crab shells?? Ya can TAKE THAT?  "

Alastor

“You’re not *supposed* to, no. But it’s very satisfying!” Crunch, crunch, crunch. Enrichment. “... I probably shouldn’t swallow it, though.” Don’t mind him as he spits the pieces back out. Never take this man to a fancy restaurant.

Angel

He laughed out loud. " Yeah? Ya THINK? " he responded through giggles, half teasing, half validating. He then pulled the meat and returned the shell so Alastor could have his fun, " Don't choke, ok? Wouldn't wanna be givin' ya ribs another poundin' so soon. "

Alastor

“Don’t lie, you’re just waiting for another excuse!” Crunch. ... Crunch. All right, it stopped being satisfying. Once the novelty and shock value wore off, it didn’t really have much to offer. He tossed the rest of the leg into the tide pool.

Angel

" Now ya just bein' ridiculous ~ " he said dramatically with a fish through the tidepool, " I can deal a beatin' whenever I want, AND get paid t' do it. I don't NEED to be settin' anythin' up fa YOU. "

He then pulled something out. A sponge. A big one. _Definitely wider than Alastor's throat._ And a big, mischievous grin to go with it. " Bet'cha can't swallow this whole ~ " he joked with a crack of his neck as if to ready himself for the pounce.

Alastor

“Sure, but it wouldn’t be a beating for *me,* would it? It wouldn’t be half as satisfying for you!”

He eyed the sponge critically. “Hm... No, probably not!” Bait not taken. That thing didn’t look the *least* bit edible.

Angel

" Kiddin'! I was KIDDIN'! " he assured with a toss of the sponge back into the pool, " Ya really thought I was gonna shove this salty thin' down ya - ? "

And Pelagios volleyed it back, saturated with sea water. It deflated flatly against the side of his head and emptied enough water to drench him with. Hello, karma.

Alastor

The studio audience laughed obnoxiously.

Smiling politely and totally ignoring Angel's plight, he said, "No, I didn't—but I'm not putting it past you to hope I'd shove it down my *own* throat."

Angel

Angel raked his wet bangs off his face and rolled his eyes. It probably wasn't very noticible, but all eight went. " Tsk, even if ya DID call my bluff, I wouldn't 'ave LET YA. I wouldn't do ya like THAT! I wouldn' even let ya SELF, _do ya like that._ "

Alastor

“I’d like to see you try to stop me!” As a reward for misbehavior, Alastor plucked another tiny crab out of the pool and offered it to the seapup. Here, kid, you earned it.

“So! I’ve been just *dying* to find out—why the delayed arrival? Didn’t you have work?”

Angel

" That was the whole joke! " Angel exclaimed with a wringing of his hair as Pelagios happily crunched the crab and started playing with the legs.

A rich, sea breeze coursed over the pools and followed the shiver down his spine. " I did, " he said simply, " Then changed my mind. Big V didn' stop me. " Basically the truth, omitting the fact that he'd _tried_ to stop him.

Alastor

“Really? The kind of taskmaster who has his employees working on Christmas?” Alastor quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t stop you, or didn’t have an opportunity to stop you?”

Angel

He leaned back on his hands and crossed his legs, eyes narrow and subtly flickering in his direction from the sides. " ... _Yeah - !_ " The reply came in a curt exhale. " He could'a stopped me if he wan'ed to. Ya really think I could ever get the better of a brass like 'im if he 'ad anythin' t' say about it? "

Alastor

“Now, that’s a careful question. Do I think you could get the better of him if he had something to say about it? No. Do I think you could get the better of him *without* giving him a chance to say something about it and then decide what to do when you get back? Possibly.” Alastor had been wondering about the abruptness of Angel’s arrival. And he didn’t know a lot about Valentino—had never *cared* to learn much about him—but he suspected Valentino kept a tight leash on Angel’s diet, even more strongly suspected Valentino took more than his fair share of Angel’s earnings, and didn’t-even-have-to-suspect at least a couple of the gross indignities Valentino put his own business partner/lover through.

Maybe aside from a little obsession over nutrition and garden-variety unjust wages, everything was aboveboard; but it was enough to make Alastor suspicious of the idea that Valentino would willingly let his star employee go at the last minute during an extermination.

Angel

" WELL! Ain't YOU a SMA'T COOKIE! " he growled, " If ya think ya got me all figured out already, what's the poin' a askin', huh? Like hearin' yaself TALK? Get some sorta, OFF from makin' me out t' be some BITCH? " He'd twisted in Alastor's direction and raked a claw through the natural rock they were perched upon. A deep snarl twitched over the precious metal in his mouth. It was the most direct he'd been with him since arriving. And sudden, as if Alastor had abruptly shown in a secret, sacred place of his and made him scream.

" Well I ain't - ! " And he SNEEZED over his shoulder. Cold breeze, wet fur, and his high body temperature started giving him the shakes, making his beligerence anything but threatening. Brows scrunching in annoyance, he held up a finger in pause, sneezed a couple more times, and stared blankly. " ... Fuck was I? " Train of thought? _Derailed._

Alastor

Oh, hit a nerve, had he? Very sweetly, Alastor said, “I believe you were in the process of lambasting me for implying you were someone’s b[*BEEP*].” Isn’t he helpful. “Which isn’t what I meant to imply at all! Only that the fact that you *took* a liberty doesn’t necessarily imply he willingly *gave* it!”

Alastor stood, untied his sleeve-sash, and shrugged off the coat so he could offer it back to Angel. He was wet and sneezing, he needed it more than Alastor. “I don’t think I’ve figured out anything! All I know is that you plummeted out of the ceiling and that three out of the scant four facts I know about your boss are synonyms for ‘he’s a control freak.’ The rest, I can only learn from you. I didn’t want to be so *direct* with my insinuations, but I was starting to worry that if we got much more *in*direct, I’d never solve this mystery.”

Angel

Eyes glued to the rock, Angel took the coat and threw it over his entire person like a tent. " Fine. I left wit'out permission. Ok? " he muffled from beneath the thick velvet mass, " I couldn' do another night, 'specially not that one. 'Aight? Ya satisfied wit' 'at? Ya mystery solved, Prancy Drew? "

The bump started to shrink as he drew in his knees and curled into himself. He wasn't lying when he said he thought Alastor was smart, but it started to _worry_ him how _transparent_ he really was while he strived to draw an iron curtain around his occupational ( personal ) life.

Alastor

“Really? Prancy Drew? I would have gone for Sherlock Hooves, personally!” A light laugh. Ahhh, he shoulda been a comedian.

“That covers act one!” He crouched down again. “What worries me more is act two. What happens when we go back?”

Angel

" Not buppidy enough, " he replied monotonously before falling silent a few beats, " ... ... ... I dunno. I... didn' plan it. I don't even... " ~~Know if I CAN go back.~~ " I dunno. I'll... figure it out later - "

The mass grew a couple inches. " The fuck are _you_ worried about? This ain' got nothin' t' be doin' wit' you. "

Alastor

“You dare accuse *me* of being *worried*?” He planted a hand on his chest, scandalized. “Anyway, I could have asked you the same after you hauled me from the bar to your room! You owe me this one! Or I owe you one, whichever direction this thing goes.”

And Alastor was worried it *might* have something to do with him. If Valentino decided he needed to come confront his wayward worker—and if Charlie expected Alastor to be the one blocking the front door.

Angel

" They was ya exact words! " the bump exclaimed comically with a visible lean towards him, " I told ya, it didn' FEEL RIGHT t' leave ya in the middle a the hotel like a bump on a log, yeah? That's just _decency_ where I'm from. You don't gotta... "

Angel swallowed thickly as he tried to wrap his head around _whichever direction._ Was he looking to pay it forward? Simply get even in the transactional sense? The latter sounded more like him. The notion that he wanted the satisfaction in turn for doing someone a favor felt like it was _completely_ off the table, so they likely weren't going _there..._

_And his head started to spin._ " ... Ya don't gotta worry about m'boss... or my job... Ya already bought me some hours... That's... good... " _**SNIFFLE.**_

Alastor

A pause. “You’re right! *I* accused me of being worried! I don’t know how I’ll recover from this betrayal.”

Oh, no, was Angel about to get emotional? Alastor hoped that sniffle was from the damp. “Oh... don’t give me the credit, you bought yourself these hours.” He attempted an awkward shoulder pat. “Unless you mean back on Christmas, sure, although I don’t think that has much to do with this situation—” His eyes brightened. “Say now, how’s that for an idea? Go back and claim that at the last minute you got paid better to be somewhere else, give him his cut, do you think that would make all this blow over? You’d have to tell me, I don’t know him.”

Angel

Angel gasped with a violent flinch upon contact, frantically drawing the coat from over him as if he were drowning. Not being able to see Alastor coming was a mistake, but through a shot of wide eyes, Angel insisted nothing untoward happened. He clenched the bundled material in his lap and anchored his sights to it, shaking his head solemnly.

" His call tops e'rythin'. He wants me somewhere, I don't get t' tell 'im I got a better idea. It don't - ... it doesn't work like that. N - ... _no amoun' a cash's gonna fix what I did._ "

Alastor

Alastor pulled his hand back and raised them both up, palms out. Okay, no touching.

So he was more power-hungry than money-hungry. Pity. But something about Angel's reply rubbed Alastor wrong. *Fix what I did.* That sounded less like a fear caused by what Valentino was like and more like a fear cause by what Angel had done—and that made Alastor wonder whether what he'd done was something worse than simply skipping out on a shift. "And... what *is* it that you did, exactly?"

Angel

He didn't know why, but seeing both Alastor's hands up made him deal a double high - five. _See? Touch is fine! I can TOTALLY do it JUST FINE! HUZZAH!_

But his eyes stayed low, corners of his mouth twitching. It was hard to tell if he was about to burst out laughing or crying. Claws closed over his cheek and he turned his head towards the sea, as if the words he were about to say were the ashes of his soul to be put to rest.

He mumbled, " I broke outta the top story window, let the angels in, crashed 'ere. 'Splains the glass. "

Alastor

Alastor actually laughed at the double high-five. Okay! Unexpected, but entertainingly so!

And then let out another sharp bark of a laugh at the confession, less out of amusement and more out of surprise. “Well! You know how to make an exit, don’t you! Maybe you’ll get lucky and the angels will take care of the problem for you, eh? But I wouldn’t bet money on it.”

Angel

His cheeks rose in a weak smile that reached his eyes and not much else. " No... the angels wouldn' get 'im... He'd throw all of us to 'em first. Bet all our lives b'fore we even get a chance t' take a count. " ~~_Basically what *I* did..._~~ Angel winced at the realization.

Alastor

“Oh, keep your fingers crossed—who knows, maybe he had fifty meat shields and the exterminator that gets in will have a quota of fifty-one sinners to meet!” But there are no lucky breaks in Hell.

“Do you know what you’re going to do when you get back?”

Angel

" Don't matter i got _six_ to cross... he's still gonna be there, for sure... Waitin' fa me... " He pawed at the mass of hearts in his lap, raking through them, attempting to disrupt their pattern but they remained.

" ... Lookin' fa me. I don't - ... I don't KNOW. I _can't_ go back, but... What 'appens to a Sinner outta Hell too long? You're a magic man. Ya can pick up shit runnin' through Heaven, yeah?? What's it look like? " By this point, he'd crawled over the coat and put a tentative hand on the rock beside his hoof, pleading at him for an answer that'd lead to his least painful existence.

Alastor

His smile turned sad, without his noticing. “I can detect signals from Heaven. I’ve never been able to figure out how to understand them.” He sighed. “But, I do know what happens to sinners outside of Hell: same thing that happens to any soul in the mortal realm. You’d be a ghost. For now, you’ve got enough energy from Hell to sustain a visible, physical form—but over time, it will run low. Once you’re out, you’ll be another intangible spirit, detectable by the average human only as a shadow or an eerie feeling unless you find a source of energy to leech off of and study how to channel it. Maybe it would be different here instead of Earth, with so much more magic around that’s easier to absorb, but that remains to be seen.”

A vague shrug. He could ask Alexander, once he got the hang of drawing power through his radio, whether he collected power more easily here than Earth; and when Sir Pentious started living here for longer periods of time, if he ever got up to weeks, months away from Hell, Alastor could ask about his energy and whether he had to do anything to sustain it; but right now there was too much unknown.

“But visitors to Earth, angelic and demonic alike, are always on the lookout for fugitives. Usually, they’re just souls who didn’t pass over. They’re hauled in to their respective afterlives and that’s the end of it. I don’t know what they’d do with escapees.”

Angel

Angel swallowed thickly. " _I couldn' do that..._ " he whispered lowly, " _I'm too fuckin'... STUPID t' read through all that technical... spiritual... SHIT...!_ " Surely that wasn't the reason, despite how unintuitive it'd be for him. It was moreso his own frustration talking. His lack of tact. His inability to fully consider the consequences of his actions. Not to mention, REALIZE what he was doing until he'd already DONE IT. His instincts had protected his immediate future, but DOOMED him in the long haul.

" So I'd just... go back... no matter what... I can't just be ghostin' fo'ever... "

He melted into the ground, two sets of claws masking his face and wrenching through his hair. If he couldn't escape any kind of persecution, he'd take his chances with the angels... " No one... who's rumbled with the angels ever came back, huh...? " If Extermination Day was going to be his LAST, there's so MUCH he would've done ( most of which included hunting down all the people he already wanted to KILL, but nonetheLESS... )

" So that's it. Hide out 'ere until the angels find me. Take me back. Do whatever they're gonna do t' me. That's all I can do not to 'ave ta... _face 'im._ "

Alastor

“If it helps, I don’t think ghosts are given a how-to manual, and most of them get the hang of it.” But what did he know, he’d never been a ghost.

Alastor grimaced at that. “Well. No one who’s ever been executed by an angel has ever been *un*-executed. But people have survived close calls.”

He settled himself more comfortably, they were going to be here a while. “The way I see it, you have several options. One—“ ding, “—hide on Earth as a ghost. Some ghosts get away with it for centuries. Again, I don’t know if escapees are given higher priority than souls that have never left the mortal realm—but I’ve never met an imp who was *enthusiastic* about hauling in wayward souls.

“Two—“ ding, “—hide *here* as a ghost. Unless the powers that be *try* to hunt escapees on Okkylk—and if they were going to, we probably would have found out when Sir Pentious started spending nights here instead of Hell—angels and demons might never visit this planet. Why would they? It’s possible you could hide here indefinitely.

“Three—“ ding, “—hide in another ring of Hell. I have connections that can sneak sinners out of Pride. But being a sinner on the lam in another ring has its own perils, as you could imagine. I’ve turned back mid-trip if going forward meant putting myself in a position where I couldn’t walk back to Pride on my own two feet if I had to—I doubt you’d have that luxury.

“Four—“ ding, “—throw yourself on the mercy of somebody stronger than Valentino. If you happen to know any dukes who like to blow thousands on you and would be moved to tears by your terrible plight, now’s the time to dial them.

“Five—“ ding, “dye your fur, learn a new accent, change your identity, and go under cover.

“*Six—*” ding, “erase him before he can get his hands on you.

“And any of those could be combined to *great* effect with faking your own extermination. If you have any limbs you’re not fond of, all you’d have to do is toss one in a little pile of gore near where you were last seen!”

Angel

" I ain't gonna be taken by no fuckin' _IMP,_ " he grumbled, but seemed to relax some beneath the comforts of someone thinking for him when he had such shortened foresight. Slowly but surely, he started to remember who he was. " I ain't gonna _hide_ fo'ever either. I worked too fuckin' hard makin' m'name. If it'd all be fa nothin', I'd rather fuck off into extermination. "

Yet, the sternness of his words contradicted the shuddering, the fading pink of his bodily markings into the faintest grey.

" I know... some demons... but they're all either frien's a Big V's , or ain't gonna wanna make beef wit' 'im fa anythin'. Or care to if it's gonna mean they're losin' all the rest a his business. An' I'd be... in the same spot... caterin' to their e'erythin' an' if I don't - "

He stopped himself and curled up on his side.

" Madame... could... an' would, but she's got a deal wit' 'im I can't fuck with. I got a lot goin', but wit'out 'im I ain't got much t' bargain. He owns... ALL I got under contract. Everythin' but m'soul. "

Alastor

Everything but his soul. Alastor was silent a moment as he contemplated that, staring out over the ocean. Finally, he said, “Greedy. You wanted to have everything and you wanted it as fast as possible, didn’t you?” His tone wasn’t scolding.

“What are the terms of your contract? Any buy-back provisions, any terms under which it would immediately become void?”

Angel

" No... it was... slow... " he responded with an evasive weakness, " Yeah, I've always wanted t' be a star. Since I was human. But when I first dropped 'ere, I was... _fine._ Doin' what I was doin'. Workin' bars, streets, weapons. Until he showed me I could be more. An' I believed 'im when he said we was gonna be a _team._ "

He trailed off.

" I trusted 'im. Wit' everythin'. _And he wrung me the FUCK OUT fa E'ERYTHIN' I got._ There's... no way out. He 'ad me agreein' t' shit I shouldn't've. The way he talks an' the things he does... It's what he does. He can get ya agreein' t' anythin' he wants wit' just, a flick of his DAMN WRIST until he's covered all 'is bases. An' ya can't fight 'im anymore. Ya _belong_ to 'im, whether ya want to or not. 'Cause at the time he had ya noddin', everythin' just sounded... good. No fine print. It's ya whole _ass_ in bold. "

Alastor

“And who could pass up such a temptation.” It was damn foolish to trust anyone like that in Hell. But everyone had a bit of a damn fool somewhere deep inside of them, and the cleverest manipulators only needed to find the right angle from which to pry that fool into the light. “Do you have a written copy of your contract? Or was it all verbal?”

Angel

" Not me... " He picked himself up just enough to be eye - level with him. " Not... you, " he dared with an implicit confession before sitting back. " He has it. " Of _course_ he does. " I haven't even seen the damn thing in decades. "

Alastor

He didn’t react to the implicit accusation—but he didn’t deny it.

A sigh. “And I’m sure so much as *asking* to see it will raise suspicions. Not, of course, that you could ask even if you wanted to, if you can’t go back.” Damn. Alastor was sure the thing must have loopholes—*everything* had loopholes—but he wasn’t going to figure out what if he couldn’t see the thing. “What about your soul? Why *haven’t* you sold it? Does your contract stipulate anything about what happens if you do?”

Angel

" I... I don't... r'member... I don't think he thinks I got the guts. It was the one thin' he let me keep t' keep me thinkin' I stood a chance. I don't even fuckin'... know what HAPPENS or what it feels like t' not 'ave ya soul. He got me this twisted up wit'out it. Givin' it away would do me worse, wouldn' it? "

Alastor

"It would depend entirely on who you give it away *to!* And, say, whether they might let you buy it back. Mind, most 'sell your soul now, buy it back later' deals are designed to make getting out of debt practically impossible, *but.* Infernal law favors dealmakers who work in souls. In most cases, selling one's soul trumps any prior ownership claims over any other part of one's person. But you'd know better than I whether Valentino drafted your contract with a clause ensuring he'd maintain his holdings even if you sold your soul."

Every word of it was the truth—but consider the source when considering whether this was actually good advice.

Angel

He almost zoned out. It made much more intuitive sense to just KILL the bastard in place of reading between any lines. Which was what he was working UP TO before he blew it.

A grimace. " I doubt it, but then again, I don't know. Guess I'd... gotta get it from 'im if I really wanna fin' out. " He was nearly stark white. He had to keep going no matter how much harder he ended up making it on himself. Hiding would only be prolonging the inevitable. If he was going to end up going down, at the very least he had to take Valentino with him, or strongarm _some_ sort of upper hand... somehow.

Alastor

"Which brings us right back to the problem of your having to face him, doesn't it?" And even if he could get out of his contract that way, that wasn't going to do a thing to stop Valentino from coming after Angel if he was mad his prisoner was getting away. It addressed a long-term problem but not the immediate one.

Angel

He couldn't speak, only shudder. Angel had _nothing_ over Valentino. He was near certain he carried his contract on his person at all times. It was really seeming like there _was_ no way around it. Just a nod. A bitten lip and raking claws over his forearms.

" Can ya... hear what they're broadcastin' about? "

Alastor

Alastor hesitated, then shook his head. "Not without somebody opening a portal to Hell. I picked up a little trick recently that might be able to boost my power enough to listen across planes like that, but I'm reluctant to test it out in the middle of an extermination and risk broadcasting our location."

Angel

" ... Ok, wouldn' want that... " Angel replied meekly before staggering a shaky reach into the pool to pluck Pelagios from a pile of coral he was rearranging. " Later... could ya tell me? " He then sank his face into the seapup's head, clutching him dearly as he replied with vaguely confused burbles.

Alastor

"As soon as I can." He smiled wanly. "You're not the only one eager for news out of Hell."

He was cold again. He summoned up a big beach towel from indoors, and offered a second one to Angel.

Angel

" Thanks... " First things first, he could stand to feel more like himself. Angel let Pelagios down into his crossed legs and started drying his hair. So long as he was stuck, getting his mind off the situation was the best he could do, for now. Diligently he dried and out of his line of sight, Pelagios had escaped him to chew on a corner of Alastor's towel.

Alastor

He could restrain the urge to chatter for a moment. Let Angel have a second to recover.

He looked at the seapup gnawing on the towel Alastor had draped over his shoulders. And then, slowly, without looking away from seapup, Alastor stuck the opposite corner in his mouth and started chewing it.

Angel

" If I could get my hands on my contract, would ya help me figure out a way t' - " Angel slipped the towel off his head, hair a weird, frizzy mess and snorted at the sight. " Sorry, Schnookums! Took ya outta the water before you were ready, huh? " he said as he reached for Pelagios and attempted to gently ease the towel from his mouth.

To no avail. It seemed he made his choice. A tidepool rich with toys and potential snacks was second to gnawing on cotton and staring down the Radio Demon with the biggest, most impish smile he could muster.

Alastor

Ah, so it was to be a battle, was it? Alastor leaned away from Pelagios, tugging lightly on the towel as he did.

"If you get it, I can look it over." Somehow, chomping on a towel did nothing to hamper his ability to speak clearly. "I can't guarantee that I'll find a way to help—it depends on just how airtight Valentino's made his contract—but I know a thing or two about Infernal law and I have fiends in high places."

Angel

The little orange veci hopped forward, easily tugged but no less determined to win... whatever the object of this battle was to be. He was rested from his food coma and had a wake - up snack. All that was left was energy to burn. A nefarious glint in his eye, Pelagios dug in on all fours and started crab - walking to the side to tighten the towel around Alastor's neck. _Ruthless._

Angel clamped a claw to his mouth to stifle a laugh. " Thanks, I... I 'ave no idea how I'm gonna pull it off, but... " He thought a little bit as Pelagios playfully death - rolled like an alligator. " I'll get it, and uh - " A loud pulse echoed in his eardrums. He was running on sheer force of will at this point. " - worse comes to worse. Which AIN'T gonna happen. But if it DOES, er... "

Nifty and Husk didn't seem to have it all that bad. Of course, they were vastly different demons and if anyone knew how severely false pretenses could be it'd be him, but he still couldn't finish the sentence. Angel still wasn't sure if bartering his soul would be something worth resorting to.

" ... I double die. End of story. Fat Nuggets is gonna be goin' to Kyxs. "

Alastor

Alastor patiently allowed seapup to strangle him—goodness, what an inventive tike. He was going to be dangerous if he ever faced anybody who actually needed to breathe.

But his gaze remained on Angel, waiting for him to finish that sentence—*knowing* what it would be. They'd danced around the topic of strategic soul-selling already, after all.

When Angel chickened out before he could offer his soul up, Alastor was relieved. Alastor couldn't save face if he turned down the offer—but accepting it would be tantamount to directly challenging Valentino for ownership of Angel. Even if Alastor could legally finagle the transfer, there would be nothing stopping Valentino—and his allies—from going after Alastor.

There were friends he would risk his existence for. Angel *was* a friend, Alastor would concede that, but he wasn't yet on the VIP list. Alastor didn't want to have to tell him *no, I can't go that far for you.*

He placed his hand to his heart. "You have my solemn word that Fat Nuggets will not be made into bacon." His hand was immediately bound against his chest by the towel. "Oh, clever boy."

Angel

" Thanks. 'Cause if ya don't... " Angel, visage all but a void, crawled forward and gently swept Pelagios before he could make a full predatory circle around Alastor. It was clear enough to him that he didn't _mind_ being wrapped and was... perhaps a bit _entertained._ But he needed something to do with his hands. And he had to make some preparations. " ... It ain't like there'd be anythin' I COULD DO ABOUT IT. "

A knead - like rub between the fins of his head, and the Seapup started up a series of contented burbling followed by a slack jaw. " I gotta... go talk to 'em, " he said with a swipe of his things as he stood, " Ya... want any company, or should I take the lil' fella with me? " With a spare pair of arms, he dusted out Valentino's coat and wrapped the towel around his waist. " I could... leave ya with this, too... if ya liked wearin' it. It's pretty cold back 'ere and would be better to have that towel to sit on instead of the rocks, ah? "

Alastor

“Very true! The best guarantee you could get is sticking around to keep me on the straight and narrow! But that’s never entirely in our control, is it?” A wink. “Still! You should do the best you can.” The closest Alastor is going to get to saying *I’d like you not to get erased.*

“Take him, you’d get far more out of his company than I would. But I’d appreciate the coat! I was starting to get attached to it!” He stood as well, it didn’t seem appropriate to keep talking while seated. Especially since he had something a little more serious to share. “Before you go, I’ve got something else you might find useful.”

Angel

Angel rose a brow, not the least bit in the mood for some empty pep talk. Nonetheless, he gave a small smile and floated the coat over Alastor's shoulders. " Knock y'self out. Nevermindin' the extra arms, it suits ya better than me. _Nice 'n red -_ "

He cut his sing - song and canted his head. " Yeah? Ontop a some contract literacy? " His upper arms dropped to his hips as Pelagios cradled into his stomach. " What'cha got? "

Alastor

“They make for a lovely sash!” He tugged the coat back on and wrapped the extra arms around his waist again.

Once he tied them on, he turned his full attention on Angel. In what for him passed as a low voice, he said, “Now, I’m trusting you to keep this information to yourself. I’m not a dealer in contraband and I’m not looking for customers, I just happen to have a private collection. *But*, I happen to have in my possession two barrels’ worth of holy water—and I can increase that amount exponentially at a moment’s notice. If adding that to your arsenal would help you solve any of your problems... consider it at your disposal.”

Angel

He matched his drop in volume. " _Ya shittin' me._ " Though Angel knew he wasn't kidding in the slightest. Rejecting any semblence of good news was simply just a hard habit to break. " Angel weapons ain't exactly standard issue. How the _fuck_ did'ja get ya han's on _**holy** water?_ It really work like that? It really...? " A dark glint circled his eyes. " _Burn_ like acid? _Permanently?_ "

Alastor

"Would you believe *Valera?* They passed me a little kit of magical ingredients they happened to have been given but didn't have any use for. All the usual little herbs and spices, but *guess* what I found in the back and have been multiplying ever since!"

He leaned closer with a malicious grin. "I can't speak *directly* to its efficacy on sinners, because I morally object to experimenting with torture methods on humans test subjects—unless I happen to have someone on hand who deserves it, of course." Hand over heart. What a saint. "But every once in a while I'll scoop out a glass of the stuff and dunk a small demonic critter in to make sure it's still potent! And oh, yes, it burns like acid. It burns like napalm. Exactly as advertised. A little different for each creature, but never pretty."

Angel

Of _course_ he believed Valera. He believed Alastor, too. Who would've _thought_ that holy water was such a common commodity outside of Hell? ~~On second thought, that probably made a LOT of sense.~~

Angel bent an equal amount backwards. ( _The grin, the coat, the stature... a VAST difference compared to the image that flashed his mind and nearly sent him COWERING again, but nonetheless one he wasn't quite ready for._ ) A stiff exhale of his held breath and he quickly straightened up. ( _He could get used to this. He DESERVED to get used to this._ )

" Morally object t' torture experimen's on people? Never would've thought the big bad _Radio Demon_ cleaner than the _Outfit,_ " he teased with a matching lean forward, arms crossed and Pelagios thinking he's about to be handed off. _Look at those chubby little orange paws reaching for Alastor._ Angel's voice then dropped into a demonic growl. " So, ya think a couple gallons could fit a ten foot moth overlord's head? An' ya just gonna... give it t' me? "

Alastor

Oh, no getting in Angel's personal space today, all right. "The Outfit is evil for profit! I'm evil for fun! I think that puts me on slightly higher moral ground, don't you?" Studio laughter.

Baby reaching for him. Alastor automatically offered Pelagios a couple of claws to grasp on to. "Let's see, a couple of gallons is..." He conjured up two spectral red outlines of spooky floating milk jugs to hover next to Angel's head. "Should be plenty!" The milk jugs vanished. "Why shouldn't I? Once you know how to replicate it, the stuff's basically infinite!"

Angel

" _Touché ~ !_ No wonder I didn' fit in! " Pelagios let out a small SQUEAL of delight before grabbing both claws. Those four eyes sure are HUGE and soul - consumingly CUTE, but Angel playfully pouted at the comparison between his head, Valentino's, and milk jugs. " Buh - BUH! " He waved his arms through the projections and failed to stifle a snicker. " Not MY head! More like YOUR head! "

Angel then extended a hand to playfully ruffle Alastor's hair before drawing back. " Sorry, I mean, KIDDIN'! Thanks fa... the help... " he said sheepishly before drawing all four arms around Pelagios instead, just to find him very much attached. He gave him a little wiggle, but the seapup just took it as a means to wiggle Alastor's fingers. _So helpful._

Alastor

Seapup grabbed on. Alastor had a dull little burst of happiness that was quickly rolled over by a wave of old longing for a whole generation of young cousins who had once automatically latched onto Alastor’s fingers just like this and who by now were probably all dead of old age.

“It’s close enough! Most heads are about the same size!” And Angel’s was the only one available to hold phantom milk jugs next to.

Alastor automatically jerked his head back from the touch—before Angel aborted the effort himself. Alastor considered Angel’s withdrawn posture, and then the fact that they were probably going to be stuck with each other courtesy of Pelagios for at least a few moments longer; and then sighed melodramatically, tilted his head permissively, and said, “Oh, all right, go on. Just don’t spread the news or everyone will think they can get away with it.” He’d distract himself by wiggling his fingers right back, puppeting Pelagios’s arms in a little dance.

Angel

" N-no... I wouldn' wanna be doin' THAT to ya. I know how t' keep ya shit under wraps... " he said meekly before hesitantly reaching out. His hand didn't fall heavily, but light as a feather as he gingerly pushed his claws through the strands and reassured himself. _See?_ Sure was _Alastor's_ head, alright. Solid. With hair. Red hair with fading brown dye. A certain other Overlord - level demon wouldn't be caught dead with that level of inattention to his appearance. Antlers, not antennae. Ears. _Ya can stop bein' STUPID, now!_ With a ragged exhale, the last of his nerves ceased his shivering as he combed Alastor' s bangs back into place with the drop of his hand. A single, efficient movement.

Angel then stayed silent for a moment before being startled by Pelagios's jubilant squealing and animated dancing. " Ya _sure_ you don' wanna keep 'im fa a little bit? " he asked again with a gentle rub between the seapup's head fins. _Usually,_ that eased him up enough to release whatever death grip or lockjaw he had going on. " I'll come back an' get 'im from ya after I go talk to Kyxs, or ya can hand 'im off t' Valera if you see 'em. Whatever happens first. "

Alastor

His ears automatically flicked under Angel’s touch, but aside from that and his wiggling fingers he held perfectly still beneath the examination. There. Not so bad, was it? And maybe it would help Angel to relax a little.

“No no, that’s quite alright! I enjoy gently harassing small children, but I’m not terribly interested in babysitting one. You keep the kid and I’ll keep the coat.”

Angel

" Ok, say _bye - bye,_ Pelagios ~ " The seapup relaxed in Angel's hands and relented to being cupped over his shoulder with a turn towards the estate.

" _Blu - blu !!_ " he burbled with a double wave of his chubby citrine claws, lightly bouncing along with Angel's gait.

Alastor

"And a blu-blu to you, too!" He wiggled his fingers in a farewell wave at Pelagios.

Alastor made a mental note to make some discreet inquiries about how Valentino wrote up his contracts; and then he crouched down again to continue studying his tide pool.