Orio's note: Hey, home come I still have to do these?! Can't I eat my bacon soup in peace?! Why isn't Joan doing this?!

Oh lookie, reviews!

LordMaRiFrizi: Wait, there was a cliffhanger? What happened? Where's Joan?!

Louise: (waves paw) Hi Louise! Where was I, You ask? Um... well I'm currently in the kitchen... so... what exactly do you mean by "when this was happenin'?" Did I miss something important?

SLS: (Growls) You... (cues cowboy standoff music)

Uh... anyway... I guess we continue with the story... wait... oh hi Mr. Skeleton- what're doing? Wait... don't come near me, don't come- augh! Put me down! Let go! I have rights!

Oh, and Joan own's nothing but her OCCCCCSSSS- (Carried off by Skeleton)

Orio was the second smartest of the feline trio, the first being Prim and the last being Video (but I'm sure you already figured that part out), but it doesn't mean he had superb intelligence, or common sense for that matter. Anyone with an ounce of common sense in their skull would know that villain food, especially from Hell's kitchen, are not to be trusted (or free).

"Okay listen, I don't know what the big deal is man! I only had three sausages, and the cook said they were free! They can't be that pricey, right?! I know people who can pay! My owner's right outside in the casino and I'm sure she'd be willing to lend a buck to two..." Orio begged as he was carried down the narrow hallway. Minutes before a skeleton wearing some casino uniform came into the kitchen and grabbed him by the back of his neck. He didn't say anything, but he had the universal expression of "you're in trouble." The two of them trekked down the hall, passing other skeletons and a couple of OCs Orio recognized on Deviantart. Eventually they reached an ominous pair of double doors. A sulfur-like stench poisoned the air and the pleas from the boss' latest victims came from the room.

"Wait... is that-" Orio wasn't able to finish his sentence because the skeleton gave three echoed knocks on the door.

"Enter." Said a deep voice.

"Uh... what's going on-?" The doors opened and Orio was carried in, and the sight before him made him screech. It was a large office made of dark brown and red wood. At the end of it sat an expensive-looking desk with the most hideous thing sitting at it. The... bear (?) had huge bat ears and long yellow horns. Standing next to him was the die-man Orio saw earlier. Sitting on the desk, surrounded by poker chips and bags of money (that may or may not have blood on them), were two traumatized felines.

"Found the third one." The Skeleton mumbled as it tossed Orio onto the table. Orio landed with an "oof" and bumped into Video.

When the cat collected himself, he noticed how strange his brother and sister were behaving. Video was looking down, the look of guilt sketched on his face. Prim, on the other hand, was crying quietly.

"... What happened?" Orio asked no one in particular.

"Well well, you must be the 'brother' Joan was talking about earlier." The bear-monster said. Orio looked upat him. He'd seen ugly villains before, but this guy had this eeriness to him you'd only see in nightmares.

"Uh... I guess? And who are you, the Sasquatch?" Orio asked.

The monster laughed, his voice resembling nails on a chalkboard. The three cats cringed in a way only cartoons could.

"That's him, Orio." Prim whispered, not looking at the villain in the eye.

"Who?"

"You know who!"

"Uh...?"

"IT'S THE FRICKIN' DEVIL ORIO!" Prim screamed.

Orio blinked. "Oh. Oh-OH!" Looking up at the villain, he said, "Uh... hi?"

Prim rolled her eyes.

The Devil leaned forward, his arms resting on the desk. "So... Orio, is it? I'm curious to know where you were when the fight broke out."

Orio leaned his head back, his ears flat on his head. "There was a fight?"

"Yeah," Prim huffed. "There were these purple minions and skeletons were banging into each other and Joan was zapping left and right!"

"Sounds like a hi-jinks battle in fanfics." Orio noted. "Did we win?"

"Does it look like we won?!" Prim screeched, causing Orio to cringed. "Joan collapsed for some weird reason- I donno I was in the bag half the time- and there were these card monsters... you seriously didn't hear anything?"

"My head was stuck in a can of bacon soup."

OOO

Joan didn't know who she wasn't to kill first, Video, the Devil, or King Dice, but one of them (or more) was definitely going to experience her rage when she got out her cell.

In the meantime, she had to figure out how she was going to get out.

When Joan first woke up, it didn't take her long to realize that her skeleton guards outside the cell were just water colored backgrounds. Neither of them moved or spoke simple because they couldn't. Joan waited for several long minutes, seeing if guards would pass by on patrol. When nothing happened, Joan dug into her coatsleeve for her wand. When her hand grasped empty air, her stomach dropped.

"No."

Where was it last?! When did she last use it?! Joan filtered through her fogged brain. Oh right, she was about to challenge King Dice when-

Oh crap.

"No no no." Joan hissed. "That little son of a..."

Joan stood up, grasping the cold cell bars. The bars themselves were not watercolored, so they shook as she trembled with rage. It took all of Joan's willpower not to scream.

That little prick stole her wand. Her magic. Her power.

And also her only way out of there.

Joan's wand ran on fictional magic, a power only available in fictional worlds. Since Joan was from Reality she couldn't produce it herself, but with the power of imagination she managed to find a way to wield it. That wand was how she traveled, without it she was completely helpless.

Joan took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. "It's okay... it's okay... he can't use it. And even if he could, I demon-proofed it before I left. There's no way he can get the magic." Besides, he wouldn't need it anyway. Black magic was far more powerful than fictional magic... and far more dangerous.

"Alright, Joanie. Your the Authoress. Think of something." Joan began to pat herself down, searching for a weapon. "I'm sure I have a spare lightsaber or mace or..." Joan pulled a key out of her black pants.

The key had a very toony look to it. Weird, Joan didn't have any toony keys.

Joan eyed the gates. Shrugging, she slipped the key into the keyhole.

Perfect fit.

As the gates swung open, Joan gaped.

"Cartoon logic." She said flatly. This was Cuphead after all, nothing made sense around here.

"Hang in there guys, I'm coming." Joan whispered as she slipped down the sulfer-stenched hall. The walls were all gates containing various prisoners, the only light source being torches held by mounted skeleton hands. The eeriness had little effect on her, her determination seemed to narrow her vision. Whatever was ahead, whatever was in store, Joan only knew one thing:

No one messed with her OCs.

OOO

Meanwhile, far away on Planet Truce, a utopia for all people- real or fictional- a young man felt something stir in his heart. It felt like a cross between worry and panic. Strange, there was no reason for him to be alarmed. He was simply taking a break in a deli's booth. The urge seemed to be coming from an outside source. The OC gripped his chin in thought. He didn't have telepathy, how could he sense the emotions of another unless...

...Unless he was connected to them?

The teen stood up, searching the crowd for his sister. For whatever reason his bond with his Creator has been reawaken, but the situation didn't look good.

Authoress' note: (whispers) Hi, everyone, I'm back from a long break (sorry I haven't updated in, what, two weeks?) Anyway, make sure you follow, favorite, and review. And Louise, about your "author squad" suggestion, hang onto that thought, will ya?