"Pull!"
There was a whump, a streak, then a blur that hurt my eyes as Apex twisted into knots, the sound of his laughter dopplering, distorted. It seemed to take him longer than usual, but eh. The day I started worrying about the beautiful monster's safety would be the day I hung up my superfan badge and went back to beauty school.
The woman beside me watched him eagerly through binoculars, muttering to herself under her breath. We had been standing closer, before, but after the first 'thermobaric entanglement transposition' whatsit that turned (nearly) everything around it to glowing dust, Duct Tape had set us up a table a good hundred yards away for future fireworks.
Firecracker—and the woman's face when she got her A-name made me feel a pang of unwanted sympathy—dropped her cobbled-together grenade launcher back onto its sling beneath one arm, turning back to the folding table, scribbling notes furiously into her notebook. Every once in a while she would tear off a page and imperiously wave it towards Duct Tape, who would take it and start making calls. Occasionally she would vanish for a while, then return and—carefully!—unload boxes from her personalized golf cart onto the table for Firecracker to tear open without a word of thanks or acknowledgement.
Meanwhile, I leaned back into my camp chair, arms behind my head, arching my back, feeling it go pop-pop-pop with satisfaction. I glanced over at Burnout, head buried in his magazine; he was reading Cosmo, and seemed surprisingly into it, but that was a whole other mystery I didn't have the time or energy to investigate. The little devil horns poking through the luscious flowing hair behind his widow's peak looked excellent, though. I would have gone bigger, but it was quality work for what he'd let me get away with.
Behind him, several other camp chairs were set up in a circle around an impromptu fire pit. Olaf was softly strumming a guitar, humming to himself while others listened, played on their phones, or just rested, letting the warmth from the fire soak into their bones. Two were dazed, drooling slightly, but Happy Pill was a careful artist, and Duct Tape had piled up bottles of water around them so they would stay hydrated. It was the first day off for the crew in a while—still three days until our next performance, and there was only so much you could set up ahead of time. And Kurt was off doing his thing offsite, so while the cats were away...
Off in the distance—opposite the direction where Apex was unfolding himself into three dimensions again—I heard whooping and shouts as two golf carts raced across the rocky terrain, their occupants bouncing and rattling as they darted around, taking too-tight turns to keep up with the soccer ball that was ping-ponging off of rocks and the croquet mallets they had found in a dumpster. Had to keep yourself entertained on the road somehow, and it wasn't like any of them were concerned about injuries.
I looked back there just in time to see Black Goat eat shit, spilling out of his overturned cart with both laughter and loud complaints. Happy Pill was sitting behind me, watching and smiling softly, sipping from a little glass bottle, her eyes bright. She'd had her turn with the new girl, talking Tinkertech for a while. Not enough gear brought from her studio for her to properly collaborate, but she did give Firecracker a sip from something that sent the woman cackling and moving far more animatedly over her temporary mad scientist lab.
It was peaceful, despite my misgivings. Everyone was one big weird-ass happy family, even the new arrival.
"He's still fighting his way out of that one," I called out approvingly to Firecracker over the sound of distant thunder. Apex had gotten sucked back into the effect, his hands scrabbling at the rocks for handholds, his crystals glowing brightly, his laughter just barely audible over the roaring of defiled spacetime.
She took a second to respond, eyes flicking my way, not interrupting her scribbles. "Yeah. Number sixty-eight. I'll have to revisit that one. Beautiful work, if I do say so myself." I couldn't disagree, even if she still gave me the heebie-jeebies at times.
We settled back into watching Apex's struggles, me through eyes shielded from the sun with one hand, her through binoculars, her manic fit of Science! having passed. She surprised me by speaking next, still watching her work. "I'm impressed you guys actually managed to get a tenured department head sacked."
"And break up his marriage," I said, remembering Kurt's tiny smile of satisfaction. Figured he would enjoy making people suffer as much as he enjoyed making money. The two went hand in hand so well, after all.
Firecracker laughed, a sharp bark, followed by a satisfied sneer beneath the binoculars. "Fucker had it coming." She let out a little sigh, half satisfaction, half disappointment as Apex finally shook off the last of number sixty-eight. She turned back to the table once again, fingers dancing over the cylindrical grenades like a piano, choosing her next weapon even before Apex waved across the distance to us. Had he gotten bigger? Maybe it was just the crystals breaking through the surface of his shoulders that gave that impression. Or the way his image occasionally flickered, his head twitching to look in two directions at once before shadowy afterimages merged again. I didn't know how that one was gonna affect the bedroom, but we were both creative monsters. We would figure something out.
"So this is life now, huh?" I mused, fishing around in a nearby cooler for another bottle of water. Could be worse.
Her eyes snapped to mine, eyebrows furrowed like I'd just mispronounced molybdenum again. "Are you fucking stupid?" One hand cracked open her launcher, shoved another grenade smoothly into it, snapped it shut. She fired, not looking, before Apex called out 'pull' again. "This is a stepping stone. I'm not settling for doing pyrotechnics for a metal band. I'm going to change the fucking world, mark my words."
I couldn't help but be offended at the way she referred to the greatest performance art in history, but… eh. I didn't need to defend Apex from anyone. Still had to take her down a peg, though. "Big words from someone in an ankle monitor."
Her lips twisted, but then she gave a pointed glance at my own, blinking silently just above my boot. Touché, but I chose to be here. Fought for it. And I'd make my own damn mark. Nothing she had done had regrown the tip of Apex's horn, after all.
"You think small, Chapstick." The bitch did that on purpose. "You have a goal, you don't stop when you achieve it. You find a bigger, badder goal, and then smash that to pieces. Never settle for less than perfect."
I was going to say that that attitude was what got her building bombs in a university basement, but I caught my tongue in time. I'd heard her story, filtered through Kurt and other crew members, and... I couldn't help but feel a bit of sympathy. Getting fucked by a bullshit world was an experience we all shared.
As she got back to work, and Apex started regrowing after his flesh had been turned into a glass sculpture and shattered, I actually gave her words some thought.
I knew what I had wanted. To get close to Apex. To show him how much I loved him. And then I got it, and… and it was going to end. Someday, somehow, but it was going to end…
I shook my head. Not if I could help it. I clutched the tip of his horn around my neck absently with one hand, and an idea crossed my mind, flickering like Apex's shadows. I grasped at it, thoughts suddenly spinning. "Thank you," I said distractedly to Firecracker, but she ignored me, already cracking open her next grenade and making tiny changes to it. I had the beginnings of a plan.
But first, I needed to talk to Happy Pill and Black Goat.
"Apex," I said, a little out of breath, as we sprawled over the pillow fort. He had been on a tear the last week or so, since that night he disappeared into the snow. Enthusiastic, passionate, everything I had wanted… before. Now, I wanted more. But it required… I bit my lip, then called out his name again.
"Hmm?" he rumbled, his snoring interrupted.
"Do you…" I flexed my fingers, rolling my wrist nervously. I could do this. Leap of faith. "Do you want to meet my family?"
He just stared at me for a long moment, the pits where his eyes had once been now glowing faintly white, occasionally crackling with something like static.
"Okay."