[A's POV]
B and I had an interesting last few days. We'd fully concocted our story, moved into our new home, been acquainted with our new surroundings, and trained. We hadn't met any other of our coworkers, but we had learned a few things about the ones we did know.
First, Jack and Courtney (whose real name was Courtney Kennedy) were both waiters here. Second, B's thoughts on Jack and Jessie were true. Jessie was an assassin, and Jack was the LA Ripper, and both of them worked closely together to cover each other's crimes. The two also shared a type of father-son bond.
Jack and Courtney are both our age and attend the same high school. Jack comes in later than Courtney does in the afternoons because he is on the track team (and is apparently really good at it.) He stays later, however, and Jessie drives him home. Courtney was also exceptionally nosy but less in a concerning way and more in an annoying way. We'd been there for all of three days, and she'd asked so many questions that if I had answered her, then she would have known every detail of my whole life story.
However, she did not get anything out of me; however, Beyond had decided to distract her by boasting for the past two days. Courtney seemed to enjoy his rambling; I was getting irritated. Of course, we would have to meet our new coworkers, and that day was today. It was 9pm on a Wednesday night; Jack, Jessie, and Courtney gathered us behind the bar after closing after cleaning up. Of course, the door wasn't locked as it usually was.
So as we were all standing around, doing nothing, another girl walked through the door. She was young, probably in college, and dressed in short shorts, a crop top, and fishnets underneath. Although she had thrown a coat over it. Her hair was long, black, and straight done up in a ponytail, and she was most likely around my height, although the heels on her thigh-high boots made her around Jack's height. Personally, I thought she was pretty, and maybe if I asked nicely, she'd give me some fashion tips. B caught a glance at her name and tapped her name in morse code into my palm. "Paris Monica Cassidy." What a lovely name.
She walked in and called out to Jack first. "Heeyy! How's it been, Jack, my guy?" She said as she walked up to the bar.
Jack responded with what was apparently his favorite word, "Bitchin'."
"So Jess, these the new kids? They're cute." She said, ruffling B's hair, "What's your name, sweetie?"
B was very caught off guard by this and stuttered, "I- I- I'm uh-"
Jessie laughed, and Jack may have smiled for a second, "Don't be so direct you'll scare them." Jessie turned to B and pointed, "That's Rue; he's here for the usual. Murder." He then pointed to me, "And that's Alan. He's special. He's a government experiment. So is Rue. They're a package deal."
"Huh… that's cool…." Paris smiled at me.
"Alan, Rue, this is Razor. She's the only other person not here for murder. Well, she is, but that's not her main thing." Jessie put his hand towards Razor to gesture towards her.
"I'm in for an elaborate scheme I have in which I seduce rich guys, and they give me all their money. Then I kill them. I call it 'bed wed behead. Along with just regular prostitution. Which means I'm the only person here who's innocent in the state of Nevada."
"Oh, that's cool. I once dated a rich upperclassman because he gave me a bunch of expensive stuff. Then I broke up with him when he asked me to marry him." I chimed in. I don't really know why I wanted to mention that. Maybe because I wanted Razor to think I was cool. And if you aren't aware, that 'upperclassman' was L. I can't say that, however.
"Nice kid." Razor said and gave me a high five; she then stared into space before realizing precisely what I said and asking, "Wait, are you gay?"
I smiled, and B wrapped his arm around my shoulder and kissed me on the cheek, then said, "Package deal." And leaned back over.
"Yes… yes, I am. Rue is my boyfriend, actually."
"Coooool. We have another gay kid. He's uh, weird. He's cool and all, but he is a disturbed pyromaniac, so I uh, recommend being careful around him." Razor sounded worried.
"What'd you have against Jeremiah? He ain't that bad. On the scale of weird kids to look out for, I'd say I'm way past his scrawny ass." Jack lifted his head to say.
"Nah, Nah Nah, see, you're cool. You have some chill in you, and normally you just say oddly detailed threats. You're only scary when you're pissed off or freaked out. Jeremiah is ready to start throwing Molotov cocktails for funsies 24/7."
"Fair… but ya could kick his ass real easy." Jack grinned.
Razor sat down, "[I'll] Kick your ass real easy…" she muttered.
Lucky for everyone there, Jack didn't have any time to get mad because another woman walked in. She was around 5'9 and looked to be around Jessie's age. She had short brown hair, blue eyes, mildly tanned skin, and was a bit pudgy. She dressed like someone's mother with muted colors and nice, modest clothing, and some very nice silver glasses. She fumbled around, putting her keys in her purse, then hurried another boy inside.
He was blonde with brown eyes. His hair was messy and hardly reached past his chin. He looked like he had never seen the sun, and his lips were scared like he'd been biting them a lot. He was scruffy. His shirt was plain black with a jacket thrown over. Said jacket was black with thick, green lines running from the collar to the end of his sleeves. His jeans were black with tears in them, although they seemed legitimately torn rather than B's, which he bought with tears. His sneakers were green as well. He had gloves on and wore a collar around his neck. Interesting outfit.
I certainly preferred the younger one's outfit if I wore it, but the older women's clothing just looked nicer. B tapped their names in my hand. Presumably, the woman was Patricia Carson, and the child was Jeremiah Vincent. And I presume that he would be the foretold Jeremiah.
Patricia kissed Jessie on the cheek, and Ryan went up to Jeremiah in a few long strides, then threw him against the wall then stood over him. Go,d did I wish I were that blonde kid right now.
"Alan, Rue, this is Queeny. My wife. And the blonde Jack is abusing is Sparky." Jessie said. He seemed much happier with his wife around. Queeny turned to me, "Oh, you must be Alan. Your eyes are so beautiful; Jack's said a lot about you."
Jack snapped his head around and allowed Sparky to escape. Sparky then ran over to Patricia but stopped and made direct eye contact with me.
"Jesus Christ, you do have red eyes. That's weird. Jack told me you were weird."
Hmm, looks like my fantasies of Jack secretly having a crush on me were incorrect. He thought I was weird.
"Jesus Christ, you do look like a homeless rat. Hm. I was assuming you looked much more deranged from how Jack talked about you. At least I am assuming you are the fabled Jeremiah." I tilted my head, and Sparky froze hearing his name.
"Did you… tell him my name?" He said to Jack.
Jack leaned against the wall, "No their psychic or some shit."
"Sarcasm?"
"Nah, like, they for real they know names or whatever."
Sparky turned to me, "What's my last name?"
"Vincent."
"Holy shit."
Razor interjected into our conversation to ask, "Oh! What's my name!?"
"Paris Monica Cassidy." B said, "I'm the one with powers. I just tapped your names in Morse code into Alan's hand." B had to get his two cents in, as per usual.
"They're smart." Jessie said, "They're government experiments if you all weren't aware. Rue is also in for murder. They're working the bar, and they'll be living in the first bedroom from the main lobby. They'll be taking over lockdown activities. Rue, Alan, Queen works during the day, and Razor works at night. Sparky, Jack, and Court work in the afternoons, considering they all have school. Also, Sparky is Jeremiah outside of the bar or during daylight hours. Do you two have any questions?" Jessie asked.
"What are Queen and Sparky here for." I didn't turn to Jessie to ask. I just kept eye contact with Sparky.
"Queen is an assassin like me," Jessie replied, and I wanted to smile a bit. Queen looked so sweet that picturing her killing was downright humorous, "and Sparky is an arsonist."
So that's why they call him Sparky.
"Actually, I just burn stuff and play with bombs. Arson implies personal gain." Sparky said, not breaking eye contact with me.
"Whatever. You're all introduced now. Work begins as usual tomorrow. Anything else before I dismiss our meeting?" Said Jessie.
"We should tell them about He," Patricia said.
"Oh… right… He's the owner. We don't know his name or anything about him. He shows up, hangs out for a bit, then falls off the face of the earth again. All you need to know is that he's my father; he owns the building and deals with our beneficiaries. He's an ass, but he's the only reason we can have free reign of the city and not get our ass's kicked by a gang." Jessie told us.
"Speaking of gangs, stay on this side of town. Don't go past Torrance. Especially around Long Beach. Compton should be fine for you, considering you're Jack's age. But I wouldn't push it." Queen said, concerned, "Jack, do you need a ride home?"
"I'll ride with Court," Jack mumbled.
"Right, well, Jessie and I have to go home now. By." Jessie walked out without saying a word, and Queen left after speaking to us.
"Love to stay, but I got work! Stay safe, kiddos!" Razor yelled.
"Tch, you be safe." Jack grinned, "There's a serial killer cuttin' up prostitutes downtown."
Paris laughed, "Yeah, I think I'll be fine." Paris ran up to Jack and punched him in the arm, "I can take 'em."
Jack didn't even move from her punch and instead smiled then punched back, making Razor grab her arm, "Mm, I don't think so."
"Heh, tough guy. Call me when you're 18, hon." Razor said, walking out the door.
"We'll see about that, babe" Jack blew a kiss and then threw his head back and laughed, then looked at us, "What the fuck are you lookin' at bitch?!."
"Well, this is all horribly cryptic." I completely ignored Jack.
"Whatcha mean?" Courtney spoke for the first time tonight.
"Why do we have restrictions on where we can go, and what type of beneficiaries do we have?" I suppose I was a bit cold with how I was asking, but I was looking for information, not conversation.
"Classified." Replied Sparky.
"Classified?" The bunch of us responded in unison.
"Government experiments? I don't trust anything from the government. Jack's in an ongoing investigation, so is Courtney, and I have my own files too, albeit not as popular. I just find it odd that you showed up, knew all our names then started getting involved and asking questions. I don't trust you."
"You're admitting your distrust to me? That's the number one thing you shouldn't do in this situation." I glared at Sparky.
"Listen, I just don't see a reason to trust you with any information." He shrugged.
"I can't say much for Alan, but Rue's blood is black if that proves anythin'," Jack said.
"Prove it. And I want proof for Alan." Sparky crossed his arms.
B took a knife and made a cut on his arm. His inhuman, dark, red blood dripped from the blade and the wound and onto the counter. He then looked Sparky in the eyes, using his shinigami eyes, of course, "Is this satisfactory?"
Sparky was stunned, "I- Yes, that is satisfactory, yes."
He turned to me, "You?"
"Hate to say it, but I'm a bit more human than Rue. I must ask, though, I wouldn't presume you have any distrust of the English government? Nor would you have a distrust of me if I had proof that both Rue and I are from the same establishment?"
"No reason for the Brits to get involved, and I'd like substantial evidence that you're from the same place."
Rue gave me a concerned look, but I didn't react. I removed my glasses and showed the engraving on the inner frame, "This is the seal of the establishment I was raised in. Rue has a similar one on his knife. Said establishment is located in England, and I do have passports to prove it. They're fake but real enough to pass in an international airport. And if you really want, we have plane tickets from England."
B sighed and showed the seal on his knife. Lucky for me, he hadn't disposed of it yet. Sparky inspected the carvings, and Jack and Courtney looked over his shoulder to see. Sparky looked me in the eyes, I think. I couldn't really see.
"They seem the same." Jeremiah said, "Though I'd like to see those passports of yours."
I nodded to B to go get them, and he slipped through the door, then came back after a minute, then handed our passports to Sparky. He inspected them as well and then looked up at me.
"These seem real. I can believe you're British. For now."
"Hey, if you two is British or whatever, shouldn't you have, like, an accent?" Jack interjected.
"Not necessarily. B is technically from Japan and learned American English rather than British English before he was transferred to England. And my own English accent was fairly close to an American accent, so I suppose it evolved to match Rue's overtime." Not to mention the fact that my accent sounds horrid, and I use far too much slang when using it, "Now, can I get an answer to my questions?"
Sparky sighed, "Fine. We have mafia beneficiaries that make sure we don't run out of cash. They also pay off other people, so we don't get in trouble. Course, there are people in the underground who don't side with our beneficiaries, and there are people who can't be bought. Our main beneficiary is the Chambers family and some other smaller gangs, but we don't really know anything of them. Except for AK and Ross, they come around sometimes. Now, actually, our biggest restriction is cause a' Jessie. He's got a sister that runs a literal black market, and she gets a lot of criminal traffic, meaning it's a pretty fragile ecosystem of crime she's got. So when we come around doing whatever we want, it's always bound to piss someone off, and it fucks her shit up. Plus, she and Jessie just don't like each other, so all in all, it amounts to us being restricted to this side a' LA. 'Cept Compton. Cause we all go to school there, and Jack and Courtney live there. So presumably, you two would be allowed to go over there too because you're both our age and could probably exploit the part of our agreement that says that any school or childhood-related activities don't have restrictions so long as school friends are with us."
"So what you're saying is, Jessie and his sister don't like each other, so we can't do anything outside of just being kids and hanging out with friends without being restricted to certain parts of the city?" I asked.
"Yes, exactly," Sparky replied.
"Damn, do y'all ever like, chill? You two been at it like it's a fuckin'crime investigation, god damn." Jack was sitting at the bar next to Courtney, and B was lying on the bar, ignoring the four of us.
I sighed, "Can I have my glasses. I need those to see."
"Oh right," Sparky said, handing me my glasses.
I slid my glasses back onto my face and looked at B, "I say it's time to go to bed. Rue, we're going."
B jumped off the counter and waved goodbye to them before the two of us disappeared into our bedroom down the hall.
(=Oh boy oh boy, new people. Names are gonna be the worst part of this next to the drama, considering this entire fic is part of a series and falls between part one, which is all Wammys kids, and part three, which is mafia drama and explains how Mello took over the mafia and neither of those have been written by me yet, meaning I started in the middle of the series like it's Star Wars or something. So I have to write this to fit perfectly into what I have planned for my next part, which is harder than it sounds. Anyway, next chapter will be special because it switches POVs halfway, and it's the first chapter that isn't just A and B's POV. Also, FUCK this chapter. It wouldn't copy on my docs I had to upload this from my phone.=)