{Author's Note:
Sorry this chapter is late. I wanted to get it out before August, but my mental health took a turn for the worse and... I did not get it out before August, as you can see. This also ended up being much longer than I planned. i hope you all enjoy :).
Don't be afraid to leave a fav, follow, or comment!
As always, looking for a beta reader. Also, I redesigned a couple of the symbiotes, so if u head over to my archive account and go to chapter 2, you'll be able to see updated art for the.
End Author's Note}
Splicer was running home after the end of its night shift. Plenty of people were still out and about -for the lovely view of the stars, no doubt- and Splicer gave some of them quick nods as they passed. Some people even nodded back. Apparently today really was one of the good days. Aside from the whole fight with Euphoria earlier. Splicer didn't stop grinning till it reached Higgins St., its home street. Upon reaching the street sign, it paused its speedy bounds and sat, crouching on all fours like a cat. Something was different about the street. It could feel that, even though it couldn't quite tell what that difference was. An energy permeated the air, compelling Splicer to advance with slow, cautious steps. It kept its head cocked and scanned each house. Each lawn. For half the street it did this, and for half the street everything was exactly the same as it always was. It wasn't till Splicer noticed lights on in a house to its right that it clicked.
That house with the lights on, the one with all its peeling paint and crumbling wood, was supposed to be abandoned. Had been for as long as Splicer lived here. The house's windows, once so haunting in their void of shadows, were lit. Blinds drawn kept it from seeing whoever may be inside, but it crept closer anyways. Soft, yellow light filtered through the curtains, falling onto grass and showcasing nothing, for every piece of litter and every shard of glass had been removed from the ground. Splicer went as far as the fence, which remained as before. A structure composed of thin, rotten pieces of wood haphazardly nailed together. The symbiote didn't cross the fence, though it wanted to. Badly. It wanted to creep under the window and listen, to figure out just who these new people were. Surely, judging from the lights on both upstairs and downstairs, there were at least a couple people. But Splicer didn't go to the window. It stayed near the fence, the rotten structure oddly soothing in its familiarity. So like that it stayed, one hand on the fence, head tilted, completely silent aside from the swish-swish of its tail. A few minutes later the novelty began to wear off, and Splicer became increasingly aware of its bodily agitation building once more. Figuring it could meet these newbies in the morning, Splicer turned and left. Its leave was quick, and none of the humans inside knew it was there to begin with.
Jannicca awoke with a headache. She'd tangled the sheets around in her sleep. Milky white hair lay in rags all over the pillow and splashed across her cheek. Pale light smacked her face, and there was no way to stop it, since curtains had yet to be installed in this room. Actually, they had yet to be installed in pretty much the entire top floor. Hell, the plumbing probably needed to be redone. Everything needed to be redone! When Ethan brought them to the house last night, she'd been compelled to decline. But he was the boss, and she was the employee. This house was the absolute worst place she'd ever stayed in her entire life, but she'd bear it.
She rolled onto her back and proceeded to throw an arm over her face, groaning into the soft fabric of her nightgown. She reached her other arm out and felt around the little wooden table next to her bed. Her fingers bumped into something metallic and cold, and she grabbed it. Bringing the item to her face, she uncovered her eyes. What she'd grabbed was her watch. It had a thin, golden chain, complete with a little golden-edged clock face. Aside from that, it was plain. Its hands read 5:50. Jannicca groaned again. Her head fell against her pillow with a whump. She stared at the grey ceiling, contact-less eyes half shut, still drowsy, yet the entirety of her situation forbade her from sinking into sleep's comforting embrace. Instead she was filled with mirth, for what else could one feel but mirth in a situation such as this? A small, slightly crazed laugh bubbled out. Oh, how the universe loved to play games. She laughed again, quieter this time. Of all the ways people could think of meeting aliens, Jannicca bet none of them thought it'd be in a coffee shop. She rubbed her long fingers against her brow and shut her eyes.
Downstairs, the (somehow soft) clanging of pots made her open her eyes again. She sighed, fumbled her watch on, and, with all the resigned energy of a prisoner on death row, slipped out of bed. After going to the bathroom and cleaning up a bit -a process dragged on by Jannicca's reluctance to enter the old house's shower-, she slipped on a red coat with fur lining the hood. It was extremely doubtful she'd need it later, or even in an hour given how strong the sun already was, but she liked how it looked on her. That, and Jannicca wanted to make as best an impression as possible, which obviously included tasteful clothes during all times of day. When everything was over and done, practically an hour and a half had passed by, and the sound of pots had gone silent.
Jannicca descended the surprisingly sturdy stairs to see Sinatra lounging on the couch. The couch's clean, soft-as-new exterior clashed with the walls and floor, who's surfaces were concealed by dust. In front of the couch, sitting atop a fairly modern stand with drawers underneath, was a TV. Playing across the screen was a reporter Jannicca didn't recognize. Soon, the reporter disappeared and was replaced by the image of a woman laying on the ground of a forest. Dirt and leaves littered her body, as did drops of blood. Jannicca's eyes, purple once more, wavered and dropped from the woman to Sinatra. Hugging her coat a little tighter around her body, Jannicca gave Sinatra a disgusted glare.
"Fine thing you're watching in the morning," Jannicca scolded.
Sinatra didn't reply. In fact, she didn't even look up! A hot flash of anger struck Jannicca's chest, and her throat tightened. With a frown, she tugged her coat down and stalked to the kitchen. A washed pan sat face-up in the drying rack. Water still dripped down its lid. With a roll of her eyes, Jannicca flipped it upside-down, not bothering to nag Sinatra for the mistake. Not that she'd answer anyway, Jannicca thought, spiteful in tone within the safety of her mind. A rumble from her stomach made her realize just how hungry she was, and she left the pan to investigate the fridge. It was, like the couch and TV stand, fairly new. Its shiny chrome exterior almost looked too big for the house, what with the house's shorter ceiling. Jannicca briefly wondered what furniture the house had had before Ethan redecorated, but all she could picture was moth-eaten rags and a moldy, dwarf fridge with flickering lights. Even in imagination only, the image was enough to squash her hunger. Leaving the fridge unopened, Jannicca stepped back and roamed around the kitchen, opening every drawer and cupboard to memorize where all the cutlery and tableware was. Puffs of dust flew into the air upon the disturbance of everything she touched, whether it be handles, the counters, or, as it seemed, the air itself. She grabbed a napkin from a holder next to the sink and coughed into it. Her eyes began to itch. She dreaded what wearing contacts in a place such as this would do them. After another small cough, Jannicca collected herself, straightened her back, and left the hazardous kitchen most decidedly. With a firmness in her steps she moved back near Sinatra, who'd remained motionless and silent the whole time.
The TV had changed its gloomy news to something even gloomier. A headline running across the bottom of the screen read "Mass Shooting Startles Residents of Clovergale". Oddly enough no sound emitted from its speakers. Jannicca peered down, brows drawn tight in confusion till she spotted a bright blue light shining from behind Sinatra's impenetrable wall of hair. Jannicca's annoyance lessened, for it was not Sinatra's fault she didn't hear Jannicca talking earlier.
Jannicca placed a hand upon Sinatra's shoulder. Sinatra practically jumped to her feet at the touch. Her eyes swam in something akin to fear before they landed on Jannicca, and even then it was another second before Sinatra smoothed the tenseness of her muscles and sat on the couch again. She reached a hand to her ear and pulled out an earbud. With a hard glint to her eyes, she snapped out "What?" with barely restrained ferocity.
Jannicca felt her nose wrinkle (as it liked to do in stressful situations). Her mother's voice came floating up from her mind. Tsk. Composure, composure. "Would you mind switching it to something less gruesome?" Jannicca asked, voice soft and gentle. The voice one uses when dealing with frightened creatures. Sinatra's eyes never lost their glint as her gaze slid from Jannicca to the TV. She grabbed the remote resting on the arm of the couch and switched channels till the screen landed on something about a new tiger baby at a zoo in San Francisco. The cute, fluffy baby cooed in a vet's arms. Its striped body was too small for its large paws. Jannicca nodded thanks, not knowing or caring if Sinatra saw, and watched the baby in approving silence. A delicate smile showed upon her features.
Glancing up, Sinatra found herself vaguely annoyed by Jannicca standing over the couch's "shoulder", so to speak. Making to get up, Sinatra was stopped as Jannicca too began to move, too, only she moved to sit down and Sinatra had to tuck her legs in for Jannicca to get by. Jannicca nodded again and placed a small hand upon the soft cushions to lower herself. Once Jannicca was situated, Sinatra pushed herself up again and turned to walk away before being stopped, again, this time from Jannicca holding up a hand. Sinatra tilted her head in Jannicca's direction, but otherwise didn't indicate she was listening. A beat passed, then, "How old are you?"
"Nineteen," Sinatra replied. Jannicca's mouth parted in surprise, and her eyes widened. She stared at Sinatra, but didn't comment. Sinatra turned to face her. "I look older, don't I?"
Jannicca pulled back a little, brow furrowing as if she wasn't sure whether it was appropriate to agree or not. Jannicca couldn't quite place what exactly made Sinatra seem older. The best she could do was attribute it to Sinatra's tired, deep set eyes, who looked like they'd seen a lot already for such a young age. Or maybe it was just the air Sinatra exuded. It was one of blankness, like her eyes. Filled with a cold Jannicca could practically physically feel. Yet earlier, when Jannicca had first seen Sinatra watching TV, Sinatra held herself with a brash level of pride. Jannicca let out a small cough. "Well, yes. I mean, you don't act older, but you look like you're in your late twenties already." Her voice was cautious, afraid of offending.
Sinatra nodded, her eyes empty and her face expressionless. "I get told that a lot," she murmured. Dark strands of hair fell across her forehead, shifting as she looked away and walked off. Jannicca sighed, but she soon forgot about Sinatra entirely, as her attention focused upon a new set of babies on the screen, meanwhile Sinatra ascended the creaking stairs to her room. Closing the door behind her, Sinatra trudged over to her bed and, with a hefty sigh, plopped onto the blankets stomach first. She landed with a whump. A very comfortable whump. Closing her eyes gave little relief from the headache building behind her eyelids. She took a breath, held it, let it out. Did it again, deeper this time. She was five breaths in when a knock sounded on the door. With a silent snarl, she got up in a flurry of tangled blankets, pulling at them with sharp movements, which only led to them getting more tangled. The knock came again. "Who is it?" Sinatra called out, slightly breathless from her struggling.
"It's Ethan. I need you to meet everyone downstairs."
"I'll be down in a minute."
"Hurry." His resounding footsteps started up and faded away, soon replaced by the creak of him going down the stairs. Sinatra forcefully untangled the blankets from her limbs and flung them back onto the mattress before running her fingers through several tangles in her hair. With that done, she walked to the door and out it, wondering if this talk would be about how to work in a coffee shop or if it was, for the umpeenth time, going to be Ethan asking if they really wanted to do this. His concerns were unwarranted in Sinatra's eyes. She'd researched the place, which meant surely Ethan had, and, like what Sinatra found, Ethan must know the aliens had never hurt anyone. Not on purpose anyway. Maybe a few times by accident, but it was never anything more than a nick or bruise. Sinatra doubted new coffee competition would suddenly make them go ballistic. Her rambling thoughts made her focus fuzzy, and it wasn't till she descended the stairs that she realized Jannicca was talking in the kitchen.
"Really, I cannot thank you enough," she was saying. "It is truly wonderful that you decided to at least change the furniture before we came here." Her voice was higher than when she'd spoken to Sinatra. It carried with it enough fake sugar to clot one's throat. Sinatra frowned.
Ethan's voice was harder to make out. Though his speaking tone was commanding, his volume was low. Sinatra reached the bottom of the stairs and rounded them, as the kitchen was right behind. Jannicca and Ethan stood in the middle of the kitchen, she with folded hands, him with furrowed brows. His stiff posture was distinct under a new black suit. He looked over Jannicca's shoulder and spotted Sinatra, then, with his mouth pressed into a thin line, he held up one large hand before Jannicca could get another word out. "Welcome," he greeted Sinatra. Jannicca craned her neck back. When she spotted Sinatra, a scowl flashed across her features. By the time she turned back to Ethan it was gone. Sinatra strutted over to the group, glaring at Jannicca's back the entire way. Ethan nodded as she reached the circle, then, with his mouth still pressed into a thin line, he turned around and grabbed a few pamphlets off the kitchen counter. He held one out to each of them. Sinatra grabbed one with a tilt of her head, curiosity etched into her movements. Etched into her slow turning of the first page, and the way her tilt only deepened upon reading it. At the top right, the first page was adorned with a picture of a shop who's windows had white trim, complete with robin blue paint for the rest of the structure's wood. Its coffee brown door was protected by a two foot long awning. A concrete path led from the sidewalk to the shop, but otherwise there was no decoration on the shop's outside. No place for patrons to dine outside.
"Sir," Jannicca began, "is this our shop?"
"It is," he confirmed. "I could not find a larger place. Everything was taken by the time I arrived."
"Well, I'm sure it will do wonderfully," she praised, putting distinction into each word with the use of crisp pronunciation. Sinatra very nearly shook her head.
Underneath the picture was a short paragraph advertising the wonders of their "human made" coffee, followed further down by the shop's contact information and address. Over on the next page was a menu. It was filled with lattes, sandwiches, iced tea, coffee, sweet treats, and bread. Even Sinatra had to admit most of the stuff sounded delicious. Her stomach grumbled, drawing attention from both Ethan and Jannicca. A faint blush washed over Sinatra's face.
"I suppose it is time for breakfast," Ethan said. He brushed past the two women, heading to the front door and grabbing a clean tie from the coat rack, which he quickly tied around his neck with deft fingers, completing the outfit and cloaking his harsh demeanor in a very formal light. With that done, he folded his hands behind his back and held his hand to the door. "Let us head to our shop. I have a few things I want to go over once we're there."
Sinatra's head shot up. Her entire body leaned forward, a gleam in her eye giving Ethan a glimpse of the life hidden underneath her face. In hurried strides she and Jannicca convened with Ethan at the door, but once at it a prickly sensation whispered along the back of Sinatra's neck, making her eyes slant in concentration and suspicion. She rotated her head and spotted Jannicca, a few paces behind, staring at her with a critical eye. Sinatra's eyes hardened. She waited for Jannicca to speak.
In a hesitant manner, Jannicca looked back at Sinatra's eyes. "Are you sure you want to go… like that?" She gestured to Sinatra's outfit.
Sinatra stared at her for a second. Looking down, she checked over her clothes and found nothing wrong. Thrown together as whatever she first found earlier that morning, the result wasn't too bad. Sure, not too good, but not bad. A short-sleeved black t-shirt with a logo on the front, and an old pair of grey yoga pants, completed by mismatched socks. Yeah, not too bad. It wasn't like today was a working day, and they weren't about to go meet some fancy people, or show up to a wedding. Sinatra raised a tired eyebrow at Jannicca and nodded. Without waiting for a reply she turned and slipped her shoes on, then walked out the door, leaving Jannicca behind, who was busy giving Sinatra a glare. Ethan followed suit. Sitting down with an exasperated sigh, Jannicca took a little extra time fastening her shoes on. Her mother's voice chided in her ear all the while. She gave her forehead a slow rub and headed out the door.
Sinatra and Ethan waited at the end of the driveway, no car or vehicle of any kind in sight. Another sigh built in her chest, but she caught it, glanced around at the rundown houses, and trudged down the driveway. There were no cars in any of the other driveways. It was ridiculous to think Ethan would have got one for theirs. Besides, last night Ethan had said he chose this place because it was inconspicuous. A car would just attract attention. What he wanted this place to be on the down-low for, she didn't know. Right now, however, that doesn't matter. So Jannicca let the sigh die, joined the others, and began the walk to their new job location.
"It's nice," Sinatra murmured.
In front of her stood the picture from the pamphlet, only in real size. The wood had not a chip or crack, nor did the paint have any peeling. Quite the contrary. The blue shone against the sun, which had risen surprisingly quickly from its hiding place behind the mountain. Warmth spread through the air, twice as hot as when she had awoken. She glanced towards Jannicca with a hidden smirk, relishing in the uncomfortable shifting she was doing in that heavy coat of hers. Fashion had a price it would seem.
Standing in front of the door was Ethan. In his hands dangled and jangled a pair of keys. He flipped through them till he reached a key with gold coloring, the only one of its kind. Easy to find against all that silver making up the others. Fitting it into the lock, he pushed open the door using a handle set across it. It opened with a whoosh of clean air. Well-oiled hinges swung to and fro with ease. Sinatra inspected the outside some more, focusing on a white, painted bagel right above the door's handle. Rising from the bagel were thin tendrils of steam, and below that sat a chalice of sorts. Ethan stepped into the shop and held the door open, watching them with an oddly blank look. It reminded Sinatra of her own face. Somewhat. She trudged forward, taking more time than she actually needed. By the time she got to the door, she could see the way his fingers gripped it just a little too tightly. The way each breath was held, constricted, and sharp. She hurried past him, unknowingly ducking her head as she went by. Once inside the shop, she hastily turned her back away from the door. Away from Ethan.
Shaky steps sounded out as Jannicca entered. That fuzz-lined coat draped around her shoulders, swallowing her in a void of infinite heat and sweat. If Sinatra's olfactory receptors weren't notoriously dulled, she might have been able to smell that sweat from across the shop. Jannicca practically ran to the closest table and plunked down in it, hardly taking enough time to compose herself before she shrugged out of one sleeve and tore the bulky thing off, plopping it into the chair next to her. The sight gave Sinatra a curl of amusement.
"So," Jannicca panted, wiping strands of hair from her face, "I like this place."
"It isn't too bad," Sinatra agreed. Inside, the walls were the same white as the trim outside. The tables were a light coffee brown, and a stack of menus sat behind the counter, which was, thankfully, already fully stocked with the basic supplies, such as napkins and straws. All in all, it was nice. Calming. What made it even better though was the clear view of Jannicca subtly running her fingers through her hair to check for knots and taking small, rapid whiffs of herself and her coat. Seeing her so far from regality was better than food to Sinatra right now.
Ethan looked over the shop's inner walls before coming over to sit down opposite of Jannicca. He folded his hands atop the table. "I am glad you like it. That is important, for workers to like where they are. But that is not what I want to discuss. You remember me saying I bought the house for us because there is a project I want us to work together on, right?" Both women nodded. "You cannot tell anyone of this project. If you do, we could be kicked out of town and lose the business." His heavy gaze pinned down each of them, looking for any lie as they swore they'd never tell. He took a breath. "This project is to help run the business."
Sinatra stared at him, eyes squinted, trying to work out what'd he say. A sinking suspicion loomed in her gut, and she dreaded his next words.
"We are to build a shield," he continued. "To protect this building from any damage that may befall it. The locals are crazy. Their powers are crazy. Buildings get destroyed and broken often enough. But that is their way, and to build something that goes against it is blasphemy. If they discover we have created a shield to cheat our business into protection, they will not treat us well. They may even kick us out for life. Which is why," he said, not noticing the way Sinatra had gone loose, for too focused on Jannicca at the moment he was, "I bought a house such as I did. There are hardly any locals or tourists around it. And those who do live nearby do not pay much attention to the dealings of others. We will build it there, test it, and if it works, we will have the one advantage no one else in this entire town does." He leaned back, hands still on top of the table, expression set in grim satisfaction. "The parts have already been transferred to the house. We just have to build it."
Sinatra blinked at him. "Build it?" She questioned. "It is a reasonable plan, but I'm not a scientist or builder of any kind. I'm fairly certain Jannicca isn't either." She tilted her head at Jannicca, daring her to defend herself from the obvious.
Jannicca stared back, matching Sinatra's tilt with one of her own faint sneers. "No," she said, voice tight. "I have no expertise in either building or science."
Sinatra leaned back, arms crossed and posture relaxed. Despite her certainty, it had gone completely the opposite from what she feared he would say. From his mouth, were the expected words of a plan set around killing or harming the symbiotes. Sinatra had yet to even set foot inside their shop, yet the thought of harming them in any way was already grossly worrying.
Ethan sighed. "I am well aware of your lack of knowledge. Which is why this plan will take time. In the meanwhile, we will open this place and work as usual. We cannot afford to wait. Since your schedules are now cleared we will open on the upcoming Monday." His stiff posture relaxed, but just barely. Just enough for Sinatra to know he was resigning himself to the plan's future struggles. "Until then, we need to get a scope on our enemies."
Jannicca budded in. "Didn't you do that while you were here last time?"
"Partly. I had many things to get done, so I did not have as much time as I would have liked to observe them. I have yet to see the inside of their shop."
Sinatra leaned back, arms folded and body relaxed. Sinatra leaned back, arms folded and body relaxed. Despite her certainty, it had gone completely the opposite from what she feared he would say. From his mouth were the expected words of a plan set around killing or harming the symbiotes. Sinatra had yet to even set foot inside their shop, yet the thought of harming them in any way was already grossly worrying. "So you just want us to see how they run the place?"
"Yes. I am hoping it will let us find ways to undermine their marketing process. If they do not have free samples, we will have them, and so forth. People will be more inclined to come to us if we implement what they do not."
"How do you want us to do this?"
"Simple. We will pose as customers. We go in, say we are new, and spend time eating inside and watching them. Take notes."
Sinatra hummed a short note. "Simple enough. I'm guessing you want us to do this today?"
"Yes." Ethan's hard, eagle eyes and bushy brows made his gaze too intense for this topic. Sinatra nearly let loose a spurt of laughter.
"Well, better get started!" Jannicca chirped. She shot Ethan a curious glance, and he nodded. The white-haired woman sprung up from her chair, graceful as a gazelle running through fields, and grabbed her coat, which she slung over an arm, even that move fancy, much to Sinatra's annoyance. Next was Ethan, who took his time lifting his toned weight up. Sinatra waited till he had stood all the way till she, too, got up. With Jannicca in the lead they moved out from the comfort of the cooled shop, and onto the sizzling pavement outside. People swarm this way and that, like a formation of birds moving across land rather than air. Groups formed into great, fluttering mirages, dizzy and shimmering. SInatra blinked away the red film cast over her vision. As her eyes adjusted, a glare overcame her features, brought on by the feel of sweat drying upon her skin in a sickly manner, giving nothing but misery and the desperate need to run into the nearest shop. Judging by Ethan's and Jannicca's stiff, forward-leaning postures, they weren't doing so well either.
Keeping together proved harder than Sinatra initially thought. Several times already she'd gotten separated from them by a gaggle of irritatingly cheery people, who often held (or were being held by) even more irritatingly loud children. She spent the walk cursing why people had kids. Nothing short of awful little parasites they were. Eventually though, they all made it down the long block still in sight of one another. Ethan turned and stepped next to a short fence, waiting for his companions to join him. They all huddled together, and Ethan nodded towards a small shop a store over. Behind its wooden fence stood a tall sign with the words Symbiotic Slurps in bold, golden cursive. At the end of Slurps was a logo. One of the symbiotes, Sonar, according to Sinatra's website memory, held a cup of coffee in each hand. Two long tongues hung down, and most of their head was obscured by a hood with teeth lining the edges. Sinatra cocked her head, eyes firmly planted on the image. She stood entranced, mesmerized, till Jannicca, to Sinatra's great discontent, shook her shoulder, snapping Sinatra out of it. Turning a harsh gaze upon her companions, Sinatra stared at Jannicca, waiting for answers. Even so, Sinatra's silence carried enough heavy fire that Jannicca felt the anger without a single word said.
"Sinatra. Did you hear me?" Ethan asked.
She turned towards him, making an effort at loosening her tense body. "No, sorry. Can you repeat it?"
He sighed. "I said that shop," he nodded once more toward it, "is where the aliens work. We will go in, ask for coffee, and wait around to take notes on their operation. Are you ready?"
Jannicca nodded once, a swift jerk of her head. "Yes, sir."
Sinatra followed suit with a nod. With her answer made, she turned her gaze upon the logo, mapping out its details in something akin to wonder. Ethan pushed himself off from the fence, then motioned them to follow. A strange anticipation built in Sinatra's gut. As she got closer to the shop, she couldn't squash down the sudden flickers of excitement. To be honest, she didn't want to. Even so, she also didn't want the others to see. Ethan would probably brand her a traitor or liability to their own business. Sinatra nearly snorted at her own thoughts. Soon enough, however, her grim cloud lifted more and more. Lifted as high as the sky by the time they got to the well-kept lawn and cobbled path leading to the shop's door.
The urge to push past Jannicca and Ethan filled her steps. She slowed down to dissuade it. Her heart pounded, and the feeling of sticky sweat disappeared, only to be replaced by the even stronger fluttering in her stomach.
She couldn't wait to meet them.
A pair of small, red and black hands rummaged through a pile of boxes filled with old, useless files about the residents, though a few helpful notes were occasionally grabbed and set to the side. Still, the symbiote hadn't found what she was looking for. It was not till she opened a box stacked under several others to her right that she finally found what she was searching for. Reaching in with delicacy, she pulled out a long, crumbly paper whose words are nearly unreadable due to large amounts of dust covering its every inch. She shook it, checking to make sure it was not torn, which it was not. Satisfied, she got up and, clutching the object to her chest, made her way up a creaky flight of stairs. In the comfort of solitude, the symbiote smiled. Sonar would have no idea what hit them, and they'd have to admit she knew what she was doing.
A powerful, deep-throated voice boomed out, "Larry Roy!", summoning forth a tall, lithe fellow with blond hair and tanned skin. His strong jaw lowered in an all-teeth smile. He approached the counter with a swagger, which was entirely lost on Sonar for obvious reasons. Their endless shrieking notes let them know Larry had fully come up, and Sonar grabbed his croissant from one of the warmers behind them. Little tendrils slipped out of their claws and wrapped around the croissant's bag for a better grip. As Sonar turned around, Larry leaned on his elbows next to the register, flashing a wink that, to his regret, was only caught by Splicer, who's station for the day is at said register, which Splicer quite enjoyed as it gave it the chance to catch moments like these. Sonar held the cup out to Larry. The only indication Sonar gave him was an imperceptible tilt of the head and a quick flick of one of their tongue's tips. Splicer watched in leering satisfaction. It sent out a tendril and poked it against Torment's ribs, who was busy a few feet over making the next order. Torment looked up, a small scowl indicated by the way he gently tightened his body's substance and narrowed his eyes. The tendril poked him again and waved towards Sonar's direction. He looked over, spotted Larry's pose, and shook his head. So amused by the events before it, Splicer didn't notice Torment turn away from the scene. After all, just because a customer was trying to make a move (rare as that is), doesn't mean orders don't need to be made anymore.
Larry waited, as if that would suddenly get Sonar's passionate attention. Splicer's tongue lashed the air. He cleared his throat. "Is th-"
"You did order a croissant, did you not?" Sonar's dry question made him lean back in uncertainty.
"Yes. But, um-"
"Jake Willow!" Torment called. Another person unstuck themselves from a group of friends and wandered over. Larry watched them with fervent glances and licked his lips, leaning in to take another shot. Before he could say anything, Sonar set the bag down, leaned their elbows on the counter and, with a dramatic tilt of the head, leaned forward to meet him, stopping short by inches.
"Something you want?" They asked, deep voice lowering to a mock whisper, complete with sugary fakeness. Splicer leaned in. A tendril emerged from it's back and swept behind Sonar in stealthy swiftness! Slinking up the counter, it gently tugged the croissant away and transported it to the back counter. Splicer's mouth opened wider.
Larry's gaze hardened. "I'd like my croissant," he bit out.
Splicer's tendril quickly held it out to him, and Larry snatched it from the air. He left with bitter hatred burning in his eyes. Sonar turned to Splicer. "What did you do to it?"
Splicer only waved its tail and hands in general motions. "Would I do something like mess with a customer's food?"
Sonar waited expectantly. Splicer's answer was cut off by Torment leaning in between them. "We have a line," he reminded them. And he was right. Several irate customers shuffled and bumped against one another. A line had formed almost as far as the door, and people were impatient for food. Sonar shook their head and motioned for everyone to return to their duties. Splicer turned to the next person in line, urging them forward with several tendrils. It was a woman who walked up. A woman with striking white hair and even more striking purple eyes. Her messy hair masked not the air of perfectionism blanketing her. Her outfit was chosen for maximum aesthetic, and layers of makeup both seamlessly blended and stood out to highlight favorable facial features.
Splicer greeted her with a cheerful "What'll it be?"
She looked up at the menu, thin eyebrows drawn tight in concentration. Splicer, aside from its constantly moving tail, was a statue. The woman's posture was tense, but Splicer and every other symbiote knew this was nothing out of the ordinary. Still, Splicer took note of it, and decided some humor wouldn't hurt.
"First time?" it asked. Jannicca looked near Splicer with a bolt of fear flashing through her eyes. "Don't worry," Splicer laughed, "I'll be gentle."
She looked at it directly for the first time. Her mouth dropped open and she physically pulled back an inch. Splicer dropped its head a little, as if that would make the embarrassment go away. Torment, silent as ever, yet unmistakably angry if the shifting of his substance wasn't anything to go by, walked behind Splicer and gave its neck a good whack with his wings. Thrown forward, Splicer instantly pulled itself back so as to not get too close to the woman, who was still leaning back. Splicer's gaze darted around the shop, hastily checking if anyone heard and cringing when several people caught its gaze and snickered.
"Hey, hurry up!" A man in line shouted. Several people murmured agreement.
Right! Splicer looked back at the woman. The shock was gone from her face, but her posture was even stiffer. "I'll have a pumpkin spice latte," she said before Splicer could ask. Splicer nearly keeled in gratitude. It was sure if it'd had to speak again it wouldn't be able to keep a ridiculously loud screech from its voice. Nodding, Splicer wrote down her order. When it was done, she turned and sped off to a nearby table with as much dignity as her panic let her have.
The urge to look back was almost too great to bear, but bear she did, and resisted it all the way to the table. She sat down, set her coat on the chair beside her, and gave a nod across the room. Opposite Jannicca's table sat Sinatra, who's body leaned toward the aliens with an utmost energy of concentration. She missed Jannicca's first nod, and the second, and the third. In a huff Jannicca pulled out her phone and messaged the group insead. Not a second after it had been sent, Sinatra was checking her phone. She looked up, nodded to Jannicca, and stood. Jannicca closed her eyes, letting her head lean against the back of the chair. She sighed ,once, which was enough for her feathers to unruffle. She had a job to do, and that meant playing the nice customer. So do it she would. She put her phone away and waited for her order.
Sinatra had to go halfway out the door the line was so long. Disgruntled people fidgeted in place or played on their phones. At one of the tables outside sat a mother who's long, willowy face betrayed the look of happiness in her smile. Even so, it was not enough to distract Sinatra from her anticipation. Sinatra did not fidget or shuffle in place, and she suspected anyone looking in would not be able to tell her happiness from her boredom, as per usual, but that was alright. It was alright.
It was dandy. There wasn't anyone she could share her happiness with anyway. It didn't matter if no one could tell.
She closed her eyes for but a second, trying to shove away the sorrowful grip suddenly clutching at her heart, digging its teeth and claws in harder as if she couldn't already feel its pain. Her mouth twisted down as she clenched her jaw, and a child in front of her scooted closer to his father. Unclenching her jaw did nothing to ease her sorrow-turned-wrath, but it was enough to stop it from growing. A cold blanket covered her being, drowning out all previous joy in the process. The line continued moving, and she with it, till she had scooted forward to the center of the room where she could finally see the aliens. Laying eyes upon them swept that blanket of cold away.
There were three of them as far as she could tell. Three fascinating, beautiful aliens, though admittedly, with the people in front, she could only see two and a half, as the white one at the register was tall enough for its top half to be seen, but the rest of its body was blocked. The other two she could see, and she couldn't stop staring. They were made of a slick, oily substance, constantly flowing and hardening and oh so pleasing to watch! They shone like sun over rippling water. Behind one of the shorter ones hung a large pair of wings. So large they dragged across the floor behind him. A pair of little horns poked back from where a human's ears would be. Sinatra found herself entranced by those wings. They, like most of the rest of him, were a dark blue, and had a slippery substance. That substance somehow managed to replicate the look of feathers. She wondered if they'd feel like feathers, too.
The third worked to Sinatra's right side of the white one. She was pitch black, tall and sturdy. She mixed milk and added cream with the help of several tendrils. A hood covered her head. The alien's back was to her, so Sinatra couldn't see their face. Sharp spikes gleamed a wicked light as they ran down the aliens hood to neck, then started again at their shoulder blades, continuing all the way down to the small of their back. Sinatra leaned forward, almost stepping out of line for a better look. She (they, it? Do the aliens have genders?) was regal in her posture, in the way she held herself with pride. Even more spikes ran over her shoulders, and Sinara caught glimpses of what looked like a mouth on her forearms. Nearly drooling from the aesthetic pleasure, Sinara didn't notice the line moving up till someone tapped her on the shoulder. Sinatra turned around, too caught up in the aliens to feel annoyed. "Line's moving," the person said. He was tall, with a square jaw and sandy hair. Sinatra looked back and, sure enough, the line had moved up by at least a couple people. She hurried back into place.
With this new vantage point she could see the aliens in better detail. She began to map out their twisting forms. The white one, Splicer, according to the website, was the most twisty. Its body never stopped frothing. The winged one, Torment, was much more solid, but here and there, especially on the wings, she saw the tendrils creating his body slipping over themselves. The black one's body, Sonar, was the most solid out of the three, but she was no less shiny, no less interesting than the other two. If anything, she was the most interesting. Her spines sang a siren's song, and her hood, a lure of mystery.
The line moved forward, and Sinatra was taken aback as she realized she was the next one up. The teenager in front of her comfortably ordered a vanilla latte. Then it was her turn.
Sinatra slowed her steps so she wouldn't look too eager as she swiftly stepped up to the register. Splicer grinned down. Its teeth glinted against the overhead lights, but they were more intriguing than frightful. They reminded her of Henry, her alligator skull. One of several skulls she'd had to stuff into a suitcase. It was irritating, and she'd had to get a large suitcase to fit them all, but it was worth it.
"Morning," Splicer crowed.
Sinatra felt a smile tug at her lips. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
The alien's tongue swept out and waved around. "It is! It really is."
Warmth fluttered in and around and over Sinatra's gut, filling her up till she felt ready to burst with delight. She was talking to an alien! A very interesting alien! She stared at Splicer in ecstatic silence.
It cocked its head at her. "Need a minute to order?"
Her eyes widened. "Yes, sorry. Yes, I'll need a minute." Fluttering delight quickly morphed into fluttering embarrassment. She stared at the menu, determined to ignore the fact the alien probably thought her a complete weirdo now. Though she supposed it was hardly the oddest reaction it'd gotten, and probably wasn't even worth taking note of now that she thought about it.
The menu had a range of food and drink items, some sounding more appealing than others. Almost all of them had the name of a resident as their title. It was cute. The Ultron, a blackberry iced tea, didn't sound too bad. Neither did the Gamora, a club sandwich with your choice of chicken, beef, or pork. Hungry from lack of food all morning, she decided to go with both. "I'll have one Ultron and one Gamora," she told Splicer, her tone unnecessarily chipper and her heart still beating with embarrassment.
The alien nodded. "Good choices! Name?"
"Benji." Splicer nodded and wrote down the lie. Ethan had instructed them to use different names before coming inside. Personally, she took him as more than a little paranoid. While Splicer wrote, Sinatra watched. Watched Splicer of course, but most of her watching was limited to Sonar, whose back was still turned. Sinatra found her gaze roaming across Sonar's body, taking in everything from her long arms to her red and white claws. Her void-like "skin" was nothing short of gorgeous.
"Someone will call your name when ready!" Splicer screeched enthusiastically. Sinatra tensed, her focus jarringly broken.
"Thanks." She paid, began to leave, but hesitated. That fluttering grew stronger. She turned back. "Have a nice day."
Splicer's head jerked up. It stared at her, and Sinatra worried she'd done something wrong or offensive. But then Splicer's mouth opened in what vaguely looked like a smile. "You too!" it cheered.
Sinatra walked back to her table, smiling all the way. Pulling out her phone after sitting down, she opened the employee group chat, fingers hovering over the text box, every bit as eager as the rest of her to share the experience. She looked across the room, but people blocked Jannicca from view. Not having bothered to watch Jannicca's order, Sinatra had no way of knowing how she was feeling. Jannicca wasn't exactly happy, or excited, to meet the Klyntar, but she didn't seem to have the same animosity towards them that Ethan did. Sinatra's fingers itched to type, but the closer they got to touching the phone's screen, the more uncertain Sinatra felt. Her happiness waned even further at the thought of Ethan seeing her saying positive things about the aliens. At the very least he'd lose a lot of trust in her, Sinatra thought. Her brows drew close and her eyes grew heavy, and in the end she simply put the phone away, swept past any lingering heart ache, and settled in her chair to watch the symbiotes.
"So lemme get this straight. You actually want us to cause fire in the middle of the day? Like, you are actually gonna pay us to do something we're not supposed to?"
"But love to do!"
"Pay us to do something we're not supposed to do, but love to do?"
"Yes yes. If you do a good job."
Two brown-haired boys looked at each other, eyes sparkling with mischief. They jumped up and high-fived with all the exuberance of two trouble-makers about to, well, make trouble. The taller boy clamped his hands together and looked at the symbiote standing before the two of them. "We'll do it!" He declared.
The symbiote, too, clasped her hands together. "Excellent!" Her small pair of wings fluttered. "Let's get down to business."
Business scurried along. It was a good day. A busy day. Plus, Torment's wings had managed to avoid knocking anything over. Really, Sonar should have opted for a larger place over better location. Ah, but past mistakes do nothing for the now, and so Sonar swept the fault from their mind, thoroughly immersing themself back to the task at hand, which consisted of heating a Gamora sandwich and keeping an eye on the other two symbiotes.
Several kids squealed throughout the shop, either playing or crying. Whichever it was didn't matter, because both were annoying. The heater dinged. Sonar opened it and slid a few tendrils out of their palms, grabbing the food with much more delicate precision than their claws could give. They placed the steaming food into a bag, adding a napkin for good measure. Another tendril rolled the bag closed and with that all done, Sonar moved to the front counter, immediately coming to regret that decision however, as Splicer's squeals sounded too much like the kid's. Up here it was even more grating. Better get it over quick before anyone notices their growing exasperation.
"Benji!" Sonar hollered.
A short woman with long hair and a long face (both in look and in expression) hopped up from a table near the back of the shop. She paused, trying to unsuccessfully shove what looked like a phone into some pant pocket. The first half of the way to the counter, Benji's head was tilted down, and Sonar could only imagine a look of distrust or fear on her face. Sonar waited till Benji got within inches of the counter, then gave her the Gamora and Ultron. Benji took it without hesitation. A bit surprising, deemed Sonar. From her earlier movements Sonar pegged Benji as an anxious, fearful woman. But that smooth grab had been just the opposite. Oh, how seeing expressions in HD color vision would come in handy. Sonar pivoted 180, ready to go make the next order, but…
Something was off. Yeah, Benji still hadn't moved. Definitely off. Sonar pivoted back, wondering if the order was wrong. "Is everything all right? They asked.
Benji started. Her head snapped up to meet Sonar's face. "Yes, um, thank you…" she trailed off, the end of her words lilting down in uncertainty. Her mouth opened again, closing before any sound came out. Benji turned and shuffled away. A poke to Sonar's back had them whip a tendril out to smack away whatever touched them, which so happened to be Splicer's tendrils, of course.
Splicer's tendril poked Sonar again. "Yes?" Sonar growled, a sweet note overlapping the death threat.
"You know, I've noticed a lot more people getting used to us these days. I mean, two humans in one day thirsting over you? That's a record!"
Sonar tilted their head. Their mouth downturned, partially covering their teeth. "Thirsting?"
Splicer laughed a grating laugh. "Just a word ma'am! Don't worry 'bout it. Right, Torment?" Sonar heard the swish of Splicer's tail as it sped up. A flare of irritation urged Sonar to smack it. But like Hell if they were going to be the one to start a fight. The irritation faded, replaced by a sudden deep-set tiredness.
Torment, calmly mixing drinks at the other end of the counter, opposite Sonar, shook his head. "New slang," he explained. Splicer's gaze stayed fixed on Torment long after he'd spoken. Sonar couldn't help but grin. As long as it didn't interfere with work, a little employee romance was no problem. But then again, who were they kidding, of course it'd mess with work. Even without any romance work was messed up. Mostly when Euphoria was here. Sonar's fuzzy warmth dissipated as their mind conjured an image of Euphoria. They raised their chest in a mock breath and sent the image from their mind, focusing on Splicer and Torment instead. Currently, two of Splicer's tentacles were prodding at Torment as he did his best to ignore them and serve customers. Poor winged symbiote.
Sonar's grin returned, and Splicer's screechy voice was a little more tolerable.
Everything was a little brighter.
Jannicca, still without a latte, checked her phone again. It'd been ten minutes since she'd ordered, and she was thoroughly entertaining the idea of demanding the manager. As her mother always said, excellent customer service was a right. Anything less was unacceptable. But Euphoria's mother had never met aliens made with sharp teeth and muscles and large, eerie, pupil-less eyes. One of them didn't even have eyes!
"Pumpkin spice latte!"
Jannicca shuddered and winced at the squeal accompanying the words, but perked up at the order. There! Finally, it was ready. Jannicca started walking over, pausing when she heard harsh whispering. The eyeless one hovered over the horned one. Her deep baritone voice carried easily despite her attempt to be quieter. "What do you mean you didn't get a name?"
The horned one physically shrunk. "I was busy-"
"Did she even pay?!"
Jannicca stopped dead in her tracks. With wide eyes she scurried back to her table and plucked her purse from under the large coat. She hurried back to the aliens, hoping they hadn't noticed. The tall, spiky one continued to berate the white one till Jannicca announced herself with a cough. The tall, spiky alien looked at her, and Jannicca felt a withering glare placed upon her. How the alien did so with no eyes, Jannicca had no clue. All she knew was it was terrifying and oddly demeaning. She cleared her dry throat. "I forgot to pay," she said, quite proud of the way her voice held steady. The tall one gave a pointed head tilt to the white one, then moved away, grabbing a cup and getting to work. The white one's eyes drooped when it set its sights on Jannicca. Perhaps, Jannicca thought gleefully, it was still ashamed. As it should be!
As it wrapped a tendril around a cup next to its claws and held it out to her, hardly looking in her direction, Jannicca swiped her card and paid. She then plucked it out from the tendril's grip. Ready she was to comment on the long service time, but ready she was not to face spiky aliens, she went away without a word, almost hunching from fear, but writhing on the inside from indignation. She had gotten halfway to her table before-
Boom!
A shockwave rocked the store, shaking the tables, chairs and people. Coffee sloshed over cups, drenching several people's outfits and burning their skin. Stumbling over her feet, Jannicca ran to her table and quickly placed her latte down and snatched up her coat, throwing it over her arm as she scanned the store for the source of the noise. People ran to and fro.
They had no destination. No ideas. No goal.
Only fear. Fear, and panic, and that was more than enough to turn the shop into a rampage. People dropped their cups and grabbed their companions in a rush for the exit. Jannicca stayed frozen, confounded by the sudden chaos.
Across the room, Sinatra, mid-bite during the sound, nearly choked on it. She gulped down the large piece of food in one go. It slowly slid down her esophagus. She grimaced. Someone bumped into her from behind, escalating her panic. Without warning (or perhaps the boom as a warning) an orange glow lit up the shop, bathing everything in brilliant warmth and sun, making people squint and thus furthering their panic. Sinatra gripped her sandwich close to her body and sprang up, shoving her way through several people. A few pushed back, but were too concerned for their own well-being to stick around. Fighting her way through the mass, Sinatra reached the window. Most of the outside view was blocked by a crowd. Flashes of a teenage boy zipped through the air. Sinatra barely made out light brown hair and several bursts of bright orange. It looked like fire! But people gathered around like they were watching a show. Sinatra frowned and took out her phone. She sent a short text asking if Jannicca was still inside, then shoved it back into her pocket and set her focus to outside. More orange flashes shot through the air. Several people jumped back. She swore she heard laughter.
At the back of the shop, the symbiotes frantically conversed. Sonar's claws dug into the counter. The holes would have to be filled in later, but they didn't care. They were boiling, and people were gonna get burned.
Splicer ran from one side of the counter to the other, excitedly watching people run by and, to Sonar's annoyance, occasionally scaring them, too. It ran back again, but Sonar shot out their arm and grabbed Splicer by the back of the neck before it could frighten more already frightened people. Splicer's lower half jerked forward. It looked up, giving Sonar an abashed grin that held absolutely no genuine shame. Torment's tentacles shot out in every direction. They grabbed fallen items, held in place leaning objects and put everything back in place with the energy of a crackhead. Out of every three times he put back, his wings knocked over two. He gave them a putrid glance and tucked them in as far as he could. Once he got everything mostly in order he zipped over to Sonar and Splicer.
They all took another look at everything. "What happened?" Torment asked Sonar.
Their response was a grind of their teeth. Their tongues lashed widely around their body, having grown longer from rage. "You think I know?" They snapped. From out of nowhere, a brilliant, golden glow washed the shop in color.
Splicer stared at the walls. "What's that?" It cheerfully asked. Torment looked around, too. It seemed to be coming from outside. It was strangely beautiful. Everything held a spark of sun. Even Splicer's horns and teeth were a sunset now. It's eyes shone a swirling mass of warm hues, and that, Torment found, was oddly beautiful, too.
Sonar tilted their head, and Torment took a step back, the color's beauty forgotten. It was as if he could feel the anger radiating off Sonar. Could feel it like a physical force. "There is an orange light coming from outside," he explained, careful to keep his voice steady and calm.
"Let me guess…" Sonar's tongues shrunk by an inch. "There's another fire fight."
Splicer wiggled out of Sonar's grip and bounded across the shop, jumping over people's heads and giving them quite a shock. It's tail accidentally whacked adults and children alike as it slithered its way to the window. With its height it easily saw over people's heads. Finding the source of the light wasn't difficult by any means. Nor was it surprising. It was, as Sonar said, a fire fight. A pair of twins to be exact. And it wasn't so much a fire fight as fire versus water. Splicer watched, enraptured.
The fire twin lept sideways, just barely avoiding a surge of water thrown through the air. He ran towards the water twin, face scrunched in concentration as a ball of fire grew between his arms. It burned with the intensity of a thousand suns! Splicer couldn't look away, even when a tendril poked it in the back. Apparently this wasn't acceptable to the tendril, because it wrapped itself around Splicer's tail and horns and tugged hard. Splicer let itself be slowly pulled away from the window. Only when the sight of the fight was blocked again did it turn and leap back to the other symbiotes. Sonar retracted their tendril with a sharp thwip as it sunk back into their body.
"What did you see?" They asked.
An ecstatic smile spread over Splicer's face. Its bodily tendrils, already so wild, increased their speed. "Oh, just as you said!" Splicer chirped. "There's this fire twin and a water twin and they're battling in the street. I swear I've seen them before but I can't place where from."
Sonar reached a hand up and rubbed at their neck. A growl rang in their words. "The Fater Twins."
Splicer cocked its head. "...The fat twins?"
"Fater! Fay. Ter."
Personally, Torment was relieved it was them. He'd heard of them. They were idiots, but usually harmless idiots. He smiled. "We should be glad. The Fater Twins are at least manageable." Of course there was the chance some water or fire would damage the building, but the Fater family was said to be very good with aiming their attacks.
The shop's door banged open. With all the people running about, none of the symbiotes thought anything of it until-
"It's a mess out there! I daresay you need some help, no?" The voice drew out calmly. Its familiar, thick, sarcastic coating made them all look over in shock.
In the doorway, outlined by blazing red, stood a grinning Euphoria.
Oh, this is just wonderful. Absolutely fantastic! Not only did she have to interact with those disgusting things, but now she has to worry about being possibly burnt to a crisp. Jannicca silently fumed while she weaved around idiots watching some fire and water freaks trying to kill each other. Only a margin of people (mostly parents) got the heck out of dodge. Being outside was not by choice, certainly. It wasn't on purpose she'd gotten pushed out by the crowd. Jannicca shook her head in disgust.
A wave of droplets splashed against her, and she was loath to admit it actually felt good against the sun. A woman stumbled back, pushed by someone in front, and Jannicca, too caught up in her own thoughts, didn't see. She collided with the woman and let out a disgruntled oomph. The woman glanced at her, then pushed her way back into her original spot. Jannicca glared at her for a solid ten seconds. Something raw burned in her gut and squeezed her mind, something primal she couldn't place. Her legs felt like lead as Jannicca started walking again. Is this rage, she wondered. Is this what it feels like to lose it? A cold stone settled in her stomach and she sped up. Unfortunately, a massive blockage of people a ways ahead stopped her from being able to leave. Defeated and strung out, she turned back and headed to the shop, for at least inside there it was bound to be relatively free of people by now, and there was protection from the crazy locals fighting.
Along the shop's wall it was clear of people, and Jannicca, in all her glory of newly frizzy hair and skin shining with sweat, found it in herself to be grateful for that at least. She glanced inside the windows and did a double-take. Inside stood Sinatra, who, in what looked like deep concentration, didn't notice Jannicca's presence on the other side of the glass. Jannicca looked around, trying to spot what Sinatra was so focused on, and then she realized, with a note of exasperation, that Sinatra's eyes were tracking the fire and water boys. A smirk played upon Sinatra's features. It was a small, one-sided thing. Even more exasperating was its mere presence, for that little smirk only served to make Jannicca narrow her eyes and feel another bud of hate bloom up from the dirt smothering her heart. She stood outside the entrance, closed her eyes and gave her head a small shake. Regal, poise, calm. Were those not what mother taught? Jannicca hiked up her purse and opened the shop door, swimming in shame, that bud of hate curled and withered.
Logic told her to check in with Sinatra, but she didn't know how to without letting the urge to strangle someone get the better of her. Juggling her options, Jannicca looked around the shop to distract herself. Just for a moment. Just for a-
Her breath caught in her throat. At the back counter stood the three aliens from earlier, but among them stood a fourth, new member. A small pair of wings jutted out from its back, reminding Jannicca of the succubus from bedtime stories her mother had read to her all those years ago. Below them was a wide pair of hips, and above, a collar of thin teeth surrounding its neck. Everything shone in orange, gold, and black, such regal hues, glittering and smooth against the orange light from the fire outside. The new member's body shifted just like the others, but for whatever reason it was not so horrifying. If anything, it was sensual, delicate.
But then the member turned around. And the illusion shattered.
She was the same colors, the same shape, but Jannicca recoiled upon the sight of her front. Her face was just like all the others. Soulless, blank eyes and a mouth full of jagged teeth. A type of half jacket framed her large chest, but the "sleeves" ended in long, gooping tendrils with bulbs at the end. They twisted and writhed in the most sickening of movements, as did the tendrils framing her legs and hips. No longer was that shifting subtle. No longer was it a sight to behold.
It was monstrous. They were all monstrous.
Bile rose from her stomach and Jannicca tasted its burning, acidic sensation in the back of her throat. With a wrinkled nose she strutted over to Sinatra and put a hand on her arm, and felt it tense under her touch. Sinatra's eyes widened and she whizzed her head toward her arm. When she spotted Jannicca her face returned to its usual, neutral state.
"Yes?" She asked.
Jannicca took her hand away. "I just thought it's a good idea to make sure we know where each other are." She replied curtly.
Sinatra nodded, then returned her gaze to the window. "Have you seen them?"
Jannicca glanced outside and saw another splash of water. "Yes. Those people are insane, standing so close."
She only half-expected a reply, so it came as no surprise when Sinatra said nothing in return. Previous frustration fell away to exhaustion, and Jannicca slowly walked away to find a good table to relax at. A table well away from those things in the back.
Sinatra never stopped observing the fight.
"So, ready to follow my plan?" Euphoria asked. The rest of the symbiotes stared at her. Euphoria spread out her arms in a pleading gesture. "If we fail it's on you. But, well, I'm going to do something about it."
Sonar huffed. "It won't work."
Euphoria did not deign to respond, nor did anyone come forward. Splicer looked about to, and most likely would have had Torment not stopped it with a glance, thus Euphoria set her arms down and turned around. "Fine," she mock sniffed, "I'll fix it myself." And with that she walked out of the shop, leaving a pissed off Sonar to flex their claws, keeping them from damaging the counter any more. Torment softly stared at them. Silence passed over the shop, but with all the people shouting outside it was far from peaceful. A minute passed, neither symbiote saying a word as they waited for Sonar to calm down. Their claws uncurled, and with immense concentration they straightened and stilled their body, banishing everything unhelpful to a dark crevice within their mind.
"This happens all the time. It's nothing we can't handle, and it is not going to be a victory she can lord over us. Get the samples." At Sonar's command, both symbiotes nodded and scampered off to grab the necessary items, followed by a silent Sonar who split off to get samples. They listened to the cheers outside, to the fire, to the whoosh of water, and decided iced teas are the best choice for a day like this. They pulled several small bottles out of a mini fridge in the back and, although religion is definitely not one of their favorite things, they prayed every single drink was in its correct spot. With so many mixed in one place all the smells mixed together in an indecipherable cocktail, leaving them unable to pin down which drink was which. They only knew which to pick up because every object (at least, mostly every object) in the shop had a specific place so Sonar could navigate where to put what. Every ingredient had a special place to help them. Unfortunately, that meant when a bottle of milk got switched for a bottle of water, they didn't know. It'd happened before. One of the symbiotes would place down something wrong by accident (or, as Sonar suspected in Euphoria's case) on purpose, but that wrong item would have the same shape and weight as the correct item (and be the same, fuzzy grey everything always is) and Sonar would grab it without seeing the difference and an order would be ruined. They clacked their teeth, and the noise helped dissipate their thoughts. One of their tongues twitched as they brought out what they hoped were bottles of iced peach, mango, and bubble swirl tea. Euphoria and her cracked plan would not succeed!
Faint squealing entered their hearing range and they turned around. Torment and Splicer had gotten the sample cart and were wheeling it forward. Sonar got up and went to meet them, then gently placed the bottles upon the tray in the cart's center. A multitude of small glasses lined the tray.
Sonar took a second of calm, then turned their attention to Splicer and Torment. "Ready to go out?" They asked.
As predicted, Splicer's eyes shone with delight as it nodded, but the nod was oddly subdued, and its tendrils were unusually slow. Beside it stood Torment, so close they touched elbows and bumped against one another in the thin hallway. Sonar would have smirked if possible. However, a smirk was not possible, and so Sonar held an arm out for the two to pass, grinning as Splicer twitched every time it bumped against Torment.
They all made their way outside, only to find to their immense surprise that a noticeable portion of people had left. The likely source was soon spotted, and this time it came as no surprise. Euphoria stood on top of the building, a megaphone in one hand, the other waving to the remaining crowd. "Fear no more!" She shouted. "For the dangerous fellows have been stopped!" And, indeed, it appeared the twins were nowhere in sight.
"Oh, shove off!" An old, springy man shouted from somewhere in the mass.
A red-haired, tall woman in the front glared up at Euphoria. "Yeah," she shouted, "we want the boys back!"
Sonar smiled. The things humans did for entertainment were baffling, yes, and sometimes truly bizarre, but in this case it might just be useful. They directed Splicer and Torment to bring the cart closer. More people were getting angry, several threw crushed coffee cups at her. It's not like their arm strength is enough to throw a flimsy cup all the way up to the roof, but it's the idea that counts; and they want Euphoria to know full well what they think. None of the cups came close to hitting her, but she still flinched back at every throw. "Your safety is no longer threatened!" She told them through the megaphone. More humans muttered insults, and a few more dispersed. Sonar turned to Torment.
"Find the twins and bring them back," they said, voice calm and sure. "Pay them if you need to, but only if you need to."
Torment nodded and, unbeknownst to Splicer who was too busy giving Euphoria sympathetic little tendril waves, slipped away. He found the twins giggling behind a nearby theatre, passing bills between each other, mock stealing each other's money only to give it back with a laugh. He approached slowly and called out quietly. "Large sum there. Was it for fighting near our shop?"
The twins jumped. They stared at him with worried faces, but Torment held his arms up and stopped walking. The taller twin grinned a sly grin and relaxed his posture, giving the shorter twin the confidence to relax as well. "Totally," the tall twin bragged. His eyes shone with a trickster's light. "Did you like our performance?"
Torment lowered his hands and cocked his head, finding it quite curious, if not mildly irritating, that the twins saw nothing wrong with their actions. But who was he to judge when he was about to recruit their services again? "I wouldn't mind another show."
The short twin leaned over his brother's shoulder, staring at Torment with surprise. "Really?"
Nodding, Torment stepped a few feet forward. "As long as you don't damage the building. And please make sure to keep the fire away from any of us symbiotes. Follow those rules, and I will pay you to return."
It took a moment of thought, especially from the taller, older twin, who considered the offer with a scrutinous face. "As much as the first symbiote paid us?" He asked.
Torment nodded again. Both twins smirked and walked up to him. The taller one reached as high as he could to pat Torment's shoulder. "You should have just said so!"
It was surprisingly easy to return with the twins undetected. Even more crowd had vanished, leaving behind only skeletal remains. Euphoria still stood on top of the shop with her megaphone hanging down, defeated. No matter how annoying she could get, it hurt Torment a little to see her so down.
The twins ran ahead of him, sparks and droplets flew through the air and landed on people's clothes, drawing their attention. They gasped and pointed, immediately forgetting about Euphoria. They whooped and hollered and pumped their fists in the air, and Torment rejoined Splicer and Sonar. They clapped him on the back. Sonar grinned. "Well done," they praised. Torment would be lying if he said that didn't make him feel good. Sonar glanced at Euphoria, holding her gaze, so to speak, before pushing the cart toward the crowd. "Free samples! Who wants some free samples to complete the show?"
People turned around. Most already had their phones out. Those who did took a few pictures of the symbiotes before rushing over for a drink, which the symbiotes happily obliged to. Within minutes the crowd had doubled, and Splicer somehow found itself posing for the cameras instead of working, but that's alright. From the rooftop Euphoria watched, sat down with her chin in her hands. How could everything have gone so wrong? She scowled. If only people didn't prefer entertainment over safety. She would have been a hero! From deep within her loathing, a spark of something else. Something… deeper.
A spark of sorrow, she realized. Everyone would have praised her if the plan had worked.
She would have been the hero…
Down below, the symbiotes continued their catering, and the crowd only increased its numbers. Everybody was happy.
Everybody but her.
"So, what have you learned?"
"We learned they're a mass of lunatics," Jannicca spat. Sinatra shifted uneasily beside her. After the symbiotes left the shop, Jannicca had gotten up and told Sinatra they should leave. Her stressed voice and tight grip on her purse made Sinatra mute her protest, so off they went.
"We learned they're prepared for the unexpected," Sinatra said, glancing sidelong at Jannicca.
Ethan nodded. "Very good. Yes, they do seem well prepared for the unexpected." Knowing the horned symbiote saw him before, Ethan had elected to watch the shop from the outside rather than go in and order with them. "It means it will be harder to derail their efforts than I initially thought."
Jannicca sniffed. "They're already derailed. I honestly don't know how they keep the place running. The one with the wings almost knocked things over more than once."
With distant eyes Sinatra nodded. "The shop does look too small for them. They'd work a lot better in a larger place."
"Then it is a good thing they do not have a larger place," Ethan replied. He watched Sinatra, curiosity written in his eyes. She stared off to the side of his head and past their own shop's window, unnoticing the attention he paid to her. "I think this was a fruitful day," he continued. "Now that we have a scope on the enemies, we can open our own shop." He gestured vaguely to the walls around them. "Let us get started."