The Heist, Part 3

Monday, 12:14 PM

Maybe it was the subtle change in the air using magic caused. Maybe Annabelle Lee could hear the sound of Mami's musket being cocked. Maybe there was some sort of reflective surface that Mami couldn't see from where she was. Maybe it was just pure intuition. Either way, as soon as Mami had taken aim at the former Void Walker's head, Annabelle Lee froze in place. At first Mami thought that maybe she had seen something up ahead, another set of guards probably, but then she slowly raised her hands above her head and Mami realized that this was going to be even harder than she had dreaded.

"Er, hey," Annabelle Lee said without turning around. "You seem to be pointing a gun at my head."

Swallowing loudly, Mami nodded. Then she remembered that Annabelle Lee still couldn't see her and said, "Yes."

"Uh, mind telling me why? I mean, this is kinda preemptive, don't you think? I haven't even done anything yet."

Licking her dry lips, Mami whispered, "I'm sorry. Forgive me. I'm sorry."

Annabelle Lee coughed. "Well…seeing how you're still planning on shooting me anyway, forgiving you is…kind of a problem. What's up?"

God, why did Annabelle Lee have to figure it out? It made things so much worse. "I can't," Mami said. "I can't let you take them. I know you're going to betray us. I know you're going to take them to Reibey."

"Uh, no. We talked about this, remember? I'm doing this-"

"Stop lying!" Mami all but screamed. Her hands had started shaking, and she had to take a moment to steady them. "Please, stop lying," she said again, a bit more quietly this time. "I've been watching you. You're far too eager for someone on a simple revenge mission. And after what you said about wanting an escape, how obsessed you are and that you'll do anything to get it?" Mami sniffed and swallowed back the lump of guilt forming in her throat. "I know what you're up to, Annabelle Lee. There's no need to pretend anymore."

For a few torturously long seconds, Annabelle Lee said nothing. Though Mami couldn't see her face, it was apparent that the wheels were churning away in that twisted mind of hers.

And then the other girl sighed. Her hands stayed in the air, but her shoulders slumped, almost as if in defeat. "Oh, all right," she said. "Fine. You got me."

Mami blinked "What?"

"I said you got me. You're right. I am planning on betraying you." Then she slowly turned in place to face Mami. Her hands were still up, but there didn't seem to be much surrender in her the gesture anymore, especially considering the smirk on her face. "After all, it's like what you said: I really don't have anything to lose."

"Stay there!" Mami cried, taking a step back. Pull the trigger, her mind ordered. Just do it. She already confessed. "Turn back around, or I swear I'll shoot."

"I believe you," Annabelle Lee said nonchalantly. "But before you blow big holes in my chest, can I make just one itsy-bitsy counterpoint?"

Mami's neck tense up, and she could barely force out the word, "What?"

"There is no backup generator under the grocery store."

All things considered, that wasn't exactly the response Mami had been expecting. A threat, maybe. A breakdown on exactly why Mami would be unable to escape without her help. Maybe even a jab at Mami's already throbbing conscience. But this was enough of a left-field response to make Mami's mind trip over itself. She knew what it meant, of course. She just wasn't sure what the actual significance-

Wait.

Then something slammed into the small of her back.

Crying out in surprise, Mami staggered forward. Her fingers squeezed in reflex, which caused her musket to go off. The shot hit Annabelle Lee in the chest, knocking her clean onto her back.

Fortunately, the thing that had hit her had been unable to do any real sort of damage. Beneath her sweater, Mami was wearing one of the Persephone Protectorate's armored mesh undershirts. She had hidden that little detail from Annabelle Lee. Though she had always intended to strike first, it did pay to have as many advantages as possible.

Unfortunately whoever it was that was attacking her hadn't been discouraged. Before Mami could reorient herself, she was hit two more times, one to each shoulder. The shirt held, but the force was enough to knock her off her balance.

And that was when something slammed into the unprotected back of her hand, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground.

Fighting against the sense of shock flooding her mind, Mami tried to figure out what had happened to her. Had she been hit with some sort of hammer or a fist? It didn't seem like it had been a blunt force impact though. She tried to lift her hand, but found herself unable. When her vision cleared, she saw that a wickedly sharp knife with a golden handle and a silver blade had been driven cleanly through her hand and into the floor, pinning it in place. And then she understood.

Then she heard a groan. Though her eyes were clouding over, Mami was able to see Annabelle Lee sit painfully up, a ragged hole smoking over her breast. "Aw, damn it," she groaned as she clutched at it. "Always with the shirt." Mami gaped at her. Beneath the burned fabric, she could see the dull greyish-green weave of one of the Persephone Protectorate's protective undershirts, exactly the same as the one Mami was wearing. From the look of things, Mami's shot had warped the metal rings a bit, but they had held.

Glowering at the pinned blonde, Annabelle Lee rose up. "So hey, pro-tip from one traitor to the other," she hissed as she staggered over. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out a small but still very lethal looking handgun. "You wanna backstab someone, just do it. Don't waste time talking to them about it."

And then she shot Mami twice in the head.

…

Monday, 12:42 PM

Witness now, the phenomenon of bad decisions.

We all make them from time to time; some of us may find our lives defined by them. Some are small, such as choosing the slowest checkout line while buying groceries or neglecting the laundry one day too many. More often than not, these decisions result in nothing more than temporary inconvenience, something to roll one's eyes over but later forget, and life goes on.

Then there are the other kind. Acts of extreme recklessness. Heavy moral lapses. Unforgiveable carelessness. Betrayal. Evil. Decisions that wreak havoc, destroy lives, and cause horrific harm. Most of us are able to go our whole lives without making such decisions. Others do not. Some never recover.

Kyoko was no stranger to bad decisions. It seemed that her whole life was just one long series of one bad decision after another. Some of them small and unimportant, while others were of the other kind. Some had been made out of naiveté, others from maliciousness, and still others had been because she had been trying to do the right thing, only for it to blow up in her face.

Then there were the ones that she had been forced into. The ones in which she had been left with no other choice. The ones that put her in a bad situation, but she had gone through with it anyway because it had been the other options had been worse.

This was one of them. She had to do it. To do nothing would have been suicide. Kyoko had been left with no other choice.

But even when all of that is taken into consideration, and even though the alternatives were far worse, that didn't change the fact that pissing off the muscle-bound giant with poor anger management was a really bad decision.

Not two seconds into the fight, Kyoko found herself picked up like a stuffed animal, hoisted full over Brooklyn's head, and hurled all the way across the hall to hit the opposite wall like a thrown dart. She tried to turn her body around to meet the wall with her feet, but in her current state she couldn't complete the full rotation and ended up taking the impact on her ass and the back of her thighs. It hurt oh so very much, but not as much as it would have had she hit face-first. Probably.

Kyoko flopped to the ground and groaned in pain. Well, on the upside, at least Brooklyn had unintentionally put a fair amount of distance between them. Kyoko had always been quick to get her wind back, and was much more comfortable with mid-range combat than Brooklyn was. So long as she kept some space between them and avoided a close-quarters brawl, then she might have a-

Kyoko looked up and saw that, to her despair, the head of Brooklyn's hammer was shooting right for her, a burst of violet sparks spewing out in its wake. Oh. Well, so apparently Brooklyn could do that.

Instinct took over, and Kyoko threw up a wall of shield-plates. Just in time too, as the hammer's head slammed into the barrier with an ear-splitting clang! Kyoko fell back with a cry as her barrier shattered. As for the hammer head, it simply flipped around and headed back toward its master…

…who was currently charging right for Kyoko like an enraged bull. Brooklyn's nostrils were flaring, spittle was flying from the sides of her mouth, her face was now flushed deep purple, and her mad eyes were now red with fury. Each time her boots pounded against the metal floor was like a gunshot. Screaming hoarsely, she lifted the pole of her hammer and the head popped back in place in time for her to swing the whole at Kyoko's head.

As she was disinterested in playing the part of a watermelon at a beach party, Kyoko threw up another barrier. This one shattered as well, but it gave Kyoko time to create a third barrier, this one surrounding the head of Brooklyn's hammer as it came up again, anchoring it to a corner.

Of course Brooklyn could shatter Kyoko's barrier as easily as she had the other two, but the extra second or so would give Kyoko enough time to lung forward and plant a spear right through the big junkie's gut. Unfortunately, she forgot a couple things. One, she was now very, very tired, and throwing up all those shield-plates had drained her even further. As such, she was now moving much more sluggishly as she normally would. Second, as blinded by rage and withdrawals as she might be, Brooklyn's extraordinary reflexes did not seem to have suffered in the slightest. Seeing the spear coming, she twisted to one side, causing it to pass by harmlessly. Then she punched Kyoko in the face.

Kyoko almost passed out then. Spots flooded her vision and for a time she forgot how to think. When her eyes and her mind cleared enough for her to see, Brooklyn had her by the neck and was hoisting her fully off the ground with one hand, the other pulled back for a second swing.

When it came, there was nothing but a single solitary shield-plate waiting for it, all Kyoko had the strength to summon. However, unlike the others, this one wasn't facing the oncoming threat head-on. Rather, it was turned to its side. As such, when Brooklyn's fist connected, it didn't meet the flat, but one of the sharp corners.

From there, physics did the rest.

Bellowing, Brooklyn lurched back, purple vapor gushing out of her arm. Her hand and forearm had been split neatly in half, more than a third of the way down to the elbow. Cursing and screaming incoherently, she clutched at her wound, trying to get it to close.

Panting and sweating, Kyoko took the opportunity to run away, though in her condition all she could manage was a pitiful hobble. Still, she kept her hazy gaze focused on the door at the other end of the hall. If she made it there, she could recover Sayaka and lock the doors. And from there, well, she would have to improvise. For now, she just had to get the hell away from Brooklyn.

To her credit, she did manage to make it halfway there when most people would have passed out long before. But that was when something wrapped around her boot and jerked back, bringing her short. Looking back, she saw that she had been snagged by one of Brooklyn's weighted cords, the other end of which was clutched in the giant's good hand. With a roar, Brooklyn jerked back, and Kyoko went flying back the other way.

Brooklyn held her intact arm stiffly out. Kyoko hit it with her face, and with that, the fight was over.

As Kyoko lay motionless on the ground, she watched through swelling eyelids as Brooklyn stood hunched over, wheezing and gasping as she squeezed the two halves of her mangled arm together. All the while, Kyoko could do nothing but lie still and watch.

Get up, she told herself. Get up now, before you get your face crushed in.

The vapor flowing out of Brooklyn's arm looked odd. It sparkled and billowed in a jerky manner, one that reminded Kyoko of the strange stop-motion way witches would move. Was Brooklyn turning into a witch? Probably not. As she understood it, while witches could revert back to their monstrous state, there had yet to be a case of a Puella Magi witching out in the afterlife. So this probably had something to do with all those drugs she had been taking.

Stop thinking about stupid stuff and get up!

Apparently Brooklyn was a fast healer, because before too long the flow of sickly vapor started to taper off. Kyoko thought back to her first fight with Sayaka and how quickly the other girl had been able to get up. She wondered if Brooklyn had a similar deal going on. Probably, considering that she was pretty much a human cheat code already.

Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot! Get your ass UP!

Though come to think of it, wasn't Sayaka's recuperative abilities due to her wish being related to healing? If Brooklyn had something similar, could that mean-

Wait.

Get UP! Get UP! Get UP!

Kyoko blinked, groggily clearing her vision the best she could. Then she tried to move, to roll onto her stomach. Every centimeter of her body felt like it had a fifty kilo weight strapped to it, but she strained and pushed and managed to at least flop onto her side. Fortunately, the act of doing so woke her up a bit, and from there she was able to crawl over and shove her back against the wall. From there, she shoved herself up into a sitting position.

The two halves of Brooklyn's arm soon finished fusing together. With a grunt, the giant released her hold. She flexed her fingers a couple time and found them in satisfactory condition. Then she knelt down to pick up her hammer, which had fallen after Kyoko's barrier had vanished.

Gritting her teeth, Kyoko summoned up all the willpower she could, though not to fight. That was very much out of the question now. However, she did have one last trick. It was probably a very bad idea; in fact, it would probably result in her getting pounded into mush. But what the hell, that was about to happen anyway.

Kyoko had already tried to reason with Brooklyn, but that had gotten her nowhere. She had tried to fight her, and that also hadn't gone well. So she was left with one last option: pissing her off even more.

Thing was, Kyoko was an asshole. A recovering asshole, yes. An asshole who had become as such due to very understandable circumstances, sure. Someone who was trying very hard to stop being an asshole, most certainly. But she was still an asshole. Not only that, she was a smart asshole. She knew how to read people and gauge exactly what made them tick and how to best get under their skin. When she wanted to, she could push anyone's buttons, and Brooklyn was providing her with a whole freaking keyboard.

Lifting her hammer up, Brooklyn turned her attention to Kyoko. Her blind fury seemed to have ebbed off, or at least been refocused into something colder, which was far more deadly. She turned slowly, gaze zeroing on the smaller girl sprawled out before her.

"I am," she rasped, "gonna break every joint in your fucking body."

Kyoko believed her. "Okay," she managed to get out. Shoving her back higher against the wall, she said, "But before…you do, I got…one question."

Hissing, Brooklyn hefted her hammer high so that the spike scraped against the ceiling.

Moments away from being crushed, Kyoko played her last card. "When you got crippled and couldn't walk anymore, did anyone care?"

…

Monday, 11:16 PM

"That looks like quite the drop," Charlotte observed. She tilted her head to one side one, mentally trying to make the necessary calculations. "So, what do you think?"

Leaning on the assault rifle she had brought along, Arzt said, "I think we've already long established that you have absolutely no respect for what I think, so you asking me what I think is making me think that you think asking me what I think will make me stop thinking that you're an intolerant twat."

Wow, okay. So she was still going to be catty about that. Sighing, Charlotte decided to just let the comment slide and concentrate on the problem in front of them. The very, very deep problem.

Their increasingly uncomfortable trip through the city's lower levels had finally reached its end, which was both a relief and a cause for concern. A relief because from the look of things, it meant that the first part of their miserable journey was almost over. Granted, this was by far the cleanest sewer she had ever had the misfortune of having to crawl through, but it still smelled foul, and it was still horribly cramped. The latter part where they had to go through maintenance tunnels along the city's power grid had been easier, but it still wasn't exactly fun. Unfortunately, once they were done here, they were going to have to do it all over again. Here was hoping that there wasn't going to be any guards this time.

But the worst part of the trip hadn't been the smell, nor was it the lack of space or the danger. No, it was the company.

"All right," Charlotte said, taking a step back. She held out her right hand, fingers spread upward, and her golden wires leapt up out of the tips. "Well, I'm pretty sure I can swing the distance. So, how about you stay here and stand guard while I-"

Arzt obnoxiously cleared her throat. "Do you even know the slightest thing about explosives?"

Charlotte frowned. "These aren't explosives."

"The principle is the same, even if there is no actual bang," Arzt retorted. "And given that you have spent all seven of your post-mortem years lying on a beach with your fat bimbo of a wife, I'm going to guess that you don't know the on switch from the battery pack." Before Charlotte could fully register what she had said, Arzt had tossed her rifle at her, causing her to fumble around with her free hand to keep from dropping it.

"Stand guard until I'm done," Arzt said, pulling out a small black cylinder. "I'm sure someone with your limited processing can at least work out how a trigger works." With that, she flicked her wrist, and a white cord shot out of the cylinder to snap around an overhanging pipe.

Rather than keep watch as she had been instructed Charlotte watched without expression as her "partner" swung across the gulf. She looked down at the hand with the wires hanging out and saw that it was shaking. She then turned her attention to the rifle in her other hand.

Before they had even arrived in Marsters, she and Mami had had a short conversation, during which it was concluded that there was no way that they could trust their so-called allies. As such, rather than being taken down by the eventual betrayal, the only thing to do was beat them to the punch. Granted, Mami had felt a little sick at the idea, and even Charlotte hadn't exactly been comfortable with attacking someone unsuspecting. However, Arzt's little comment about Mami had just made things a little bit easier.

An image flashed through her mind: that of shooting Arzt full of holes and dropping her leaking corpse into the black abyss. It probably wouldn't be that difficult either. It wasn't like they needed her anymore, and the funny thing was that the only person that would object was Arzt's equally awful sister. Hell, even Annabelle Lee wouldn't have any objections even if Mami wasn't going to turn on her as well. And it wasn't like Arzt couldn't just climb her way out in a few minutes anyway. All Charlotte would have done is teach her a little respect. That's all, just a little lesson in not being such a terrible person. And given what Arzt had already done to them, no one could say it wasn't warranted.

Charlotte focused her gaze on Arzt's back. The former Void Walker was kneeling in front of something shaped like a log. In the limited light, Charlotte couldn't really make it out, but it was probably the generator. The hand holding the rifle twitched a bit, and she nodded. Yeah, Arzt really had this coming. The kidnapping attempt alone justified a little payback, and she was probably planning on sinking those little needles of hers into Charlotte's neck the moment her attention was diverted, and-

Wait, hold up.

Charlotte's eyes narrowed and her mind started racing. Come to think about it, Arzt really had gone for the jugular there. Okay, so they had already established that she was a thoroughly nasty person, but that didn't mean she wasn't a smart one. And what better way to get under Charlotte's skin than attack the person she loved the most? What if…

Charlotte took a deep breath. A sharp chill ran down her back.

What if she wanted Charlotte to become angry with her? What if by ensuring that Charlotte's attention was on her, Arzt was deliberately leaving her victim's back exposed? Charlotte hadn't thought to watch out for tails, given that Mami had Annabelle Lee covered and Nie and Ticky Nikki would be all the way at the grocery store. But what if they weren't? What if the grocery store was just a ruse and they had doubled back and-

"Shit," Charlotte muttered. Dropping the matter of Arzt for the time being, she quickly retracted her wires and slipped the backpack she was wearing from her shoulders. Keeping a shaky hold on the rifle with her arm, she unzipped the bag and pulled out her helmet, all the while cursing herself for not keeping it on. Stifling or not, she should have known better. Come to think of it, hadn't it been Arzt who had goaded her into taking it off?

As she raised it to her head, a depressingly familiar sounding gun went off, sparks flew, and the helmet went flying from her hands.

Oh God, she had been right. Charlotte instinctively raised her arms to protect her head. Nie shot four more times from the dark. Two whizzed by her face, while the other two hit her arms. She felt small burning impacts where they hit, but the armor mesh she was wearing under her jacket fortunately held.

"Arzt, you goddamned traitor!" Charlotte shouted, forgetting for a moment her own plans in that regard. She scrambled for the cover of some nearby pipes, bullets still chasing her. Her breath coming out in short, frenzied pants, she fumbled around for her rifle only to realize that it wasn't there. Her heart sinking, she peeked out and saw that she had left it behind with her backpack. Then she winced a bit when she saw that the pistol she had brought along was lying right next to it. Whoops.

Taking a deep breath, Charlotte tried to clear her head and think. Okay, so they had been right on the money about the Void Walkers setting them up. That is, assuming that it was Nie shooting at her. But who else could it be? Arzt had put those guards down pretty good and-

Oh.

Arzt.

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder at the small landing across the abyss. She could just make out the shape of the generator and the charges taped to it. Arzt, however, was nowhere to be found.

Ice water flooded her body as a horrible possibility started to occur to her. Her neck tensing up, Charlotte then looked up.

A wide, almost demonic grin slashing its way across her face, the vanquisher of the Persephone Protectorate's leader dropped from the ceiling right onto Charlotte, all five syringes extended. Charlotte lurched out of the way, and the needles scraped down her shirt, their tips screeching over her protective mesh. She tried to kick Arzt away, but the former Void Walker simply caught her leg and put it into some kind of wrestling hold. She twisted, and Charlotte cried out in pain.

In desperation Charlotte shot out wires from all ten fingers. Unfortunately Arzt had probably anticipated this and nimbly leapt away. Charlotte hobbled away from her the best she could, but then the shots started to ring out again.

"Wait!" she cried, covering her head with her hands. "Don't do th-"

Then something bit into her neck, and Charlotte stopped talking.

She blinked. Holding one hand to her neck, she stood up. Pink vapor was seeping out between her fingers. Hey now, how had that happened? Had she been shot?

She tried to take a step, but then her balance went screwy, and she ended up staggering back. Nie started shooting again, but this time they sounded oddly far away.

"Nie, stop!" Charlotte heard Arzt cry out. "She's too close to the edge!"

The edge? The edge of what? Unconsciousness? Well, that was a given, but why would Arzt want Nie to stop if that were the case? Didn't they want her to pass out? Seemed a little self-defeating if they asked-

Then her foot slipped, and she discovered exactly what edge Arzt was talking about when her body pitched over it.

…

Monday, 10:28 AM

For the second time in God knew how many hours, Kyoko found herself thrown roughly to the floor of the Brothel's control room, or whatever it was. In testament to her dilapidated state, she took the fall without her usual grace and ended up mashing her nose against the ground.

Wincing as her already achy head starting throbbing with renewed vigor, she blinked several times and looked around. From what she could tell, the place had seen better days. Large craters and gouges were spread over the walls and floor, and more than one of the computers had been smashed to bits. Over in one wall, an entire circuit board had been wretched loose and was now in pieces, wires sparking. And as for the big screen, it had been smashed to fragments. Even as drained as she felt, it didn't require much brainpower for Kyoko to figure out who was responsible for the room's radical redesign.

"Of course," she heard someone mumble. Turning her head to one side, she saw the Brothel's winged alien, Kisa, lying next to her. The vekoo looked quite annoyed by the damage done to her control, though not as distressed as one might have been in her position. She paid for it a second later when the thug standing over her dug her boot into the back of Kisa's neck. "Hey!" the thug shouted. "No talking, all right?"

Rolling her eyes, Kyoko twisted around to check on Sayaka, who had been dropped to her other side. The mermaid looked very tired. Her eyes were sunken into their dark bags and her skin had an unhealthy pale sheen. Kyoko couldn't tell if she was still mad at her, though from the look of things the effort of keeping her eyes open had taken the edge off of her ire. Though she still believed that Sayaka had tremendously overreacted, Kyoko found herself sympathizing, as despite their situation she just wanted their business here to wrap up so they could be taken back to the storeroom and she could get some sleep.

It didn't take long to spot the one responsible for the room's condition. Brooklyn was pacing back and forth in front of the big monitor, which had curiously survived her temper tantrums. One hand was dragging her great warhammer behind her, its spiked head scraping loudly across the floor. With the other, she was making a greasy mess of her purple Mohawk, her meaty fingers agitatedly working the strands.

The nutso was in desperate need of a fix; Kyoko could judge that at once. And from the look of things, crazy drops really took their toll on abusers. Her thick neck was twitching while her mouth worked itself around endless nonsensical syllables. Kyoko grimaced, her body involuntarily tensing up. She had seen firsthand what withdrawals could do to a person, especially the nastier stuff. And she was willing to bet that crazy drops were meaner than anything the world of the living could cook up. And considering Brooklyn's sheer size, Kyoko thought it best to keep the sass under control.

Brooklyn didn't even react when her prisoners had been brought in. The three henchwoman waited for a few seconds, no doubt hoping that she would notice them on her own. When that failed to happen, they all exchanged uneasy glances. Then they did a quick game of Rock Paper Scissors over Kyoko's head. Two scissors to a paper, and the one that had kicked Kisa's neck nervously made her way over to her unstable boss.

"Er, hey Brooklyn," she said. "We brought the-Ack!" She leapt back to avoid having her head caved in when Brooklyn suddenly swung her hammer right at her.

"WHAT!" Brooklyn roared.

"Th-the prisoners!" the unlucky patsy cried, quickly pointing to the bound trio. "We brought them like you said!"

Kyoko let out a low whistle through her teeth. Well, damn.

Brooklyn stared at the girl she had nearly squashed for a moment longer, as if trying to decide if she wanted to try to hit her again. Then she looked up and saw Kyoko, Sayaka, and Kisa. "Huh?" she said. Then the confusion seemed to clear a bit, and she said, "Oh. Oh right. Well, what are you waiting for, you idiots! Get them over here!"

Her thugs quickly rushed in to obey, and Kyoko and her companions were hoisted off the floor and hauled over to be dropped in front of Brooklyn. After that, everyone was quick to put as much distance between Brooklyn and themselves as they could.

Brooklyn knelt down, her splotchy violet eyes trying to focus on Kisa. "Hey," she growled. "Bird."

For her part, Kisa just looked bored. "Yes?" she said.

"Look," Brooklyn said. "We've…we've got a problem. See now. What we're gonna do…what we're going do is call your bosses. We're gonna call them, you see?"

"I see," Kisa said. "We are going to contact my superiors within the Brothel hierarchy."

Brooklyn visibly shivered at the word "Brothel." Licking her lips, she nodded. "Yeah."

"And what, pray tell, are we going to tell them?"

"Nothin'. See, you are…We're gonna have you tell them. Say that all this was…was a mistake. Okay? And they're come and take you back. You'll go away with them, we go our own way, nobody gets mad at nobody. Okay?"

While Kisa did an admirable job of keeping her face serene, the several seconds she spent staring back at Brooklyn's crazy eyes conveyed just how much respect she was harboring for the giant girl's intelligence. "Sure," she said at last.

Brooklyn brightened. "Really? You'll do it?"

"If it gets me out of here faster, fine," Kisa said.

"Heh. Well, heh." Brooklyn all but slumped with relief. "Great. That's, uh, that's real great! You're a trooper, you know that?" she proclaimed, chucking the vekoo in the chin. "A real trooper!" Kisa, it should be noted, looked less than pleased with Brooklyn's display of affection. She also looked like she was probably going to be sporting a nasty bruise before too long.

All but braying with laughter, Brooklyn then turned her attention to Kyoko. "So hey, little girl!" she said jovially. "Guess what? You and the cripple're going too!"

Despite Brooklyn' bizarre fixation on Sayaka being a cripple, Kyoko actually perked up a bit at that. "Really?" she said.

"Yup!" Brooklyn said proudly. "See…see, what we're going to do is…See, we figure…that since…" Her head started to nod, and Kyoko could also literally see her train of thought slipping of the rails.

"Figure that…" Kyoko prompted. This earned her some surprised grimaces from the nearby gangsters. Apparently, Brooklyn frowned on others talking out of turn. Realizing her mistake, Kyoko couldn't help but cringe a bit.

Fortunately, there wasn't any imminent violence, and Brooklyn managed to snap back into concentration, at least somewhat. "Right! See, we figure that, since the Brothel was keeping you all, you know, in jail, that means if we give them to you…I mean give you to them, it'll make them happier with us!" With that said, she grinned proudly, displaying two rows of chrome teeth.

That actually wasn't the great news that Brooklyn might have imagined it to be, as that only meant that they would get stuck into another Brothel cell until Oblivion sent someone to pick them up. Even while being held by someone as increasingly unstable as Brooklyn, they at least had a chance of turning the situation around. "Fantastic," she said without enthusiasm.

Apparently she ought to have sounded happier, as Brooklyn's foggy eyes narrowed a bit. "Hey," she said, reaching over to painfully grip Kyoko's chin with her sausage-link fingers. "Hey," she growled. "You being smart with me, little girl?"

In the interest of not getting squashed to a misty pulp, Kyoko refrained from pointing out that being smart with Brooklyn was something that just couldn't be helped, mustered up as much humility as she could muster and mumbled out, "No. Not trying…be smart." The fleshy vice squeezing her jaw made getting the words out difficult, but she managed.

Brooklyn's scowl deepened, and for a moment it seemed that everyone in the room was holding their breath. Then one of the gangsters working what remained of the computers who apparently had not noticed how dangerously close to snapping her boss had suddenly become called out, "Brooklyn, we're on!"

Brooklyn's hand tore away from Kyoko's face so abruptly that it nearly took a layer of skin. "WHAT!" she bellowed.

It was actually sort of impressive how quickly she was able to get off her haunches, whirl around, and close the distance between her and the unfortunate interrupter. Kyoko also found a bit of amusement in that she was still able to see said interrupter's widen with horror as she came to realization that, A: she had pissed of her crazy boss, and B: her boss was now charging straight at her. Regardless, she soon found herself as Kyoko's replacement, with her spine slammed back against the wall and her feet dangling a full meter above the ground.

"You…" Brooklyn seethed out through clenched teeth, her nostrils flaring with rage. "You fucking dare interrupt me…"

"B-but we're on!" the unfortunate cried. "You told me to tell you when we're on!"

Shaking her head in disbelief, Kyoko couldn't help but wonder why in the hell Brooklyn hadn't been arrested, fell victim to a coup, or otherwise wasn't showing off her brand new cement shoes to the local lake dwellers. It was like with every passing second she slipped further and further into lunacy, and not the fun sort. She had impressive physical gifts and presence, yes, but there was only one of her.

"This really doesn't reflect well on us," she heard someone mumble. Turning her head, she saw Kisa staring at the unfolding drama with a look of sheer contempt.

"What, getting taken over?" Kyoko muttered back.

"No, that sort of thing happens. Getting taken over by her, on the other hand…"

On that at least, they were in perfect agreement. Checking first to see if anyone was paying attention, Kyoko said, "So hey, what happens to us? I mean, after your people come here and…take you back and all."

Kisa let out a long and wear sigh. "I genuinely do not care. That will be up to my superiors."

"Yeah, but-"

"You don't matter," Kisa growled. Her natural vekoo voice was already on the raspy side, but her irritation had dropped it a few additional octaves. "You never have. Just a loose end, that's all. And if you think otherwise, then you're as big a fool as Brooklyn."

Before Kyoko could retort, Sayaka had pushed herself up on her elbows to glower at the vekoo over Kyoko's shoulder. "Hey, there's a couple people that might disagree with that, don'cha think?"

Kisa's smile was stiff but malicious. "They don't know you're here."

Kyoko and Sayaka both glared, but had no reply.

Over at the other end of the room, Brooklyn had yet to calm down. In fact, the exact opposite was true. "On what?!" Brooklyn spat into the face of the girl she was throttling. "We're on fucking what?"

If the answer to that question wasn't literally 'crazy drops,' Kyoko might have sarcastically offered that name anyway. As it was, the fact that she didn't have to come up with some sort of stupid name suddenly struck her as utterly hilarious, and as exhausted as she was, it took up most of her fraying concentration not to lose herself to a giggling fit.

"The Brothel!" the techie all but screamed, or would have had she full use of her windpipe. "You…told me…t'call them!"

That brought Brooklyn's rage to a sudden halt, and fear quickly stepped in to replace it. "The Brothel?" she said hoarsely. Her fingers relaxed, and the techie dropped to the ground, where she started wheezing. "They're here?"

Shaking her head, the techie gasped out, "N-no. But now in contact-"

Brooklyn seized her up again, this time by the collar. "Can they hear us?" she demanded. "Can they see us?"

"No! But they're waiting."

"Waiting," Brooklyn mused, as if she had never heard that word before. "They're waiting…" Then her face turned bright purple, and she snapped, "Well, what's the hold up, then? Put them on, you fucking idiot!"

As Brooklyn ranted and raved about the quality of help she had to put up with, the techie scrambled over to one of the surviving consoles to obey. No sooner did her hand fall onto the control then a very deep and very resonant voice boomed through the room: "Ms. McNally."

Brooklyn froze in place. Swallowing, she stammered out, "Y-yeah?"

Even though she was exhausted, bound up, and being held by a madwoman, Kyoko found herself very glad that at least that voice wasn't directed toward her. Though it was calm and professional, it was evident that it belonged to someone who was probably at least as large as Brooklyn was, and furthermore was most displeased. She glanced over to Kisa. Though the alien's face wasn't all that flexible, the look in her eyes was practically radiating smugness.

"I am Veren, overdom of the Brothel's local franchise. As I understand, you recently have saw fit to take something of mine."

Brooklyn winced at that, and Kyoko grinned. As shitty as she felt at the moment, she was not unable to enjoy the pain of someone she disliked.

"Well, yeah, b-but it's all a mistake!" Brooklyn said. Her arms and shoulders were already shaking from withdrawals, but now their trembling had taken on a whole new level. She gripped the handle of her warhammer like a treasured teddy bear. "See, I didn't know that-"

"I also understand that you wish to parlay for the return of my people. A surprising request as such things go, but as things are a bit a bit on the hectic side right now, I am willing to talk."

Apparently as much as Brooklyn had wanted to hear those words, she had expected more in the way of resistance. "What?" she said, blinking stupidly.

"Precisely what I said," Veren intoned. "However, in light of the circumstances, I must insist on a face-to-face."

As she listened to the exchange, Kyoko screwed her face up in bewilderment. A face-to-face? The entire building was being held hostage and was on lock-down, there was practically a literal war going on outside, and from what she was able to pick up, the closest Brothel outpost was still quite a ways away. How and why would they even pull such a meeting off?

Apparently Brooklyn felt the same, as she immediately began stuttering, "I, uh, don't know how, are you here?"

"Nonsense. Visual communication will suffice."

Brooklyn cast a look at the shattered screen. "That's, uh, gonna be a problem."

"Yes, I am aware that you have damaged much of our equipment. However, as I understand it, the holographic transceiver is still functional. That will more than suffice."

"Holo…Uh, sure! Why not?" Brooklyn whirled to face her unlucky tech, who was still massaging her throat. "TURN THE DAMNED THING ON!" she bellowed, spittle flying.

Apparently not wanting to be on the receiving end of another throttling, the tech rushed to obey.

The air in the middle of the room started to shimmer. Lights appeared, clustered together, took shape and color. And then Kyoko realized just how badly she needed to reconfigure her sense of scale.

"Oh my God," she said.

She wasn't the only one. The members of Brooklyn's gang were also taken back by what was now standing in their midst, though from the look of things they knew exactly what it was, and that knowledge scared them.

"Wh-what?" Sayaka gasped, all tiredness gone from her sea-blue eyes. "What is that thing?"

Kisa, the only person in the room seeming to be fully at ease, let out a harsh, cheeping laugh. "What's the matter, human?" she sneered. "Never seen a vaskergoros before?"

"We're kind of new," Kyoko said, still staring. For the time being, she wasn't even willing to blink. "Is that some other kind of alien?"

This earned her a sour look. "Yes, human," Kisa said contemptuously. "That is another alien. As are we all."

To say that the image of Veren towered over everyone gathered would be a crude understatement. Even as big as Brooklyn was, she only came up to the Brothel leader's navel. Standing nearly four meters tall, the tip of the vaskerogoros' ears nearly brushed the high ceiling. Apparently she favored human fashion, as she was dressed in a sharp black double-breasted suit, specifically tailored for her build and number of limbs. Even without it, she would have cut an incredibly imposing figure. With it, she conveyed that she was a being in possession of power in the physical sense as well as authority.

She was clearly not someone to be screwed with. Even Brooklyn seemed small and unimportant in her presence, which was probably the reason for insisting on being visible. Her four thick arms clasped behind her massive back, Veren glowered down at the cowering humans, the tips of her tusks gleaming like daggers. After silently scanning each individual face and making them quail in turn, she turned her focus on the one responsible for the current mess.

"Brooklyn McNally, I presume," Veren rumbled.

Brooklyn opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out were whimpers.

Veren scowled. Then she took a single step forward. Brooklyn all but fell over herself to get out of her way. However, Veren wasn't going anywhere. Instead, she hunkered down onto one knee, one of her lower arms resting across her thigh, eyes staring daggers into Brooklyn's terrified gaze.

"Well, you wished to speak to me, and here I am," Veren said. "Explain yourself, young lady."

In the twisted madness of the situation, Kyoko actually found herself liking the hulking monstrosity with the impeccable fashion sense. Sure, she was a pitiless criminal who would probably be personally handing Kyoko and Sayaka over to Reibey before too long, but that was neither here nor now. And at the moment, anyone capable of reducing Brooklyn into a quivering wreck was worth rooting for.

"Ah," Brooklyn panted. She sat flat on her ass, upper body leaning back, legs splayed and eyes wide with naked terror. "Ah, ah, ah."

Veren's eyes narrowed. "I would advise that you not waste my time. Your future already stands balanced on the tip of a knife."

"Heh," Brooklyn responded. "Heh heh heh. HeheheheheheHAHAHAHA!"

As everyone watched in stunned disbelief, the swaggering leader of the 36th Street Walkers lost her mind completely. She hunkered over, fingers clutching at her sweaty scalp and tears streaming out of her eyes while she laughed. And laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed.

Veren watched dispassionately as Brooklyn continued to giggle and gibber to herself like an overly caffeinated infant. "Well," she said at last. "This is going nowhere." Rising to her feet, she looked around. "Is there anyone here capable of coherent speech?"

No one volunteered. In fact, most of Brooklyn's cronies were busy having minor breakdowns of their own, albeit a bit more subdued. Kyoko could only watch in fascination. Sure, this Veren was big and scary and all, but good God. What the hell was the Brothel?

Finally Kisa took the opportunity to clear her throat with a raspy cough and call out, "Overdom."

Seeing her, Veren's heavy brow furrowed. She strode over. "Ah, well. What do we have here?"

Straightening up the best she could despite her bonds, Kisa said, "I am Kisa of the third clutch of Nel of Crystal Rain Towers, and current speaking representative of the Brothel's interests in Marsters."

There was a very long and very noticeable pause before Veren responded with a simple, "I see." Kyoko frowned. Was Veren simply annoyed to see her subordinate tied up and helpless, or was there something else going on? She tried to force her tried mind to suss out a possible explanation while mentally cursing her fatigued state.

"And who are these?" Veren said, nodding first to Sayaka and then to Kyoko.

"Acquisitions," Kisa responded, though not before shooting the two humans warning looks. "Sent to us from the Persephone Protectorate before their organization collapsed. However, the riots occurred before they could be passed on or our clients even contacted."

"Ah. And in regards to the rest of your…staff?"

"All present and accounted for, and in satisfactory condition. They are currently being held in the second floor storage room."

"Good to hear. And the product?"

"Destroyed, save for personal arms, which have been confiscated and distributed for full guard use. Also, all records have been purged and all documents and data chips destroyed as well."

"Excellent. Though I'm a bit surprised to find you in the position you are in now. I was under the impression that the building was covered by a Craytech security field. Is that no longer the case?"

Kisa looked disgruntled. "The documents released by the Persephone Protectorate included the system's semantics, including the location of the backup generator. Our…hosts took advantage of our moment of vulnerability."

"That's unfortunate. And the system itself?"

"Presumably back online."

It was then that Kyoko started to catch on. Kisa was essentially giving Veren a full debriefing on the situation right under Brooklyn's nose, and the overgrown idiot was so brain-fried that she wasn't even noticing. No wonder Kisa was so embarrassed about having been beaten by her.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Veren said. "Though as I understand it, the babbling degenerate over there has a proposition for me."

Kisa sighed. "Yes, she does. Were she capable of speech, she would inform you that this whole debacle is nothing more than a terrible misunderstanding."

"She attacked our holdings and assaulted our people. That seems to be quite self-explanatory to me."

"True," Kisa nodded. "However, it is her claim that she was unaware that this was a Brothel location, and we were simple drug runners. Now that she has learned of her error, she wishes to convey her sincerest apologies and is fully willing to release all hostages and abandon the premises in its…current condition."

"And in return, I suppose she wishes that we forgive this transgression and not chastise her and her gang for this oversight?"

"Exactly."

Bullshit, Kyoko thought. Brooklyn and her gang had made the Brothel look weak. There was no way in hell the Brothel was going to let this slide. Kisa had just gotten done telling her boss everything they needed to know to put a sudden and violent end to the 36th Street Walkers' occupation of their property. And even if any of Brooklyn's gang managed to escape in the chaos, they would be hunted down and vanished before the end of the week. Hell, Brooklyn herself was probably going to end up as the next batch of crazy drops once everything was said and done.

"I see," Veren said. She made a big show of thinking things over before announcing, "That poses a problem, I'm afraid. Ms. McNally has offered us a grave insult, and we prefer not to make a habit of letting such things simply slide."

"Wait!" Apparently that was enough to penetrate Brooklyn's laughing fit, as she immediately barreled over and all but threw herself at Veren's illusionary feet. "Wait, wait, you can't!"

"Can we not?" Veren said, her tone making it very clear that yes, they could do whatever the hell they wanted.

"It wassa accident, I swear!" Brooklyn gibbered. Tears were streaming down her face and snot flowing from her nose as she pleaded with what had to be the first person to ever tower over her. "I'll go, give you all your stuff back, never bother you again! Jus' don't come after me!"

Veren idly picked at her teeth. It was clear that she was enjoying herself. "I prefer not to make exceptions."

"C'mon, please! I'm sorry, please!"

Kyoko turned her head to avoid attracting attention. She had to admit, it was growing difficult not to smile. Yeah, they were still in a bad situation, and yeah, Veren was an even bigger bad guy than Brookyln would ever be, in just about every possible sense. But damn, watching the big jerk getting cut down so effectively was an absolute joy to watch.

She glanced over to Kisa, who was sitting in silence as her boss did the talking. However, unlike Kyoko, the vekoo wasn't even bothering to mask how much fun she was having.

Veren took her own sweet time coming to a decision. The whole while, she made a big show of thinking it over, turning her head this way and that while making thoughtful noises. All the while, Brooklyn pleaded and babbled at her feet. If the vaskergoros were actually solid, Brooklyn would no doubt be pulling at her pant leg.

Her mouth still twitching, Kyoko looked away from the exchange for just a moment. Then she frowned. Brooklyn's gang had retreated from the drama entirely to gather at the back of them room. With Brooklyn's attention no long on them, they were taking the time to hold a furious whispered debate.

Though she couldn't hear what was being said, Kyoko paid special attention to the expressions passing over their faces and the gestures they were making with their hands. The glances they were shooting their groveling leader were especially telling. Now Kyoko had to grin a little. Apparently, all was not well within Brooklyn's ranks. She knew mutiny in the making when she saw one.

Veren, however, couldn't have cared less. Finally she finished dragging things out and said with great reluctance, "Oh, very well."

Brooklyn's face lit up immediately. "Really?"

"Things are too chaotic to bother with that sort of thing right now, and I would prefer to wrap things up as efficiently as possible," Veren said to her.

Veren was a half-decent actor, but Kyoko knew bullshit when she heard it. Her eyes had travelled halfway up around their sockets before she remembered that such expressions would draw undue attention to herself.

Brooklyn, however, was just so relieved that she wasn't the slightest bit suspicious. "Oh God, thank you, thank you!"

"We will send further instructions within the hour," Veren said crisply. "As for our people, I must insist that they-"

"Liar!"

Veren stopped in mid-sentence. Blinking her dark, beady eyes in surprise, she turned her head to gaze down at the one responsible for the interruption.

She wasn't the only one. Pretty much everyone had turned to stare at the person in shock. Kyoko was especially taken off guard. Sayaka, however, didn't seem to care. She just ignored all the eyes on her to glare defiantly at the behemoth standing over her, or at least as defiantly as one could while being bound and sprawled on the floor while being a mere fraction of the size of the thing you were trying to show defiance toward.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" Kisa croaked.

Paying her no heed, Oktavia continued to shout up at Veren. "You're lying! You're not planning on letting them go. You're gonna storm in here and take out every freaking one of them, aren't'cha?"

For her part, Veren did not seem angered by the accusation. Rather, she was simply puzzled. "Young lady," she rumbled. "I don't know what your problem is-"

"My problem is that you're a lying liar!" Sayaka shouted back. Turning her head toward the dumbstruck Brooklyn, she snapped, "Don't you get it? The Brothel's not going to let you go! You embarrassed them, and now they're coming to get you! They just want you to lie down for them first."

"No," Veren sighed.

"They're gonna drag you out of here and, I don't know, turn you into crazy drops! Someone's gonna be smoking you by the end of the week!"

"You don't smoke crazy-"

"Hey!" Sayaka then turned her attention toward the gangsters gathered at the other end of the room. "You hear this? Your boss is gonna just give you over to the Brothel! She's gonna to give you over to the Brothel!"

Sighing again, Veren turned away and spoke to someone out of sight. "Okay, kill transmission. Kill-"

The transmission was killed. Sayaka's tirade, however, was not.

"Seriously, how can you trust that scumbag?" she demanded. "You know she's playing you! Why would she let you go?"

"Uh, Sayaka?" Kyoko said, forgetting for a moment not to call her that. "I agree with everything you're saying, but this may not be the best time to-"

And then Brooklyn's fists came down.

…

Monday, 2:10 PM

Being mayor was a thankless job. Long hours, sleepless nights, endless responsibility, tasked with responsibility over problems that were mind-numbingly boring but absolutely had to be solved, and virtually no recognition for your hard work. Unless you were a former celebrity or involved in something truly spectacular, it was quite possible that most of the people living in your city did not even know your name, and even those that had voted for you had lost interest a few months into your term. So long as you kept the status quo running, they paid you no heed, and no appreciation.

Of course, all that changes when something goes wrong. Then it seems that everyone not only knows your name, but is able to describe in great detail how everything is your fault, whether through something you did or being unable to predict events beyond your control. It didn't matter if a previously undetected volcano had suddenly thrust itself out of the ground without warning and swallowed most of the downtown, you will be the one to blame.

Such was the case of Megan Smith, mayor of Marsters. Prior to the release of the Persephone documents, she had lived her life in relative obscurity. Oh sure, more people knew who she was, especially in comparison to the world of the living. Electoral terms tended to be rather long in the afterlife, time enough to become a staple of even the largest of communities. However, very few had cared. Even Marsters' notorious crime problem had become routine.

Then the documents had been released, and everything went to hell.

She had not slept since the news about Starlight Motors had broken. Her phone had been ringing nonstop, with any number of hysterical people demanding to know what she was going to do and whether or not she had been in on the Brothel's activities. Fortunately, while Megan had history with the Brothel, this Lily person had either not been able to uncover them or the evidence had been lost in the chaos. That hadn't stopped the admittedly accurate accusations though. Even if she did manage to restore order, it was clear that her political career was over.

However, all of that had to wait. She had a mess to deal with, and little idea of how to clean it up. As such, when her phone rang near mid-afternoon, she almost ignored it. Whoever it was, they could wait.

Then she saw the caller ID and her face paled. She gulped and reached out with one shaking hand to answer.

"H-Hello?" she said.

"Madam Mayor," said the deep, guttural voice of Veren, overdom of the local Brothel franchise. Which essentially made her the most powerful person for a rather large number of miles.

Megan had of course been contacted by the Brothel quite a few times over the last few days. Though they (thank God) did not hold her accountable for the Persephone Protectorate's failings, they were a bit put out about having their operations compromised and the peril their outpost in Marsters was currently under. She had told them time and time again that they were doing everything they could to keep the rioters from destroying their property, but given that exactly nobody liked the local marshals at the moment, keeping control of the situation was becoming a problem, and oh by the way would they please just goddamned evacuate already? Because that seriously would help a lot.

Unfortunately, though they had revealed little during those short correspondences, Megan had gotten the impression that something else was at play, something that was preventing the Brothel from removing their people from the area. She might have investigated further, but the situation was barely leaving her any room to breathe.

"Overdom," Megan sighed. She braced herself for another impeccably polite tongue-lashing.

"I believe I may have a solution to our current problem."

Megan frowned. "I…You're going to have to be more specific."

"As you've no doubt gleaned, certain…complications have rendered it impossible for us to remove our people from the area. And so long as we remain in the area, the situation will only grow worse, for both of us."

In that, Megan was in complete agreement. "So can you get them out of there?" she said through clenched teeth. "Please?"

"I believe so. However, I will require your assistance to do so."

Of course she did. "What do you mean?" Megan said, her tone guarded.

"I need for you to storm Starlight Motors and arrest us."

Megan blinked. "Pardon?"

"It's what they want, isn't it? The rioters? Well, give them what they want."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up," Megan said. "You want us to go in there and put you all under arrest? Really? Look, I know you have a lot of pull with the prisons, but there's no way we can-"

"Oh, we could. But fortunately we won't have to," the vaskergoros said smugly. "You see, Starlight Motors has unfortunately been the victim of a hostile takeover."

"What?"

"Yes, quite regrettable. Are you familiar with the 36th Walkers?"

Megan was, actually. Anyone at all educated on the local gang scene was. "And they took over your building?"

"Well, the chaos had left us quite vulnerable. Still, it wasn't exactly our proudest moment. Fortunately, opportunity does knock at the oddest of times."

"Yes, it does," Megan said, thoughtfully rubbing her chin. "So, right now, your outpost is being held by the 36th Street Walkers, and I assume that you people are being used as hostages…"

Though she couldn't see Veren's face, it was obvious that the vaskergoros crime boss was smiling. "I think that in light of the Persephone Protectorate's horrible soul harvesting, rescuing hostages from those awful criminals that did business with them would be something that everyone would want to see."

"Indeed, indeed," Megan mused. "The Walkers take the fall. And once we've gotten the hostages safely away…"

"Precisely."

Megan nodded. "Of course, there's still the problem with the Militia. The public doesn't exactly trust them anymore."

"Then suspend the lot of them and call in the Territorial Guard. They don't need to know the specifics."

"True enough." They could just gas everyone inside to begin with. It would prevent any awkward questions. "And any incriminating evidence?"

"Gone before they get there. You have my word."

Nodding again, Megan reached for a datapad. "All right, you got a deal. Tell me what I need to know."

"Of course. Oh, and before we begin, I should point out that your people will find a couple of human girls among the bodies, both Japanese. One is a Puella Magi with long red hair and slight build, the other a witch with short blue hair and medium build, her lower half being that of a large marine animal. A mermaid, I believe such hybrids are called."

"Yes? What about them?"

"They were assets that we were intending to pass along to certain clients of ours," Veren told her. "Nothing terribly important. Still, we would greatly appreciate getting them back."

Megan shuddered. She had always known that doing any sort of business with the Brothel meant heavily soiling her own soul, to the point where she was actually glad to be cosigned to this purgatory rather than face judgment for her sins. She was willing to do it though; the benefits were simply too good. However, she also knew that the Brothel was involved in stuff that not even she would be willing to stoop to. And given this whole mess with the leechers, she had no doubt that whatever fate awaited these two girls, it was probably not something she wanted to know about.

Keeping her voice as level as possible, Megan said, "O-of course. Any, ah, particular condition you would like them to be?"

"None whatsoever. That I leave fully to your discretion."

…

So hey, show of hands. Who here has ever decided to take a little time off and relax by working on a fun little side-project that was only supposed to be a few pages long and last a week or two only for it to keep going and going until you ended up with a hundred and twenty page monster that took two months to finish, all so you could write about cute monster girls going to a theme park?

…

I'm the only one with their hand up, aren't I?

…

Darn.

Anyway, yeah. That's what I've been up to. Also had to go off my sleeping pills at the same time, so still working on how to get past that. Though hey: if anyone likes Resonance Days, or you just like Madoka Magica, or even just cute monster girls going to wacky theme parks together, maybe go give Walpurgis Nights a shot? Link's on my profile, latest update was the one occupying my attention, and I really like how it came out, so yeah.

Until next time, everyone!