"I got what you asked for, miss."
Viper eyes lit up at the rolls of newspapers and random paperbacks the man -older boy?- presented them.
Comics. Specifically funny comics and literature he could get his hands on, exactly as they'd told him.
Positivity.
"Great. Put it on the table." They stepped aside for him to do so and Fossette eagerly rushed into him. He'd surprisingly grown fond of Joey quickly, though by the speed which he had also trusted them, it might not be so shocking after all.
Joey was one of their contacts, in the lower brackets that were more or less just errand boys.
Mentally, they had different categories for their contacts, divided between their various persona, but they were mainly split between their civilian identities and then their Mafia minions. Generally, their main purpose were just things that Viper couldn't do themself because it required more than two people at two places at the same time.
(Or things they were too lazy to do themself.)
And then there were the levels depending on the tasks they could be trusted with.
In descending order: Scouts. Watchers. And gofers.
The civilian persona simply had gofers to run trivial errands from various places around the world whenever they dropped by. Mostly street kids or any idle person they happened to pick up.
Then, under Esper Viper, there were the ones who's only job were to keep a look out, noting anything suspicious happening in their area, a classification that mainly consisted of civilians or 'retired' mafioso -in exchange for Viper helping them to retain that retired status. In the opposite spectrum, there were their more active informants, carefully handpicked by them, people who wanted to make something of themself in the Mafia and with skills they determined were up to par.
It was a pretty nice network they had built up through the years from what it had been when they... inherited it.
"Here." Viper handed him a roll of cash as they passed him by, poking at the papers.
"Thanks, miss." He said, pocketing it. Grinning, he knelt down to scratch Fossette behind an ear.
"Mu~," They blinked down at a superman comic strip, "Say, Joey, what do you do for fun?"
"Fun?... play, I guess."
Viper looked up, "Play what?"
He shrugged, "Games. Tag with some of the other kids, but I like board games."
Board games required more than one person.
"Oh," They crossed their arms, a hip against the table as Viper watched him pull up Fossette to stand on two legs, dancing, "How goes that community house you were planning?"
"Fine. It's thanks a lot to miss. I bought a complex, and I live with the other kids there now. Honestly, if we'd stayed on the streets longer, the mafia might've picked us up." He laughed, if a bit dryly.
Viper cleared their throat, "I see. You can go now."
He nodded and waved goodbye at the door.
Fossette ran at them, throwing them back into the bed. More so because Viper didn't want to hurt him by resisting the force.
"We'll go walk later, Fossy. For now, let me read." Viper rolled on their front, legs lightly kicking in the air behind them.
While there were bits that were certainly entertaining, as expected the truly good punchlines were few and far in between. Viper sighed. Not enough for daily doses of positivity.
The paperbacks were too long, more appropriate for reading before bed. Viper thought it was better to start the day equipped with necessary energy for sanity.
They sighed, getting up to feed Fossette.
Honestly, Viper doubted they were doing this right. They felt rather ridiculous stumbling into something like this, and some sort of shame for even trying.
After all, their lifestyle didn't need any amount of sanity, they were functional, but... just- they wanted to be sane. They didn't actually want to let go of their sense of worth, both of themself and everyone else.
And it was difficult because it wasn't as if Viper had a definite bar to show that they hit their quota.
It wasn't for a better life or to be 'normal'. They just wanted to preserve that part of themself that hadn't succumbed to a helpless mindset of 'everyone eventually dies, so there's no point in even trying'.
Maybe there was pride there too, some kind of self-respect that just would not let them sink that low.
But it was so difficult.
Just a few days and they'd already ran out of juice.
They already had Fossette, he could tide them over, certainly.
But being overly dependant wasn't sane, was it?
Others were good, but Viper needed to fix something inside themselves.
Like, filling a hollowed wall, pouring in cement to patch it up. The necessary tools were required, but you didn't leave a shovel stuck inside to keep the wall from collapsing.
"Come on, let's get some fresh air." They wrap his leash around their hand.
They had contacted people to get their future beach estate set up and they were just waiting for everything to be prepared before they depart for Manhattan. In the meantime, Renato and Luce had left the perimeter and they saw no need to move.
Passing by some room playing 'over the rainbow', Viper hummed to it under their breath.
"...Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true..."
Music was a form of positivity too.
Viper didn't hate singing, so it couldn't make their mood worse. They could use a phone and earphones though.
"...Someday I'll wish upon a star, and wake up where the clouds, are far behind me..."
Even as it faded out of their hearing range, they'd heard it often enough that they simply let the words and tune flow.
They had no destination in mind, so when they arrived on the street below, they let Fossette lead them around.
He was just jumping around and Viper enjoyed the view. They got some snacks, buying some crepes and a box of gourmet chocolate.
They were waiting in a crossroad when Viper paused and slipped a charoite from their purse, honing their Dying Will Flames into it to help concentrate their Flames, the Mist leading to the suitcase above them and their own illusion thinning into a hair strand and their control allowing less leak.
Fon stepped beside them.
Viper narrowed their eyes at the skies, rocking Fossette in their arms.
The man, proudly wearing a short-sleeved green changshan with black arm warmers obviously unnerved everyone in the vicinity, as in addition to his foreign features and the scars marring his arms, (that weren't well received as was), his glare into the horizon was piercing and empty.
Viper allowed themself a glance as everyone else stared.
The only thought they had was that they couldn't bring themself to imagine him smiling.
And also, his muscles tensed in the way that reminded them of a cat waiting to pounce. Only much more deadly.
Frowning at the ground, they decided they didn't want to know.
The traffic slowed and they moved-
Fon moved.
Past them in a speed that hadn't even let them register what happened until he was standing in the middle of the road, meeting a car driving way past the speed limits. Their coat billowed (-so fast the wind could barely catch up to him). The car hood crumpled in his hands and he twisted to bring it above and behind him where it skidded on the ground, splintering the cement with its surprisingly sturdy frame.
Lalima kicked out the driver's door, rolling on her feet and in front of Fon as Conrad emerged from the passenger's seat, pulling out a green haired man from the back.
"Doctor, get behind the car and keep your Flames on it." Conrad instructed Delta lowly, swinging the custom Delta branded rifle from his back to arm himself, eyes flickering to the bystanders around them.
Both soldiers were in a complete formal regalia, black Nazi uniforms, Lalima's markings denoting her as Marshall and Conrad as a colonel.
And okay, so there might be a small, tiny, tinny part of them that swooned at the uniform.
Both uniforms.
On cue, there were screams as cars rushed to break, some even slamming their automobiles into random stores and walls in favour of the monster standing in the middle of the commotion, a tail of raven hair rippling behind him.
What the actual-?!
"Conrad!"
People were running and Viper followed suit, slipping behind a sign and fading from sight and sound as their puppet disappeared in the crowd.
"Yes, ma'am!" He was already moving, Fon's glowing red eyes -oh, he was mad alright- glanced at him before Laalima pulled back his attention with a bullet.
The fucker caught it.
Lalima looked unperturbed.
Honestly, Viper could count the times they'd been cornered into a fight in one hand with fingers to spare -and those barely lasted a minute at most. It just wasn't part of their modus operandi.
They were an information broker, not a hitman, and they were good at it. Good enough to not have their hands forced every time.
But they had seen their fair share of fights to know what was considered the average 'skilled' and 'strong'.
Conrad leapt on top of the car, aimed, and shot past Fon's shoulder, hitting the street exactly as a bright purple car of a sleek design turned the corner and was thrown in the air, the impact precise that it made it roll towards them.
The last few seconds was way beyond the 'average'.
The front was already destroyed, Viper decided beyond any point of saving, before the underbelly was then punched out with a burst of Sky Flames and Renato pulled himself out, assessing the situation.
"Renato! He's not breathing!"
Luce's voice and movement drew some gazes to a tuft of purple hair peeking out from the broken window on the driver's side, damp with blood.
Conrad grimaced but didn't react beyond that.
Renato grunted in acknowledgement but clearly couldn't care less for the poor schmuck that had died in the line of duty as their driver.
It seemed that before Fon's interference, Lalima's group were already in the middle of a car chase and had been planning to meet Renato by using the crossroad to cut them off.
"Identify yourself. You are currently obstructing justice." Lalima barked at said interloper.
Fon stared before answering, low and even.
"Your name doesn't matter to me, so mine doesn't matter to you either. The only things that matters are the pins on your coat and the red band around your arm." He settled into a stance, eyes now solid chips of rubies. Like Dorothy's shoes. "First your group, and then the Vongolas."
He was speaking in mandarin and Viper took a second to translate because they weren't as adept with it.
Renato's eyes snapped at his back while Conrad clearly hadn't understood a word. Lalima narrowed her eyes at him.
Fossette whimpered under the heavy bloodlust. At this point, the street was already empty, people having ran or hidden in the buildings.
"Shhh, quiet, Fossette. They won't hurt you." They half-heartedly crooned, stroking his head as they watched intently.
Lalima brought a radio to her lips, not breaking eye contact with Fon, "Field Marshall Lalima, over."
"Ma'am, over."
"Evacuate the people in a mile radius, over."
"...copy, over."
"Conrad, keep an eye on Giglio Nero. Don't let her escape," Lalima pocketed the communicator, mouth set in a line, "I'll take this one."
"Yes-"
Lalima dropped under Fon's arm and rolled away from the kick.
It was almost too fast for Viper's eyes to follow.