Pure curiosity about a past life had her, on occasion, forsake those sworn duties before…

Yet Leela couldn't help but tug her ponytail as she spotted her former home, as she heard rapid crunches of stone under her feet. Knew since last year she had run out of excuses for her sudden leave.

Once she eyed the old door's new holes however, she sidled through and rubbed hands, for the chance to explore & reflect. A deep breath through her nostrils, as the gymnasium flooded her thoughts…

"Ahhhhh, to think this was my first encounter of Hell."

All those class photos, all the lunch hours, all the late nights… Often left behind in Cootietown, yet always invaded as they mocked that obvious flaw, as they howled over her great shames & obsessions. All the damage they had done, for reasons she never truly understood why.

One eye and purple hair aside, she'd always believed she was an outcast just as they were.

A jutting of her lip, as she turned towards that court and the unofficial barefoot slide competition. A fond memory for destroying a tormentor's record skid, courtesy of some leftover lunch grease. A small cheer back then, and grand pleasure to watch them fail in taking the record back, by fair means or foul.

Soon, a chin-up salute offered to the only Hall of Famer of her group—hers truly—as the county-certified, adventure-applied Space Captain. On that wall, the other individuals couldn't touch her; drug fiends, attention whores, gluttons, and probable blackmailers.

For the group of kids who came after her, a different story… Ones who got the fairytale ending from a confession of all things. An ascension as she revealed the true origins of her hit TV show, her blatant theft of ideas, and the true 'Humplings' as proof of both.

As luck would have it, Abner Doubledeal, of whom she'd had history, had chosen to adopt them as crew members of the 'Rumbledy-hump' spin-off; no writers, no actors, no problem. In fact, for the orphans and creatures alike, no bigger win-win she could imagine.

And no better events to recall in preparing her for Building D… Where she'd truly sober up to the reality of how anyone, and often, would cross any line just to hurt others.

Drooped against the doorframe of her old bedroom, soon taking steps forward to ruffle the top bunks' sheets, at least make it look lived in. Maybe living alone was for the best, especially once those jeers began to ring in her ears.

That faded tin box, and a backhanded brush against it. From depths unknown, delicious cookies while she did her homework, and further evidence of an unexplainable force of kindness; one to save her as a baby, spoil her as a child, and reassure her as a teen…

From all their efforts, as her knees soon tucked under her chin, she no longer found the little girl trapped before monsters. Rather, she saw her reflection warp into the woman she worked so hard to be; a satisfying bliss as she leaned her shoulders and arms back, and gave a long roar.

Was content to leave it at that, until the depths of her ears picked up a voice… "Oi, do you mind?"

Though happier for ending her reflections, Leela felt that Captain's curiosity surface again. Smashed doors and gross trails aside, seemed she took them more for granted than she should have.

A squirming pang in her gut to follow, she took her steps towards this latest mystery to solve…

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Upon the loud roar, his sudden yell and those thumping steps, Mayfield had to sit up and rub his eyes, a shade groggy as he grabbed his sledge. Clenched jaw, confident steps, and a vowing stare to defend his home, worthless though it was.

Only to lose in a virtual instant when the woman he caught inside had stared his way.

After a scream to awaken the dead, it took just seconds for him to rush backwards, stumble, and slip over a loose board, almost thudding his head. Thought of scrambling for somewhere, but soon knew that there was little else he could do but stand his ground.

"Send me to Hay, Hell & Booligal… Get away from me!"

"What, where & who? The hell are you on about, I don't even know you!"

"Don't care, take another step and swear I'll…"

"Hey, you'd best watch yourself pal! If you think your threats will fly against me, I'll take every pleasure in grounding you."

Her further advance towards his tightening grip, one that could've created splinters as he trembled against her ugly frown. Remembered how he defied her, wasn't sure he'd do so twice.

"Then let us both win. I'll escape this awful life, and you get a workout… Finish me!"

"Wait wait wait… Did you say what I think you said?"

"You've got twice the ears as you do eyes, so use them. You think I'm a fool, that it isn't obvious? You're good with your fists, it's clear you're pissed off, and you hate my guts… We both know this! And what a coincidence, not a single witness to be seen."

Had her give wide shrugs & gestures, before she shook her head: "What hatred, what problem, what… Can you hear yourself, you crazy moron? I. Don't. Know. You!"

"Oh, oh, I'm the crazy one? Maybe THIS"—as he flashed his finger—"should clear things up a bit."

Now it was her turn to collect herself: "Okay, time-out, whoa! You're the same deadbeat who woke me last night?"

"All the more reason to beat me dead, yeah? Now will that be your pleasure, or shall I spare you the trouble?"

Even for the counselling years behind her, Leela remembered the shares of bluffers, runners, panickers and the suicidal that came her way. Perhaps his situation was similar in that respect…

"Listen, I don't know how you got here, but if you let those Cryogenic counsellors help you…"

"Help? After last night, this entire city—ESPECIALLY you—can kiss the crack of my arse."

Taken aback at first, she could only cross her arms and stare him down, unsure of his game.

"How about you can the stupid act and listen to yourself? If I truly hated you, and we were in this situation, you think I wouldn't have buried you already?"

"Gee, thanks ma'am for the assurance! So all while I had no clue, no hope and no-one to help, and reacted as such, what you did after came from love and compassion? Now I really don't need Baker Street's finest to know you."

"Speak for yourself. Newsflash little boy… In this world of hard times you're nobody special, so quit your entitled whining."

Mayfield could feel his lips froth into a filthy lather, as he pointed a finger.

"Did you even BOTHER to ask? When all I cared for was a shower, or food & drink, or clean clothes, or Gods forbid some advice, I was shouted down, until you smacked me down. You dare to speak of my entitlement, when you look down from that apartment of yours? FUCK you!"

A flare in her face; soon she had met him virtually eye-to-eyes, sending Mayfield's heart into his throat.

"Careful whose line you cross, kid. Maybe if you'd kept your mouth shut, proved more polite, we might've met under better circumstances."

"You want, scratch that, you expect politeness from me? As a malnourished and lost sewer rat fearing for his life, all I had left was a scream, and all I remembered was how you might've killed me in the five minutes we met. For right now, suck it you one-eyed psycho!"

Not the wisest set of words he'd speak, as it took her just moments to disarm his sledge, grab his throat, and ready her fist.

"I always love giving a life lesson, perhaps you'd like one on respect?"

"Just deliver me unto the Devil, as I deserve! A chokehold could help me sleep for once."

"A chokehold? Funny, I don't recall learning…"

"You kiddin' me? Look, you wrap your arms 'round this thing"—he pointed to his carotid artery—"and you'll snooze a sucker in moments flat. I would've understood, if nothing else."

Getting the gist, Leela chose to let him go, resting a hand on her hip as he took his steps back.

"Huh, I suppose…"

Stared back to see him sit cross-legged on the floor, breathing from the pits of his lungs. An attempt to calm down, though he returned a rather vicious glint once she approached.

"So, are you done then?"

"Lady, please back off… Gimme some space, huh?"

As he got to his feet, dusted off and loosened his neck, he took a little time to gaze over the lady before him. Being eye-to-eyes and well-muscled aside, from the neck down should've been generous figments of one's imagination, daresay arousal. A hand-crafted hourglass, rarer than any human he knew…

No wonder why he convinced himself that time was up, given how he shrunk back and stared away.

"Think I'd still have done that, if I knew anyone lived there?"

"Absolutely. You still sound like a scream for help, and I say that for being there."

"Tch, no bigger understatement you'll ever utter… Guess we've different ways of adjusting."

"I'll say. Y'know kid, even for the revulsion I get, I've never seen anyone scream and run like you did."

"After your constant fists in my face, I can't imagine why. You serious, Leela?"

Once again her turn to stumble back: "Okay wise-guy, how the hell do you still remember me?"

"For starters, who else do you know with purple hair and a gigantic eye? Second, who else could leave a man unconscious without effort, put the fears of Gods into them? And finally, who else would return to this hopeless junkyard under their free will?"

"Well, can't argue against that logic… But this isn't any place for a grown adult to be."

"Oh, you think? For your daily dose of duh, are you really gonna tell me that ANYONE would volunteer to live here, even for all of Fort Knox's gold? To think they all painted me as a criminal, a low-life, while they were complicit in housing poor, defenceless children in these halls."

She had a little chuckle: "As one who once called it home, you caught me. But between these halls and our cardboard boxes, at least the rent's lower and it keeps more drafts out."

"Well, whatever you haven't ripped apart of it yet, my heart goes out for your living here. What brought you back, if I may ask?"

"I could spend a weekend on such stories, but the short version? I come here to reflect on all I've faced, all I've suffered, and all I've achieved in spite of all that. Where I learned one of a great many lessons; either help yourself and seize what you desire, or be seized for all you had & loved. Guess we both know what that's like, huh?"

None too receptive, the kid had to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh please. When violence is your first solution, it's obvious you have no-one and nothing to lose. You think you'll ever understand all I've lived for & loved, how cruel tidings took that all away? Do me a solid and shut it, okay?"

The tone that followed after almost had him suffer an arrest.

"You believe so, do you? You still think me to be so privileged, that nothing's ever gone wrong in my life? You're about a cross a line you can't return from, so I suggest you BACK off."

"I rest my case… But fine, let's drop this nonsense."

"First good idea you've had. Now call this impulsive kid, but I'm ready to hand a clean slate. Maybe you're more than had met my eye that night… How 'bout it?"

Her hand held out, and a reeling rub of his head. Fists and fight skills like those; no wonder she ruined him so. A stare at those boots, and he knew why it took just a single kick to snooze him. And yet, it was a certain one-time offer from a lady with the lion's share of experience, who had the obvious means and ways to survive such a world…

Just like that, the slate was wiped clean, as Leela gave a slither of a grin.

"Alright, that's good enough for me. So, whose hand did I shake kid?"

"If you're after my name, it's Mayfield. Thomas Mayfield, the newest nuisance and no-account numpty of New New York."

"As you already know, I'm Leela. Turanga Leela, in fact, Captain and Head Pilot of Planet Express Delivery Company. Cookieville's most distinguished alumni, if I had my way."

"Yeah, I saw those pictures. That's one thing we can agree on at least. So, delivery work huh? Know of any openings, places to stay, people to meet?"

"Well, since last year, we've been searching for a crew chef or delivery boy. But I warn you, it's no picnic. Tips only, work's dangerous & unstable, and we're led by one who blunders more than you'd blink. Play your cards right though, you just might get all three… Interested?"

It was a hopeful foot in the door, and remembering those lost jobs and empty wallets, Mayfield made his acceptance quite clear.

"Great, I'll just get ourselves a cab. If you're accepted today, that'll be even better, since I can make time for a proper tour. For something this on-the-job, it's much better than most crew members could ever hope for."

Her way of making small amends, for beating him into the next millennium.

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As the Captain and 'child' bobbled and bumped through the hard earth, he caught himself tapping his knees, deep breaths all the while.

Even as he grimaced for her choice of magazine—some overblown celebrity tabloid—her brains had become obvious. From the little he knew of her now, she had applied herself, raised the bar, and never chose to coast…

Yet she sat beside her complete opposite, about to give him a chance. A chance to prove himself, to prove that he belonged, to prove he could carve out a new legacy. For himself and the family name, centuries after they disappeared, if not died.

How could he ever apologise, towards one who could see right through them? Towards someone so golden underneath that iron, how could he ever express the proper gratitude?

It took quite some thought, but he finally stammered out an "Excuse me?" to just her side-eye. Her attention, or what little he merited of it.

"Listen, I never wished for you to experience my rock bottom the way you did, and for that hassle and lack of manners since, I truly am sorry. Hell, I'm so thankful for you offering me your ladder, and I'm not sure how I'd ever pay that back."

Keeping one finger on the page, she closed the magazine and fixed an eye, stern yet warm.

"That's fine, and let me return that apology. Despite your rude awakening and whatnot, I now understand why, and I should've known better."

"No worries. Hey, do you think we'll ever know the answers to all our questions?"

"Out of hard work and great desire, I really hope we do. Though that's to be foolish out here."

Mayfield leaned his arm on the windowsill, a nod of knowing too well what she said and meant.

"Anyway cabbie, quick pit-stop at the market please, keep the meter running."

Mysterious business as Leela stepped out, but they soon found themselves off again as, from her hands to the middle seat, Leela laid a heavy, well-wrapped package down. One that had Mayfield squirm, choke and itch all over.

The scent of fresh fish, strong enough to drift into his nostrils and recall his past once more…

There he'd sit at a favourite café, jam-filled donut or two, while his family enjoyed their coffee & cake. Was always the scent, one of a spoiling sort that would annoy him as he ate it. Did it for them, refusing to waste money among other reasons. Never patronised that place again, after the Gods took them…

"Well, we're here." Leela called.

Ripped out of his reminiscence, Mayfield's knees stuttered as he found those headquarters come into view. Giant, domed and pointy red tower, smashed together to an 80s-style lunchbox, and docked beside a river that stretched beyond anything he'd ever imagine.

And that background cityscape… Who knew what laid beyond those shadowy borders?

As he stumbled several steps behind in taking it all in, Leela went offside to knuckle a dumpster lid, her package balanced in hand as she called out to her potential crewman.

"Listen, even I can't get a key to get inside, so you'll need another way in. Lucky for us both, I've got the means to make it happen…"

Mayfield nodded as he scratched his beard: "Must've been what the package was for."

But before he could ask who would receive such a gift, he heard scuttles tapping inside the metal, found the sight of four spongy, noodly appendages sniffing about. Whatever that thing looked to be, it gave the kid a sudden urge to lace up his shoes & run.

For reasons he couldn't quite put a finger on, that thing looked as crooked as a dog's hind leg, and such opportunities to work around that creature could go begging.