p id="isPasted" dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Patty San Chapter 2: Miffed/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Patty power walked down the hallway towards the med-ward. That had been close, that had been too Sins-Damned close! But, it was informative. Red Nightmare was the one spreading superpowers, or 'Stands' to the kids of the 'Donna, slowly but surely building an army presumably to overthrow Belladonna. But, he'd been Dealt With, forced into a Pact of some kind to the cruel, paranoid old sow. So, he was building his forces slowly, patiently, in secret, and San, the impulsive mooncase, was about to blow the whole lid off that operation! What would Boss Lady do if she found out? Do to the kids Red had 'blessed'? Nothing good, that's for sure! She had to find San, had to slap some sense into her, to take that damned Arrow back and return it to its rightful, terrifying owner./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" But first, she needed that day-pass./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She pushed open the door to the med-ward and stepped in. Doc Habbo was sitting behind his desk, looking up from a dossier and arching an eyebrow. "Yes? Can I help you?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Uhh…" She mumbled, steeling herself to talk straight and clear. "W-worked too hard. T-tired. M-Mr. N-Nightmare told me t-t-t–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Red?" Doc Habbo perked up, nodding. "Gotcha. Salt-tablets and a day-pass. Sorry, I don't see you Home Ec kids down here much, what's your name?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "P-Patty," she said, breathing a silent sigh of relief./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He pulled out a small laminated card on a lanyard and wrote on it, handing it to her. "There you go. Just a moment, I'll grab the salt-tablets."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She took it and nodded, saying nothing as the apish Sinner stood up and waddled over to the apothecary. She looked around the ward as he did, noticing a form laying in one of the cots. It was Emerson, one of the Staff for the Shop and Acquisitions. Most of the kids who spoke of him did so derisively, but often just because of his offputting demeanor and unpleasant appearance. Patty had never heard of him abusing the kids in any particularly offensive way, as an unfortunately large – though smaller now, thanks to Red – number of Staff were known to do. No, out of the Staff, Emerson was known as 'mostly harmless'. Not one of the 'good ones' like Habbo and Laila, but not a hitter or diddler at least./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" The Sinner lay flat on the cot, his odd, visor-like eyes staring at the ceiling, seemingly in a trance. On impulse, Patty walked over to him, curious. He didn't seem to be hurt in any way, the damage he'd incurred during his bizarre assault on Red was already mostly healed./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Careful with that one, missy," said Habbo as he walked over to them. "Emerson here seems to have suffered some kind of mental break."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She turned to look at Habbo, in his hand a small plastic bag holding four white tablets. "Mental b-break?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Habbo nodded, tapping his temple. "Came in here the other day complaining of visions. Said he could see the future, but also all the other potentials therein. Something about a 'time razor'?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "…A trillion different realities folding onto each other like thin sheets of metal forming a single blade…" Emerson muttered, still staring at the ceiling. "The Time Knife hangs in the void of probability, where all and nothing both exist and don't until observed and are made manifest. My mind is a battlefield between Fate and Free Will. All of reality is predicated upon the internecine conflict between cosmic forces, always clashing and resolving within my brain every second of every minute of every hour of every day…"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "The Time Knife, right," grunted Habbo, turning to Patty. "Had to give him a pop of benzos to stop him from raving."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "All would scream in existential horror if they saw emstrongTHE TIME KNIFE!/strong/em" Emerson wailed, suddenly turning to face them, his visor-eyes glitching and twitching, his expression one of pure misery. "…I wanted to be a baker. I just wanna make cakes but the Knife won't emlet me!/em"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Habbo reached into his pocket and produced a Bart Simpson Pez-Dispenser, popping a pill out and handing it to the broken demon. "Open up, Emerson."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Emerson did and swallowed the pill dry, sobbing quietly as he turned back to the ceiling./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Habbo led Patty away, sighing. "Poor soul. He's just too high-strung. He never was cut out for this kind of work. I knew this was coming ever since he attacked Red. I'll have to open a psych-ward at the rate the Staff are going daffy-ducky."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Patty looked back over her shoulder. Emerson was an Acquisitions Staffer, like Red, which meant they were based out of the Shop more often than not, with San. "W-when did he s-start feeling this way?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Habbo eyed her up a moment, shrugging. "According to him, this has been going on for a few days. Started up one morning and never stopped. He only just today came to me begging for tranqs. Why?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "N-no reason," she said, quickly. "Th-thank for the day-pass, Doc."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He watched her for a moment before nodding, handing her the salt tablets. "Take one of these dissolved in a large cup of water. One right now and one before bed. Get lots of rest and drink plenty of water. If you still feel strung out tomorrow morning, repeat the process with the other two tablets."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Th-thanks, Doc," said Patty, taking the tablets and turning to leave./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She had to find San, to set things right. Red's plan had to move forward if she and her friends were to be free./p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr-3" style="color: #000000;" /
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew turned the wrench, loosening a nut. He pulled off the wrench, hissing a curse as the nut stuck to the tines, popping off and plummeting into the car frame. Dew growled a string of unspeakably foul curses as he looked into the frame for the nut, not seeing it but dreading the damned thing had likely fallen into one of the gaps in the frame. He threw down the wrench and stormed off towards his toolkit, rifling through it for the flexible pick-up tool. Sod's law would no doubt have it he'd have to pull out the block in order to retrieve the fucking thing./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Klk."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew turned around to see Syx, the tall, wiry imp studying the situation sightlessly. Ever since Acquisitions had temporarily shut down, the dour, stone-faced teen had been wandering about, picking up odd jobs. Syx was no gearhead, but he could turn a wrench and follow directions well enough. Dew pondered sourly if he could use his blind-guy powers to echolocate the nut or something. He knew better than to ask, though. Not even he messed with Syx./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Hey, Syx," said Dew, gruffly. "Need something?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Klk," said Syx, jabbing a thumb at the car. "Klk-klk?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Aw, just lost a nut in the abyss," grumbled Dew. "Probably gonna be wasting all day fishing the fuckin' thing outta there. Even if San fixes that turbo, we can't roll it out with a wild nut at large. Fuck!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Syx pointed to himself and then at the car. "Klk-klk?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew shrugged. "Hey, man, if you think you can help, have at 'er."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Syx stepped over and reached his arm down into the engine space, between the frame and block. Dew sighed in frustration, if he could have reached the thing, he wouldn't have gotten the pick-up tool! Humoring the blind kid was just wasting his fucking time! /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Then, something happened. It was brief, whatever it was, like a shudder, rippling through his body. His clothes lifted off of him, his hair shifting, for a brief instant he even felt his feet begin to leave the ground! Then, it was over. His feet thudded lightly on the floor as he dropped an imperceptibly tiny distance. What the Abyss was that?!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Klk-klk," said Syx, pulling his arm out of the car and handing the nut to him./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Uh…" Dew said, perplexed before taking it. "Thanks…"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Klk-klk," said Syx, turning away and heading off into the Shop./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew watched as Syx strolled imperiously through the Shop, effortlessly avoiding loose parts and tools scattered across the floor around the various projects. Something weird was going on…/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Heya Mountain Dew!" A high, somewhat manic voice said behind him. "I did the thing!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew turned around to see the grinning visage of San, the resident gadgeteer genius and mildly infuriating weirdo. Clutched in her skinny arms was the bricked turbo. It looked… different somehow. The car and its engine had been in relatively good condition, not too much mileage but not off-the-lot by longshot: this turbo was emnew/em./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Thanks, San," he said, taking it from her, shaking it to listen for any of the debris of the shattered blade, hearing none. "Damn! How'd you even do that?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Magic! Snrk-snrk!" San replied, snorting a laugh. "Welp! I'm off on my lunch break! If you need any more miracles, just leave 'em in my station, Dew-Dew!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew watched her skip away towards her station, grabbing up her lunchbox and heading for an open bay door. His eyes narrowed: oh yes, something weird was going on./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Hey, Dew!" Tolly said, walking over. "Oh, hey! That the turbo?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "No, it's a sandwich," grumbled Dew, shoving the part into the other kid's arms. "Strap that on and get the rig ready for a test run. I'm takin' my lunchbreak."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I…" Tolly began to say, only for Dew to set off without saying another word. "…Right."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
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p data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San sat on the bench outside the Shop, cracking open her lunchbox and pulling out one of the messily wrapped sloppy joes the Cafeteria had whipped up that morning. Most kids would grouse and grumble about the 'mystery meat' and how they 'knew a kid' who swore they saw the lunchladies hauling in bags of roadkill or taking out bags of empty dog-food or some such. 'On Satan' would usually follow these claims along with the usual laughs of disgust. San didn't care. Sloppy Joes tasted like food and stayed down, usually, so they were the best! Still, it was awfully nice when Mr. Nightmare showed up with all those Beelzeburgers with their greasy meat and greasier fries. No way someone who did that could be a meanie! Still, Patty had gotten it into her head that Mr. Nightmare was, in fact, a big scary meanie and asked her to return the Arrow. Normally, San would take note of the objections of others and weigh them against doing something cool and that would be all she wrote! /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Like that time she installed a flamethrower on one of the box-trucks to stop people from stealing them. Fuddy-duddies like Paq told her it was a bad idea, but Dew seemed to think it was funny, especially when Evil Eye Watkins set himself on fire by tugging on the door handle without unlocking it first. Evil Eye sure was mad, but he was a mega-meanie, so she didn't care. Huh. Come to think about it, she hadn't seen Evil Eye around for a few months now. Him or Strokes, another meanie. She wondered what happened to them before remembering her previous line of thought./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" 'emPatty's gotta stop being such a worry-berry!/em' The thought to herself, churlishly. 'emLike, an /emactual magic arrowem that gives people powers? That's /emso cool!em Patty's Stand is so cool and weird, like her paintings! What's not to like?/em'/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Still, if Patty told her to give it back, she would. Patty was San's best friend, and not like Dew or Tolly or that dying rat she found a few days ago – rest in peace Mr. Twitchy – Patty was her bestest best friend, and if giving that cool shiny Arrow back to that dumb smelly Sinner would make her happy, she would do it. She just had to figure out a way to give it back without Mr. Nightmare knowing it was ever gone. No fuss, no muss, no angry voices or mean words. That could be tricky, though, since taking the thing and replacing it with her perfect replica had been plenty tricksome!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" [Stealers Wheel] was the coolest Stand around, and so so useful, but it had some… quirks. For one, you couldn't just take something, you had to replace it with something else, otherwise it was a no-go. So, just swap the fake thing with the real thing, right? Not so, bozo! You had to know what you were swapping and San would admit now that her notion of 'cool magic dealie' was vague at best. The first… emthing/em she'd pulled from Red Nightmare as he addressed the room that morning those days ago had been weird. emReally/em weird. It had no form her Stand could manifest, at least not one that didn't make her smell burning wires with her eyeballs. [Stealers Wheel] could grab and swap not only physical aspects of things, but other stuff too. Not-really-real things like memories and interests and preferences for color. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Like when Meanie Mr. Diamanti saw her using her Stand, like, actually emsaw/em her using it, which Sinners weren't supposed to be able to do. Weird, but not a problem. He began to harumph and tick-tock like a fat, ugly clock, demanding where she got it and how. So she swapped his memory of it with the memory of her Hellphone, specifically a Klip-Klop video of a fat imp in a speedo twerking to a Verosikka Mayday song. Naturally, he'd forgotten he'd seen her using her Stand, his stupid clockwork face curdling in disgust and confusion at the funny video playing in his brain./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" What had she been thinking about?/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Oh, right! Mr. Nightmare!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She had tried to void the exchange by selecting Mr. Nightmare again when dumb ol' Emerson strolled into her reticule! What came out of the smelly slugman was a lot easier to understand, cakes and tarts and other tasty treats, but how annoying! She was still getting the hang of her Stand's interface, not yet knowing she could just send everything back from whence it came by resetting the tiles. Mr. Nightmare began to wrap up the meeting and head out, meaning she'd have to wait emwhole hours/em before she could try again. San would admit that she may have been a little careless in the ensuing swap-out, fumbling a tile here and there, but soon the tiles were clear and she had it! 'Cool magic arrow' had been the ticket! Swip-swap-blip-blop and the Arrow was hers, her replica now nestled snugly in Mr. Nightmare's pocket./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" It was the perfect crime./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Now that she knew how to handle her Stand better, it should be emway/em easier to put it back! She hoped. She just had to find Mr. Nightmare and do the ol' switcheroo, preferably where he couldn't see her using her Stand, but where she could see him. Ooh! Patty's [t.A.T.u] could do that, easy! Just make them both into funny-looking pictures and creep up on Mr. Nightmare. So long as they didn't move when he was looking at them, he'd just think they were graffiti or something!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Keh-heh-heh…" San geckered through a mouthful of Sloppy Joe. "Sanny, you're a genius~"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah, I'll say," said a voice behind her./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She turned around to see Dew standing there, lunchbox in his hand. "Huh? Dew?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Scoot," he grunted, sitting next to her on the bench./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San watched as he did. Since when did Dew sit with her? Usually, he'd set down by himself somewhere and those brave enough – like San – would sit next to him. He emnever/em went and sat down next to someone else. And what was that he said? He agreed that she's a genius? Well, he should, but Dew never said nice things to people, even his friends. He'd always just grunt and nod when someone said something nice to him, or if they did a good job he'd tell them to 'keep it up' at most. Yet here he was, sitting next to her and saying nice things./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Uh, heya, Mountain Dew," said San, slightly perplexed. "What's up?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I could ask the same," said Dew, opening his lunchbox./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He pulled out a brick of 'loaf', the 'Donna's version of meatloaf that looked and tasted like second-hand dog-food. Most kids hated it, and Dew couldn't really be said to like emanything /emthat wasn't his little sister, Ena – who San emadored/em – but the congealed bricks of protein and starch seemed to be the only things that could keep up with the beastly boy, his metabolism just as bullish as the rest of him. Even though he and San were about the same age, Dew was near 5'10 and built, with long toned limbs, a narrow waist, and a broad, densely muscled torso. Some kids joked he'd be near seven-foot by the time he left the 'Donna, and San was sure he wouldn't be any size to joke around with by then./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Wait, what did he say?/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Going on?" San said, unconsciously reaching for her breast pocket, to where emit/em was. "Nothing! Nothing's going on! Nope nope!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew eyed her up for a moment, his deep red eyes narrowing before shrugging his bullish shoulders. "Alright. I just noticed you havin' a bug in your bonnet about something."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Aww! He cared! /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Wait…/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Actually…" she drawled, swallowing her mouthful. "You, like, spend lots of time with Mr. Nightmare, right?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew quirked an eyebrow at this before turning away from her. "Not really."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "But more than, say, me, yeah?" She said, mock-driving a car. "Going out, stealin' cars, working with Acquisitions. Mr. Nightmare's out there, too, yeah?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah," said Dew, biting off another chunk of loaf. "He's our 'negotiator'."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Wuzzat mean?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "When we get into trouble we can't handle, he gets us out of trouble," said Dew, chewing. "Usually by smearin' fools."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Right, right" San nodded, now we're talkin'! "So, like, what's he like?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Whadaya mean 'what's he like'?" Dew said, swallowing. "He's Staff. A Faller."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah, but, they's not all the same," said San. "Like we got the lunchladies, Laila, and Doc, but we also got Diamanti, Evil Eye, and Strokes, yeah?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Had." Dew almost smirked. "We emhad/em Evil Eye and Strokes."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Whatever," she said, shaking her head. "Who's he like?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "You're asking if he's one of the Good Ones?" Dew asked./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "No."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San paused, she hadn't heard anything bad about Mr. Nightmare. "What do you mean?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I mean he ain't like them."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "How?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew sighed, scowling into the middle distance. "Dunno. He just ain't. He's different."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San could tell that not even Dew was sure, or at least couldn't put the feeling to words, so she opted not to press it and got back on topic. "Well… what's he like with the kids?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "He's Staff," grunted Dew. "He tells us what to do and we do it."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "And when we don't?" San pressed, leaning in. "What's he like when he gets mad?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Red don't get mad."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San blinked, confused. "But… okay, like, say a kid messes up real bad, or steals the wrong thing or something? What does he do?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew paused, brow furrowing. It didn't take a genius like her to figure out Dew wasn't exactly the most articulate person. Not dumb by any means, but also not gifted in the art of putting his thoughts and feelings to words, hence his tendency to throw parts, tools, and other kids when annoyed./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "He gets…" Dew began to say, struggling, before shaking his head and waving her off. "He don't get mad. He don't holler or cuss us out or nothing. He don't hit us, either. At least I've never seen or heard of him hittin' a kid. Worst I've seen him with us is… miffed? Yeah, he got miffed at me and Syx when we tried to boost that Viper a while back."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh yeah! I remember that!" San exclaimed, nodding. "Phwoo! What a rocket!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Psh." Dew scoffed. "Piece of shit shifted gears like a jackhammer and handled like a shopping cart."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh, but emsoooo shiny~/em" San cooed./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Sexy as Setty, for sure," he said, nodding./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Shoot, right! Back on topic! "But he got miffed? What'd he do?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Told us off?" Dew shrugged. "Told us not to do it again? I dunno. The guy's usually really chill, smilin' and stuff, so it stood out when he stopped. In fact, he don't really seem to get mad, even when he's sortin' out trouble."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San pondered this for a moment; this was promising for her. If Red didn't get mad at kids even when they mucked about, maybe he wouldn't get mad at her? Maybe she could just give it back and he'd be 'really chill', too? "What's he do to 'em? The people who give us trouble?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh, man…" Dew blew out an impressed whistle. "He emfucks them up./em"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" emOh./em "Oh."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah, like, when I tried to boost that Viper, right?" Dew said, excitement creeping into his voice. "Some gangsters showed up and started sounding off and he grabbed the leader by the ankle and just–" Dew raised his hand over his head and swung it down and mimicked a gooey 'splat'. "–like that. She blew open like a trash bag fulla guts! It was pretty cool."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San went pale, looking down at her suddenly very unappetising Sloppy Joe. "Y-yeah, sounds… cool."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "This other time, yeah?" Dew continued. "He reached down this guy's throat up to the elbow and –whuh-pish!– flicked him inside-out like a sock! And this other time, On Satan, he punched a guy's entire body off. Like POW and he was just a pair of legs standing there! Wish I could–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "A-anyway, thanks for the talk, Dew, but I gotta go!" San said, tucking away her lunch and hopping to her hooves./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" A steely, calloused hand shot out and wrapped around her wiry arm. San squawked as she was effortlessly hauled back, her face pressed into his hard, muscular body as his arm closed around her shoulders with all the warmth and mercy of a wrath-steel bear-trap./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "What's goin' on, San?" He whispered in her ear. "Something weird is goin' down and you're part of it."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "What? Nooo~ Dew-Dew, I just–URK!" She began to say before he squeezed her against him, a sensation not unlike being pressed against a concrete pillar. He released most of the pressure once he'd made his point./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Can it. I ain't stupid, San," growled Dew, still whispering. "Setty and Syx, then a buncha others, and now you. You're all actin' weird, and doin' weird shit. That turbo was bricked, San, but you handed me a emnew/em one. Mint, factory mint. How'd you do that?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I…" She croaked. "I can't–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "It's Red, isn't it?" Dew asked, leaning towards her. "He's up to something, isn't he? Doin' something to you guys. What's he up to?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "It's… a secret," she said, not meeting his gaze. "I-I'm sorry. I can't say anything, not right now. B-but it's not a bad thing! It's really, really cool and you'll be in on it soon! Look, Dew, I'm sorry, but I think I messed up real bad and I gotta go fix it! Please!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "What is it?" Dew stared at her for a time, scanning her face for any sign of deception. San knew that Dew knew that trying to get a 'Donna kid to rat on one another was like trying to undo a lug nut with a screwdriver. The larger boy sighed and released her. "I'll be in on it?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Soon!" San said, jumping to her hooves. "Real soon! See ya, Mountain Dew!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San scampered across the parking lot and towards the courtyard. She had to hurry! Oh, boy did she have to hurry! Mr. Nightmare didn't yell or cuss or hit, he didn't even seem to emget/em angry… even when turning fools into Sloppy Joes. She had to return the Arrow, and quiet-like, and for that, she'd need Patty./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew watched as the manic baphomet scuttled away, a consternated scowl on his face./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Soon, huh?" He muttered to himself, lifting his hand and opening his palm and the shining, richly carved arrowhead there. The thing seemed to hum, to vibrate, a sensation that was neither heard nor really felt, but also was. He pocketed the weird thing. "Yeah. Real soon."/p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr-3" style="color: #000000;" /
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" The girl's bathroom was empty, silent save for the sloshing of water and near-unending stream of muttered obscenities issuing from the blocked-off center stall. Setty stood over the toilet, manfully jostling a plunger back and forth, up and down, as she tried to disinter a stubborn clog. The center stall in this 10-stall bathroom had been blocked for a year at least, not even Surf Mesa could unblock it. Though, considering the mean old shithead's attitude towards Hellborn, that was either due to apathy or spite. Still, considering there were all of two girl's bathrooms in the whole building, that meant that even one stall being out of order often meant lines of uncomfortable, straining girls during rush-hour. Despite this, the idea of whatever it was being able to fight off a pipe-router fed the imagination of the kids. Some of the more superstitious lot even feared what might be unleashed should The Clog be disturbed. For herself, Setty wasn't opposed to the idea of getting the chance to kill something./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Custodial Duty was emthe worst/em. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" There was a reason it was the go-to punishment for kids who underperformed. A beating would be over relatively quickly, and their hardy Hellborn bodies would bounce back in a few days, but there was a special sort of hopelessness that came with perpetually cleaning up after a couple hundred rowdy, scrappy kids. Setty recalled overhearing some younger boys speculating about the lady's room, wondering just what went on in there, innocently assured that there was no way pretty ladies could be gross. She smirked at the time, knowing full well the truth of the matter. She found it a lot less funny now that she battled The Clog for supremacy. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" In truth, her [Titanium] could make short work of the thing (she hoped), but the more time she wasted in here, the less likely that miserable old Sinner Surf Mesa would throw her at an even worse job. The Groundskeeper was unique among the 'Donna Staff. Not in that he made no secret of his utter contempt for their kind – Asmodeus knew there were plenty of those types about – but that despite his very open bigotry he never really emdid/em anything. He never beat the kids, despite Belladonna in no way forbidding such 'punitive incentives'. He never gave so much as a shove or a slap, not even with the kids on punishment duty. He just talked shit like a backed up crapper. Lucky for him, too, Setty wasn't sure if she could stop herself from punching his ugly face into an uglier crater if he so much as touched her./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" The old pneumatic spring on the door groaned and creaked as the door opened. Setty gasped, horrified at the idea of any of the girls seeing her on custodial duty. She attempted to climb up onto the bowl before, with a self-chiding smack to her forehead, levitating off the floor./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Is the coast clear?" A voice said,it sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place it./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" A pause ensued as the second girl checked the stalls for feet. "Y-yeah. Clear."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty cocked her head, recognizing Patty's voice. Lunch break was over, so what was she doing here?/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "So glad I ran into you, Patty-Cake," said the other girl, her tone frantic. "I messed up, Patty! I messed up so so bad!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh, you think?" Patty replied, her voice a far cry from the stammering mutter Setty often struggled to hear. "And emI/emfound emyou/em, San!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San! Of course! She was that excitable little baphomet from the Shop that Red had selected. Setty herself didn't know her that well, but according to Syx she was a talkative cloudhead and outright agent of Chaos with a peerless knack for machines, gadgetry, and setting things on fire. In fact, Syx had even expressed mild concern at Red's decision to give her of all kids a… Stand./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty leaned in, peering through the crack in the door: this was trouble./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Whatever, look, turns out, Mr. Nightmare's actually emreally/em scary! We gotta give it back!" The wiry little baphomet continued, her rapid gesticulating matching her motormouth. "If we don't, we're in big big big messy trouble!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "We? Where's 'we' coming from?" The pitch-black hellhound said, folding her arms across her chest. "You're the one who stole the Arrow!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" SHE emDID/em emstrongWHAT?!/strong/em/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty torturously fought the urge to bust out right now and apprehend the little shits, to slap some sense into them and drag them to Red. But she relented, it was snap judgements like that that got her into trouble before. There was too much she didn't know, chief among them why the everloving fuck anyone would – or could – steal emanything/em from Red Nightmare, much less the Arrow./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah, I guess! Whatever!" San replied, waving her off. "But now you gotta Stand, too! Mr. Nightmare's been giving us Stands for some reason and he doesn't get angry but he kills people real bad even when he's not and if he finds out I stole it he might get miffed at us Patty emMIFFED!/em"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Calm down!" Patty exclaimed, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Breathe… breathe… pistons… gearboxes… catalytic converters…"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San inhaled slowly and exhaled, visibly calming down. "Camshaft pulleys… timing belts… turbos… okay. Okay, I'm calm."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Patty's hand streaked out and slapped her hard across the face./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oww!" San cried. "I said I was caaaalm!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I know," Patty grumbled. "That was for starting all this bullshit. Now, listen. I did some snooping. Red's planning on taking over the 'Donna, but he's been Dealt With, so he's been giving us kids powers so we can help him do her in. Considering Boss Lady hasn't gone nuclear, I'd bet she doesn't know. She doesn't know because Red's been very sly about emwho/em he's giving powers to, hoping to make enough of us to, I dunno, take her out when the time comes."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "And I messed all that up!" San exclaimed. "When he finds out, he's gonna mess emme/em up! Turn me into a Sloppy Joe! A Sloppy San!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "He's not going to find out, San," said Patty, sternly. "Because you're going to give it back emright now/em, understood?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah yeah yeah!" San said, nodding frantically. "I got it aaall figured out, kay? S'why I was looking for you, actually! What we're gonna do is find Mr. Nightmare and you're gonna turn us into pictures so I can get close enough to use [Stealers Wheel] to swap the real one with the fake one!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Swap? Setty narrowed her eyes. Is that how she did it?/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "You're sure you can do it without getting noticed?" Patty inquired, skeptical./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh, sure!" She said, suddenly sounding very proud of herself. "I did it before, didn't I? And I'm waaaay better at using my Stand now! So long as smelly Emerson stays outta the way, it'll aaall go smooth as Valvoline!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Wait…" Patty said, eyes narrowing. "Emerson? What happened with Emerson?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Huh? Oh. When I was first trying to swap out the Arrow, Emerson walked into my sights and I accidentally pulled some stuff outta him. A memory or something. No biggie."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "…Was it baking?" Patty asked./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah! Cakes and pies and stuff!" San chirped. "How'd you know?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Emerson wanted to be a baker…"Patty murmured, before shaking her head. "Nevermind! What's important now is that we get the Arrow back to Mr. Nightmare."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Get emwhat/em back to Mr. Nightmare?" Setty let herself drop, her workboots clacking on the linoleum. She opened the door and strolled out, hands on her hips and an unimpressed scowl on her face. "Hey girls~ Lunchtime ended twenty minutes ago. Dotcha know playin' hookie is against the rules? Tch-tch-tch. Trouble trouble. emBig/em trouble."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "S-s-s-s-s-s-s-suh-suh-suh…" Patty sputtered, her eyes red and orange dinnerplates in the toneless black of her fur./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Uhh…" San croaked. "S-Setty! Hey! Uh, emlove/em the coveralls! You really pull 'em off! Didja hear all that just now oh it's just a funny game Patty and I–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Shut up," Setty growled, causing San's mouth to snap shut like a steel trap. Setty turned to Patty, eyeing her up. "So. Stand-User, huh?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Heeeeeeee…" Patty whined, shying away from her glare./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Funny thing about that. See, me and Syx, we scout out talent for Mr. Nightmare. Find which kids we think will get the best results," said Setty crossing her arms as she walked over to the petrified hellhound. "But I don't remember ever picking you, 'Patty-Cake'. Was it Syx? Is he sweet on you or something? I can see it. You're just about the only kid around quieter than him."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Setty, please!" San cried, stepping between them. "It's my fault! I–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah, I heard everything, I was just fucking with you." Setty said, turning back to San, the glare on her face making her flinch back. "You stole the Arrow from Red Nightmare? Why? By Satan's Scrote, why?!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I…" San said, smiling nervously as she shrugged. "I thought it'd be cool?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty's face dropped, her anger momentarily snuffed by sheer incredulity. "What."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Stands are cool!" San chirped, apparently glad the angry voice had vanished. "So so cool! I wanted to see what the other kids' Stands were like!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty boggled at the baphomet for a hot second, turning to Patty, her expression questioning. Patty, looking embarrassed despite her mortification, nodded./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "And it's so unfair!" San cried, stepping forward defiantly. "Why can't they all have Stands? Why do you and Syx gotta pick 'em and leave the others out? 'Donna kids stick together, we're all we got!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Enough!" Setty barked, holding her hand out. "Give me the Arrow. I'll give it back to Red and you two are going to personally apologize to him."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San nodded, sadly, reaching behind her, hand slipping into her back pocket. "I'm sorry, Setty. Please don't be mad."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "It's not me you need to apologize to," she said, sternly./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "No, really," said San, her eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San leapt backwards and hurled a lug-nut the size of a plum. The dense lump of metal streaked through the air, Setty's enhanced senses easily tracking the lug as it trundled through the air, missing her entirely and shattering a windowpane. It bounced harmlessly on the courtyard pavement moments later./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Really not doing yourself any favors, here, kid," Setty scoffed, turning her head back to the girl. "Any more bright ideas?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She turned to see San, a glowing tile game floating in the air in front of her. "Just one."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" A tile clicked into an open space and Setty was gone, the lug-nut clattering to the linoleum. Setty was suddenly standing in the courtyard, two storeys below the broken window of the girl's bathroom./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty grit her teeth, her aura writhing as outrage and fury bubbled up within her. "emstrong[Titanium]/strong/em."/p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr-3" style="color: #000000;" /
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Surf Mesa shuffled down the hallway, hauling a mop and bucket on wheels. He'd just touched bases with the Cafeteria and they'd kindly supplied him with the next torment for his ward. If that little lustringer skank thought she could waste her punishment tackling The Clog, she had another thing coming! The primary grease-trap of the kitchen had scabbed over with whatever hideous slop Boss Lady was generous enough to feed these creatures. They needed someone to climb inside and bust up the hard bits before they could vacuum the whole thing out. After that, the sneering succubus would be a greasy little cooze in more ways than one!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Ringscrapers. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" 'Hellborn'. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Bah! /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Could anything be said to be 'born' down here? Birth was the right of natural creatures, the ones God emmeant/em to create. All the forums and chatrooms and conventions he attended postulated that ringscrapers weren't actually alive, at least not in the ways Humans or natural life was. Instead, they were lumps of aether powered by Hell-energy that coagulated into some obscene mockery of life, eventually evolving in the various races blighting this pit. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Surf Mesa didn't think so. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He was of the opinion that they were mistakes, or, rather, imperfect prototypes of life God quietly brushed under the metaphysical rug that was the Abyssal Plane. There they would scrabble and fester until the Fallen put them in their rightful place, under the heels of their betters. The most obvious evidence of this was their lack of Souls, their lack of permanent metaphysical presence. When the beasts died, they were gone. No Double Hell for them. Humans had Souls, they were meant to persist into perpetuity, and even the blasphemous Fallen were former Angels, intentionally crafted to serve an eternal purpose, one they refused to participate in, but still. Not ringscrapers. They were tumors of aether animated by Hell-energy, each bearing some twisted visage reminiscent of natural life. At least Sinners looked the way they did as a punishment! Ringscrapers were just born that way, therefore they had to be ancient, malformed prototypes of natural life. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He was gratified to learn the other day that his theory was starting to take off in his online circles. Maybe, one day, they'd hit the mainstream and Pride would start treating these things how they ought to be treated! It ate at him to see ringscrapers shacked up in better apartments than him, to see them open businesses, some even became actual fucking celebrities. It was an affront to the natural order. And of course, despite being given these opportunities the foul things still had the unmitigated gall to cry about oppression and discrimination! That they dared test the largess of their betters only strengthened his resolve to put these uppity abominations in their place whenever he could./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" …Verbally./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He turned the corner to where the girl's bathroom was, smirking as he imagined the look on the little slut's face when he broke the good news. Her outrage and disgust just barely kept in place by her instinctive knowledge of her place in the order of things, helpless to resist. Surf Mesa chuckled thickly, looking up to see a pair of cartoony figures painted on the wall next to the bathroom door. The Sinner was absolutely sure they hadn't been there an hour ago. His thick, amphibious lips curled into snarl; fucking vandalizing brats! They looked… weird. Like some kind of modern art piece, with features being represented with hard, angular shapes and geometric patterns. The vandalism portrayed a black hellhound and a smaller baphomet, unmistakable looks of shock on their faces./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Then, one blinked./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" A speech bubble appeared over the baphomet's head. "He can't hear us, right?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Maybe? I-I don't know!" The speech bubble over the hellhound replied. "Sh-shut up anyway!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Don't tell me to shut up!" The baphomet replied./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I'll tell you to do whatever the fuck I like!" The hellhound said, her letters wiggling with agitation. "This is all your fault! What were you thinking?!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I was getting us out of trouble!" The baphomet retorted. "We get that Arrow back to Mr. Nightmare without him noticing and we'll be in the clear! What, you think Setty'll snitch on us? Not to a smelly Sinner!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I meant, what were you thinking throwing Setty out the window?!" The hellhound said, eyes moving to glare at the smaller character. "Is she even alive? Did you kill her?!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "What? No! I just swapped her location aspect with the lug-nut's. She's fine! So as soon as this ugly smelly faller–uh, why is he looking at us like that?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "What the fuck is going on?" Surf Mesa croaked, hoarsely./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I thought he couldn't hear us!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I never said he couldn't!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Uh…" The Sinner said, belatedly. "I can't? I'm, uh, readin' yer, uh, lines?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh!" The baphomet 'said' looking up. "I don't see anything. Patty? Do you see anyth–Patty?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh, shit." The hellhound cartoon's eyes widened. "Setty."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Surf Mesa spun about to see Setty standing before him, her rose-pink eyes glaring at the wall behind him. The hall had been empty before. Where'd she come from? Why wasn't she in the bathroom tackling The Clog?!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "And what the fuck d'you think you're doin' out here, hooer?" Surf Mesa growled. "You don't leave until I…" Setty's feet left the ground, the girl rising up and up until she was eye-level with him, the air around her giving off a queer, dry, staticky sensation. "Say… so? How're you doin'–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Her hand shot out faster than he could blink, faster that he could see, her steel-hard fingers grasped his skull and slammed it into the concrete wall with the force of a pneumatic ram. Pain and light exploded behind his eyes as he felt his skull creak, momentarily deform, but thankfully hold. Surf Mesa slumped against the wall, sliding down it. The world was going dark, his mind seeping out what felt like a hole of raw agony in the back of his head. In his last seconds of consciousness he heard Setty shout: "Don't you run from me, you little bitches! Get bac–!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Blackness./p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
hr style="color: #000000;" /
p data-xf-p="1"strongAuthor's Note:/strong/p
p data-xf-p="1" Man, these kids really need to learn the finer points of deescalation./p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1"So there'll be one more chapter of this and then one more short story centered around Ena and Dew, and then it'll be the finale we've all been waiting for Lady Belladonna's Terrible Awful No Good Very Bad Day!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Patty power walked down the hallway towards the med-ward. That had been close, that had been too Sins-Damned close! But, it was informative. Red Nightmare was the one spreading superpowers, or 'Stands' to the kids of the 'Donna, slowly but surely building an army presumably to overthrow Belladonna. But, he'd been Dealt With, forced into a Pact of some kind to the cruel, paranoid old sow. So, he was building his forces slowly, patiently, in secret, and San, the impulsive mooncase, was about to blow the whole lid off that operation! What would Boss Lady do if she found out? Do to the kids Red had 'blessed'? Nothing good, that's for sure! She had to find San, had to slap some sense into her, to take that damned Arrow back and return it to its rightful, terrifying owner./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" But first, she needed that day-pass./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She pushed open the door to the med-ward and stepped in. Doc Habbo was sitting behind his desk, looking up from a dossier and arching an eyebrow. "Yes? Can I help you?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Uhh…" She mumbled, steeling herself to talk straight and clear. "W-worked too hard. T-tired. M-Mr. N-Nightmare told me t-t-t–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Red?" Doc Habbo perked up, nodding. "Gotcha. Salt-tablets and a day-pass. Sorry, I don't see you Home Ec kids down here much, what's your name?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "P-Patty," she said, breathing a silent sigh of relief./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He pulled out a small laminated card on a lanyard and wrote on it, handing it to her. "There you go. Just a moment, I'll grab the salt-tablets."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She took it and nodded, saying nothing as the apish Sinner stood up and waddled over to the apothecary. She looked around the ward as he did, noticing a form laying in one of the cots. It was Emerson, one of the Staff for the Shop and Acquisitions. Most of the kids who spoke of him did so derisively, but often just because of his offputting demeanor and unpleasant appearance. Patty had never heard of him abusing the kids in any particularly offensive way, as an unfortunately large – though smaller now, thanks to Red – number of Staff were known to do. No, out of the Staff, Emerson was known as 'mostly harmless'. Not one of the 'good ones' like Habbo and Laila, but not a hitter or diddler at least./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" The Sinner lay flat on the cot, his odd, visor-like eyes staring at the ceiling, seemingly in a trance. On impulse, Patty walked over to him, curious. He didn't seem to be hurt in any way, the damage he'd incurred during his bizarre assault on Red was already mostly healed./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Careful with that one, missy," said Habbo as he walked over to them. "Emerson here seems to have suffered some kind of mental break."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She turned to look at Habbo, in his hand a small plastic bag holding four white tablets. "Mental b-break?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Habbo nodded, tapping his temple. "Came in here the other day complaining of visions. Said he could see the future, but also all the other potentials therein. Something about a 'time razor'?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "…A trillion different realities folding onto each other like thin sheets of metal forming a single blade…" Emerson muttered, still staring at the ceiling. "The Time Knife hangs in the void of probability, where all and nothing both exist and don't until observed and are made manifest. My mind is a battlefield between Fate and Free Will. All of reality is predicated upon the internecine conflict between cosmic forces, always clashing and resolving within my brain every second of every minute of every hour of every day…"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "The Time Knife, right," grunted Habbo, turning to Patty. "Had to give him a pop of benzos to stop him from raving."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "All would scream in existential horror if they saw emstrongTHE TIME KNIFE!/strong/em" Emerson wailed, suddenly turning to face them, his visor-eyes glitching and twitching, his expression one of pure misery. "…I wanted to be a baker. I just wanna make cakes but the Knife won't emlet me!/em"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Habbo reached into his pocket and produced a Bart Simpson Pez-Dispenser, popping a pill out and handing it to the broken demon. "Open up, Emerson."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Emerson did and swallowed the pill dry, sobbing quietly as he turned back to the ceiling./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Habbo led Patty away, sighing. "Poor soul. He's just too high-strung. He never was cut out for this kind of work. I knew this was coming ever since he attacked Red. I'll have to open a psych-ward at the rate the Staff are going daffy-ducky."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Patty looked back over her shoulder. Emerson was an Acquisitions Staffer, like Red, which meant they were based out of the Shop more often than not, with San. "W-when did he s-start feeling this way?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Habbo eyed her up a moment, shrugging. "According to him, this has been going on for a few days. Started up one morning and never stopped. He only just today came to me begging for tranqs. Why?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "N-no reason," she said, quickly. "Th-thank for the day-pass, Doc."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He watched her for a moment before nodding, handing her the salt tablets. "Take one of these dissolved in a large cup of water. One right now and one before bed. Get lots of rest and drink plenty of water. If you still feel strung out tomorrow morning, repeat the process with the other two tablets."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Th-thanks, Doc," said Patty, taking the tablets and turning to leave./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She had to find San, to set things right. Red's plan had to move forward if she and her friends were to be free./p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr-3" style="color: #000000;" /
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew turned the wrench, loosening a nut. He pulled off the wrench, hissing a curse as the nut stuck to the tines, popping off and plummeting into the car frame. Dew growled a string of unspeakably foul curses as he looked into the frame for the nut, not seeing it but dreading the damned thing had likely fallen into one of the gaps in the frame. He threw down the wrench and stormed off towards his toolkit, rifling through it for the flexible pick-up tool. Sod's law would no doubt have it he'd have to pull out the block in order to retrieve the fucking thing./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Klk."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew turned around to see Syx, the tall, wiry imp studying the situation sightlessly. Ever since Acquisitions had temporarily shut down, the dour, stone-faced teen had been wandering about, picking up odd jobs. Syx was no gearhead, but he could turn a wrench and follow directions well enough. Dew pondered sourly if he could use his blind-guy powers to echolocate the nut or something. He knew better than to ask, though. Not even he messed with Syx./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Hey, Syx," said Dew, gruffly. "Need something?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Klk," said Syx, jabbing a thumb at the car. "Klk-klk?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Aw, just lost a nut in the abyss," grumbled Dew. "Probably gonna be wasting all day fishing the fuckin' thing outta there. Even if San fixes that turbo, we can't roll it out with a wild nut at large. Fuck!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Syx pointed to himself and then at the car. "Klk-klk?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew shrugged. "Hey, man, if you think you can help, have at 'er."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Syx stepped over and reached his arm down into the engine space, between the frame and block. Dew sighed in frustration, if he could have reached the thing, he wouldn't have gotten the pick-up tool! Humoring the blind kid was just wasting his fucking time! /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Then, something happened. It was brief, whatever it was, like a shudder, rippling through his body. His clothes lifted off of him, his hair shifting, for a brief instant he even felt his feet begin to leave the ground! Then, it was over. His feet thudded lightly on the floor as he dropped an imperceptibly tiny distance. What the Abyss was that?!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Klk-klk," said Syx, pulling his arm out of the car and handing the nut to him./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Uh…" Dew said, perplexed before taking it. "Thanks…"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Klk-klk," said Syx, turning away and heading off into the Shop./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew watched as Syx strolled imperiously through the Shop, effortlessly avoiding loose parts and tools scattered across the floor around the various projects. Something weird was going on…/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Heya Mountain Dew!" A high, somewhat manic voice said behind him. "I did the thing!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew turned around to see the grinning visage of San, the resident gadgeteer genius and mildly infuriating weirdo. Clutched in her skinny arms was the bricked turbo. It looked… different somehow. The car and its engine had been in relatively good condition, not too much mileage but not off-the-lot by longshot: this turbo was emnew/em./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Thanks, San," he said, taking it from her, shaking it to listen for any of the debris of the shattered blade, hearing none. "Damn! How'd you even do that?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Magic! Snrk-snrk!" San replied, snorting a laugh. "Welp! I'm off on my lunch break! If you need any more miracles, just leave 'em in my station, Dew-Dew!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew watched her skip away towards her station, grabbing up her lunchbox and heading for an open bay door. His eyes narrowed: oh yes, something weird was going on./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Hey, Dew!" Tolly said, walking over. "Oh, hey! That the turbo?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "No, it's a sandwich," grumbled Dew, shoving the part into the other kid's arms. "Strap that on and get the rig ready for a test run. I'm takin' my lunchbreak."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I…" Tolly began to say, only for Dew to set off without saying another word. "…Right."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr-3" style="color: #000000;" /
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San sat on the bench outside the Shop, cracking open her lunchbox and pulling out one of the messily wrapped sloppy joes the Cafeteria had whipped up that morning. Most kids would grouse and grumble about the 'mystery meat' and how they 'knew a kid' who swore they saw the lunchladies hauling in bags of roadkill or taking out bags of empty dog-food or some such. 'On Satan' would usually follow these claims along with the usual laughs of disgust. San didn't care. Sloppy Joes tasted like food and stayed down, usually, so they were the best! Still, it was awfully nice when Mr. Nightmare showed up with all those Beelzeburgers with their greasy meat and greasier fries. No way someone who did that could be a meanie! Still, Patty had gotten it into her head that Mr. Nightmare was, in fact, a big scary meanie and asked her to return the Arrow. Normally, San would take note of the objections of others and weigh them against doing something cool and that would be all she wrote! /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Like that time she installed a flamethrower on one of the box-trucks to stop people from stealing them. Fuddy-duddies like Paq told her it was a bad idea, but Dew seemed to think it was funny, especially when Evil Eye Watkins set himself on fire by tugging on the door handle without unlocking it first. Evil Eye sure was mad, but he was a mega-meanie, so she didn't care. Huh. Come to think about it, she hadn't seen Evil Eye around for a few months now. Him or Strokes, another meanie. She wondered what happened to them before remembering her previous line of thought./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" 'emPatty's gotta stop being such a worry-berry!/em' The thought to herself, churlishly. 'emLike, an /emactual magic arrowem that gives people powers? That's /emso cool!em Patty's Stand is so cool and weird, like her paintings! What's not to like?/em'/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Still, if Patty told her to give it back, she would. Patty was San's best friend, and not like Dew or Tolly or that dying rat she found a few days ago – rest in peace Mr. Twitchy – Patty was her bestest best friend, and if giving that cool shiny Arrow back to that dumb smelly Sinner would make her happy, she would do it. She just had to figure out a way to give it back without Mr. Nightmare knowing it was ever gone. No fuss, no muss, no angry voices or mean words. That could be tricky, though, since taking the thing and replacing it with her perfect replica had been plenty tricksome!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" [Stealers Wheel] was the coolest Stand around, and so so useful, but it had some… quirks. For one, you couldn't just take something, you had to replace it with something else, otherwise it was a no-go. So, just swap the fake thing with the real thing, right? Not so, bozo! You had to know what you were swapping and San would admit now that her notion of 'cool magic dealie' was vague at best. The first… emthing/em she'd pulled from Red Nightmare as he addressed the room that morning those days ago had been weird. emReally/em weird. It had no form her Stand could manifest, at least not one that didn't make her smell burning wires with her eyeballs. [Stealers Wheel] could grab and swap not only physical aspects of things, but other stuff too. Not-really-real things like memories and interests and preferences for color. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Like when Meanie Mr. Diamanti saw her using her Stand, like, actually emsaw/em her using it, which Sinners weren't supposed to be able to do. Weird, but not a problem. He began to harumph and tick-tock like a fat, ugly clock, demanding where she got it and how. So she swapped his memory of it with the memory of her Hellphone, specifically a Klip-Klop video of a fat imp in a speedo twerking to a Verosikka Mayday song. Naturally, he'd forgotten he'd seen her using her Stand, his stupid clockwork face curdling in disgust and confusion at the funny video playing in his brain./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" What had she been thinking about?/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Oh, right! Mr. Nightmare!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She had tried to void the exchange by selecting Mr. Nightmare again when dumb ol' Emerson strolled into her reticule! What came out of the smelly slugman was a lot easier to understand, cakes and tarts and other tasty treats, but how annoying! She was still getting the hang of her Stand's interface, not yet knowing she could just send everything back from whence it came by resetting the tiles. Mr. Nightmare began to wrap up the meeting and head out, meaning she'd have to wait emwhole hours/em before she could try again. San would admit that she may have been a little careless in the ensuing swap-out, fumbling a tile here and there, but soon the tiles were clear and she had it! 'Cool magic arrow' had been the ticket! Swip-swap-blip-blop and the Arrow was hers, her replica now nestled snugly in Mr. Nightmare's pocket./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" It was the perfect crime./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Now that she knew how to handle her Stand better, it should be emway/em easier to put it back! She hoped. She just had to find Mr. Nightmare and do the ol' switcheroo, preferably where he couldn't see her using her Stand, but where she could see him. Ooh! Patty's [t.A.T.u] could do that, easy! Just make them both into funny-looking pictures and creep up on Mr. Nightmare. So long as they didn't move when he was looking at them, he'd just think they were graffiti or something!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Keh-heh-heh…" San geckered through a mouthful of Sloppy Joe. "Sanny, you're a genius~"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah, I'll say," said a voice behind her./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She turned around to see Dew standing there, lunchbox in his hand. "Huh? Dew?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Scoot," he grunted, sitting next to her on the bench./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San watched as he did. Since when did Dew sit with her? Usually, he'd set down by himself somewhere and those brave enough – like San – would sit next to him. He emnever/em went and sat down next to someone else. And what was that he said? He agreed that she's a genius? Well, he should, but Dew never said nice things to people, even his friends. He'd always just grunt and nod when someone said something nice to him, or if they did a good job he'd tell them to 'keep it up' at most. Yet here he was, sitting next to her and saying nice things./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Uh, heya, Mountain Dew," said San, slightly perplexed. "What's up?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I could ask the same," said Dew, opening his lunchbox./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He pulled out a brick of 'loaf', the 'Donna's version of meatloaf that looked and tasted like second-hand dog-food. Most kids hated it, and Dew couldn't really be said to like emanything /emthat wasn't his little sister, Ena – who San emadored/em – but the congealed bricks of protein and starch seemed to be the only things that could keep up with the beastly boy, his metabolism just as bullish as the rest of him. Even though he and San were about the same age, Dew was near 5'10 and built, with long toned limbs, a narrow waist, and a broad, densely muscled torso. Some kids joked he'd be near seven-foot by the time he left the 'Donna, and San was sure he wouldn't be any size to joke around with by then./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Wait, what did he say?/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Going on?" San said, unconsciously reaching for her breast pocket, to where emit/em was. "Nothing! Nothing's going on! Nope nope!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew eyed her up for a moment, his deep red eyes narrowing before shrugging his bullish shoulders. "Alright. I just noticed you havin' a bug in your bonnet about something."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Aww! He cared! /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Wait…/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Actually…" she drawled, swallowing her mouthful. "You, like, spend lots of time with Mr. Nightmare, right?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew quirked an eyebrow at this before turning away from her. "Not really."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "But more than, say, me, yeah?" She said, mock-driving a car. "Going out, stealin' cars, working with Acquisitions. Mr. Nightmare's out there, too, yeah?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah," said Dew, biting off another chunk of loaf. "He's our 'negotiator'."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Wuzzat mean?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "When we get into trouble we can't handle, he gets us out of trouble," said Dew, chewing. "Usually by smearin' fools."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Right, right" San nodded, now we're talkin'! "So, like, what's he like?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Whadaya mean 'what's he like'?" Dew said, swallowing. "He's Staff. A Faller."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah, but, they's not all the same," said San. "Like we got the lunchladies, Laila, and Doc, but we also got Diamanti, Evil Eye, and Strokes, yeah?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Had." Dew almost smirked. "We emhad/em Evil Eye and Strokes."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Whatever," she said, shaking her head. "Who's he like?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "You're asking if he's one of the Good Ones?" Dew asked./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "No."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San paused, she hadn't heard anything bad about Mr. Nightmare. "What do you mean?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I mean he ain't like them."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "How?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew sighed, scowling into the middle distance. "Dunno. He just ain't. He's different."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San could tell that not even Dew was sure, or at least couldn't put the feeling to words, so she opted not to press it and got back on topic. "Well… what's he like with the kids?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "He's Staff," grunted Dew. "He tells us what to do and we do it."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "And when we don't?" San pressed, leaning in. "What's he like when he gets mad?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Red don't get mad."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San blinked, confused. "But… okay, like, say a kid messes up real bad, or steals the wrong thing or something? What does he do?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew paused, brow furrowing. It didn't take a genius like her to figure out Dew wasn't exactly the most articulate person. Not dumb by any means, but also not gifted in the art of putting his thoughts and feelings to words, hence his tendency to throw parts, tools, and other kids when annoyed./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "He gets…" Dew began to say, struggling, before shaking his head and waving her off. "He don't get mad. He don't holler or cuss us out or nothing. He don't hit us, either. At least I've never seen or heard of him hittin' a kid. Worst I've seen him with us is… miffed? Yeah, he got miffed at me and Syx when we tried to boost that Viper a while back."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh yeah! I remember that!" San exclaimed, nodding. "Phwoo! What a rocket!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Psh." Dew scoffed. "Piece of shit shifted gears like a jackhammer and handled like a shopping cart."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh, but emsoooo shiny~/em" San cooed./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Sexy as Setty, for sure," he said, nodding./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Shoot, right! Back on topic! "But he got miffed? What'd he do?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Told us off?" Dew shrugged. "Told us not to do it again? I dunno. The guy's usually really chill, smilin' and stuff, so it stood out when he stopped. In fact, he don't really seem to get mad, even when he's sortin' out trouble."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San pondered this for a moment; this was promising for her. If Red didn't get mad at kids even when they mucked about, maybe he wouldn't get mad at her? Maybe she could just give it back and he'd be 'really chill', too? "What's he do to 'em? The people who give us trouble?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh, man…" Dew blew out an impressed whistle. "He emfucks them up./em"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" emOh./em "Oh."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah, like, when I tried to boost that Viper, right?" Dew said, excitement creeping into his voice. "Some gangsters showed up and started sounding off and he grabbed the leader by the ankle and just–" Dew raised his hand over his head and swung it down and mimicked a gooey 'splat'. "–like that. She blew open like a trash bag fulla guts! It was pretty cool."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San went pale, looking down at her suddenly very unappetising Sloppy Joe. "Y-yeah, sounds… cool."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "This other time, yeah?" Dew continued. "He reached down this guy's throat up to the elbow and –whuh-pish!– flicked him inside-out like a sock! And this other time, On Satan, he punched a guy's entire body off. Like POW and he was just a pair of legs standing there! Wish I could–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "A-anyway, thanks for the talk, Dew, but I gotta go!" San said, tucking away her lunch and hopping to her hooves./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" A steely, calloused hand shot out and wrapped around her wiry arm. San squawked as she was effortlessly hauled back, her face pressed into his hard, muscular body as his arm closed around her shoulders with all the warmth and mercy of a wrath-steel bear-trap./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "What's goin' on, San?" He whispered in her ear. "Something weird is goin' down and you're part of it."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "What? Nooo~ Dew-Dew, I just–URK!" She began to say before he squeezed her against him, a sensation not unlike being pressed against a concrete pillar. He released most of the pressure once he'd made his point./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Can it. I ain't stupid, San," growled Dew, still whispering. "Setty and Syx, then a buncha others, and now you. You're all actin' weird, and doin' weird shit. That turbo was bricked, San, but you handed me a emnew/em one. Mint, factory mint. How'd you do that?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I…" She croaked. "I can't–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "It's Red, isn't it?" Dew asked, leaning towards her. "He's up to something, isn't he? Doin' something to you guys. What's he up to?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "It's… a secret," she said, not meeting his gaze. "I-I'm sorry. I can't say anything, not right now. B-but it's not a bad thing! It's really, really cool and you'll be in on it soon! Look, Dew, I'm sorry, but I think I messed up real bad and I gotta go fix it! Please!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "What is it?" Dew stared at her for a time, scanning her face for any sign of deception. San knew that Dew knew that trying to get a 'Donna kid to rat on one another was like trying to undo a lug nut with a screwdriver. The larger boy sighed and released her. "I'll be in on it?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Soon!" San said, jumping to her hooves. "Real soon! See ya, Mountain Dew!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San scampered across the parking lot and towards the courtyard. She had to hurry! Oh, boy did she have to hurry! Mr. Nightmare didn't yell or cuss or hit, he didn't even seem to emget/em angry… even when turning fools into Sloppy Joes. She had to return the Arrow, and quiet-like, and for that, she'd need Patty./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Dew watched as the manic baphomet scuttled away, a consternated scowl on his face./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Soon, huh?" He muttered to himself, lifting his hand and opening his palm and the shining, richly carved arrowhead there. The thing seemed to hum, to vibrate, a sensation that was neither heard nor really felt, but also was. He pocketed the weird thing. "Yeah. Real soon."/p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr-3" style="color: #000000;" /
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" The girl's bathroom was empty, silent save for the sloshing of water and near-unending stream of muttered obscenities issuing from the blocked-off center stall. Setty stood over the toilet, manfully jostling a plunger back and forth, up and down, as she tried to disinter a stubborn clog. The center stall in this 10-stall bathroom had been blocked for a year at least, not even Surf Mesa could unblock it. Though, considering the mean old shithead's attitude towards Hellborn, that was either due to apathy or spite. Still, considering there were all of two girl's bathrooms in the whole building, that meant that even one stall being out of order often meant lines of uncomfortable, straining girls during rush-hour. Despite this, the idea of whatever it was being able to fight off a pipe-router fed the imagination of the kids. Some of the more superstitious lot even feared what might be unleashed should The Clog be disturbed. For herself, Setty wasn't opposed to the idea of getting the chance to kill something./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Custodial Duty was emthe worst/em. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" There was a reason it was the go-to punishment for kids who underperformed. A beating would be over relatively quickly, and their hardy Hellborn bodies would bounce back in a few days, but there was a special sort of hopelessness that came with perpetually cleaning up after a couple hundred rowdy, scrappy kids. Setty recalled overhearing some younger boys speculating about the lady's room, wondering just what went on in there, innocently assured that there was no way pretty ladies could be gross. She smirked at the time, knowing full well the truth of the matter. She found it a lot less funny now that she battled The Clog for supremacy. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" In truth, her [Titanium] could make short work of the thing (she hoped), but the more time she wasted in here, the less likely that miserable old Sinner Surf Mesa would throw her at an even worse job. The Groundskeeper was unique among the 'Donna Staff. Not in that he made no secret of his utter contempt for their kind – Asmodeus knew there were plenty of those types about – but that despite his very open bigotry he never really emdid/em anything. He never beat the kids, despite Belladonna in no way forbidding such 'punitive incentives'. He never gave so much as a shove or a slap, not even with the kids on punishment duty. He just talked shit like a backed up crapper. Lucky for him, too, Setty wasn't sure if she could stop herself from punching his ugly face into an uglier crater if he so much as touched her./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" The old pneumatic spring on the door groaned and creaked as the door opened. Setty gasped, horrified at the idea of any of the girls seeing her on custodial duty. She attempted to climb up onto the bowl before, with a self-chiding smack to her forehead, levitating off the floor./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Is the coast clear?" A voice said,it sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place it./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" A pause ensued as the second girl checked the stalls for feet. "Y-yeah. Clear."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty cocked her head, recognizing Patty's voice. Lunch break was over, so what was she doing here?/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "So glad I ran into you, Patty-Cake," said the other girl, her tone frantic. "I messed up, Patty! I messed up so so bad!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh, you think?" Patty replied, her voice a far cry from the stammering mutter Setty often struggled to hear. "And emI/emfound emyou/em, San!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San! Of course! She was that excitable little baphomet from the Shop that Red had selected. Setty herself didn't know her that well, but according to Syx she was a talkative cloudhead and outright agent of Chaos with a peerless knack for machines, gadgetry, and setting things on fire. In fact, Syx had even expressed mild concern at Red's decision to give her of all kids a… Stand./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty leaned in, peering through the crack in the door: this was trouble./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Whatever, look, turns out, Mr. Nightmare's actually emreally/em scary! We gotta give it back!" The wiry little baphomet continued, her rapid gesticulating matching her motormouth. "If we don't, we're in big big big messy trouble!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "We? Where's 'we' coming from?" The pitch-black hellhound said, folding her arms across her chest. "You're the one who stole the Arrow!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" SHE emDID/em emstrongWHAT?!/strong/em/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty torturously fought the urge to bust out right now and apprehend the little shits, to slap some sense into them and drag them to Red. But she relented, it was snap judgements like that that got her into trouble before. There was too much she didn't know, chief among them why the everloving fuck anyone would – or could – steal emanything/em from Red Nightmare, much less the Arrow./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah, I guess! Whatever!" San replied, waving her off. "But now you gotta Stand, too! Mr. Nightmare's been giving us Stands for some reason and he doesn't get angry but he kills people real bad even when he's not and if he finds out I stole it he might get miffed at us Patty emMIFFED!/em"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Calm down!" Patty exclaimed, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Breathe… breathe… pistons… gearboxes… catalytic converters…"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San inhaled slowly and exhaled, visibly calming down. "Camshaft pulleys… timing belts… turbos… okay. Okay, I'm calm."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Patty's hand streaked out and slapped her hard across the face./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oww!" San cried. "I said I was caaaalm!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I know," Patty grumbled. "That was for starting all this bullshit. Now, listen. I did some snooping. Red's planning on taking over the 'Donna, but he's been Dealt With, so he's been giving us kids powers so we can help him do her in. Considering Boss Lady hasn't gone nuclear, I'd bet she doesn't know. She doesn't know because Red's been very sly about emwho/em he's giving powers to, hoping to make enough of us to, I dunno, take her out when the time comes."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "And I messed all that up!" San exclaimed. "When he finds out, he's gonna mess emme/em up! Turn me into a Sloppy Joe! A Sloppy San!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "He's not going to find out, San," said Patty, sternly. "Because you're going to give it back emright now/em, understood?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah yeah yeah!" San said, nodding frantically. "I got it aaall figured out, kay? S'why I was looking for you, actually! What we're gonna do is find Mr. Nightmare and you're gonna turn us into pictures so I can get close enough to use [Stealers Wheel] to swap the real one with the fake one!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Swap? Setty narrowed her eyes. Is that how she did it?/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "You're sure you can do it without getting noticed?" Patty inquired, skeptical./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh, sure!" She said, suddenly sounding very proud of herself. "I did it before, didn't I? And I'm waaaay better at using my Stand now! So long as smelly Emerson stays outta the way, it'll aaall go smooth as Valvoline!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Wait…" Patty said, eyes narrowing. "Emerson? What happened with Emerson?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Huh? Oh. When I was first trying to swap out the Arrow, Emerson walked into my sights and I accidentally pulled some stuff outta him. A memory or something. No biggie."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "…Was it baking?" Patty asked./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah! Cakes and pies and stuff!" San chirped. "How'd you know?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Emerson wanted to be a baker…"Patty murmured, before shaking her head. "Nevermind! What's important now is that we get the Arrow back to Mr. Nightmare."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Get emwhat/em back to Mr. Nightmare?" Setty let herself drop, her workboots clacking on the linoleum. She opened the door and strolled out, hands on her hips and an unimpressed scowl on her face. "Hey girls~ Lunchtime ended twenty minutes ago. Dotcha know playin' hookie is against the rules? Tch-tch-tch. Trouble trouble. emBig/em trouble."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "S-s-s-s-s-s-s-suh-suh-suh…" Patty sputtered, her eyes red and orange dinnerplates in the toneless black of her fur./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Uhh…" San croaked. "S-Setty! Hey! Uh, emlove/em the coveralls! You really pull 'em off! Didja hear all that just now oh it's just a funny game Patty and I–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Shut up," Setty growled, causing San's mouth to snap shut like a steel trap. Setty turned to Patty, eyeing her up. "So. Stand-User, huh?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Heeeeeeee…" Patty whined, shying away from her glare./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Funny thing about that. See, me and Syx, we scout out talent for Mr. Nightmare. Find which kids we think will get the best results," said Setty crossing her arms as she walked over to the petrified hellhound. "But I don't remember ever picking you, 'Patty-Cake'. Was it Syx? Is he sweet on you or something? I can see it. You're just about the only kid around quieter than him."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Setty, please!" San cried, stepping between them. "It's my fault! I–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Yeah, I heard everything, I was just fucking with you." Setty said, turning back to San, the glare on her face making her flinch back. "You stole the Arrow from Red Nightmare? Why? By Satan's Scrote, why?!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I…" San said, smiling nervously as she shrugged. "I thought it'd be cool?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty's face dropped, her anger momentarily snuffed by sheer incredulity. "What."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Stands are cool!" San chirped, apparently glad the angry voice had vanished. "So so cool! I wanted to see what the other kids' Stands were like!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty boggled at the baphomet for a hot second, turning to Patty, her expression questioning. Patty, looking embarrassed despite her mortification, nodded./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "And it's so unfair!" San cried, stepping forward defiantly. "Why can't they all have Stands? Why do you and Syx gotta pick 'em and leave the others out? 'Donna kids stick together, we're all we got!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Enough!" Setty barked, holding her hand out. "Give me the Arrow. I'll give it back to Red and you two are going to personally apologize to him."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San nodded, sadly, reaching behind her, hand slipping into her back pocket. "I'm sorry, Setty. Please don't be mad."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "It's not me you need to apologize to," she said, sternly./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "No, really," said San, her eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" San leapt backwards and hurled a lug-nut the size of a plum. The dense lump of metal streaked through the air, Setty's enhanced senses easily tracking the lug as it trundled through the air, missing her entirely and shattering a windowpane. It bounced harmlessly on the courtyard pavement moments later./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Really not doing yourself any favors, here, kid," Setty scoffed, turning her head back to the girl. "Any more bright ideas?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" She turned to see San, a glowing tile game floating in the air in front of her. "Just one."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" A tile clicked into an open space and Setty was gone, the lug-nut clattering to the linoleum. Setty was suddenly standing in the courtyard, two storeys below the broken window of the girl's bathroom./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Setty grit her teeth, her aura writhing as outrage and fury bubbled up within her. "emstrong[Titanium]/strong/em."/p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr-3" style="color: #000000;" /
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Surf Mesa shuffled down the hallway, hauling a mop and bucket on wheels. He'd just touched bases with the Cafeteria and they'd kindly supplied him with the next torment for his ward. If that little lustringer skank thought she could waste her punishment tackling The Clog, she had another thing coming! The primary grease-trap of the kitchen had scabbed over with whatever hideous slop Boss Lady was generous enough to feed these creatures. They needed someone to climb inside and bust up the hard bits before they could vacuum the whole thing out. After that, the sneering succubus would be a greasy little cooze in more ways than one!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Ringscrapers. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" 'Hellborn'. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Bah! /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Could anything be said to be 'born' down here? Birth was the right of natural creatures, the ones God emmeant/em to create. All the forums and chatrooms and conventions he attended postulated that ringscrapers weren't actually alive, at least not in the ways Humans or natural life was. Instead, they were lumps of aether powered by Hell-energy that coagulated into some obscene mockery of life, eventually evolving in the various races blighting this pit. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Surf Mesa didn't think so. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He was of the opinion that they were mistakes, or, rather, imperfect prototypes of life God quietly brushed under the metaphysical rug that was the Abyssal Plane. There they would scrabble and fester until the Fallen put them in their rightful place, under the heels of their betters. The most obvious evidence of this was their lack of Souls, their lack of permanent metaphysical presence. When the beasts died, they were gone. No Double Hell for them. Humans had Souls, they were meant to persist into perpetuity, and even the blasphemous Fallen were former Angels, intentionally crafted to serve an eternal purpose, one they refused to participate in, but still. Not ringscrapers. They were tumors of aether animated by Hell-energy, each bearing some twisted visage reminiscent of natural life. At least Sinners looked the way they did as a punishment! Ringscrapers were just born that way, therefore they had to be ancient, malformed prototypes of natural life. /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He was gratified to learn the other day that his theory was starting to take off in his online circles. Maybe, one day, they'd hit the mainstream and Pride would start treating these things how they ought to be treated! It ate at him to see ringscrapers shacked up in better apartments than him, to see them open businesses, some even became actual fucking celebrities. It was an affront to the natural order. And of course, despite being given these opportunities the foul things still had the unmitigated gall to cry about oppression and discrimination! That they dared test the largess of their betters only strengthened his resolve to put these uppity abominations in their place whenever he could./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" …Verbally./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" He turned the corner to where the girl's bathroom was, smirking as he imagined the look on the little slut's face when he broke the good news. Her outrage and disgust just barely kept in place by her instinctive knowledge of her place in the order of things, helpless to resist. Surf Mesa chuckled thickly, looking up to see a pair of cartoony figures painted on the wall next to the bathroom door. The Sinner was absolutely sure they hadn't been there an hour ago. His thick, amphibious lips curled into snarl; fucking vandalizing brats! They looked… weird. Like some kind of modern art piece, with features being represented with hard, angular shapes and geometric patterns. The vandalism portrayed a black hellhound and a smaller baphomet, unmistakable looks of shock on their faces./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Then, one blinked./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" A speech bubble appeared over the baphomet's head. "He can't hear us, right?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Maybe? I-I don't know!" The speech bubble over the hellhound replied. "Sh-shut up anyway!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Don't tell me to shut up!" The baphomet replied./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I'll tell you to do whatever the fuck I like!" The hellhound said, her letters wiggling with agitation. "This is all your fault! What were you thinking?!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I was getting us out of trouble!" The baphomet retorted. "We get that Arrow back to Mr. Nightmare without him noticing and we'll be in the clear! What, you think Setty'll snitch on us? Not to a smelly Sinner!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I meant, what were you thinking throwing Setty out the window?!" The hellhound said, eyes moving to glare at the smaller character. "Is she even alive? Did you kill her?!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "What? No! I just swapped her location aspect with the lug-nut's. She's fine! So as soon as this ugly smelly faller–uh, why is he looking at us like that?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "What the fuck is going on?" Surf Mesa croaked, hoarsely./p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I thought he couldn't hear us!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "I never said he couldn't!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Uh…" The Sinner said, belatedly. "I can't? I'm, uh, readin' yer, uh, lines?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh!" The baphomet 'said' looking up. "I don't see anything. Patty? Do you see anyth–Patty?"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "Oh, shit." The hellhound cartoon's eyes widened. "Setty."/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Surf Mesa spun about to see Setty standing before him, her rose-pink eyes glaring at the wall behind him. The hall had been empty before. Where'd she come from? Why wasn't she in the bathroom tackling The Clog?!/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" "And what the fuck d'you think you're doin' out here, hooer?" Surf Mesa growled. "You don't leave until I…" Setty's feet left the ground, the girl rising up and up until she was eye-level with him, the air around her giving off a queer, dry, staticky sensation. "Say… so? How're you doin'–"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Her hand shot out faster than he could blink, faster that he could see, her steel-hard fingers grasped his skull and slammed it into the concrete wall with the force of a pneumatic ram. Pain and light exploded behind his eyes as he felt his skull creak, momentarily deform, but thankfully hold. Surf Mesa slumped against the wall, sliding down it. The world was going dark, his mind seeping out what felt like a hole of raw agony in the back of his head. In his last seconds of consciousness he heard Setty shout: "Don't you run from me, you little bitches! Get bac–!"/p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" /p
p dir="ltr" data-xf-p="1" Blackness./p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
hr style="color: #000000;" /
p data-xf-p="1"strongAuthor's Note:/strong/p
p data-xf-p="1" Man, these kids really need to learn the finer points of deescalation./p
p data-xf-p="1" /p
p data-xf-p="1"So there'll be one more chapter of this and then one more short story centered around Ena and Dew, and then it'll be the finale we've all been waiting for Lady Belladonna's Terrible Awful No Good Very Bad Day!/p
