SEONG0X-0.0.1B/AKCN.3.1600


It was late by the time I got back, lobby had all the life of a post-apocalyptic knitting convention and not one soul walked the hallways, barely any staff either. At least it meant no one stared uncomfortably at the large, red hooded weirdo in the elevator but it still rubs me the wrong way being out in the open like this. Hiding in plain sight's one thing but what Sir's got us doing is the tactical equivalent of a peacock mating dance, only thing being set up in this fancy shmancy hotel will achieve is wooing the other guys out of hunting us.

It'd take a miracle to even work.

Whatever. The elevator stops at the ding and the doors slide open to a row of fine art and ornate doors you might see on the Titanic, easily worth double my salary in the Marines. It's impressive, even if it doesn't match a fraction of the suit's worth. I ignore each one heading down the hallway, moving on perfect memory until I reach mine, reach out for the handle, deploy intrusion measures to deal with the lock...

...and in the next second find myself all tied up with a pretty little bow.

The chains are tight and cover me from collar to ankle. I'd stay standing if they hadn't shot out of the hinges with all the force of a truck going sixty so I trip and fall, the crash loud enough to wake the neighbours. Somehow it doesn't, so instead I try flexing to break the chains. No use. I juice to a point I hear Maximum Power but even then, with my limited leverage it takes nearly 30 seconds to hear that crisp snap and I get only a moment to celebrate before I'm flipped on my face and just as stuck, the chains hissing as they tighten.

Great. Just great. This always happens to me, fucking always, I try to move onwards with my life, try to improve and scrounge together whatever scraps I can for a better life for myself, for Alice, but every time I get something worthwhile the Universe always slaps me in the face and makes it worse overall.

Alice. How long has it been since I saw my kid sister?

I crane my neck, see one of the paintings. It's a realistic piece and out of place considering the hotel's price tag but it's a beach with a guy and a girl, running about and having fun. Can't make out if they're supposed to be Japanese or whatever they're supposed to be but it doesn't matter, because right then I feel myself getting lost in that painting, imagining both of us without a care in the world, not bothered by the depreciating climate of home, nor the Ceph, the Grimm, SF cunts and definitely no Nanosuit worming its way into my brain or nutjob telling me what to do. Just me, just Alice and-

Something pulls me by the collar, I blink and I'm... on a ship? Sun's beating down on me and I'm already starting to sweat, rope prickles its way into my skin, the crash of the sea accompanied by seagulls and the stiff sea breeze shooting into my sinuses and I finally get my bearings, only just now realising I'm dressed in nothing but coarse pants. Where the fuck did the Nanosuit go?

"Blimey," I hear to my left, "this isn't spices."

To my left. Ostensibly a woman, young, black hair, Ajna tattoo on the forehead and dressed in a red coat, musket bayonet inches from my cheek. I blink again and I'm back in my second skin, the ship replaced with a spacious and messy suite, my kidnapper dressed in the usual pleated skirt, dress shirt and vest but this time with an oversized tricorn and a red Nerf blaster. "Sir, what are you-

"Well, well, well, just as I thought," he says, the illusion restoring as the bayonet pokes my cheek, "looks like we've caught ourselves a cowardly deserter!"

The illusion ends again the moment he shuts up. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but do you think you think you-

"Silence, you filthy Floridian!" Someone knocks on wood as the barrel meets my forehead. "By the command of the First Sea Lord, all traitors to the Crown are to be extrajudicially hung, drawn and quartered!"

I come back to SECOND alerting me to tactical options and waypoints dancing in my vision. "I'm from New Jersey, actua-

"But," lifting my chin with the barrel, "for such a handsome, rugged specimen such as yourself, I'm sure we could find a more appropriate use for you."

"Oh," finally getting it, "you mean you're going to colonise my Virgin Islands?"

Thought I was being clever by playing along but I'm given a look like... well, like I'd just come onto my boss.

Which I did.

And when Sir speaks again, we're not taken back to the ship. "Alcatraz, your line was, no, please, not the penal battalions, fucking faggot," and clubs me with the butt of the blaster. "And what the bloody Hell are you thinking of your goddamned superior, idiot?"

"Hey, it's not my fault you were coming onto-

"Implying," leaning in uncomfortably close.

"...Sir, what are you doing?"

A moment more of his glare lasts until he pulls out, groaning, snaps his fingers and the chains just slip off. "It's a standard gag, Alky, haven't you ever seen Dutch animation before?"

"Wasn't aware it was an industry," smoothing out my disguise.

"It's not." I look up at him as he throws the hat and blaster on the couch. "You actually played your role well right until the end there, so I'm surprised you don't know it. Sorry about the chains, by the way, I'm installing a security system on all our rooms, triggers whenever someone forces their way in. You might want to start using your keycard from now on."

"Sure," standing up. "What about the hallucination?"

"Oh that," waving his hand, "nothing special, just a little trick I've been working on for goofs like that. It was hard to maintain on you because of how weird your brain is, hooked up to that suit and all, so I had to let up when I stopped talking."

"Right. Where's Kousuke?"

"With Wibke and Billy," pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "Turns out dweebs and dorks actually are attracted to each other, believe it or not," he chuckled. "Hey, where are you going?"

I turn away from the door. "To see Kousuke."

"At this hour?" Looking at his wrist. His bare wrist.

"I'm making sure he's alright, my existence does depend on his survival."

"And so does Billy's on Wibke's. Alky, the kid's in the company of the third most capable mage I know and the man literally too angry to die, he'll be fine without you for a night." His eyebrows bounce, looks askance as he mouths, not least to mention you've been glued to his hip for nearly a month.

Disregarding the back talk, he's right, much as I hate to agree with him. Can't vouch for Wibke but Blaze is a carrier strike group personified, Hell, a nuclear deterrent all by himself. After all the heads I saw him delete, even I'd be safer with him. And the kid could do with some real alone time for a change. Question is, what do I do now?

"You could always hang with me."

I head for the door. "I'm good, I'll just be with Bones."

"Everyone is either out or shouldn't be disturbed. It's just you and me, Alcatraz." My hand stops on the handle, look over my shoulder. "Unless you want to go out for another walk and risk getting picked off by our opposition, you're better off in here."

Much as I want to disagree, that I can handle myself and that he knows it for a fact, if I don't agree he's probably going to chain me up again and force me to enjoy his weird interests. Or turn me into a rubber duck, whichever is worse. I turn back to him and sigh, "alright, I'll stick with you."

He smiles, bright and wide, even letting down whatever magic he's got to prove it down to the dopamine hopping over the neurons. "Great, what do you want to do?"

Considering how the evening's already gone, there's really only one thing I can say. "I don't know, what about that Dutch cartoon?"

"I was hoping you'd say that." Obviously. He jumps onto the couch, catching the remote as it bounces. "Let me just get the toob up on the TV, then we can see it."

I sit next to him, springs creaking under mine and the suit's combined mass. "How many episodes?"

"A pilot."

"A pilot?"

"Like I said, it's not an industry. At least, not yet, all things willing. Matter of fact, the pilot technically isn't even completed yet, there's only 15 minutes produced and we won't be getting the last two parts until March and October."

"So, I'm going to get a fatal case of blueballitis, is what you're saying."

"No, actually. Take note of how I said technically. Though they're not technically available, I do have my ways to get exactly what I want when I want and how I want." He finished with smug smile that was punchable in all ways from here to the fucking Moon.

"Good to know. What's it called, anyway?"

"Well, it's a Dutch word that doesn't have a strict equivalent in English, but it's..."


Author's Note: Weirdly not actually an Ongezellig fanfiction but I included it because it was honestly the most fun I had with this project. I intend to include it in Ludonarrative when the time eventually comes, probably spruced up so it fits better, but until then I'm going to be losing my mind.