Mid-life crisis ahoy!
Suffering, thy name is Neo.
Chapter 2
Vale Central Bank was not, as the name implied, in the centre of Vale. It was a subject of some mockery online despite the company's best efforts to explain it away with a catchy jingle about being the "centre" of commerce and banking. The building was actually on the eastern edge of the city, with its back to one of Vale's huge defensive walls and its front spilling out into a small carpark and a major road. It was a single storey building with a wide, open lobby filled with people, a row of tellers behind glass screens and a vault off to the back.
Roman Torchwick sauntered into the lobby twirling his cane with Neo at his side, struck a pose in front of all the cameras and people, and waited.
And waited.
And waited...
"Next customer,"the bored voice on the speakers called. There was a shuffle of zombie-like bodies as the line shrank and a new person approached the teller.
"Ahem!" Roman cleared his throat in case they hadn't seen him.
"—don't want to do my banking online," complained an elderly man. "I want to do it in person! Everything is online now. Everything! Whatever happened to the good old days of talking to a person face to face? In my day—"
Roman let his arms fall. It wasn't exactly the explosive reaction he was expecting. Beside him, Neo shuffled from one foot to the other, the tiny girl yawning into her hand. A woman with two children pushed past them on the way out, mumbling into her scroll about interest rates and trust funds. No one reacted to him.
That wouldn't do.
He considered raising Melodic Cudgel and firing an explosive shot through the ceiling – that'd get their attention! – but it felt so crass. So violent. So lacking in that special sauce that had captured the hearts and minds of so many in the past. He was a gentleman thief that captured the hearts and minds of many with his charisma and pizzazz. He wasn't some thug with a gun.
It was pedestrian...
And so Roman sauntered flamboyantly to the shortest line instead, joining it and leaning on his cane, smirking at the thought of the teller's face once she realised it was him. Recognition? Panic? Fear? Shock? It would be worth the wait to find out. Anticipation was a part of the fun after all, and it'd only make his bombastic return to the spotlight all the more striking.
The line progressed slowly.
People whined about their mortgages, dipped into overdrafts, complained about having lost their cards, or demanded to know why their accounts weren't accruing as much interest as other accounts. And then there were the actual psychopaths who just wanted to draw out money – as if there weren't ATMs all around Vale that would have let them do just that at the push of a button.
It was maddening.
But, eventually, his patience paid off.
"Next customer..."
"Ah, finally." Roman adjusted his bowler hat, straightened his collar, stood up tall and flipped his weapon under his armpit, pinning it to his side with his elbow. He sauntered toward the woman behind the glass screen, smirking cockily.
Every camera would be on him at this point.
"Good day, sir, and welcome to Vale Central Bank," the woman droned listlessly. "Centre of commerce and banking. How may I help you today?"
She hadn't recognised him. Then again, she was hardly paying attention to any of her customers, so he'd be surprised if she was even looking past the glass and not just staring at her own reflection. He cleared his throat, leaned an elbow on the counter and flashed her his lady-killer smile.
Victims had swooned mid-robbery at his handsome smile.
The teller stared at him.
"I'd like to make a withdrawal," he said, stretching the word out.
"Name?"
He stood taller, threw out his arms and boomed out, "Roman Torchwick!"
Faces turned his way.
Roman felt his spirit stir.
"Very good, sir," said the teller, tapping on the keyboard. "How much would you like to withdraw?"
"How about ten million lien!"
There was silence.
"I'm sorry, sir, but that sum isn't available."
Hm. Well, they didn't make banks like they used to apparently. Then again, he hadn't picked the biggest and richest bank for his first heist in years. It was always better to start small, to get back into the swing of things.
"No matter, then. I'll settle for everything that's here."
"Very good, sir." The woman tapped some keys, opened her register, counted out some bills and slid them through the hole in the window.
Roman stared down at the paltry amount. "What is this...?"
"That is forty-seven lien, sir. The contents of your account with us. Thank you for visiting Vale Central Bank." The woman brought the microphone to her lips, and the speakers crackled. "Next customer please."
Someone snickered.
Roman shot a glare at Neo, who had sealed her lips together until they were thin white lines. She desperately shook her head to say it wasn't her, but her left eye twitched as she did. A dimple in her cheek quivered and trembled.
"Ahem. I don't think you fully understand," he tried again, leaning in toward the glass so she could get a better look at him. "I am Roman Torchwick, let the name sink in a little, and I would like to make a withdrawal from this bank's vault..."
"I understand fully, sir, but I'm afraid your account has insufficient funds—"
"It will have plenty of funds once I deposit several hundred thousand lien in there!" he snapped. Really, she was making this so needlessly complex. "That is what I am here to do!"
"Ah." The woman's eyes widened.
Roman Torchwick's smile grew.
"That's called a deposit, actually, sir. A withdrawal is when you take money out of your account and a deposit is when you put money in. I understand this can all be very confusing, but we're here to help however you need us."
"Paaaah—"
Neo wheezed beside him, grasping onto his pant leg for support as all the air escaped her lungs in one, hysterical rush. It wasn't as silent as her mute nature might have implied.
Roman's eye twitched, and his teeth ground together. He brought Melodic Cudgel out from under his arm and tapped the business end of it on the glass.
"I know what a deposit is, you numbskull. I am making a withdrawal from—" He sighed. This was going nowhere, and the woman must have been an idiot. "Look, this is a robbery. Does that make it any easier for your pea-sized brain to understand—"
The woman gasped and reacted instantly, pressing a button under the desk. Instantly, a loud alarm sounded and metal shutters came crashing down in front of their glass screens. They slammed down on the counters on either side of him, but not in front. Instead, his arm was yanked down along with Melodic Cudgel, and he almost fell.
His weapon, pressed flush against the glass, found itself in the rather awkward situation of being trapped against the counter. Roman tugged on it, but the industrial power shutters designed to stop bullets didn't exactly have much "give" in them. He pressed his foot against the counter and pulled, but it didn't budge.
It was stuck.
"Well, that's not ideal," he breezed, turning to Neo. "They— uh— didn't have these when I was last robbing banks." He scratched his cheek. "Wonders of technology. Anyway, everybody down!" he roared, holding his hand upward. "Or I'll shoot!"
The civilians in the lobby froze.
Roman smirked.
"That's it, ladies and gentlemen. You all have the honour and privilege of being robbed by esteemed master-thief Roman Torchwick today!" He threw his coattails out, letting them flutter in the air. "All of you shall remove your valuables and jewellery and empty out your purses and wallets to my glorious assistant here. And yes," he added, with a charismatic smile. "You are allowed to take photos or record this to commemorate the moment."
None of them drew their scrolls out.
Hm...
They must have been frozen in awe. Ah, he remembered it now. The shock that rooted them to the spot – the effect he had on people. Roman basked in it, closing his eyes and simply enjoying the stunned silence he had created—
"You don't have a weapon."
"Eh—?" Roman's eyes blinked back open and he looked to a man around twenty or so, who had spoken up and rather rudely interrupted both his monologue and the atmospheric mood he'd been working to create. "What?"
"You... uh... You don't have a weapon," said the man. He pointed, and Roman looked back, confirming that yes, Melodic Cudgel was still trapped under the shutter, and no, he did not have a spare handgun on him.
Because those were so unstylish.
So thuggish.
"So, I don't know how you expect to shoot us if we just run..."
Roman ran his tongue over his teeth, looking for the best answer. He hadn't really been in this situation before, normally having Junior's goons to provide the muscle, or, of course, his own weapon to hand to threaten people with. He was still a capable fighter, practically a huntsman, but he didn't exactly have a Semblance like Red's that would let him blitz about the hostages and incapacitate them all in a flash of the eye.
Alas, his moment of silence was apparently too much for these ever-so-impatient people, who took their chance to rush out the bank doors and away. Soon, it was just him and Neo stood alone in a deserted bank lobby.
"Well..." Roman fumbled for the right words, especially when Neo raised an eyebrow. "It appears that they have been put to flight! Ahah!" He laughed and sauntered back to his weapon, gave it an experimental tug, then pulled on it with all his might, straining against it. "It seems — hngh! — that everyone – ghh! – is too afraid – gahh! – to face me! The great— gnh— Roman— Hnghhh! – Torchwic—"
Finally, Melodic Cudgel was wrenched free, with a nasty crash of metal as the shutters finally completed the last inch or so they'd been stopped by. Roman flew back, tripped over Neo and landed on his ass. He quickly got to his feet and dusted himself down as if it had never happened. Just because there was no audience – witnesses, he meant – didn't mean he shouldn't put on a show for the cameras.
"All under control," he told Neo, who was glaring balefully up at him from where she lay sprawled out on the floor. She rubbed her nose where he'd collided with her. "Now then, let us crack open this vault, shall we? Preferably before the police arrive." He raised his weapon and aimed it toward the vault and, with a wild smile, squeezed the trigger.
A spark released near his hand from the cleverly hidden mechanism and sending a payload of explosive dust hurtling forward, to be launched from the end of his cane.
That, at least, was the idea.
In reality the dust round got caught at the end of his cane where the metal shutters had clamped down with extreme force and dented his beloved weapon, causing the end of the barrel to be pinched inward.
The first inkling Roman had of this was when the round detonated inside Melodic Cudgel, causing it to explode. Metal warped and fractured, bending outward like a flower's petals fanning out – or, Roman thought uncharitably – a cartoon depiction of a gun which a rabbit had stuck a finger into the end of.
Melodic Cudgel smoked helplessly, its warped metal blackened and smoking.
The vault, of course, was completely fine.
Neo cleared her throat.
"Well, I don't see you doing anything to help!" he snapped at her. "It's easy to criticise while you're just standing there!" Biting down on his annoyance, Roman stomped up to the vault and set his weapon down at the base. He then reloaded it with a fresh crystal. He'd need to replace it now. "It's fine! We still have time, and the money in here will more than pay for a new weapon – and more! Ice cream galore. The finest cigars. The most expensive wine!"
He ignited the dust in his poor weapon and jogged back to her, leaving it at the base of the vault as an explosive charge. It had served him well, but alas, all things came to an end eventually. Roman plugged his ears as the weapon sparked.
KABOOM!
Grinning madly, he looked back, ready to hoot in victory—
Only to see the vault door standing unharmed.
"Oh, for the love of—" The brick wall around it splintered, weakened, and the vault collapsed outward, still fully whole but breaking the wall around it and slamming down into the foyer with a clang. He'd take it. "Heeey! That's better! About time something went my way. See?" he told Neo, slapping her shoulder. "This old man still has what it takes. Now, come on. Let me show you the beautiful joy of a vault filled with riches. Gold bars, jewellery, money—" He steered her toward it like a proud parent. "You've never known true joy until you step inside and smell the lien..."
They had stepped inside.
And the vault was practically barren.
There was a metal trolley against one wall, upon which was some lien, but some as in several thousand and not the several hundred thousand or million he had been hoping for. There was another bag, but when he ripped it open he found it filled with receipts instead. And servers. There were blinking severs stood in the vault where stacks of gold bars should be.
Neo picked up some of the bills and sniffed them, then looked to him with an inquisitive expression.
Roman's eye twitched.
"One moment..." He stomped out and to the closed shutters which he knew the tellers would still be hunkering behind. He rapped on the metal. "Oi! Where is all the money? Where's the gold bars? Where are the fat stacks of cash!?"
There was silence for a moment, and then a quiet voice.
"A lot of our banking is done online now, sir. We don't actually keep much money on the premises anymore." There was an awkward silence, and then a quiet, "The vault is pretty much just a prop to impress the customers."
...
"You're lucky there's a steel barrier between you and me," Roman bit out.
"That's kind of the point of a security barrier, sir."
/-/
This had gone exactly how Neo suspected it would go.
Roman was out of practice, out of touch, and honestly just getting on in years, and he didn't command the same respect and fear he used to. That didn't matter to her, since he was special to her, but she'd just known this would be a disaster. Neo let out a heavy sigh and slapped the lien back down on the trolley.
Still, money was money and it would buy ice-cream and pay rent all the same – and keep Roman stocked up on those stupid cancer sticks he refused to stop putting in his mouth like they were candy. Neo scowled as she swiped the pitiful amount of lien into a bag marked with a lien symbol. Roman had been insistent they steal with those on account of it being a "classic" and that a "good thief shouldn't be afraid to let people know he was a thief."
That, to Neo, made no sense, but she wasn't sure Roman had ever been a good thief. He'd bene a showman, an actor, almost an entertainer. That he happened to steal money while he did was one thing, but he'd never been what Neo would call a hardened criminal.
But she loved him – more fool her – so she played along, filled the bag and came outside with a big smile she didn't feel, shooting him a thumbs up and pretending she was impressed by the absolute shitshow of a bank heist he'd pulled off.
He could be so sensitive at times.
"Neo! Excellent. Collected our ill-earned gains, have you?" She hefted the bag and he grinned. "Perfect." He cleared his throat and posed for the cameras. "Today, Vale Central Bank has had the exquisite experience of being robbed by the master thief, Roman Torchwick. Tomorrow? Who can say which bank will be the next to be paid a visit, hm?"
Next?
Neo didn't like the sound of that. Hopefully he'd forget about it once the newspapers caved and ran a story on him. At this point, Neo thought it might be easier for her to sneak out and hold a knife to Lisa Lavender's throat and just threaten her into writing a story on Roman to.
It'd be easier.
And Neo had killed for less.
"Come Neo!" He raced for the door and waved for her to follow like she was a pet dog. Neo rolled her eyes but did just that. It was for his sake, and she did love him even when he was being a complete idiot.
It was just a mid-life crisis.
He'd get over it.
Hopefully.
"No police?" Roman almost sounded distressed that there wasn't a police cordon and rows of armed officers waiting for them. "Response times haven't gotten any quicker since my time. Goodness, what do we pay taxes for?" He boomed with laughter. "Ah, of course! We don't pay taxes!"
They didn't.
But only on account of not making enough money to even reach the threshold for having to pay income tax. Neo sighed and nudged Roman toward their getaway vehicle, preferably before he got it in his head that they should actually sit here and wait for the police to show up just so they could make their explosive escape.
If Vale's finest wanted to give them a freebie then Neo was all for it.
"But it's not the same if they're not here," he whined. "There isn't anyone to even take a photo of our escape!" Neo pushed him into the driver's seat and tossed the money in the back, then climbed into the passenger seat and strapped herself in. "Alright. Alright. You're so impatient. Sheesh." He finally turned on the engine and pulled them out the carpark. "I know you're nervous about your first heist, Neo, but there's no need to be. I'm an expert."
Neo pointedly stared out the passenger window so he wouldn't see her sarcastic expression.
At least this was all over with—
A blinking blue light flashed in the side mirror of the car.
"Ah!" Roman sounded far too happy. "They're onto us!" He smiled ferally and stamped his foot down on the pedal. "Time for your first getaway!"
The car accelerated and Neo was slammed back into the seat, forced to hold on for dear life as Roman swerved past traffic, causing the tyres on their beat-up old wagon to squeal ominously. Cars honked as they blurred past, taking increasing risks that had Roman twisting the wheel this way and that, laughing maniacally as he did.
Meanwhile, sirens turned on behind them and began to wail as the police gave chase. Neo forced herself into a seated position, only to flinch as they nearly sideswiped a car. Roman twisted the wheel and she was thrown against the window, her cheek smooshed up against the glass as they rounded a corner and clipped the curb.
She got a perfect view of two more cop cars pulling out of a junction to join the chase, and then she was thrown back into her seat again as they accelerated up onto one of the elevated ring roads that circled the city. Four lanes wide, they had far more room for Roman to manoeuvre around slower vehicles.
"Neo. Open the glovebox," shouted Roman, sounding much too excited. She did so and he reached in to take out a sleek, silver revolver. It was the only gun Roman would agree to use, on account of how it fit his style, or whatever that meant. A gun was a gun in her mind. "Take the wheel," he commanded, sitting on the window and just abandoning the steering wheel.
Neo stared at it in horror.
The car lurched, and then lurched the other way when she threw herself over to grab it, yanked it down and almost sent them crashing into another vehicle. She was strapped into her seat and had to fumble her way out as Roman fired shots backwards, but that didn't mean she was in control.
While one hand tried to unbuckle herself, her other yanked up and down, sending the car veering left and right across multiple lanes.
"Keep her steady!" Roman yelled. "Good lord, Neo. It's not hard!"
Maybe not for someone who knew how to drive or – crazy thought – was actually in the driver's seat! Controlling it from the passenger side wasn't easy!
Neo finally managed to get herself free and jump over and grab the wheel in both hands, keeping it steady. She poked her head up, having to look over the dash and under the top of the steering wheel to see. Thank goodness it was the middle of the day and the roads were relatively clear.
"We're slowing down!" shouted Roman, firing backwards and laughing like a madman. "Hit the gas, Neo!" Gas. Right. Acceleration. Neo looked down between her legs and stretched her foot out. Her toes tickled the pedal, pushing it in maybe half an inch and making the engine rumble a tiny bit. "Faster! As fast as she can go!"
Neo strained as far as she could go, stretching her neck to keep some eye on the road while her foot did its best to push down, but she was too damn short! Roman, the lanky bastard, had the seat adjusted for his height, making it really hard for her to reach the pedals, and it wasn't like she could take the time to ratchet the lever under the seat to fix it in the middle of a damned car chase!
"PULL OVER!" shouted a voice through a megaphone. "YOUR CAR ISN'T TAXED!"
They didn't even know this was a bank robbery.
Neo wept big, fat tears.
"Haha! Pigs!" Roman shot back several times. "You'll never take us. Damn it, Neo." He reached behind him without looking and found her shoulder, then pushed hard. "Hit the gas now!"
Neo down the seat as he pushed her down, and her foot slammed on the pedal, kicking the car into gear.
The only problem was that Roman had pushed her under the level of the dash, meaning all she could see was the wheel and the speedometer, which was climbing rather worryingly for someone who couldn't see the road.
Panicking, she swerved the wheel left and right and tried to push back up out of Roman's grip.
Naturally, he didn't notice.
"That's it, Neo! Ha ha!" His revolver barked. "Keep her steady!"
There were many times Neo wished she was capable of speech.
This was one of them.
She tried anyway, opening her mouth and releasing a silent hiss of air in place of a terrified scream.
"Shift her a gear up!"
Neo slammed the gearstick forward and heard something fundamental grind and break.
"USE THE CLUTCH!"
Which one was that? Neo looked down between her legs. Why where there three pedals when she only had two feet!? Who designed these things? Neo stamped on the middle one. The brakes squealed angrily. Roman was sent tumbling out the window, much to her horror. He still had a grip on it though, which meant he rolled around onto the hood of the car with his face looking at her.
Their eyes met, and he must have seen the panic in hers because he blinked back.
"Why didn't you say you were too short to see?" he asked through the glass.
Neo wailed unhappily, and silently, mouth open wide and eyes angry.
A gunshot sounded behind them and a pop sounded to her left. One of their tyres had been shot, and the car veered horrifically, absolutely leaving her control no matter how much she tried to twist the wheel the other way.
"Steer into it!" howled Roman. "Into it!"
She couldn't even see where it was!
Neo wished she could scream back.
Their car hit a bump and went upward, then, with a crash, burst through a metal barrier and became an aeroplane. A really poorly designed aeroplane without wings or a turbine engine capable of keeping it in the air, which was why the nose of their car-oplane tipped ominously downward, finally allowing Neo to see where she was driving, but only in time to realise she was driving to the bottom of the ocean.
They'd gone off at the edge of the city overlooking the docks.
"Bail!" shouted Roman, clambering on the hood and leaping off the car. "BAIL!"
That was easy for him to say, wasn't it? He just got to jump. Neo scrabbled for purchase inside a car where gravity was inverted and grasped at the open window to try and pull herself out of it, all while they were hurtling downward.
It was a lost cause.
Neo had time to get her aura up before the car struck the water and the windscreen shattered inward, spraying her with water and glass, and then she was underwater. Cheeks puffing out, she dragged herself out the window as the car sank, taking their ill-gotten gains with it. Neo blew furious bubbles at the heavy object before swimming her way to the surface and breaking the water with a loud gasp for oxygen.
"Hey," said Roman, treading water beside her. "You made it. Not bad, but you need to learn to bail sooner. Also, you kind of need to learn to drive."
Howling without noise, Neo lunged and pushed him under with her hands atop his stupid bowler hat. She'd have drowned him if she could, but she reminded herself she did love him, even though that was a very difficult thing to remember at that moment. She released him and he surfaced with an obnoxiously happy laugh.
"Too soon? It's fine. Come on, let's get out of here before the filth make it down to arrest us."
/-/
Roman settled into his sofa and flicked on the tv, a towel wrapped around his shoulders and his hair still damp. He had a fresh set of clothes on, little more than a grey sweatshirt and some gym pants and socks. One could never underestimate the value of a good pair of socks in helping you keep warm.
"Neo! Neo, come on!" he called, bouncing excitedly in his seat. "It's about to start!"
His roommate, apprentice and possibly sort of adopted daughter trudged sullenly into the room, her hair drenched and hanging limply down her scalp and back, and her face flushed bright pink. Her shoulders trembled and she let out an adorable little sneeze.
"—choo!"
"Aww. You got a cold?" His genuine concern earned him the middle finger. "Come here," he said, patting his lap. Neo squelched her way across the floor and flopped down atop him, and he took the towel from around his shoulders and began drying her soaked-through hair. Neo was like an angry little housecat and hadn't been any happier once she realised that, without any money stolen, she wouldn't get any ice-cream. "I know what'll cheer you up," he said. "You'll love this. Watch!"
The news report came on, and Lisa Lavender appeared on the screen.
"Shocking news tonight as the Vale Central Bank was robbed by dangerous criminal Roman Torchwick!"
Roman bounced Neo on his lap, watching with shining eyes and hoping they'd got a good image. The one that flashed up was the best he could have hoped for! They'd taken a shot of him in the air, having leapt from the falling car, with his coat flapping around him like angelic wings and his face split with a damned sexy smile if Roman said so himself, and he certainly did. His arms were held out as if to mock the police by saying "here I am. Do your best" and the ocean backdropped behind him made it look magical.
Yessssss!
His hands intensified their scrubbing of Neo's hair, too excited to stay still, and the girl in his lap flailed her own about to try and get him to stop as he ground her scalp to paste. "Look!" he said, pointing at the screen. "Look! It's me! I look amazing!"
Neo drove her elbow back into his gut, but the pain didn't even register.
"Roman Torchwick struck the bank around two in the afternoon today, making off with all the money in the vault and engaging in a high-speed car chase across the city."
Another picture, this time of him hanging out the car window with his revolver like some damned movie star. Roman squealed internally and began scrubbing wildly again, going so quickly that Neo's pink hair started to stand on end from the static, rising up like it was alive while she kicked her feet and twitched in his lap.
"Although the police gave chase, they were unable to capture the elusive criminal, who remains at large. Police have advised the public to not approach the thief as he is armed and dangerous, and to report any sightings but stay safe. Is this a return to form for the man who was once Vale's most notorious thief?"
"Damn right it is!" he howled at Lisa.
"Only time will tell. It should also be noted that Roman Torchwick appears to have picked up an accomplice as well. Details are sparse at this time, but the police have released two images of the girl at his side."
Oh! Oh! Fame for Neo, too. Roman wasn't so greedy that he couldn't share, and he actually felt a surge of pride at the idea of her being held aloft beside him. "Look!" he said, pointing at the screen. "It's you, Neo! You're famous."
The surly, wet, irritated girl pouted and look at the screen, then froze in horror.
To be fair, they weren't the best shots ever.
The first was of Neo with her cheek and face squashed up against a pane of glass. It had been taken by a patrol car and zoomed in, featuring Neo's squashed features and her tongue sticking out, both eyes squinted shut and her hands on the glass as well, while he took the car in a sick turn around a corner. Real good driving on his part. The second wasn't much better. They had taken a photo of her coming up out the ocean for air, breaking the surface with her mouth wide open to gulp in air, and her hair fanning out in the water.
She looked rather like a drowned kitten.
"The first shots are always rough," he said. "The important part is to remember cameras are watching and strike a pose at every opportunity. Don't let it get to you— Hey! Hey, wait!"
Their television set crashed out their window and sailed down about ten floors to explode on the pavement. Roman sighed, watching the little girl heave for air by the window, her arms outstretched and her multicoloured hair puffed out like it was trying to become an afro. She turned to him, scowling murderously, only for her eyes to cross.
"—chooo!" she sneezed, the sound adorably high-pitched, and her whole body jumping. It was mostly the air whistling out making the sound, but she looked shocked by it – much like a ruffled cat being surprised by its own sneeze. "Achoo!" she sneezed again, and sniffled, rubbing her red nose.
"Looks like you've got a cold," he told her, earning himself a furious glare followed by an even angrier sneezing fit. "You know what this means? No ice-cream."
Neo froze, horrified.
"I'll make you some warm chicken soup and then we can get you in bed. You need to get plenty of rest." He steered her toward his bedroom, and Neo didn't fight him. "After all, we need to keep up the momentum and keep hitting more places. Let the world know that we're back in action."
Her heels dug into the carpet at that.
Her head swivelled back, then violently shook from side to side.
"I know you're nervous," he told her, "but you did well enough today – aside from the whole driving us into the ocean part." Her eyes crossed angrily, but he just picked her up over his shoulder and carried her into the bedroom. "You'll get better at it," he said, letting her beat her angry fists on his back. "It's a learning experience, Neo, and you've got the best damn teacher in the city. Trust me. Stick with me, and I'll make you a thief worthy of the Torchwick name."
Over his shoulder, Neo wailed silently, her mouth wide open.
Until her body was wracked by another sneezing fit.
Hang in there, Neo, you glorious drowned kitten, you.
Next Chapter: 21st November
Like my work? Please consider supporting me, even if it's only a little a month or even for a whole year, so I can keep writing so many stories as often as I do. Even a little means a lot and helps me dedicate more time and resources to my work.
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur