Day one.
.
Just like any other. First came the shock and confusion. Yelling, screaming, wailing, disbelief. Having spent all his life amidst dirt and dust, Andy had no idea what the fuss was about.
She was livid. Absolutely, utterly disgusted and revolted. Fuming, even.
Croissant really disliked the library's interior. Why? He couldn't quite wrap his head around it. Dust? Dust was a natural part of life. They were all molded from dust, all would turn to dust, eventually. Like W did, poor bastard. Law, bless his wretched soul.
They slipped a little check from Emperor's office into their pockets and went shopping. Not the fun kind, the necessary kind. Andy learned just how much of a savvy money-spender the girl was, seeing her calculate each milliliter of dust-killing detergent, comparing prices for hours and always settling on the cheapest crap they could find. "A dolla' saved's a dolla' earned, baws!" She'd coo, casually dropping a ten liter tub of Lungmen's "Brother Clean" onto the poor merc's shoulders. Where did all that energy even come from? She definitely didn't look the part, nonetheless pulled her weight tenfold. Andy could only struggle and groan, pushing their overloaded cart through the halls of this capitalist kingdom that was some Section Five shopping center.
They came back late. Very late. Sprinkle in a flat tire on their way back, the lights had already long gone dim by the time they arrived at the doorstep of Pacifc Empire, the library welcoming them with its eerie silence and creaky floors. Unloading half of their haul took an hour or so, the rest much longer. Croissant's watch beeped in the middle of their little sisyphean task, signaling the end of her shift. Not a second did she waste, throwing a chirpy "Aight, I reckon that's enuff from me fa' today!" and leaving him there to carry all those detergents back inside on his own.
He could barely fall asleep with all that leftover back pain.
.
Day two.
.
He really wanted to take a day off.
His legs hurt, his back hurt, his heart hurt, his brain hurt, filled with nothing but empty plans for today that would remain unfulfilled. How he wanted to just lay in bed, do nothing from sunrise to sundown, rot under the sheets and watch the city live its course from behind the cozy cover of a snug blanket. Or maybe call up Lem and ask her out, somewhere. Would she accept? Did she work mondays? Would she even want to…? Everything hurt.
And it kept hurting as a loud banging ensued at the front door at around six in the morning.
Expecting the worst, a posse of bikers or homeless raiders, he opened it with a gun in hand, giving the person on the other side a little scare.
"Whaddya need all 'at firepower fa', baws? 'S just me, lil' 'ol Croissant!"
And before he could even respond, she was already halfway into the main hall, checking for dust on his desk and clicking her tongue. There went his feverish plans of bed-rotting and date-going. Within just a couple minutes, she had him mixing and tossing around bubbly concoctions of cheap chemical waste, spilling around the floor, forming lakes and entire ecosystems of bacteria-killing troops. How they colonized the entire area within seconds was quite the feat. Platoons of foam, supported by artillery bombardments of various toxic fluids, all raining down upon the poor indigenous populations of dust and dirt alike, crushing their meek resistance with little to no issue. Croissant, the high commander of their tiny war-force, stood proud, towering over Andy, the field marshall, who kept mumbling absolute nonsense, his coffee-deprived mind working overtime to keep him from falling asleep.
"Missed a spawt, baws! 'Ere! And there." Her orders rang through his ears, as the iron fist of their imperium of cleanliness fell down upon the lone survivors of their advance.
Such was the war effort waged against dirt. Hours passed, yet only a small part of the room had been freed from the oppressive enemy's grasp. Andy slumped against his desk, letting his battle-scarred body fall onto the office chair. With a glance, his eyes ran over the piles of paperwork gathering before him, sliding along the tiny letters printed onto the soft paper.
Bills, bills, bills… Letters from the Motorized Docks. Of course. As if he didn't have enough on his plate already, Duflot kept sending him jobs. The thing with that fat bastard was that, while some of the first commissions were quite well paid, they just kept dropping in value with each passing day, nowadays being lowered to nearly nothing, making Andy essentially a slave to the Union. He didn't want to bother with them for now or anytime in the future, so he just shoved them to the side, letting his sleep-deprived eyes rest for a moment.
…
…
…
…
Tap, tap, tap.
...
There she was.
…
More cleaning?
…
Should the war effort continue?
…
Should more land be liberated from the dusty bush-warriors' control?
…
Or should their violent territorial expansion cease?
…
Were they the righteous ones here?
…
Or was their cause simply a case of blindly following a false idol?
…
Were they the good guys?
…
Or were they the wretched destroyers of life, all along?
…
He didn't know. Hopefully she'd shed some light on this predicament, as her footsteps grew louder.
…
Andy opened his eyes to ask his admiral-in-charge about their hellish war effort, to pose some questions about the morality of it all and whether he'd have to drop back to his knees and keep cleaning. Croissant, however, was standing right before him, a warm smile on her face and a cup of something steamy in her hands. Talk about southern Minoan hospitality.
"'Ere, baws, somn' that's oughta wake ya right up." She warbled, her accent bringing a tiny smile to the angel's face. "Aye? What's so funny?" She added almost immediately, seeing him trying to muffle the grin.
"Nothing, nothing. Just remembered something dumb." Andy mumbled back, taking the cup from her and smelling the warm, energizing substance resting within. The scent filled him with an indescribable amount of heat straight away, almost frying his brain to a crisp. "... Thanks for the coffee."
"Ah, no problem at all, baws! That's why ya got me 'ere, after all! Y'know, I'm not just gonna stand 'round and watch ya break yer back on the floor, I oughta support ya a bit, too!" Andy couldn't hear even a hint of teasing in her voice, no sarcasm, no irony, just warm, true honesty. He took a sip of the dark liquid and let it swim down his gullet, washing away the tiredness, bringing about a hint of…
… Of bitterness. A lot of bitterness.
He coughed a little, barely stopping himself from barfing the disgust away. Croissant gave him a hearty pat on the back, forcing the coffee to shoot out from behind his lips like water from a pressure-washer.
"A-Ah? Ya don't like it…?" She asked, a tiny bit confused, tiny bit hurt.
Andy immediately shook his head, putting out a thumbs up and grasping the desk tightly, bent in half, coughing like a sixty year old chainsmoker. "N-No, it's… It's great, I just got some in my windpipe." He reassured, making the girl smile right back up. "... Did you put anything in it?"
"Nuh-uh, baws! Pure, black, hand-ground cawffee! 'S called "Bucket-kicker", I drink it eeeeevery day! Ya like it?" She leaned against the desk, taking the cup from his hand and gulping about half of its contents in one, quick swig. Didn't even flinch, just let out a content "Aaaah…" when she was done.
"Yeah, it's g-great." Andy mumbled, positioning himself up straight and stretching a little, feeling drips of this "Bucket-kicker" still sliding down the sensitive walls of his throat. He's never had anything like that, not even on the harshest of days in Kazdel when hanging around Hedley and the rest. "You can have the rest, think I'm energized enough." He added, seeing Croissant eyeing the remnants of the coffee with a longing hunger in her eyes. She flicked him a wink and downed the entire thing at once.
"Aha! Thanks, baws, I owe ya! Or… Or not, y'know, I'd rather not owe anythin' to anyone." The girl chuckled and slid off his desk, clapping her hands together. "Aight! But that's that! Break's ova', baws, we gotta do som' cleanin'!"
Andy groaned at the mere thought of getting on his knees again and fighting off the armies of dust gathering by his soles, only seemingly growing in numbers with each squeeze of his dirty, chemical permeated rag.
"Do we really have to…? It's just dust, it's not hurting anyone." He mumbled, unwilling to leave the cushy fortress that was his leather chair.
"Baws! Baws." She put out a finger to wag in front of his face in a scolding manner. "Listen 'ere, baws. If ya want this company standin' from its knees, ya gotta put in the work! If ya wanna be treated like a serious player in the logistics game, ya gotta make yerself presentable! This ain't presentable in any way, baws! This is like… Like a spider's den. Uh-huh."
"But I don't wanna clean…" He pleaded, mustering up the best puppy-dog eyes he could. All he wanted to do at the moment was go back upstairs and just sleep it all off… Or call Lem and hear her chirpy voice.
"But yer gonna clean!" She finished with a little smirk. "C'mon, baws…"
"Why don't YOU clean for a change?"
"Ah? Is this MY company? Naw, I'm as much as an intern, 'ere! Ion even work 'ere full time, hehe!" She chuckled and flipped the sleeves of her heavy coat up a little. "C'mon, baws, or I'll MAKE you clean." She added, sounding all ominous and baleful.
"...?" He blinked a few times and glanced over at her smug face. "Make? Make, how?"
"How? Like 'at, to give an example." Croissant stated, simply, very matter of fact. She then promptly strolled to the boy's side and just picked him up, throwing his body like a sack of potatoes over her shoulder.
"!?" Andy immediately protested, trying to kick his way off her shoulder. "W-What the hell? Hey, come on, let m-... What the hell, let me go! Hey! HEY!"
He kept squirming and kicking, unwilling to punch or actually try to hurt her in any way, though, attempting to slide off her shoulder. Croissant seemingly took no mind to his little tantrums, carrying him like some rag doll, casually sauntering through the mail hall towards the little cleaning work station.
"See, baws, if yer gonna act like a brat, I ain't gonna treat ya like nothin' but one." She warbled, giving him a little pat on the head. Andy blushed a little, feeling frustrations growing deep within. Is THIS how the Half A Million Shekel Merc should be treated…?
"I get it! Okay, I'll clean, let go!"
"Nuh-uh."
"What do you mean, "Nuh-uh?" Let go!"
"Naw. Ya gotta learn yer lesson, baws." She shrugged, standing still to make sure the statement soaked into his brain. "See, baws, discipline… Discipline is what's gonna get ya rich someday!"
"LET GO OF ME!" He wailed, forgetting all about his manners at that point and kicking away, trying to bite through her coat.
"Baws…"
"LET GO!"
"Baws, c'mon."
"LET. GO. OF. ME."
"Baws, yer throwin' a tantrum…"
"'CAUSE YOU'RE CARRYING ME! LET GO!"
"'Cause yer actin' like a brat! Brats get carried on me shoulder, baws."
"..." Seeing how his attempts were nothing but futile, he stopped his assault, instead lying completely still, like one of those sacks of potatoes W used to bring in by the dozen. "Fine. I'm a grown man, I've learned my lesson. Can you let me go now?"
"Mmmm… Naw." She giggled a little, giving his curls another pat. "It's kinda funny, baws, seein' ya all frustrated 'n all. I got ya almost as emotional as the night we met, 'member? Ya were all tears 'n all, all cryin', all sad…" She trailed off, as Andy only grew more and more red.
"Shush. We don't talk about that." He mumbled, face buried in her shoulder. "Never."
"Aw, come on, baws! We all get sad sometimes, 's only natural! Not like yer buddy Croissant 'ere 's all smiles and giggles all 'a time, either!" She kept babbling, closing her eyes and doing a little spin in place. Andy groaned a little as she continued. "We all 'ave those times when the sun just ain't shinin', baws! We all get 'em cloud days sometimes-..."
"CAN YOU PUT ME DOWN ALREADY?" He exploded, patience finally out. His arms and legs shot out in each direction, swinging wildly like a captured buck fighting for its life.
"Baws! Yer doin' it again, ya ain't learned a damn thing…"
"LET ME GOOO!"
"Baws…"
"LET. ME. G-..."
His demands were suddenly cut short by the sound of the door opening. Both morons turned towards the clatter, frozen in place.
"... Uh… Hi, Andy?" A voice spoke up, revealing itself to be Dani's, the short-haired Ursine dockworker. His eyes were glued to the two, not really knowing how to take in this entire situation. "Should I come in another time, or…?"
Croissant turned a tinge more red and loosened her grip, letting the angel fall to the floor. With a soft thud and a muffled curse (followed by an "Ow!", as the Law struck him one), Andy gathered himself off the hardwood planks and dusted his clothes.
"No, no, it's fine. What do you need, Dani? Hi, by the way, sorry for the mess. Doing renovations." He mustered, still scowling at the girl.
"... Yeaaah, I can see that." The Ursus whistled a little and took a stroll through the partially squeaky clean hall. It had a few glimmers of its former, dusty glory still on full display, scattered around the walls, a network of cobwebs reigning across the ceiling high above. "... And your friend?" He inquired, smiling coyly towards the ginger-haired mess, who suddenly went all nonverbal.
"Hm?" His eyes jumped from Dani to Croissant, then back to Dani. "Oh, that's… Pastry girl. Croissant. She's, like, almost an employee here."
"Hey…" She murmured, giving the angel a little smack on the shoulder, which almost damn near knocked him off his feet.
"... See? That's what almost an employee would do. Anyway, Dani, Croissant, Croissant, Dani," He babbled, pointing to their respective selves. "Dani's a buddy of mine."
"Ah… So not a customer, ah?" She sounded a little disappointed, sizing the Ursus up.
"No, not at all! But a messenger for Andy's number one, favorite customer, though." He smirked a little and managed a fancy, theatrical bow. With some flair to his moves, he grasped the girl's hand and pressed his lips against it for a moment or two, his voice taking on a more sultry, warm feel. "But It's still… Very nice to meet you, miss." He murmured, shooting her a wink.
Croissant went red all over, Andy blinked.
"Uh…" She began, feeling both flattered and a little uncomfortable by the sudden gesture. Andy flicked their hands apart and gave Dani a little pat on the shoulder.
"Yeah, Dani's a little… Uh… Old fashioned. Yeah…" He mumbled, brain void of any ideas on how to explain this moron's behavior. Dani slid from underneath his grasp and cleared his throat.
"It's just how we used to greet people in Ursus, sheesh. Don't dwell on it." With another wink towards the girl, he continued, "But still, I'm here to talk about a little something with you, Mr ex-merc."
"Oh?" Andy perked up, "What?"
"Business, airhead!" His voice returned to the usual, squeaky and assaultive to the eardrums. "Bratan, Mr Duflot's really worried about you! You haven't returned any of his letters, haven't dropped by the docks in a while…"
"Duflot", ah? Sound all fancy 'n all. Tha's yer "number one customer"? Yer got a customer worried 'bout ya, baws, that's a good and a bad thing!" Croissant cut in, frowning and accusingly crossing her arms. "Ya should get right back to yer customers, always!"
Dani kept nodding along, smile only growing in size. "Uh-huh! Exactly, miss Croissant! He's been sending you jobs, letters… Yet, there's not even a word from you, ex-merc!"
"I was busy, sheesh…" He mumbled back, grabbing a few crocus-purple letters riddling his desk. Each one of them, fancy beyond belief - smelling nice, like some expensive perfume, signed off with a stamp and everything… "I'll get on 'em as soon as I'm done with this." His arms flew towards the mess still ever present in the hall.
"Oh, you better, airhead." Dani chuckled and gave the angel a little pat on the shoulder, returning the favor. "Really, Andy, you've gotta work on your customer service…"
"Tha's right, baws. Customer service's most important, aye." Croissant chirped in.
"... You two are unbearable." His eyes were still glued to the violet papers in his hands. "... Totally unbearable."
"We might be unbearable, but we're giving you good ideas, Drew. If you wanna be someone, you gotta earn it. If you wanna run a company, you gotta work, not sit on your ass all day and…" Dani started going off again, before yet another loud noise cut him off.
"...?"
Once more, they all turned towards the source.
As the dust settled, as the orange sun rays slowly disappeared behind the closing door, a dim outline of a scrawny, tall figure appeared in the shadows.
Chains rattled, leather stretched. A hoarse voice spoke out, muddying each word with unnecessarily incoherent mumbles, barely making any sense at all.
"G'day, folks? Y'all busy?" The figure asked, stepping forward and revealing itself to their eyes. Nothing more, nothing less but a Caprinae man, rather young, malnourished as all hell, nervously scratching his arms as he went. "Ain't got much company, 's far as I can see."
Andy and Dani exchanged a quick glance, one meaningless look. Croissant perked right up, beaming brighter than a lighthouse and jumping to the lad's side. Her heavy accent rang out again, as she led him towards the main deck, the most presentable part of the room - the angel's desk.
"Right 'ere, mister! Ya got any business unfulfilled? We'll fill it right up, naw worries!"
She was all smiles, as the two of them stood before the desk, joining Dani, meanwhile Andy comfortably sprawled himself in the grand chair behind, ready to welcome their not-so-well-fed customer.
"Alright, Pacific Empire, all your logistical needs, what'll it be?" He started, albeit slightly hesitant. The malnourished fella took a wide glance around the place, as if sizing the building itself up.
"... So y'all are "Pacific Empire", then?" He mumbled, eyes gliding across the cobwebs riddling the ceiling.
"Yeah, that's what he just said." Dani cut in, raising an eyebrow. A certain scent of sweat and cheap, Columbian whiskey wafted across the air, oozing from the man's leather jacket. Croissant hissed a little at the Ursus and spoke up once more, keeping her cheery tone intact.
"Tha's exactly it, Mister! Pacific Empire, Lungmen's second best logistics company, aha! We deliver, we escort, we… We do evertyhin', ain't 'at right, baws?" She chirped towards Andy, who kept suspiciously scanning the goat-horned man.
"... Yeah. Say, mister, you interested in anything? Or are you just sightseeing?"
"Oh, I'm interested, aight. Just lookin'." He absentmindedly spat out, letting his gaze flow across all three of them. "Ya know a fella called Ricketts, perchance?"
Andy froze. Dani let out a chuckle and pointed towards the ex-merc.
"Yeah, duh, that's him. Y'know, he's the boss around here. Probably should've brushed up on it before you came in, дурачок."
Croissant tilted her head a little, never letting that customer-alluring smile leave her face. She stood by the man's side, giving Andy little glances here and there, as if to ask whether or not this situation was normal. This presumed "customer" and the angel locked eyes, staring off for an unnecessary long amount of time. He leaned closer over the desk, bringing his face near the boy's.
"... Ricketts, huh? Y'all got a nice place, 'ere. Y'all got nice folk." His words spilled from his mouth like a waterfall, no grace or elegance to it. "I might 'ave a little job for you."
"A job?" He replied, eyes sliding down the goat-man's dirty goatee, along the stained tank top and dusty leather jacket, eventually landing on his wrist. Prickled here and there, a field of ink stuck out from beneath the sleeve that raised a little with each of the man's moves. The more he straightened his arms, the more pressure he put on his hands lying flat against the desk. The more pressure he put on his hands, the more his sleeves rose, revealing a tattoo on his wrist. Messy, unsanitary, barely visible on his gray, unwashed skin… "What sorta job?"
"Oh, just a job, ya know… Logistics 'n all." He mumbled, leaning ever so closer. His eyes seemed a little empty, as if something had drained all the light that once resided within his skull. Andy kept his gaze focused on the ink, getting a few glimpses of something messily resembling a motorcycle and an "originium rose", one of those large, spiky mountains that usually fell from the sky and riddled any catastrophe-struck areas long after the cataclysm had passed. The letters "C.R." written next to them cleared any sort of doubts he might've had. "We gotta 'ave some cargo moved… Stuff like 'at. Ya in?" He continued, stopping his advance and staring at the boy, all blank and empty.
"... Personal space?" Dani mumbled to himself, which earned him another glare from Croissant. Andy gave the man a small nod, feeling his brain sweating a little.
"Sure. What, uh… What do you want me to do, exactly?" With any sort of fake enthusiasm left, he inquired.
"... Ya wanna step outside, mate? We'll discuss it out in the fresh air, aye? Can't really think with all these dam' detergents ya got spilled all 'round." He responded with a grim chuckle, now leaning almost his entire upper half across the desk.
"..."
Andy took a moment to piece the puzzle together. Croissant kept smiling brightly, Dani stepped back a little to save his poor nostrils from the sweat-alcohol concoction beaming off the walking goat-corpse. What did the great book of customer support say about people like this? He never read it, he wouldn't know. No such book even existed, duh.
"... I got a better idea." The ex-merc straightened himself a little in his chair, joining his hands together in front of his face.
"Yeah? What idea?" The death-clad man babbled, head tilting to the side with a little shriek of protest.
The hard surface of the desk beneath patiently waited. It waited and waited, finally gasping in awe as Andy forcefully grasped the corpse-man's leather collar and brought his arms downwards, slamming his face against the wood. A full curse managed to escape his mouth, as his teeth flew right out, blood spurting from each hole.
Croissant gasped, Dani's eyes widened. Andy jumped over the table, grabbing the fucker's hair and slamming his ugly mug against the desk once more, full force, no holding back. Papers flew, coffee spilled, mixing and blending with the rivers of blood now flowing from the living corpse's nose.
"F-Fuck! W-What the h-..." He tried to protest, reaching towards the boy with his arms, only to have his face squished onto the desk again. Every thud brought with itself a meaty, liquidy splat, as the man's face slowly but surely turned to mush.
"B-BAWS! BAWS, WHAT IN T-THE GODS' NAMES ARE YA DOIN'?" Croissant yowled in shock, taking a step back. As surprising as his actions might've been, she didn't even bother tearing the two of them apart. Dani only kept staring in genuine confusion, watching each individual droplet of blood fall onto the floor, staining the squeaky clean surface.
"F-... Fuh…! Stop! S-..." The Caprinae kept on mumbling in between waves of battering. Andy pulled him up from the desk and slammed his blood-covered fist into his mouth, making him fall onto his back, dragging the feral angel along. With a few grunts, the ex-merc crawled on top, sending punch after punch into the creature's jaw. It hurt a lot, probably a lot more than it hurt him, yet he didn't stop even for a second to check on his bruised fists.
"BAWS! LET GO OF 'IM! BAWS, THA'S NOT HOW YA TREAT CUSTOMERS!" She kept tweeting, jumping around the two in utter panic. Dani backed away a little, staring at the bloodbath and leaning against the desk for support.
"I k-know what you are, you ain't no customer." Words seeped from behind the boy's teeth, as he reached for his ankle, pulling an old friend from beneath his signature Kazdel-worn cargos. W's knife glimmered in the faint ray of setting sun from outside, as the ex-merc grasped the barely conscious corpse's hand and slammed it against the side of his desk. With another swift move, he glued the hand in place using his knife as a binder, slamming it deep into the open palm and nailing down hard. The Caprinae shrieked in pain, trying to jerk his hand away, only for the knife to slide deeper into his hand, unwilling to unstick itself from the wall.
"Look!" Andy groaned and ripped the creature's sleeve apart. The tattoo now laid on full display, being freed from its leather prison. "LOOK! C.R.! CATASTROPHE RIDERS!" He yelled towards Croissant, his heart beating way too fast to allow for any other tone of voice other than desperate screams. "BIKERS! AGAIN! A-..." He cut himself off suddenly, remembering the man's cheeky proposition to talk outside. "... There's more out. They're waiting." He mumbled towards the rest, dragging himself off the whimpering corpse. With a swift move, he tore the knife off the desk's side, sending the creature wailing in pain. A swift kick to the face later, the fiend laid silent, nose utterly disfigured, producing blood like a leaking dam.
"W-... Whaddya mean, waitin'? Ya got 'em bikers on us, now?" The girl warbled, panicking a little due to her current lack of proper equipment. "Baws, gods, ya should've said somn', I would've brought me magnetic mallet 'n shield…"
"I… What? How the hell could I have known?" He threw back, already on his way towards the desk. The inner drawers flew open, as his hands desperately threw out piles upon piles of papers, searching for another old friend.
"Yer… Yer right, ain't no way to tell when we're gawnna get struck." She stopped a little to think, narrowing her brows and seemingly already forgetting about the bloodbath from a moment ago. "Ya! Dani, was it?" Her finger shot towards the Ursus.
"I… Y-Yeah, Dani." He mumbled back, eyes still gued to the bleeding corpse.
"Dani! Ya got any experience? Any brawlin' behind ya belt? Scrappin'? Fightin'...?"
"N-No, I'm…" Softly, the words left his lips, lingering in the air. His knees quivered as he took a small step back, whispering to himself in Ursus. Andy could hear tiny little cut-ins of Victorian, something like "Why now? Why now?", repeated over and over, as if some higher power would eventually grace the dock-boy with a clear answer.
"... He ain't no good." Croissant summed up and sighed, before glancing towards the door. "Ya sure they're 'ere, baws? Might've just been one of these nutjobs."
"Oh, they're there, alright." Andy hissed through gritted teeth, as his hands finally laid upon the metallic beauty he's been searching for. A little, forgotten poet, some bard whose tune would very soon sound out once more. He took the pistol, a small can of Law-knows-what and flipped the safety, before racking the slide and rushing over to the door. Croissant followed suit, leaving the trembling Dani curling up on the floor.
They took both sides, left and right, backs pressed against the wall. Little by little, Andy pushed the door ajar, letting a soft, orange glow seep into the hall. Tiny specks of dust and musk arose from the floor, soaking in the light and gleefully running alongside the warm, bright rays.
.
"How many we got…?" Croissant's whisper carried a slight lick of excitement sprinkled into its reverberating sound waves, her eyes locked on the angel's.
His head flicked outside. He could see nothing. Feel, nothing. The kingdom of light.
"Too many. But I've seen worse." He murmured back, raising the metal can up to his lips and grasping the dingling metal ring with his teeth, ready to pull the pin at any moment. The girl immediately clicked her tongue and slapped his hand.
"Uh-Uh! Baws, tha's one way to lose yer teeth, 'n it sure ain't the prettiest." Her scolding came with a hint of amusement, as she took the grenade away and pulled the pin herself. A plume of smoke immediately shot from its end, along with a few sparks. They both covered their faces, Croissant with her heavy, fur-laced coat, Andy with his sweater. Just a swift move later, the grenade was out, tossed into the tiny slit of orange light between both doors.
"Alright." He gave a little sigh and pressed himself closer to the wall. "Dani, stay here, alright? Don't come out. Not until we tell you to."
Hearing his words, Dani let out a soft, pitiful whimper and started crawling away from the battered corpse. Croissant blew a raspberry at the sight.
"Some brave pals ya gawt, baws…" She chuckled.
"He's not usually like this." Andy mumbled back, glancing out to see whether the cloud's had already overtaken the court's radiant reign. "Besides, you got anything to fight with?"
"Got me fists, baws! What else do I need?" Croissant brandished her all natural knuckle-dusters with a silly grin. "'Though, I might have an idea or two…" She added, patting the ancient door a little, seeing just how loose it held onto its latches.
.
The angel nodded. Nuffer squealed in joy, his slide being racked back and forth. Croissant grasped the door's handle. Dani cowered in fear.
.
And as the grenade's hissing outside slowly grew quiet, more and more confused voices started oozing into their humble abode, their peace haven.
.
Their eyes locked.
.
Lips exchanged grins.
.
And voices sounded in unison.
.
"Ready?"
.
The door creaked heavily in protest.
.
"Always, baws."