3 - The D-Lister
Corneria City
Lylat System
Uptown
Sunrise
A passing maglev train jetted past the adjacent highrise penthouse. Though they'd billed it as 'silent' in the brochures, it rattled the coffee-toned rattan deck furniture and the reclaimed plankwood decking.
The deck's sole occupant noticed it.
Early morning express. Gods damn it. Good thing I slept the aftershocks off, Jimmy thought to himself.
There were perks living on the fifty-seventh floor. The views from the deck were incredible, the elevator rides were appropriately timed and his dealer's delivery drones actually arrived in a timely manner. However, that damned high-line train shook the place near every morning. It could lead to some bad trips when he wasn't careful.
After a healthy yawn, he stretched his arms. He kicked one leg over the side of the chaise and felt for his slippers. After finding them he took a moment to appreciate the seventeen degree morning air and the reddish hue of Solar embedding itself in the horizon down Chauncey boulevard. Lylat's second star wasn't much for heat but it made for stunning shadows in the morning.
He'd fallen asleep on the chaise lounge out on the deck again; something that was happening more and more lately. The spring air and constantly mild temperature always brought him outside late at night. He had a triangular corner property, which made the pace around the chevron shaped deck more interesting. The five-way intersection on Chauncy below was foot traffic only; as close to peace as you could have in Uptown.
The sliding door was half-open and some of the rocks from the small zen garden abutting the window-walls had been kicked about onto the hardwood. A trail of empties lay on the decking. Not his; Jimmy didn't drink.
The trail continued into the house with some of them stuffed in the well-kempt box shrubs in the corner. He imagined Ivar, his gardener, would be finding these little gifts for years to come.
Not to be outdone by the lesser star, the softer yellow light of Lylat peeked through what was apparently the single open blind in Jimmy's apartment. It was mid-spring, so Solar was only a few minutes ahead of Lylat. The massive beam of light illuminated part of the king-sized bed in the enormous two story bedroom. The disheveled satin-embossed bedding needed to be switched out for something more spring-like.
As he stood in the doorway, he was reminded of part of last night's entertainment. They were still sleeping in his king-sized bed. Two attractive women, although in his post-wakeup haze he seemed to remember a gentleman in the mix. Not sure where he came from, or if he was even real.
One, the husky, was his favorite barista at his favorite coffee shop. She tapped mindlessly on her PDA, oblivious to his existence. The other, some form of cat, a paralegal from the record company he brought out on a date to the very same coffee shop. Normally one was enough, but occasionally he made exceptions. It was easy for Jimmy to talk them up to his perch, he didn't even have to ask. There was some jealousy involved, but what Jimmy didn't expect was how both made quick friends of each other. Now the former had her arms wrapped around the latter. Like poetry, it rhymed.
What can I say, I love bringing people together. Jimmy thought, amused at the success of his little social experiment.
He plodded across the marble floors in his bedroom, careful to tiptoe across the shag rugs to avoid waking up his guests. On the far corner of the room he passed the fireplace and lounge he had just had installed, still warm from last night's fire. He entered the master bathroom to freshen up.
The lights automatically snapped on. Sensing their master's presence on an off day, they adjusted to a merciful seventy-percent brightness. Simultaneously, the room's heating pumps buzzed on and began to raise the room to a balmy eighteen degrees.
In the mirror he saw a slim, but fit, vulpes staring back at him. Twenty-six years old. About one-point-seven-five meters tall on an optimistic day. Reddish-brown fur, medium length. A small tuft of white fur on his head; much longer than his stylist often advised. Green eyes, looking more than a bit tired than usual this morning. Spitting image of his father, so he was reminded constantly. This resemblance contrasted strongly by his predominantly yellow floral-print bathrobe, monogrammed 'JPM'; and well, everything else.
The lights, of course, startled the half-naked dobermann canine asleep on the two-meter shag floor mat behind Jimmy. The dog shook himself awake from the fetal position, wide-eyed.
Jimmy was also a little surprised, he was used to seeing this type of spectacle in his living room. Or at least in the massive bathtub in the corner. His shock wore off rapidly.
"Good morning," Jimmy introduced, "I don't believe we've met."
The Doberman was confused, maybe even a little offended. Jimmy didn't notice, he wasn't really paying attention to the canid's face as he continued his morning routine.
"Wha-what?" He groveled, rubbing his eyes. "You invited me up! I'm your neighbor, Ca-"
"Carl! From downstairs! That's right!" Jimmy recalled, waving his hand.
"It's Carlos, but close enough," the dog corrected, "and what am I doing in here?"
"I was going to ask the same thing, there's a lovely couch or two out there."
"Last thing I remember, I was looking for a glass of water."
Jimmy extended his arm to his new friend.
"Did we?-" Jimmy asked, as he pulled his neighbor up from the floor.
"-No, you were way too high," Carlos insisted. "You were out on the deck trying to catch fireflies, or something. Lucky you didn't fall over."
Jimmy got a good look into the dog's gentle eyes. Brown and full of life.
"It was kinda cute, actually," Carlos added with some edge.
Maybe he was trying his luck for day two. More likely, it was just the rush of hooking up with a celebrity. Jimmy didn't really care at this point, his libido went autopilot as it was prone to do.
"Did it look like I was having fun?" Jimmy asked with his own modestly sultry undertones. He suddenly felt a little more alert.
Before his guest could answer the doorbell rang across the apartment. It also alerted through his PDA, meaning it was either family, close friends or his lawyer. Not now please.
"Gil, I'm not home right now," Jimmy barked, voice raised in inconvenience.
Gilberto was Jimmy's home's Virtual Intelligence assistant. His machine learning algorithms had some interesting inputs and corrections over its lifespan to be sure.
"Understood, master James. I will inform your guest."
Carlos helped himself to the mirror now, gussying up a bit.
"Thanks, Gil," Carlos said warily.
"Approximately, how longwill you not be home, sir," Gil asked with an alarming control of the sarcastic tone.
"I'm going to need at least twenty minutes."
Carlos suppressed a laugh and shook his head while mouthing the words, "forty."
The dobermann then hopped his bottom on the marble countertop.
"Yeah, Gil. Make that an hour," Jimmy said, sidling up to the counter.
"Confirmed, James. You will be home in an hour. You two have an excellent morning."
"I'm thinking wewill," Carlos teased. The VI was listening, but definitely learning to minimize its presence.
Jimmy was grateful that Gil had contained 'his' alert to the washroom, less chance to wake up his guests.
However, his own PDA's link to his home speakers was less nuanced, and they all played a two-way voice call in unison.
"Jimmy! You have about thirty seconds before I blast the lock," an angry voice echoed throughout the marble-floored bedroom. Unfortunately for the sleeping guests, the acoustics were sublime.
"It's Oh-six-hundred. I know you're in there. Put some trousers on and let me in."
Jimmy knew the voice well. Female, but not totally feminine. Direct, but not forceful. Familiar, but not entirely welcome.
"Jana," the vulpes tried to charm, holding the last 'a' in the name to delay her wrath..
Carlos watched the seductive mood palpably evaporating off his face.
"Your manager?" Carlos lamented, sensing their time was up.
"She seems to think so," Jimmy answered with some embarrassment, before clarifying.
"My twin sister."
"What did you do?" Carlos enquired, tilting his head and grinning.
"Hard to keep track, really."
Carlos nodded. leapt off the counter, turned on the sink and started running water through his hair. Jimmy spoke into his watch-style PDA as he walked through the doorway, determined not to burn any bridges with his guests.
"Jana, not now please. I'm-"
"-Don't bother," Jana said, reclining in one of the chaise lounge chairs by the bedroom fireplace. Her legs crossed, politely facing away from the two panicked ladies getting dressed. She had brought coffee for two. Knowing her, it would be black, bitter and boring.
She knows how to make an entrance, that's for sure.
"New roommates?" She asked, a mischievous smile on her snout.
James sat in the seat abutting her, taking a sip of his coffee. It was exactly as he predicted.
"Black, no sugar? Bless your heart," he chortled.
She looked well enough, Jimmy noted. Dressed 'casually' in a gray button down, tailored, sleeves rolled past her finally took his advice and bought pants that fit her the way she needed them to. Her hair was wavy again, rather than the military bun she'd had for years. She was smiling, which was nice to see. Jana also looked much better rested than usual.
Jimmy didn't see her that much lately, maybe three or four times in the last year. Bounty hunting barely paid expenses, and mercenary work wasn't in vogue anymore. Besides, when she wasn't doing that, she was training relentlessly.
Carlos, who had just emerged shirtless from the washroom, had an amusing look of pure terror on his face. Not how he anticipated his morning to go.
"Very cool, Jana, I guess I'm just replacing locks whenever you're in town."
"You've been replacing them?" She sputtered, halfway between sipping and tasting her first sip of coffee.
"The doors are fine. They've been fine."
Jimmy suddenly felt a burning sensation on his face.
"Tools of the trade, Jimmy. Software bug in your door hardware. You never learn."
"Gil runs the updates," Jimmy said, staring a hole into his ceiling. Gilberto knew better than to defend himself, and his programming made note to prioritize patching.
"Just like back in school," Jana said, giggling.
She chuckled, most likely remembering all the times she'd hide contraband in his locker, or replace the contents of his locker with expired food products if he got on her bad side. It hadn't been all bad, she'd developed a hobby of altruistic pickpocketing; stealing from Jimmy's bullies and leaving him enough credits and valuables to afford whatever he needed.
"How's mum?" Jana asked, crossing her legs.
"Worried."
"I knew the answer before asking."
"You should call her more," Jimmy insisted.
"She never picks up."
Jimmy's guests, by now, dressed and seeking a little guidance. They loitered by the nightstands, pretending to check their bags.
Jana switched to business mode.
"We need the room, Jimmy."
Jimmy looked at Carl apologetically. To his massive credit, he seemed to understand. Since he lived in the building, he didn't have far to go anyway.
"Sorry neighbor, raincheck?" Jimmy offered.
"You two," he waved at the new couple, I'll see you around soon."
They departed without any drama. Jimmy even thought he saw them holding hands as they reached the door.
Carl was looking for something in the washroom again. Probably his missing shirt.
"Carl, let me at least get you a new shirt."
"It's Carlos," he answered indignantly before humbling his tone a bit, "and I would really appreciate that."
"Pick anything in your size,: Jimmy said, pointing at his walk-in closet, "I'll be downstairs to collect at some point," Jimmy offered, not so subtly.
"Call it a date?" Carlos asked, before ducking into the walk-in.
"Mmm, Wouldn't go that far," Jimmy mumbled. "Let's just play it by ear. Shall we?"
Jana was more used to this type of spectacle than the average person. She wasn't the affectionate type, but knowing her brother she was probably a bit more surprised at how moderate it was.
She leaned in and whispered the words, "He's cute," with a surprising level of warmth.
Jimmy shrugged, "He'll do," he whispered back.
"Careful. Little out of your league if you ask me," she teased, to Carlos' defense.
Jimmy didn't react. He wasn't worried about options, possessing only one general rule: no neighbors on the same floor. Anywhere else in the building was fair game.
Jimmy sat down on the opposing chaise lounge on the other end of the fireplace
"So how's business?" he asked, beginning their usual bout of social diplomacy. It was always like this; Jana keeping inward and Jimmy oversharing.
"How's your new album coming along?" She negotiated, avoiding the question.
"Great," Jimmy lied, "Doing well. Spending a lot of time in the lab researching older sounds."
"Older sounds?" She repeated, nodding and teetering on a tone between boredom and belittling.
There was an uncomfortable, if symbolic, silence between them. None disliked each other; in fact they considered themselves quite close. But there was not much in common between them, at least not anymore. Despite the same beginnings, they diverged into polar opposite lifestyles.
Jana sipped loudly on her cup. The only other sounds for a moment were the ticking analog clock on the mantle and the click-clatter of clothes hangers in the walk-in.
"Let's skip the bullshit, for once," she reassessed, having quickly lost her interest in Jimmy's career.
"Gentle touch as always," Jimmy said, shaking his head.
"Why do you want back in?"
"Was I ever out?" Jimmy asked, snapping back to attention. He didn't like being excluded from his family legacy.
Carlos rushed out of the bedroom, breaking the tension. He must have sensed the energy in the room, as he scurried out with his belongings haphazardly scrunched in his hands. He picked one of my favorite shirts, the little shit! Jimmy whined to himself. Maybe I will actually be back to collect later.
"See you later James McCloud," Carlos practically yelled, strutting his new deep-v neck shirt out the door. What he would have considered a tail swishing back and forth with pride.
'Jimmy' took one last peek and went back to bed, 'James' waved back. His two clashing personas.
"We tried this years ago, but it didn't work out for us," Jana said.
"Pushing guilt already? Classic Jana."
Close ambush rule number one; fight through the ambush.
"No, no," James retorted, turning his head to meet her. "It didn't work out for me. Remember?"
"Ah yes," she scoffed, "always advocating for yourself."
"Somebody has to," James retorted. "All I wanted was studio space and some godsdamn time off!"
"Sorry, we didn't have much of a music scene back on the Fox," Jana stated plainly, choosing to play the defensive angle for once. "I'm just curious. Roze is doing great with you in it."
"What's changed? Isn't this what you wanted?""
James honestly didn't know why he was stepping away from his current act, Rozal. They had just spent a few months in the studio completing their third album at James' behest. It was pretty good too. Radical departure from my predecessors' more industrial techno-punk start. More progressive sounds.
"I mean, it's not my style," She continued on, "But it looked and sounded like you're having fun, no?"
"Well," she observed. "Looks like you're having fun."
"Why does everything need a reason with you?" James said, closing his eyes.
"Maybe I just missed my sister? Maybe I'm not made out for staying in the same place too long?" Maybe I miss flying, maybe it's the drugs, maybe it's the adrenaline junkie in me."
James realized he hadn't really monologued about it before. He just felt a calling to take a break and do something else.
"What about the money?" Jana asked, squinting her eyes and studying his every movement.
"I've got more than dad started me with. More than I know what to do with," James said, unaware how that might have sounded.
"Would you believe me if I said 'I don't know'?" James finally clamored, leaning further back into his chair. He felt a ray of sunlight poking through one of the half open blinds hit the top of his head.
Rozal had been as shocked as Jana was, maybe more. James wasn't the best singer on Corneria, nor was he the best instrumentalist, but he had great stage presence and he played the guitar; a fairly arcane instrument. He wrote most of their songs and was the hardest worker of the bunch. They'll be lost without me. James not so humbly thought.
"Absolutely," she responded tersely. "Acting without thinking is something you're somewhat famous for. I don't need to open a tabloid to know that. That's what concerns me, that you haven't thought any of this through."
"So what exercise are we doing this time?" James questioned, ignoring her. "Training cadets in close-in work? Militia work? I swear, if it's another surveillance mission, I'm gonna'-"
"-Funny that, it's a proper mission this time," Jana replied, smirking the whole way through James' complaints. His palpable energy for something real may have eased some of her doubts.
"It's not some canned red-team exercise like we've been used to."
"Tell me more," James asked.
"Can't. I only know as much as you do. Briefings tonight if you're still in."
"That squirrelly, eh?" James asked, using a fairly tame species slur.
She nodded.
"Of course, I'm in then."
She shifted her weight in the seat and was silent for what felt like an eternity. She studied him for a few more moments before standing and walking to the window closest to the aerial avenue above the eastern terrace of his deck. There was a lot of drone traffic this morning; but almost no taxies or ferrycars.
"I guess I'm just a little worried about your motivation," She said, back turned. "I need stable, grounded thinkers."
Unbelievable. James was more than a little upset. He'd been flying in above-military-grade spacecraft since he was four years old, same as her. So she's a little more experienced. We both had five-thousand hours behind an Arwing before we were ten!
She turned around and faced him. He could tell his sister was in there, but she was talking to him as a flight leader. He may have looked like their father, but she took the most after him.
"Why do you want to fly with us again?" Jana asked with a tone more direct. "I know you can fly, I know you can fight. You've done enough for a lifetime already. We're not leaving together until I get an answer."
"Give me a reason why."
"You have it made here, Jimmy. I mean look at this place," she said pointing at the marble, the columns, the boutique furniture.
"Oh come on, Jana," James replied, trying to shrug off what he assessed as compliments. "I'm at best a D-list celebrity. A C-list singer with a B-list name."
"What do you need us for?" She continued.
"I don't know. I felt…" He drifted, unsure of how to answer.
"Like you could make a difference?" She anticipated, eyes again transfixed on the aerial traffic outside. "So you can make the galaxy a better place; like we were raised to do?"
She has to know that's bullshit. Right?
"No."
She turned around; disturbed by his honesty but attempting to mask it with her faux listening face. Always the same Jana, once she has an idea in her head she sticks with it. Stubborn.
"I'm just…"
"Bored," James droned. "Just bored, I guess."
James couldn't read the emotion on Jana's face, but she got her message across eventually. Disappointment, but resignation. James was a language she struggled to speak.
"Well, mister D-lister. You're an A-list asshole. That's for sure."
"Get ready, I'll help you pack up."
"No thanks, Jana. I'll handle that."
There was no way he was letting her pick his outfits for the next six months.
Udaev (Minor)
Colonial Space
Midrim Desert
Morning
It was now closer to 0600 Lylat time and Udaev was no further up the horizon than it had been since they left the Vikr facility. Thirty-four hour days meant Udaev minor's nights were long and cold.
Thwack.
The sound of pitons being driven into the ground reverberated.
Luckily for Ariane, the physical task of anchoring the rope guides into the cliffsides was keeping her plenty warm. She periodically looked over her shoulder at the tarp keeping Zeouna covered while she worked. She could see only the bottoms of Zeouna's boots and her bushy tail flailing about in the frigid wind. Her friend was 'busy' keeping an eye on the Vikr perimeter that had set up around the rim as a result of their malfeasance. I guess rank has its privilege, Ari thought.
There had been some air patrols and satellite flyovers, but nothing so intense to worry them. Once they hit the border, it would be a different story.
Thwack. Thwack.
She rested her piton hammer on a nearby boulder for a second and shifted her weight to her left leg to get blood flowing. There was only one way out of the rim, apparently. Ariane thought, cursing the circumstances. And it's down this damned gorge. They had ditched the levitruck a few kilometers east. Ariane pondered how far they might have gotten if they'd kept riding it.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
Ariane's last hammer swings planted the piton home in a slab of granite.
In truth, Ari knew Zeo had asked her to set up the ropes because she herself was terrible at it. No patience. No finesse. She tested the rope; it was snug but not immovable. The rappel line and rig they'd set up earlier were already clipped on. Of course, the brave Zeouna would go first and hold the bottom line steady for me. How considerate of her. Ari smiled, committing the prophetic image to mind. She had no doubts how it would play out.
The ferret heard footsteps approach her in the dirt.
Zeouna, teeth-chattering and wearing her heat blanket like a cape, had approached the edge and was peering over. She must have been studying the terrain looking for a cave entrance; but the visibility was poor.
Zeo cocked her head left at Ari and gave her a once-over.
Ariane hated heights; and it was a two-hundred meter sheer drop into the ravine. Then there were the aquifers. Ariane didn't consider herself overly superstitious, but there were too many old ghost stories of the horrid place for her to feel comfortable.
Then there was Zeouna herself, a smile dancing on her muzzle, a live tale of mischief being penned in her turquoise eyes.
The other Ketumati called her 'Lady Zeouna', or just by her name if they knew her well enough; though there were few that did. Ariane called her 'Zeo'. A special privilege reserved only for her.
Ariane had fallen for Zeo a couple of winters ago. They both knew it; or so Ari suspected. Though it never seemed to surface consistently enough for it to be official.
The heights, the potentially haunted valley below them, or Zeouna. Between the three, Ariane didn't know what made her knees weaker.
But tonight was a night of firsts and the eldest Jean-Starkly daughter was in no rush to get down there. She sat on the dirt, holding herself up by her arms and took in the beautiful desert scenery.
Zeouna, on the other hand, started rigging herself up. She slipped a hastily made web harness between her legs and roped up two carabiner clips above her right shoulder, which Ariane thought was strange. She was silent the whole while.
Ariane knew Zeo was in a focused rush; It's how she knew Zeouna loved her back. She was taking this a bit more seriously than she would be if she was alone or with her much vaunted scouts. Her protective instincts not wanting to delay their escape a single minute for Ariane's sake. It would have been cute to Ari had it not occurred to her that Zeouna would likely have tackled greater risks on her own.
"So," Zeouna led, her tone indicating some implicit self-importance; an ego based on experience. The clang of the aluminum S-clips filled some of the gap.
"So." Ari mocked, mimicking some of Zeouna's pomposity
Zeo flashed the ferret a quick disapproving glance before continuing.
"I'll go first, and hold the ropes for you at the bottom."
Ari smirked as her prediction of Zeouna's chivalry came to pass. This earned her a quizzical look from the fox, who suddenly leaned defensively.
"I know you get a little shaky up high," Zeo said, with more than a tinge of an insult on the last part of the sentence..
Ariane rolled her eyes and stood back up in response.
"Careful, love. I control the ropes from up here, remember?"
"And what happens when you have to navigate these caves alone?" Zeouna asked, "Gonna' call your daddy?"
Ari, never one to back down from a challenge, was snout-to-snout with Zeo.
"You know, now that you mention it," Ariane spoke, "I think he'd be happy to hear from me."
"Tempted?"
"Just don't let me down. That's all I'm saying," Ari said.
Ariane's famous short-fused temper always gave her a little more courage than was needed and this night was no exception. No one else could talk to Rao Zeouna this way, and Ari knew it. Timoteus would strangle them where they stood if they tried, she thought. It wasn't in jest; she'd seen it.
"Ready, love?" Zeouna asked, breathing a bit heavier now.
"Yeah. I just want to enjoy this moment a little longer. That's all."
"That's all?" Zeo questioned, temporarily losing interest in checking her gear. She wasn't grinning anymore. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Ari said. Zeouna looked confused, like she was searching for something she did wrong.
"Zeo," Ari finally accused, "You know you can't hide anything from me."
"Then what are you afraid of?" Zeo asked in a gentler tone.
"That's a long drop," Ariane stuttered, "And I'm tired of running."
She'd accidentally told the truth this time. It wasn't a revelation, but Zeo had so much going on that she figured she'd remind her.
Zeouna spent a long moment studying Ariane's eyes, the surety in her own having been quietly removed. Not quite knowing how to end a romantic friendship and start something more permanent.
She's the smartest person I've ever known, but she has trouble understanding how we feel about each other.
Before they knew it they were holding hands again. This time neither of them realized when it had happened.
"Running from what?" Zeouna asked, seeking an end to a question she already knew there were two answers to.
Ariane didn't understand why Zeouna had such a hard time with these feelings. Gods knew, she didn't hide them well. And Ari knew of Zeo's many exploits, she'd endured some of her conquests firsthand. The hybe' was far from a prude.
The tension was already high, but this took it to the next level. Ariane hovered closer to her friend until she could feel warmth radiating off her. She closed her eyes and went in for a kiss.
To her delight, Zeouna didn't just accept it; she kissed back. Her arms wrapped around Ariane's waist.
As she had a well-earned reputation for, Zeouna immediately reached a little lower than Ari anticipated. Ari opened her eyes in shock, only to be greeted by the wily cerulean irises of her best friend.
It wasn't their first kiss, but it was definitely their best. Also their most sober.
Zeouna placed her right hand on Ariane's face. Gently pulling her fingers through the shorter fur and stepped back, giving her some space.
"About bloody time," Zeo finally said. "Been waiting all night."
"Why didn't you make the first move, then?" Ari asked.
"Power dynamics, Ari. You wouldn't understand,"
A clever half lie, of course. Like most Ketumati, Zeouna struggled with trust on a good day. Unlike them, she never had a tribe. And most importantly, Zeouna was the leader of the cross-tribal council.
Zeouna didn't have the luxury of trust. All eyes were on her, and she'd had multiple self-proclaimed rivals. She'd had her detractors who probed for any weakness in her coalition, particularly from Ariane's own guild; the Nurr. It took years for Zeouna to trust Ariane with Ketumati secrets, let alone Zeo's own. The tension had always been there, it just never seemed to work its way out.
But Ariane had always loved her. From the moment they'd met in that Settler City pawnshop eight years ago; two kids fighting over the contents of that safe they'd cracked 'together'. To this day, Zeouna still didn't remember who came out on top during that ordeal. Perhaps Ari would remind her later.
"We can discuss later," Zeouna abruptly declared, breaking Ariane out of her reminiscent thoughts. "Let's put some distance between us and the bastards down first."
"Yes, ma'am," Ariane mocked, feigning a salute. Zeouna scoffed.
Ariane, for her part, was relieved. It seemed like tonight was a success after all.
That was the part I was nervous about. Now to do what I'm actually afraid of.
Ariane nodded, and reached down into the dirt to grab her harness. After a few moments spent checking and rechecking her configuration, she was ready to belay her friend.
Zeouna hooked up. She was facing the wrong way, probably just to get a view of where she was going.
"Ready?" Ariane asked.
"Of course," Zeouna responded with genuine befuddlement, turning her head toward her friend.
"You can go then."
"Oh? I have your permission?" Zeo teased.
"You usually have something cheeky to say before stuff like this."
"Some pithy comment about unnecessary risks or something," she continued teasing with a considerable amount of smugness.
"Go ahead, tell me another ghost story, love."
She was doing that pouty thing again. It drove Ari mad.
She did not correct her form. Her grip was strange. Why is she using her right as her brake hand?
"Not this time," Ariane said, preparing a three-point grip for the rope. "I won't try to stop you."
"You couldn't anyway," Zeouna taunted, Abseiling face forward over the cliff face.
The fox-dog hybrid was ten meters down before Ariane could even react, tail flailing behind her as she spit in gravity's face.
"It's 'I love you too.' Asshole!" Ari bellowed down the ravine.
She couldn't hear Zeouna chuckling her way down the granite gulch. Nor see the toothy smile beaming across her face.