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The smell of fumes permeated the air.
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A tumult of breezes carried concerning scents in a whirlwind, making them scatter and forcing to swing back and forth. The motorized harbor still teemed with life even during the blackened and late hours of the night.
Andy felt a hundred gazes sliding over his shoulders when he draggled behind Dani's leading steps. Ursine ears stuck from behind crates and loaded trucks, from behind plumes of bursting sparks and conjunctions of noise. They rolled their cigarettes from finger to finger without even attempting to muffle or hide the scowl on their faces. Andy, hurried by the peculiar hostility of their welcome, added a little spring to his step, catching up to Dani.
"... What's up with the union guys today? Why're they all staring at us like that?" He asked, worriedly tugging at his limp sleeve to make it seem more lively than it was. Dani shot him a sidelong look, seemingly deaf or blind to his concerns.
"What do you mean "staring like that?" Like what?"
"Like that, I dunno. Exhibit A." Andy pointed to a nearby group of forklift operators, their fluttering ears swelling at the near-indistinguishable muffle of the boys' footsteps. They stood in a little circle, privately humming under their noses in a language he couldn't understand. Their eyes spoke for them though, sizing the angel's every inch. "... I feel like they're just gonna… like they're gonna drop those cigs, grab a buncha wrenches and disassemble me at any time."
"Oh? Ohoho!" Dani chuckled jovially, punching him in the stub. "Nooo, c'mon! Nothing like that, what're you talking about? It's just late, Mister Ex-merc. It's late, we're all just tired."
"Yeah, you ghouls better be." A voice familiar only to Andy rasped from the ground level. Emperor waddled up to them both, holding the boy's left. "I don't pay outsiders for my package handlin' usually, but when I do I expect y'all to work HARD, not sit on ya asses, smokin' the day away. Ya better be tired twenty-four to the seven, dig? Tired from runnin' and unpackin' the shit I order."
"I assure you sir, we're all very tired from handling your packages." Dani politely smiled at the penguin, baring his warmest gaze into the waddler's bottomless sunglasses. "So tired in fact, I forgot to ask why you're here in the first place. Is it a personal pick-up thing? I'm sorta leading our dear Andy here to his boss, I assume for company-related manners."
"Naw, no pick-ups." Emperor flicked a wing nonchalantly, fixed his beanie. "Just wanna get acquainted with the big man 'round here. Meet "Andy's" boss, tell him what's what and why I'm Top Gun's new manager from now on."
"Oh?" Dani curiously perked his ears. "Is that so, Drew? You're getting another job on the side?"
"Well, um…" Andy raised his hand, but Emperor cut him off with a firm chortle.
"Naw, delivery-boy. The Penguin Empire's acquiring a new, full-time dishpig jester. Medieval style."
"Medieval style…?" Dani rubbed his lip, confused.
"Forcefully." Another unfamiliar voice buzzed by his shoulder, but this time he could look the speaker in the eyes without seeing his own shoes. "Or not. The nature of our presence here is purely informational. Whether it turns physical or not is just a matter of how your boss takes the revelation."
"... Yeah, that." Andy awkwardly chuckled, mentally thanking both Emperor and Texas for tearing the words out of his throat. "... Something like that, I guess."
"Oh, mmm, I see…" Dani stared Texas in the eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time, but neither seemed eager to be the first one to falter. "... You got a whole new job, then?"
"Something like that, yeah…" Andy hummed, haphazardly avoiding a spilling of rubber cables on the concrete. Emperor snapped his "fingers" (Andy had no idea how) and Texas shifted in an instant to carry him over the obstacle. "... You know, I've been thinking for a longer while about a change of pace actually. It's just that... to be honest with you, I don't think I'm cut-out for running a company on my own, you know? I just don't feel like I can keep handling all those Union orders. It's nothing personal, though. Nothing Duflot won't understand, I'm sure."
"Hey, if you say so…" Dani hummed...
"Oh, we know so." Emperor slapped himself in the chest a few times, effectively flicking the rap-star on his shirt on the nose. "If not, and I don't mean to be a debbie downer, no sir-e, but if not, then what are y'all gonna do about it? Leave him a sour review on LinkedOut? Do word of mouth? Mud his rep? Bad sport, overall."
"Weeeell, there really is no telling as to what Mr Duflot may do…" Dani sighed deeply, waving lazily to a couple of Ursine faces by a truck with its back-side wide open. They went back and forth, carrying pallets of bubble-wrapped something, all the while shooting the four some rather unsavory looks. "... Maybe he'll take it well? Maybe not? Who am I to know?"
"Cut the crap." Texas spoke calmly, her hair fluttering with malice in the wind. "You try to pull something, we'll have the entire harbor kneeling in dust by midday tomorrow. Smoldering."
"..." Dani raised his brows, blankly pacing ahead.
"... If you say so, подружка. "
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The gentle swing of the pendulum clock clicked just as annoyingly repetitively as Andy remembered. Back and forth the swaying arm went, dusting up unnecessary tension in the wake of each word exchanged. He couldn't imagine how uncomfortable Duflot's front-desk chair must've felt just about now, and he silently thanked Emperor for letting him stay back by Texas' side (and more importantly, by the door.)
The penguin didn't seem to have any troubles with lounging about in that devil of a furniture piece. Maybe because if he did actually sit down, he'd miss the uncharacteristically blank scan coursing through Duflot's specs. Andy couldn't tell much from the old man's eyes either, even though he didn't possess the same height-related problems as his new employer. They were just too blank. Too unreadable. Too glossy and mirror-y at the same time, all because of those muddy glasses on his nose.
And neither could he tell anything from his voice.
.
"... I see." Duflot quietly uttered, having listened to Emperor's rhyme-y and winding performance about the imminent (and forceful) severing of Andy's ties with the Motorized Harbor. "It's a mutual decision, then?"
"Mutual as can be. I say, they do – that's how we roll. Me, them: one." Emperor leaned his "elbows" on the desk. "Nothin' personal of the sort, nothin' to spill blood or lose sleep over. Just some friendly hostile takeover on four am thursday, that's Lungmen for you."
"..."
Not even a rustle of fabrics came from the man. His usually talkative and expressive cashmere seemed a little dimmer that night, a little less colorful. More monochromatic.
"... Andrew?" He spoke, having ignored Emperor completely. Andy felt a non-existent bucket of cold dread spilling down his body at the realization that he would need to actually take responsibility for his actions, a first time in a while.
"..." He gulped and heard Texas' ear flutter at the sound. "... Yeah. Yes, Mr Duflot, it's a mutual decision."
"Hm." He hummed. Andy felt something heavy piling in his stomach, something that made every single one of his beforehand-prepared excuses crumble. Weeks, reaching to utter months, of mental preparation, hundreds of hours spent staring into mirrors while tearing miniscule check after check, all of it gone, shattered in an instant. And all it took was just one slightly disappointed hum.
"Told ya. Mutual, hand-crafted and hand-delivered." Emperor pulled a neatly folded envelope from beneath his shirt, placed it firmly on the table. Andy jumped at the slam, Texas wiggled her left ear. "Now here's his official resignation, along with some "sweeteners" so that you ain't left with a sour taste in ya trap. Call it a personal gift from the head of Penguin Logistics. Call it a parting gift, hehe. Actually, call it anything ya want, just not a bribe."
"I did not intend to." Duflot reached with surprising grace, and pocketed the paper. "... I assume you're waiting for a bundle of documentation? Andrew's official acquittal of removal from the Union and the Harbor?"
"Uh…" Emperor went a little deadpan, fixed his glasses, and coughed awkwardly. "... I mean, shit. Sure, if you wanna. Wasn't expectin' a proper legal send-off, but I guess that's just how you bourgeoisie rats operate. Sure, doc me up."
"There's nothing bourge about the Harbor or the Union." Duflot sat up, fingers dancing with one another by the tips. "I've told Andrew long ago what the deal with our commitment was. Care to remind us?"
Their eyes met, then immediately dipped when Andy caved and dug into his shoes. "... Making the everyday man as rich as the sharks from Section One." He uttered, somewhat messily reciting from memory.
"Exactly." Duflot's dulled grays gleamed in Emperor's shades. "The downright brutish claiming of one of my most trusted delivery companies, that I can understand. But-..."
"The "trusted delivery company" went up in smoke." Texas cut in, calmly. "There was nothing to claim. Ricketts came to us personally afterwards, and he could've–..."
"Ak-hem." Andy awkwardly cleared his throat, nudging the girl. "Reiff. Reiff, Reiff, not Ricketts."
"..." She shot him a look, continuing as if he wasn't even there. "... He could've gone and asked for a position within your ranks just as easily. But he didn't, because he simply made a choice. Us. Our company. Not yours."
"..." Duflot paid them both no mind. "... But the badmouthing of my Union, I won't tolerate. Alas, that is for you to consider yourself. I've nothing more to tell you."
"Huh?" Emperor hung onto the edge of the desk. "Whaddya mean "nothin' more?" Ya get me this excited for some docs to roll up with, and now ya suddenly "don't have anything more to tell me?" Where are the documents?"
"There aren't any. That's what I was attempting to get at." Duflot lazily swept the air with his massive arm, ran it through the non-existent hair on his head. "Andrew wasn't ever a legal employee, just the owner of a friendly company. Not as friendly as I had initially assumed, anyway."
Andy curled inside at the insinuation.
"... But, still. I took a risk, and that risk simply sunk." He continued, with the creak in his chair as he turned towards the clock. "And now my work ethic is also at risk. You're lingering, I'm lingering, and the arrows are also lingering. They're lingering over four in the morning, creeping into the start of my working hours."
"You sleep in your office?" Emperor lifted his glasses, sizing the massive tub of cashmere and fat. "I guess it suits you, man. Suits you well, suit yourself. Biz is done, we're out. Peace."
Unceremoniously, he hopped off the chair and grabbed Andy by the sleeve on the way out.
"C'mon. What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine too. And your ass isn't his anymore, it's mine. Everything's mine, this is the Penguin Empire expansion they write about in history books."
"What history books…?" Andy let himself be dragged out of the office, catching a glimpse of Duflot's glistening head just one last time before Texas shut the door behind.
"The best ones. The ones where they're gonna put me and you, and the girls. Respectively." He shot Texas a sidelong glance, getting a gentle nod in response. "... They're gonna put our asses in there as the loudest rockstars in Lungmen, mark it."
"..." Andy still felt a little remorseful about the entire Union business, but the mention of a "loud Lungmenite rockstar" immediately put his brain on a new set of tracks. "... Isn't that Nuffer's title already?"
"Whose?"
"Nuffer's. Nuffer, this guitarist guy. I thought he was signed to your label?"
"Yeah?" He flicked the glasses off, reaching for Texas and her support. They've made it out of the container piled mess-kingdom, standing before the last obstacle bordering their freedom – a flimsy rope ladder. "And what about him? I dunno, 'cause it's not really my label per-se, Drewie. Shady shit goes off behind the scenes, I don't wanna muddle into none of that. Ya can just think of me as the mastermind bar-machine collaborator keeping their scruffs afloat, hehe."
Andy watched him clamber onto Texas' shoulders, soon starting their descent.
"Yeah, no, it just sort of came to me, I guess. Just when you said that about the, uh-... the "loudest rockstars", whatever. 'Cause that's what people would call him, I think." He babbled while climbing down, careful not to tag the girl with a shoe or knock Emperor's beanie off. "... I don't know, actually. I might've hallucinated that part."
"Hallucinated? You two went our partyin'?" Emperor chuckled. "You of all people? Worming into the show-biz world behind my back?"
"Not really, it's just…" Andy sighed. "... He's just been calling me constantly for the past few weeks. Nagging, whatnot. I had Croissant work my phone and personally tell him I was unavailable the entire time, but I don't think that's gonna cut it anymore…"
"Croissant?" Now he perked up fully. Andy could see the penguin's little beady eyes drilled into him every time he glanced down to check the distance. "What's with ya two, anyway? Shit went down last week, I ain't ever seen her that angry at someone."
"..." The words wrapped a bouquet of rocks around his heart. It weighed him down nearly enough to make him lose balance and plummet straight past the two, straight towards a head-on collision with the concrete. "... It's a long story."
"Ye-eah." Emperor hopped off Texas' shoulders on ground level, watching Andy soon join in. "Long story, and we got time. Pretty big block to cross."
"..."
They glanced around. Behind, the clutter of containers oozed a cold hue of malice; but in front, the anthill teeming with Union workhands proved just as welcoming as a live minefield. Dani or someone, Andy didn't know who and he really wished not to blame his late "friend", must've spilled the beans about his sudden departure, so a procession had gathered to "properly" goodbye him with a grim send off. Hundreds of Ursian worker ants encircled them from the left and right, forming a flesh tunnel dominantly ruled by Union blue. Drooping gazes and disdainful scowls riddled their faces, along with unlit cigarettes and gloved hands that tended to the tobacco with cheap zippo lighters. Hushed words kept spilling, sweeping around their ranks with the wind, unreachable and unreadable for the poor, poor three. Emperor put his shades back on, readjusted them twice to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Texas lightly patted down her coat, assumedly making sure her arts-swords were still tucked in place. Even Andy found himself rubbing at his coat, subconsciously checking for Nuffer's wooden grip. The edge remained firm, soft and warm when hugged by the woolen under-layer of the cloth. Inviting, nearly. Andy slipped a finger between the zipper, slowly beginning to split the thing loose…
"... Guess we gotta move story-time down the line." Emperor fixed his shirt assuredly, and the sound of his voice broke Andy from his daze. The mere fact he even thought about pulling a gun on his former colleagues immediately made his cheeks and ears flare up with red. "... C'mon, Drewie. Texas, clear ahead."
"On it." She hummed back, confidently stepping forward and beginning the trek towards their van. The two followed closely behind, with Andy tailing at the very end.
"I'll, um… I'll see ya around, Dani." He flicked a quick wave to the boy, met only with a half-assed nod. Some Ursian body-mass that surrounded him spat on the ground, flipping a heavy-duty wrench around their fat gloves.
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And from far, far above, the malicious gleam of a clacking camera followed their every step. Legs shuffling by the floor, tails sweeping the unknown residue that littered the ground, the three of them were guided all the way back to the van by a pair of invisible eyelids that rested behind a weighted brass frame. Only once the vehicle had taken motion and disappeared from the Harbor's surveillance, did Duflot let out a weary sigh, reaching beneath his desk to tear a piece of duct-tape off the bottom.
A sturdy tape-recorder rolled in his palm.
"... As you could've very clearly heard, Mr Gambino, the subjects of our shared woes and troubles are much… much more closely knitted than you might've initially thought." He spoke calmly into the speaker. "I say we make this collaboration of ours a lucrative one, provided you throw in the towel staining your pride. A Union man's life is just as honorable as a family head's."
The tape kept rolling, but Duflot took a moment to savor the next words, to cherish them in his head and let the folds of his brain chew them thoroughly.
"... Especially now, considering there isn't much of a family for you to order around anymore."
He paused, a sweet smile baring his squeaky clean teeth.
"Welcome to Lungmen, Mr Gambino. I hope you can make the best of it."
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~Click~
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The tape ended with one last tick of the pendulum. The containers were left to shroud in the cool night, mire in their own bidding.
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"..."
Andy stared out the window in silence, watching lampposts rapidly flicker by. The golden lights would flutter and change shapes, depending on the street and the quality of the base glass. Sometimes they'd turn a shrill race-blue. Sometimes they'd turn dim, leaving him staring emptily at the modern urban nightmare, the sprawl of concrete progress.
Anyhow, the ride home was rather peaceful. Uneventful, mostly quiet, void of any unnecessary shootouts or insult matches with other members of traffic. Dare I say downright boring. Andy tried his best not to zone out and succumb to the overall blankness spreading outside, creeping into his brain, but the overarching lack of sleep combined with one of Sora's more amateur (not really on par with Andy's more LOUD tastes) mixtapes murmuring softly from the speakers, it proved a truly herculean effort. Just as his eyes had managed to flutter shut, his cheek sliding down the freezing cold surface of the window, Emperor seemed to have remembered his existence.
"Oh, hol'on, hol'on, hol'on, hol'on." He waved his wings and flippers around, dusting up a startled wiggle of Texas' ears. "We lost the plot somewhere along the way."
"Was there anything to lose in the first place?" Andy sleepily mumbled against the glass, rubbing his crusty eyes. "I don't think we really had a plan for today or anything…"
"No. No plan, that's how we roll. That, you got right." Emperor commended his perceptivity with a firm pat to the shoulder. "But I'm talkin' about our tongues here. The ins and outs, art of conversation."
"Mmm." Texas kept her half-lidded gaze steadfast on the road, her eyes scanning the entire perimeter the headlights lit. "Maybe for the best."
"Or maybe not? We got a whole ass PRO-fessional up in this hoe now, a true and tested son of KAZDEL, running logistics for ME, and YOU, to your knowledge. Fact is, you know what?" He poked her in the rib, eliciting no reaction whatsoever. "You're on babysitting duty tomorrow, late gloomer. Gonna show him the ropes, run a delivery or two, show him how the Penguin Empire rolls."
"I'm already on babysitting duty with Exusiai." She calmly murmured, taking a left sharply enough to plaster Andy's face all over the window. "I can't cram two rookies."
"Bull. Exu ain't no rookie at this point." He tapped the dashboard to garner her attention. Texas spared him a staggering sixteen milliseconds before returning to the road. "She can run a few close-ranger's on her own. She's a smart girl."
"..." Texas remained quiet, but Andy saw her hands tightening around the steering wheel, much like after their "highway fiasco" that left her prized and cherished Columbian manual export in shambles. "... Debatable."
"Swayin' in my favor enough to let her prance around freely tomorrow." He scoffed. "Besides, who else am I gonna entrust our newly acquired possession with? Who's as sharp as you, you whetstone?"
"I don't know if I'd call myself a "possession" per se, I was actually thinking this working environment would sort of start treating me as an actual employee instead of a 24/7 all around delivery boy with no–..."
"Have Exusiai school him, then." Texas sharply cut in. "Or Croissant. Croissant's more well rounded."
Andy dimmed somewhat at the mention of her name, awkwardly joined by Emperor's side eye. "Oh, um..."
"Yeaaah, that's not really…"
"Not really up for consideration, I think…"
"Yeah, somn' like that…"
"Why not?" Texas raised them both a brow. "She's competent enough. Values money. Might learn something from her this time around."
"..."
Andy and his employer exchanged a sourly skeptical glance. Swing the clock back a few hours, the three of them sat lazily in Emperor's office, buzzing beats booming around the lavish interior. He'd lazily flip an overflowing notebook, asking Andy for his "name, occupation, blah, blah, whatever" to sketch up something reminiscent of an employee profile. The boy would somewhat hesitantly answer each query sent his way, squinting and twitching from time to time to escape Texas' spreading cigarette smoke. And at some point of their "interrogation", Croissant had wandered into the room.
She swung the door open, dropped off a fat stack of papers at the penguin's desk and reported a "jawb well done." Andy sunk into his chair when she approached, trying his best to burrow into the ground as she stood there, next to him, paying the boy absolutely no mind. Her muddly green eyes have not, not even for a split second, graced his face with a glance. She knew he was there, and that was probably enough.
And then she began taking her leave.
She stretched lazily, yawned, and threw them a casual "Guess 'at's all 'fer t'night. G'night, y'all."
Texas quietly nodded, uttered a quick "night-night." Croissant responded with a smile.
Emperor waved her off, running his wings over the paper she provided. Croissant cheerfully tapped her fingers in tandem on the desk.
And Andy mustered all the strength Laterano had gifted him with, slid up in his chair and mewled a barely audible "Goodnight, Crossie."
And that's when she finally decided to give him even a sliver of attention.
At once, the booming music dimmed into the background, the flowing lava lamps stilled in fear; the ceiling fans froze in horror, leaving the room nearly entirely silent and dark. Texas perked curiously at the sight of her cigarette going out on its own, and Emperor rolled his shades off to check the sudden commotion.
And Croissant slowly, painfully haltingly, disdainfully gradually, turned to glare at Andy.
"... Do not call me 'at." She said, in a voice acidic enough to probably burn through a fair share of metals and alloys.
Andy curled in his seat, absolutely crushed and devastated beneath her freezing gaze - fleeting life, fleeting joy and fleeting motivation to go on like a flat tire. Had his right arm remained intact, he'd probably use it to cover, somehow shield himself from her sight. But no. But it wasn't there. But his innards, his fleshy, twitchy bowels were right there, on a silver platter for her to feast on. And she took full advantage of that, as he had once taken advantage of her. She stared at this pathetic display of nothing, this squirming worm wriggling beneath her sole. She stared at his vulnerability, she stared at him like she's never stared at anyone ever before. And that is, with pure, killing intent.
"... I'm s-sorry." He mumbled, almost entirely silent. He couldn't find it in himself to look at her anymore, so he averted his eyes. Croissant kept drilling into his skull for a few seconds more before taking her leave and storming off, shutting the door hard enough to send the hinges flying.
"..."
A dragging moment of uncomfortable silence passed between the three of them in the aftermath. Emperor whistled lowly, biting the bottom of his beak, while Texas seemed mostly unphased.
"... Damn." He murmured, before reaching over to pat Andy on the back. "Damn, damn, damn…"
.
"... Yeah, no." Back in the present, Andy and Emperor both shook their heads in silent agreement. "No, Croissant's out."
"..." Texas sighed, merging into the left lane without checking a single mirror but the front - to fix her bangs. "... Whatever. I'll school him tomorrow, and tomorrow only. We'll have a run through the basics."
"I think I know the basics of logistics." Andy somewhat confidently clambered up his seat. "All in all, the company might've been a total failure, but…"
"But it was a total failure, no matter which way you look at it, and we don't accept that kind of performance." She cut him off again, stopping the car along with the discussion. "... Now, out. I expect to see you here in five hours, at ten in the morning. Go, get some sleep."
"Safehouse already?" Emperor stretched, yawned, fixed his glasses. Andy's always found the habit of rocking sunglasses after dark to be a little pretentious, but it's been growing on him recently. "Guess that's that for the ass-kicking today. Drewie, door."
"Yup." Andy politely swung the door open, slithered out of the van and made space for his employer.
"Arlight, now c'mere." Emperor waddled to the edge of the seat, pointed down at the curb. "Kneel over here, make me fleshy set of stairs."
"...?" Andy shot him an asking look. "... What?"
"Kneel over here. Kneel, kneel, you know what kneel means? Get on your knees, let me hop on your back before I hit the concrete and break my legs."
"..."
Andy stared for a good minute or so, a little dumbfounded, a little taken aback.
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah? Yeah, I'm one serious businessman." Emperor crossed his wings. "I'm always serious. As serious as they come, and I'm a flightless motherfucker. I don't fly, I come. I come serious."
"..."
Andy began asking himself questions. Many of them revolved around his overall state of being, the road he's trotted through life and whether this, this particular moment, was truly everything it's all amounted to. All of them dissipated within moments, moments following the quick reminder that the penguin standing before him was also the one who would from now on be signing his paychecks.
"... Aye-aye, I guess."
Andy got down on his knees and kissed the concrete.
It felt cold. No wonder, it was a cold night after all. But the cold it brought couldn't necessarily have been marked simply as the "low temperature" kind of cold, no. It was a different kind. A much deeper, much more precisely striking and paralyzing sort of slow and freezing realization that from now on – this moment onward, he might as well have just signed his soul over to someone who'd use him as their personal flight of stairs. Andy sighed, tumbling on the floor.
"... Good enough?"
A disapproving click of the tongue came from above.
"Not even close. God, I expected some fightin' from you. Eye of the tiger type shit, not just… you know. Didn't expect the "Kazdel vet" to just fold instantly and start kissing the pavement."
"But you told me to…?"
"Yeah!" A soft thud followed as Emperor hopped to the ground. "And I expected you to call me out on my bullshit, Mr Top-Gun. I ain't here to point you around and tell you what to do and when to do it, yeah? Put some initiative in, man."
"..." Slowly, he gathered himself up, dusting his knees off. "... I guess I'm just used to Duflot's way of running things."
"And that's over. No more "Duflot" this, "Duflot" that." Emperor slapped him in the knee. "It's us and them from here onward, yeah? P.L. and Lungmen, and this is our turf. We run these ends."
"... And kneeling isn't allowed on these hallowed grounds, I assume?" Andy hopefully raised a brow, to which Emperor nodded.
"Yeah! This shit's like an ancient Sarkaz burial site, yeah? As sacred as they come, the Penguin Empire. You make people kneel here, not the other way 'round. Someone pipes up, what do you do?"
"..." Andy thought for a moment. What would Ricketts do? What would Reiff do, more importantly?
"... Deal with them?"
"Deal with them, how?"
"Fast and efficient?"
"Fast and efficient is Texas' job." He slammed the van door shut, pointed to the newly-welded-together Columbian muscle export passing them by with a mighty roar of its engine. "Your job's to make a show. Intimidation, the likes."
"Am I that intimidating?" He spun on his heel, took a deeper look into his gray and sad eyes in the van mirror's reflection. The mop of messy curls painted his face a sort of effeminate hue, and the nails in his halo only added to a certain, dragging form of constant pitifulness that hasn't really ever left him alone since he was born. All of that, and he hasn't even begun thinking about the purple bags under his lids yet… "... I don't see it."
"I mean, shit. I dunno." He shrugged. "You plant those guns of yours in some fool's face, I bet they're getting thoroughly intimidated. Hell, you stick the barrel far enough down their throat, they won't even notice those smoke-y little bags hangin' off ya eyes."
"Very assuring." Andy murmured, turning away from the mirror with a sigh.
"I'm a master of employee-employer relations." Emperor chuckled jovially, proudly boasting his whole thigh-height self. "PR game is on point every day of the week. Hell, it's so good I don't even need HR at the company."
"I guess I kinda see it…"
"Yeah." He slapped him on the back of his knee, but not hard enough to hurt. "And as your dutifully assigned company shrink, I'm ordering you to go and catch some shut-eye before your first shift. Don't want you all snoozy and glazey on your cherry-popping run."
"That's fair, yeah…" Andy blew a spit bubble in the wind, turning on a heel to scale the street's wide and reaching darkness. "See ya at ten, then?"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Emperor grumbled from a distance, already fiddling with the keys by the safehouse's door. "G'night, all that. Slay them bed-bugs or something."
"I will, hehe…" Andy thought to himself, smiling a little as his mind ran through the fruits of today's labor over and over. The prospect of a fresh start rang in a frequency that tickled his heart particularly fondly, sending warm waves of hopeful pleasure coursing all out and about. Up until he began walking back "home", at least.
He stopped in the middle of the street.
"... Hey? Hey, wait. Mr Emperor?"
"...?"
The penguin turned halfway through the slightly ajar door, watching Andy run right back up to his doorstep.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, so there's a slight problem." He huffed, heaving a little from the little jog. "... I don't really have anywhere to sleep tonight."
"What?"
"Yeah, I mean-, okay, so when the library burned down, – I mean, when the bikers torched it, I kinda of, um… I used to sleep in a little room in the attic, but I guess that's not really an option anymore."
"Huh." Emperor glanced at his flippers, took the beanie off. "... Nah, I guess it's not."
"Yeah, so I was wondering if I could, uh…" He wiggled his finger politely, aimed at the door. A hopefully pitiful smile bloomed on his face, reflected distortedly in the penguin's shades. "Maybe, um… You know, crash in there for a bit…?"
"Oh, uh…" He began, albeit a little awkwardly. "... Yeah, naw. Naw, I don't think that's a good idea. Y'know, it gets cold in there. Insulation is shit, the heating's even worse, and uh… and I'm not letting you sleep in my office. Too much expensive gear, too many millions of LMD in guitars hanging off the walls…"
"O-Oh…" Andy dimmed, slightly disappointed. "... But you don't have fingers, so how would you even play…?"
"I don't! I don't play. Player tip number one, NEVER play around." He winked stiffly, then slammed the door shut. "... See ya at ten, Top-Gun. Peace."
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"..."
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And Andy was left catching the early morning breeze.
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~7~
.
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Some time has passed. The nightly breeze managed to squeeze him dry of any warmth at this point, leaving the poor boy shivering and clinging to the flimsy loose sleeve of his jacket. Despite the orange sunset bleeding through the cracks in Lungmen's sky-high infrastructure, the giant star itself hasn't really started warming this part of Terra up yet. It felt cold, it feld humid, and it felt uncomfortable.
Still, he persistently climbed the few last steps, reaching the sixth floor.
Andy considered his possibilities beforehand, circling a few here's and here-snt's, crossing out the obvious flukes like Croissant or Lem, who he really, really did not want to see or talk to at the moment. The mere thought of matching her face to face, staring into her gleefully unfeeling and performatively constructed smile, brought him nearly to the point of a nauseating daze.
Anyhow, that left him with a miniscule handful of other choices. There was the thought of calling Dani and asking to crash for a day or two, and it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared, muffled beneath the memories of today's Harbor march. He wasn't so sure about the nature of their friendly relationship anymore, but the frown that persisted on the boy's face throughout today seemed a little too severe to be wiped with just a few apologies and a six pack of Victorian beer. He crumpled the topic up, shoved it into the bulging locker bravely titled "STUFF TO FIX."
A homeless shelter was out of the question. He wouldn't survive a day in there, his one-armed, easy-picked self. That, or he'd end up stabbing someone to death over bed space and get ran-through at an LGD precinct again.
So that left him with two options. Texas and Sora.
And Andy decided to pick the latter.
.
"..."
He stood in front of door number nineteen, six flights of stairs already behind him. Thank Law he remembered her address after the Nuffer fiasco.
Speaking of Nuffer, Andy has never really looked into the daily and private life of Lungmen's brightly gleaming show-biz stars, but his old military pal's house left quite the staggering impression, all in all. He never really imagined that an up-and-coming idol's lowly abode might seem as domestic and small as a flat in some dodgy apartment complex.
Still, he pushed on. Cracking his knuckles against the wall, chit-chattering with his clattering teeth, Andy put a fist over the wood and knock-knock-knocked.
Once.
To no avail.
Twice.
And the echoing thuds kept ringing.
Thrice.
Before a muffled wail arose from behind the door.
Andy stepped away at the sound of the juvenile interference, his mind running wildly with questions and concerts. Mainly about his memory of that night, whether he's truly heard her say she lived under number nineteen or not. Whether he had truly struck gold or just woken up someone's kid at five in the morning. Split between running and facing the wrath of whoever lived here head on, Andy gulped and straightened himself out. Knocking and ditching would be the cowards way, so he decided to persistently stand his ground and butt heads with whatever awaited inside.
The childish cries grew closer and closer, approaching with a lonely tumult of light footsteps. Light, but not light enough to be unnoticeable. Andy fixed his sweater, shoved the end of the loose sleeve in a pocket and coughed into his elbow.
And the door slowly split open.
"...?"
"...?"
Andy had to close his eyes at the sudden assault of brightness. His sleeve fell out the pocket when he reached for his face to cover himself.
"Woaaah…"
A squeaky mumble of awe flowed from the door, tickling his ears. Andy opened his eyes to meet the curious peepers of at least four pairs stumbling around at the height of his knees. A conjoined mess of ruffled blonde hair fluttered around the lower frame, poked through by inquisitive wagging, pointy Cautus ears. Bunny ears, some would've said.
Andy stared incredulously at the children gawking right at him, their mouths wide agape in mind-blown wonder. One of the little rascals raised his little hand and pointed at the loose sleeve.
"That man's missing a hand!"
All the other children followed with a loud "Woaaah" again, seemingly having already completely forgotten about crying.
"I'm, um…" Andy awkwardly tucked the sleeve back in, feeling a little red warmth creeping up his cheeks. "It's rude to point it out, okay?"
"You know what else is rude?"
A rougher voice sleepily mumbled from somewhere around his eye level. Andy slid his eyes away from the kids, finding a pair of bathrobe-clad legs and travelling up the soft, femme figure until her clouds of golden locks were all that he could see. That, and the purple bags hanging from her eyelids, matching his equally in intensity.
"... Waking people up at five in the morning." The woman finished, her Cautus ears drooping tiredly, flopping back and forth. "What do you want, mister?"
In her arms, she carried a bundled little ray of sunshine, suckling on a pacifier eagerly and earnestly digging their tiny little peepers into Andy. He blinked a few times, completely taken off-course by the whole situation.
"I'm… sorry?" He began stumbling over syllables. "I was, um… I was looking for a friend's apartment, but I think I, uh… I think I had the wrong door number."
"Oh, yea-..." The woman yawned lazily, and all her kids immediately followed suit. "... Oh yeah? So you just go knocking at random people's doors in the middle of the night instead of calling them to verify?"
Her annoyance was completely justified, Andy knew that. He just found it a little amusing how tired she seemed. Tired enough not to yell at him, even.
"I should've, I'm sorry." He bowed politely with a quiet rattle of nails. "But since I've already woken you, miss, maybe you'd help me?"
"Help with what?" She raised a sceptical brow. "Finding your friend's apartment? I've just recently moved in myself, so don't expect me to know every single tenant here. Or, well." She straightened herself out, rubbed her eyes. "... Technically, my daughter moved us all in here."
"Oh, did she?" Andy perked up, trying his best to seem interested not to annoy her further. "The whole apartment? She bought everything?"
"Everything, anything you see." The woman's lips tugged into a smile, the pride brought by her daughter's career seemingly pushing out the anger dusted up by Andy's late intrusion. "... Ah, the music industry, you know. Some say it's a waste of time, others tell you to get a real job. But I never really urged her into any accountant positions or- or doctorates, and look where she's now. Moving her old woman into a proper flat with her first bigger paycheck."
"Uh-... Uh-huh…" Andy picked her words bone-clean of relevant information. "Music industry, yeah?"
"Yeah… It's a double edged sword, apparently." She sighed, cradling the bundled infant and swaying it from left to right while all the other children peeked curiously from behind her legs. "Shady stuff goes on behind all the flashy stage lights and pretty decorations. And it's really difficult to make it too, you know? It takes time, time, time… a lot of time. And luck!" She finished with a scoff. "Tons of luck. Sometimes when I watch TV I look up at the sky and I ask "why would someone so stupid be allowed on national television?" And then I think about it some more, and I get my answer - Luck."
"Uh-huh…"
"... And I guess my Hanna's getting there somewhat. Not with luck, mind you, not with luck. With hard work and dedication, that's what it is. She even had a whole "label" "sign" her and all that funny business. She's definitely got her niche."
"Well, that's nice to hear." Andy leaned against the doorframe. "... And, pray tell, does this "Hanna" work under an alias?"
"Alias, alias…" The woman burrowed her brows, deep in thought. "... I guess she's mentioned something about "codenames?" Something about confidentiality and the "preservation of a private life," yes."
"..." He smiled hopefully. "... And would it happen to be "Sora?"
"Sora, Sora, Sora… Sora, yes. Yes! Yes, exactly that." She smiled as well, then dimmed in an instant and poked him aggressively in the rib. "Hey! And what're you, huh? Are you one of those deranged stalker-fans? Were you following her home? Is that it? You–... How DARE you show up at my address at five in the morning, you fiend? How–..."
"N-No, that's…" Andy barely managed to fight off the poking offense, slowly backing away with his only hand raised. "I'm a friend from work! We work together!"
"You work together?" The woman raised a disbelieving brow, her hand still raised and ready to strike at any time. "... With Hanna? You two work together?"
"Yes!" His head rapidly nodded. "At Penguin Logistics, yes?"
"..." Sora's mother withdrew into her flat, the disdain and anger in her face dying gradually. "... Yeah. Yeah, I guess she did mention some logistics firm."
"So, could I, um…" Andy slowly inched closer, innocently nudging his thumb towards the inside.
"Come inside?" Her eyebrows shot up. "Absolutely not."
"Oh, no, that's not what I meant." He blushed with warm embarrassment, slumping forward. "... I meant, talk to her. It's a bit of an, um… It's an emergency."
"..." She sized him from head to toe a few more times, and Andy mustered his most disarming puppy-dog eyes. Deeming him harmless enough, she sighed and turned towards the flat. "HAAAAAANNAAAA!"
The intensity and volume of her shout shook the boy to the very core, leaving him thoroughly surprised by just how loud a person could scream with their door open at five am.
"..."
Still, in the wake of the echo, he smiled as hard as he could to let his teeth speak for his innocence. The woman stared at him from above, split between shutting the door and letting him near her daughter. It dragged on for a while, until a rumble of quick rummaging and a few doors shifting could be heard from inside.
"... What?" A familiar voice grumbled groggily from behind her shoulders.
"Guest."
"Guest…?" Sora dragged herself to the door, eyes all glazed over, her usual idol attire replaced with nothing but a monstrously oversized tee that devoured her frame whole. "... Oh, guest! Andy. Hi, Andy."
"Hi, Sora." Andy waved politely, nervously glancing at her mother. "... We know each other, right?"
"What?"
"We know each other, yeah? Like, we're work-buddies. Right?"
"Yeah…?" Sora yaaaaaawned, turning to the other woman. Having them two side by side, Andy could finally begin connecting the dots and drawing matching parallels. The hair matched, the faces were pretty much the same, save for some notched marks of time. Mannerisms were on point, and the distinct Cautus ears springing from both their heads were near identical. Andy has always thought she was a Lupo, though. A wolf, not a bunny. "... Thanks, mom, I'll just, uh… I can handle this myself. Thanks."
"Mhm…" Slowly, deliberately, she withdrew her eyes from Andy. They've been there, scanning him constantly ever since the girl's appearance. He bobbed a tiny little awkward curtsy and blurted a quick chuckle, which eventually must've made her relent. "... Don't stay up too late, then. And goodnight, "Andy."
"Night-night, miss." Andy waved her a very polite goodbye, watching her and all of Sora's supposed siblings disappear into the bright corridor. The two of them waited for a good few moments, listening carefully until the muffled thuds of their steps dissipated into still silence.
"..."
Andy blinked.
Sora blinked, a bit more sluggish than him.
"... The hell are you doing here…?" She asked, but Andy was already poking her ears with a finger. "Ow?"
"How'd you manage those? Like– Like, what's up with these?" He lifted one up, curiously watching it flop back down to her side. "I thought you were a Lupo?"
"Surprise, I guess?" She tilted her head, gently reaching to pry his fingers off her fluffy ears. "Can you stop that? Congrats, you caught me out of uniform, but can you not?"
"Yeah, yeah, sorry." Andy quietly chuckled, watching her carefully brush them back with her hair. "... Hanna."
"..." Sora shot him an unamused look worthy of Texas. "Very funny."
"It's a pretty nice name, though?"
"Yeah? I'm not saying it's not, but I go by "Sora" for a reason, you know?"
"What reason?"
"So that people don't show up on my doorstep at five in the morning?" She sighed wearily. Andy's been noticing on and off ever since their Nuffer-related adventure that Sora's initial "shine" and naively innocent "glow" has been dimming. "... Whaddya want, anyway? Something important?"
"Kind of." He threw a thumb back, hoping to aim it in the library's general direction. "Bikers torched my house and I'm kinda homeless at the moment. So I was wondering if…"
"Oooh… Oh, oooh …" She bit her bottom lip, drew a sharp breath of air. "Ooooh, that's pretty bad…"
"Yeah…"
"I'm not really, um… You know." Sora awkwardly pranced around the doorframe, moving her hands back and forth to gesture around the interior. "... I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's a bit packed in here, you know? As much as I'd love to help you, of course."
"Yeah, no, I kind-of expected that." Andy tried to sound as reassuring as possible without letting the disappointment ring out. "Your mom seems nice, though. Off-topic."
"I think she might've really taken a liking to you actually." Sora prepped her hands on her hips, glancing around the corridor. "Like, a lot. A big liking."
"Really?"
"Yeah? Couldn't you tell from the death-glare?"
"It might've slipped me."
Her lips twisted into a little smile and the two of them shared a quiet chuckle.
.
"... But really, is there nowhere else you can go?" She picked up after a while, her eyes growing more concerned with each word. "Like-... Exusiai? Croissant, or-, or…"
"Yeah, I, um… I tried those two already." Andy awkwardly smiled, twitching with a cold shiver at the mere mention of the latter. "No-go, both cases."
"Aw…" Sora tilted her head in pity, her eyes flickering between the round of nails in his halo and his wavering smirk. "... Look, I'd love to give you a couch to crash on. You know I would."
"Yeah, I know…"
"But there just isn't, like… like, space. A place for one more person, in general. We'd be packed like store-bought finballs."
"I wouldn't wanna intrude, anyway." Andy flicked his hand nonchalantly. "... I'm already waking your whole family at five in the morning, already pissing off your mom. Guess I got lucky it wasn't your dad at the door, huh?"
He snickered at his little attempt, but Sora didn't seem to share the sentiment. Her ears flopped to her sides, smile dissipated into nothing.
"... I don't think you'd ever meet him at this door." She mumbled quietly.
"..."
Andy flushed with red, then immediately turned a pallid shade of pale.
"... Oh."
"..."
"... I'm sorry."
"Don't mention." Sora hit him in the arm with a weak smile. "... At least I'm not the homeless one between the two of us, right?"
"Yeah, exactly." He played along happily, opting to omit the topic of his own lack of a father, or even a mother for that matter.
"But I can still help fix you up, I guess…" She grumbled, yawned again, then reached for a hoodie hanging off a rack by the door. "... You sure you've tried everyone else you know already? Any… Any, I dunno, external friends? Family?"
"Not in Lungmen, no." Andy shook his head, remembering how even in Laterano he had his own spot waiting for him at the graveyard. "And I've already thought of everyone outside of P.L."
"And inside?" Her muffled voice asked from beneath the hoodie over her head, as she wrestled with the sleeves.
"Inside?"
Andy thought about it for a moment.
"... Lem, C-... Croissant, Emperor, You, and…"
"..."
"... And?" She fixed the brim, wiped the crust from her eyelids and tucked in the hood.
"... And I haven't tried Texas yet." He finished, quietly. Staring blankly ahead. Thinking. Fearing. Paralyzed with fright. Quivering at the mental image of even DARING to ask Texas for a couch to crash on.
"Yeah~! Perfect." Sora beamed happily, sparkled with glee. After sliding on a pair of overly baggy cargos that made her look like just about anyone still outside at this ungodly hour, she stepped outside and locked the door. "... Let's pay her a visit, then."
"Wh-, Why?" Andy froze at the realization of what was about to transpire. "Wh-... Hey!"
But Sora only grabbed him by the hand and began tugging down the spiraling staircase.
.
"Why?" She cheerfully threw past her shoulder, sliding down the railing.
.
"To introduce her to her new roomie, duh!"
.