Chapter Text

Who are you?

A chime was heard around the bustling room. The outside rain thundering its grace until the door creaked shut. The lone figure glanced at the area. His face, although subjected to darkness, bore a mystic allurement. The room glowed with neon lights. The metallic bar on the far right contained bottles of filth on the shelves, the waiter peacefully attending to his cleaning duties. Booming voices screamed and cheered as they hungrily watched the striper take off their top. Money zooming through the air as a congratulating tip. The place was a gold mine for bounty hunters seeming as very wanted criminals crawled every nook and cranny. The cloaked man pulled out a toothpick from his front pocket. The high-quality fabric soaked to the bone. He had business.

He took note of the strange shadow near the far corner, his 6th sense on high alert. Deal with it later.

He finally sauntered over to the bar, catching a few prying eyes. Most of them ignored him, others made sure they had ammo. The man smirked under his hood. Bartender guy finally glanced from his current position, The cloaked man was surprised to see the bartender had an uncanny sword collection near the far corner alongside some groovy shades. Very groovy. Very shady.

The guy sighed as he placed away the drink aside. Wiping his hands with a white towel, He grumbled something under his breath and finally, he placed his attention on the cloaked figure. It's getting tiring being called the cloaked man. What IS your name?

¨Alright let's cut to the fucking chase ya brick wall, come into my bar n´ wet the floor without even putting yer coat on the COAT hanger? What business ya got you cunt?¨ he blurted out.

Well then.

He didn't think this through.

Raising a brow, the man quirked his lips. A little feeling of guilt washing over him.

¨Sorry about that! Haha, I'm just passing through from the town over.¨ He perched down on the stool, although, The bartender scoffed, a disapproving move coming from his stone cold face. ¨So I was guessing that possibly you could tell me about...The Gooey Hitler Bologna?¨

In a flash, a sword nearly maimed his neck. Quickly rising from his sitting position he arched backward, a breeze flew by.

Everything happened pretty fast.

In the few seconds after he had asked the question Bar guy had enough time to seize a sword from the pile, His movements faster than anything he's ever witnessed. The man already understood he was going to do something, impale his throat? A possibility. Maybe even skewer his dong from the hidden hole under the table.
Cloak man grabbed the toothpick he held in his teeth. Who even had toothpicks in their mouths 3,000 years in the future? Cloak man did. He grazed his fingers amongst the slick wood, quickly pressing a microscopic button near the edge. Only a few seconds before he would be presumably killed by the guy, a large War hammer developed from the small meat picking device he was chewing on a few seconds ago. It formed faster than the man luckily, machines humming in harmony as they eventually locked into the Badass weapon he's known to crush people with.

A loud clash bounced off the walls. The junkies that were currently sucking each others faces stopped. The stripper, who was currently being harassed by a pirate took advantage of the sudden silence and ran away.

The sword that the bartender was holding only hardened its grip. His facial features struck with a small hint of surprise. Underneath you could see strong rippling muscles flexing under the weight of your hammer.

¨ Awe jeez did you literally have to do that! I thought we had a special bonding moment.¨

¨Who are you?¨

¨I'm a cloaked man!¨

¨Don't start actin' dumb on me.¨

The cloaked man sighed squinting his eyes.

¨Only if you drop your long knife.¨

The barkeeper seethed with a stone cold annoyance.

¨It ain't no long fucking knife ya cunt.¨

¨Well whatever it is drop it, dude! my arms getting cramps.¨

It took a moment, maybe a while, before the barkeeper lowered his sword. Not caring for it as much as he desired to know the man's name.

¨Alright, name.¨

The cloaked man hunched down a little bit, picking up the toppled stool.

¨What's yours?¨

At this, the entire place went back to its wild disorder. Although some took in the comfort of producing their weapons out.

The barkeeper crossed his arms. Waiting as the man sat himself down. The cloaked man grinned reaching his arms out to grasp his hood. Slowly, almost playfully, he unveiled his face.

The Barkeeper had the most curious expression yet.

Underneath the hood, there occupied a man near his twenties with the smuggest, large buck toothed handsome smirk he could muster. His friendly ocean eyes flashed with mischief and delight. His tan skin complimented the wild haircut he was rocking, and the glasses he had matched the whole look. He was surprisingly good-looking, REALLY good looking. Smart too, a smartass.

The barkeeper grabbed the cup he once put to the side and continued drying it.

The Tombs Tavern. An ancient bar that was remarkably old even for this day and age. Frequently known for its drinks and offenders, people would drink their asses off. Fights appeared here and there, often just the crooks fighting over bills they stole. Sometimes it resided people who paid fair. It's landmark being how hidden it was. Almost a myth.

¨The name is Brook Strider, People call me Bro though.” He sighed storing away the cup.

The cloaked man's smirk widened.

¨My name is John Egbert. As I was saying id like to know where The GHB is,¨ John told intertwining his fingers. ¨Im being chased by the Imperial Drones and they should be here in about 20 minutes, it would've been 40 if you didn't try to kill me just now!¨

These days have been impossibly draining with how much he's been rushing around like a headless chicken. Day after day after day after day, morning and night- even when the sexy times were happening he had to buckle his pants up before he was disintegrated by the red metallic hardasses.

John was set out on a mission, after all, he didn't want to be executed by the drones just yet, maybe a little bit after this whole ordeal was done he'd turn himself in. The executions were extremely brutal in N.E.O. Texas. Hed have fun wondering what they'd do to him. He was working against the government after all.

¨And why, in the good name of fuckin christ, do you want to know that crazy motherfucker's location?¨ Asked Bro. His triangular shades glinting in the harsh neon pink light.

Johns reply was quicker than any fight he's ended in his whole life. Faster than any nut he's busted, quicker than any hit he's blocked. It surprised both him and Bro.

¨Im planning killing him on sight,¨ He answered, taking a sip of the abandoned alcohol that lay close to him. ¨not fast of course, but y know I'm going to kidnap him after I find him.¨

Bro pursed his lips with a tight hum. It looks like he was thinking over your plan.
Considering how brutal and straightforward it was you'd expect him to absolutely kill you on the spot. Many have attempted doing just that. You have an impressive bounty on your head. But either way, it didn't seem to alarm him that he just let a (probably) psycho into his corporation.

¨ya got quite the balls showing up and sayin' his name like it's some fuckin playground up in this bitch, but I might as well tell ya because I sure as hell know ya ain't gonna leave this tavern empty (you stopped here) handed.¨ Bro exclaimed. He roughly scratched his stubble musing over something before eventually grasping a notebook from under the bar. ¨I don't need no more dead bodies pilin' up near my place¨ he barked.

Johns back pocket buzzed, seems like one of the monitors sollux provided him is detecting drone movement close. It was a detector, GPS, and a tracker all in a tiny button. It buzzed once more, Shit, he was running out of time.

¨Hey Broski, could you maybe hurry it up a bit? I don't feel like dying today.¨ You urge, glancing at bros hand as it wrote what looked like an address. ¨You know we might've been friends if I had the time.¨ You inquire, Bro finally finished whatever he was writing on the paper and handed it to John roughly. ¨When that happens remind me to kill you, ya owe me a new carpet.¨

If you study closely you might even see a small, a very little and microscopic grin on the Texan man's face- Bro, you remember his name for later uses.

¨shit ain't cheap, now scram fore I slice ya up¨

Your phone starts droning like crazy.

You sigh, finally rising up from your comfy position.

¨그림자 인에게 인사 하렴!¨ You hurriedly excused yourself as a loud thunder was heard outside. Your clothes cling to you like leeches, something you haven't seen in ages, and swiftly made your way to the front door. You already packed your massive hammer into its miniature tooth picking beauty. Bro cussed for the 12th time that night as he whipped out a mop from the back room. Grumbling how he'd bolt the door with the chains of prospit children. You smell like a wet dog.

You finally step out into the horrid rain, Hood covering your head and shadows blemishing your face. Paper so tight in your hold you feel nothing in it. It's time you think, time to get the fuck away from here and get that lowlife Juggalo motherfucker.

A shot darted past your ear. Taking a piece off your earlobe.

Fuck, what the fuck! You clench your ear as blood spurts out. That fucking earlobe had your piercings!

You run down the alleyway near The Tavern, a sharp left as yet another shot nearly blows your head. Your eyes are semi-blocked by the water, large glowing buildings loaded with neon signs help you navigate the path. You hear drones nearby.

At this point, you could use your GPnavatracker as a vibrator, Bleh.

Looks like you miss calculated the amount of time you had left. It's not like you're good at math, only biology and to an extent Excessive body training under the watch of Colonel Sassacre's Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery. A book you haven't read in eons due to studying it over and over again as your methods of killing time in deep caves when drones soared too near your usual sleeping quarters.

A loud-mouthed cackle is heard, practically shrieking in joy. You know that voice, it's practically ingrained in your brain. It sounds Robotic with a bad mix of autotune.

NEO Redglare.

A.k.a Terezi Pyrope A.k.a The ¨the judge, jury and justified bitch of your end.¨

You two have an interesting history.

She abruptly comes down from a building in front of you, riding what seems to be a large semi-robotic reptile. Its white scales and blood red eyes gazing into your soul. It bares its teeth. You bare your weapon.

She certainly hasn't changed throughout the years.

Your heart is throbbing in your ears. The rain seems to be getting harder. Your body temperature drops by the hour.

She finally speaks, after what you reckon has been a few minutes, and that god awful voice vibrates throughout the walls.

¨H3H3, N1C3 TO S33 YOU 3GB3RT.¨ She titters, You're very stressed out. Usually, you don't get stressed. Stress.

¨You can't see Terezi,¨ You mutter, she smiles in return. ¨But I need to be somewhere else, maybe you could kill me some other time!¨ The rain seems to be becoming impossibly harder than it already is. Your phone is still vibrating like crazy. The clocks ticking. You don't have time.

¨4LW4YS 1N 4 RUSH, I C4N SM3LL F34R.¨ She cackles hopping off her lizard- robot thing. ¨TH3 ONLY TH1NG TH4T W1LL BE H34D1NG,¨ She reaches for her sword.

¨1S YOUR H43D.¨

You really should've brought an umbrella.

Ye4rs 1nto th3 past, but not many…

The sun shone with glaring rage, its orange and red hue coloring the sky. The wind resistant to any humidity. A lone figure walks amongst the heated plains. Sweat flying down the sharp jaw of the stranger. The cloaked man paced with rage, Nonetheless, he marched on.

His shoes were old and dusted, years of unending use. His back muscles tensed with knots. Backpack filled to the brim with heavy gadgets and a limited supply of food. His white shirt stained blood, from those he's killed. Pants sagged, without a buckle. His face tired, Days on end without sleep.

John seethed with impeccable wrath. Vision stretching as far as the eyes can see. His mindset with one purpose, one he promised to keep. Such anger was distant to his personality, faded to his deepest darkest heart. Anger was an uncommon trait to his lineage. His tree was known for kindness. Yet he trudges with a hatred burning strong.

He pauses for a moment, gazing about his surroundings for any threats, before reluctantly, and although hurriedly, lugging his backpack towards the sandy floor. He knew he had to be quick. They were still chasing after him.

He dropped to his knees and opened the first zipper. The sand scorching his skin raw, hell have splinters and bruised skin once he reached his destination.

¨three thousand nine hundred and fifty-two multiplied by six thousand eight hundred and ninety-one equals this stupid thingamajig...¨ You complain. You need to keep yourself sane in this wasteland. You consulted a long time friend for sanity keeping workouts, He advised math equations. This fucking heat is going to cook you inside out. You don't have time for equations.

Finally, after rummaging through your endless bag you scuffle out a pea-sized pellet. You roll your eyes after rolling it around your palm, It's piercing yellow and orange appearance gives you major tickies. You still can't believe you shrink an object the size of an elephant here.

¨Stupid dumb freaking dessert and it's hot as shit sun, jeez wheeze can it chill out.¨

You grab a water bottle that was thankfully within reach and uncap it. You take a long swig before pouring some on your face. OH god, you can feel the water soaking in, bless water, man. This reminds you of that time in the Mad Max movie when people get the first taste of water. A breeze kicks by. It tickles your chin, your eyes widen for a second. You quickly pat your face, feeling hair around your entire lower half. Holy shit John you grew a fucking beard. For once you laugh, Feeling immense pride well up inside you. You've become a full-fledged barbarian lumberjack, the manliest of men. Maybe you could flex your sleeves off in cataclysmic rage.

You relish in your newfound beard for a couple of minutes. Doing a half-assed victory dance on the floor like an idiot.

Your name is John Egbert- Yes John Egbert. The famous man who killed Meenah Peixes. Who you didn't actually kill. Gosh, it sucks being related to her, now the whole country is after your ass! She totally framed you after that… Incident with your dad.

Your name is John Egbert, And your mission is to actually kill Meenah Peixes, A.K.A. The Condesce A.k.a ¨T)(-E rul-Er, T)(-E qu-E-En, and your Rich ass hitl-Er granny.¨

The first thing you have in mind after bringing her to her dusty knees is to say these exact words.

¨Suck my big fat cock you old bakedbitch!¨ and quickly impale her. After that, you really don't know what to do. The drones might capture you and torture you till your old and fat, you don't really care. Victory will be sweeter than her plastic quick mix batter.

You chuckle for a bit, before reminding yourself that you need to get your hoverbike.

This process really tickles your dick. It's actually really simple and ultra convenient if you put your mind to it. You take the shrunken object, get some water, and pour over it. The thing will then suck everything up, and it'll grow fast- like really, really fast. It's like the ancient toys you've seen at the dollar stores. The grow animals. Man, your dad used to buy you cartloads of them!

You place the pill on the sand and drop some water on it, this takes some time. The pill immediately soaks up all of the water. Leaving no trace of Liquid, You feel like that pill. Thirsty as hell. Once you hit the nearest city you're going to buy a whole bunch of water bottles with the loaded bank accounts your family has. Obviously using your great great grandmas' fuschia credit card with the hot pink diamonds bedazzled across the front.

Instantly the hoverbike whirs to life, sprouting slowly from its enclosure. Metal clangs against metal as it forms its shape, what was once a small coin-sized pill transforms into a large vehicle. The head of it comes out first, interlocking with the neck of the bike. Platforms secure it to place as it continues panning down. Soon the wheels come out, and then the chair. Engines, steering, handles, and the small rear view mirrors materialize in place. You find yourself staring in awe, It still amazes you till this day.

“Cloak man Barbarian Lumberjack dude who rides a freaking hoverbike, the baddest of the asses.” You holler. “Let's get this show on the road!”

Before you stands the latest and greatest model of bikes you could buy, its sleek black figure giving it a mystifying look. There's a dull stripe of blue on the sides, they swirl around like the wind. Your family symbol. The wheels aren't even wheels, not for a long time. Wheels stopped being issued long ago. Now the only thing transportation has is levitating hover platforms that secure tightly to the vehicle. You know jackshit about cars and other moving things, you just know they need to run on a tank for it to be useful.

You walk over in pride, she looks so dang beautiful. You take care of her like she's your own daughter. You stop and mount yourself. Your whole body relaxes for what it seems like years. You've been walking for about three weeks with limited resting time. Making tents and then destroying them. Sometimes you leave them for lost travelers to sleep in. Other more fun times you leave notes inside knowing that the drones will have a fit reading them to Your grandmother. “you stink like shit! :D” and “haha you can't catch me with your boney legs!” being your most recent ones. You can't wait to tell her about your newfound beard. “Hey! i grew a beard, im going to kill you though. Like a lumber jack in the movie Tucker and Dale vs evil starring Tyler Labine!!”

You place your hand on the control panel of your hoverbike. it suddenly rumbles to life and the faded blue lines across your bike swiftly glow a blue shade. the engine roars, and you feel the vibrations flow across your body. you're happy that you can finally ride your dear Casey. This is by far your most prized possession other than your hammers and your great great great grandfather's credit cards. You straighten your back and lean forward and you Slam down on the pedal. Your whole body and your hoverbike move forward. Sand dunes from miles away fade into blurs, the wind rushes with your body. The heat suddenly leaving you as a cool wind caresses your dry build. Your name is John Egbert, and you are having the time of your life.

It took you some time to perfect riding this beauty until you found out it's like riding the pogo ghost thing you had when you were little- Minus the constant moving.

Chapter Text

-2-

Bounty for the man

Sand dunes flashed across your field of vision. Large temples once full of life crumbling by the minute would appear once and a while. Your grip tight end on the steering wheel, stepping on the peddle. The hoverbike roars to life and the speed increases tenfold. The breeze licks against your hair, hood thrown back long ago. You've been riding your bike for about three hours now, the small GPS on your bike indicating you are fifty miles away from derse, the city that never sleeps.

You start to feel sleepy, so you yawn yet again.

_________________________________

A kick to the gut brings you back, all air leaves your lungs.

Redglare shuffles back, her dragon sword raised in a defensive position. Her legs are crouched, her head is facing up- Your breath is stifling. For how short she is, she could pack the punch.

The silence is thick, no words are uttered. The only noise is your ragged shallow breathing. You were thinking about something that happened a while back. She got the first blow- You aren't in the mood to fight.

Your eyes watch as they follow her gloved hand. She reaches something from her back pocket. He shuffles for a bit, you just watch.

She finally speaks.

“1LL h4V3 TH3 F4T3S D3C1D3 W3TH3R OR NOT YOU D3S3RV3 TO L34V3 UNSC4TH3D JOHN.” She shouts over the rain, nudging her head to her palm. You follow her gaze, she's holding a coin. This is the third time she's done this quarter trick, last time you escaped before she could even capture you. She somehow found you in the middle of sleeping with a stranger for some info on where Brooks tavern was- right in the middle of you almost finishing she crashed through the window, a tight grin as the person stared in shock, screaming their lungs off. You ran with an address, but at a cost of you absconding with a blanket over your dong and your backpack half falling over your shoulder.

You roll your eyes, “Terezi c'mon give me a break. For once can't you just leave me alone without following me like a creep- wait are you working for my granny? Not cool dude, tell her to lay off if she's behind this.” Surely batterwitch was behind all this. Last time you were outside you had been eating a baloney sandwich with extra mayo, just as you were finishing an assassin had nearly chopped your head off.

Her grin falters and she looks annoyed, “This is critical and none of your concern if your grandmother is behind this,” She pauses for a second, fondling the coin “But I will tell you, 1F YOU H4V3 TH3 B3TT3R 3ND OF TH3 ST1CK.” She cackles.

You think about it for a minute, it's not like you really have a choice.

“Sure,” you flash a daring smile “But if I get tails you give me head?”

Terezi grimaced a look of disgust on her grey complexion. You've grown to be the flirty type you've noticed. Always running around and winging it. Not one of your strongest traits- in fact, you think being a flirt has to be the lowest value (if you can even call it that) you have. You tend to flirt when confronted with dangerous situations as a one-way escape route.

She metaphorically rolls her eyes, from what you can tell, and finally flips the coin.

The coin of coins, the guillotine that will soon slice your head open if luck decided. Many things have been related to heads lately. A coincidence you may inquire. Such a coincidence is fate. You have the right mind to be babbling about unnecessary bullshit at a time like this. You think you deserve this contemplative second, today has been a busy ruffle of feathers, as the coin flips- time slows down by the minute. You've been talking about time too, for some reason. But back on the topic- You think you need a breather. Your earlobe is spitting out blood like there's no tomorrow, a shot that fucking blew off a chunk of it. And you might catch a severe case of hypothermia if you and Terezi keep dancing around the rain like a bunch of chickens just because she wants to be the judge. Dear John, what would nanna ever say to you?

The coin thuds against the concrete floor. Both you and Terezi watch as it rolls around, a dance of heat. You pretend like it's watching a horse race from the past, two people betting on different horses. The horses being whether you live or die.

It slows down, it twirls back and forth. It finally flops.

Heads.

You lean back in relief, your back pops and cracks and some tension leaves your body. Looks like you don't have to break a leg!

You watch as she squats down to retrieve her murder object, and looks at it fondly. You never understood her, one day she would save you from a smuggling deal, and the next she'd try to dislodge your rib cage singing Elvis Presley remixes.

Even if the coin landed tails you would have escaped clean cut. Using everything you considered a weapon as your defense. The Warhammer passed down generations to you. Your father was an excellent rebellion fighter and part-time father.

“It was partially her.”

You squint your eyes.

“What?”

She speaks again, done putting away her dumb coin. She makes her way to her Dragon-lizard-robot and looks you straight in the eye.

“The Peixes family have been contacting me lately for some information on your whereabouts,” she says, “it's not just them though, John,” Her neverending smile fading for a frown “The Amporas are getting involved too- both are getting into something big. I don't even think it's about finding you john, it's forming into something more. Something out of my league, but for what I know it has something to do with you.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, The Amporas? The fish stinking so-called trillionaires that deal with the docks and fair trades- are getting involved with your gran granma? They haven't done a deal since the first enigmatic terrorist scandal back in late 4002. And something about them getting into something big?

You question her just as she's about to leave,

“Justice doesn't have a side idiot, all are guilty unless proven otherwise.” grin returning to its egotistical owner “Also, I like playing cards, what's the fun in having a deck when you can play sides?”

You smile right back at her, a sigh leaving your nostrils. Terezi Pyrope, you'll never understand her.

____________________________

The streets are glowing harder with the added water, puddles are forming here and there. You pass a shop that unbelievably sells live kaiju specimen. You retrace your steps, staring eye to eye with the eyeball of a possible giant, it's easily three times your height, stored in a tank right outside for all to see. The thing bobs up and down, the lights from the store giving it an eerie glow. The last time you've seen a kaiju this up close was when you preordered that kaiju stomach acid for fuel but instead got a bomb inside the package with the note “I'm Gonna Krill you lil gup 38)” neatly written outside the box.
You jump back as the kaiju eye blinks, you find yourself walking again, far away from that thing.

The pavement thuds against your worn out yellow boots. Coat no longer a help and your body slowly hitting hypothermia levels. Your teeth clatter, the hand that's currently clutching your body shivering intensely. For Texas, this is fairly unexpected. Being someone from Washington you should be used to the cold, you gaze to the side. This just proves how long ago things were.

You finally make it to… You analyze the place that's before you. Its nestled in between two buildings… Both apartments are nearly crumbling, weed and multiple drugs are lingering in the air. The window near the door is broken and you spot some sort of light peeking out. You guess its a TV. A crash is heard from the fourth floor of the 20 story apartment, suddenly the window is smashed and out falls a suitcase comically stuffed with men's clothes. You step away from the stray glass shards that fall.

“And don't come back you fucking piece of shit!” a voice hollers. The door in front of you slams open and a lanky tall figure sprints out.

This place, you think, is a biohazard filled with lunatics.

You look up at the sign that reads “Kimven llumej’s Apartments” in neon red. Some of the letters dulled out so instead, it spells “Kill me Apartments” which you don't know if you should take it as a warning or as a coincidence.

You walk up the steps and the automatic doors slowly open. You spot the cashier, a medium sized troll with curved horns looks boredly at their phone, and begin to speed walk.

She deliberately looks away from her phone. You slide two grand, she lazily scans you and snatches it from your grip. “Toough oone tooday, eh?” And she zones back to her phone. A key is placed in your waiting palm, she points to the farthest door to the right.

The place is a fucking dump, the walls are peeling and the ceiling is withered. You walk down the hall and spot mold building in the corner. A mutated cat is snuggled next to a vandalized painting of the Mona Lisa. She has nipples drawn on and her whole face is littered with stains, you scrunch your nose, something you don't even wanna know what it is, and obscene shapes. You would have laughed at this if it weren't for the whole place being shitty.

You finally make it to your room, ignore how crusty the door looks and unlock it.

The room is small, smelly, and cold. Its neat, so you give some pointers. But all in all, you would burn this place down.

You take a deep breath and exhale. Your bones ache with such intensity that you just might faint from tiredness.
You're really confused about what you should do now. All this time running around has you on your feet, but…

You glance at the bed.

It wouldn't kill you to sleep for once, probably.

But before that, you need to take a nice long look at yourself in the mirror, take off your wet clothes, and deal with the severe case of hypothermia that will possibly put you in a comma.

You kick off your boots, not feeling your toes at all, and drag your body to the bathroom. The rug feels bumpy under your socks, you leave those on. You turn on the lights, a medium sized space invites you in. The walls are an ugly dark green color, a small toilet with a sign that reads ‘if a frog leg grabs you, please scream.’ is taped in bold black letters at the very top of the lid. The shower, something you don't even dare look inside of, has blurred out duck print with brown stains dead center. The sink is nice though- the person looking back at you isn't.

You look horrible, your tan skin has at least paled ten shades, your previously shaved beard has started growing back, and your hair is dripping wet. Not to mention those horrendous eyebags. Your glasses are halfway down your face, your mouth is halfway down the floor, and your body is halfway through the 5 stages of grief. You're surprised the person at the front didn't have the balls to call the cops on you.

“Ooh man, oh my god-” you say, your voice is sandpaper in your throat and you notice the shivering stutters that jump here and there, “I look liiike a ghoooost.” you slur.

You force your hand to take off your clothes, shivering even more at the false warmth that your wet clothes give you. The coat slams into the tile, a wet ‘smack!’ follows suit. You reach for your white vest and begin to hastily unbutton the stupid thing. Next goes your blue long sleeve, and then your sweat-stained undershirt. Nic Cage would have appreciated that.

You finish with your pants and buckle, but leave your boxers on. You stare at the mirror in discomfort. You haven't looked at yourself for what you think is weeks. Walking from Washington to Wyoming, and then traveling hitchhiker style on the supernova train to Texas has taken a lot out of you. What's in the mirror is a whole different man. It never crossed your mind to grow a beard or to get pretentious pecs from only the finest of workouts. It never crossed your mind to do half of the shit you are now.

Your body is still in shape, baby fat long gone. You don't have gorgeous diamond-strong abs or head crushing thighs, but you do have body smashing arms and nice rippling back muscles. You’re also extremely tall, you thank your long-dead mother for her amazonian genes. You inherited god awful eyesight though, and fairly large teeth, You look like those buff meaty nerd guys at the strip clubs with stick-on bow-ties. You snort.
You let out a laugh, feeling your whole body rumble. Sometimes you wonder if you’re the spitting image of a younger Johnson- or your dad for short. Old timer was a big goof, but so is your family.

Now that you think about it, you haven't heard from the Harleys (or English) in days. You take note to contact them in the near future. You sure hope Jade doesn't shoot you out of pure worry. That's the last thing you need.

You grab a first aid kit from the pantry. It has all of the right things, and get to work on patching up your ear you blatantly forgot. Whoever shot you has terrible aim you take note. You grab the antiseptic and gauze, its hello kitty themed, and some numbing sopor gel. It's hard to believe people (and trolls, witches, ET aliens etc) get high off this. Maybe you'll take a blunt later.

As far as you know about medical shit it could fill up your manila folder that was burnt in the fire alongside your pet bunny Liv. The least you could do is patch up a gunshot wound with duct tape, kiss is goodnight, and slap a Bill Cosby band-aid on top for good luck. For sure the few scars that litter your body show proof. The large one between your ribs shows it, you got nearly impaled, ran away with multiple head wounds and a possible concussion, rented an apartment and pussied out last second before the needle could stitch you up. It healed bad, so now it's just a long thick line of scarred tissue.

The process hurts, you wish the fucker could have just shot you straight up and blow your brains out, but apparently, the weather was too bad for the guy. Now it's just you and your now dry hair wrapped with no medical knowledge. You win some you lose some you tell yourself.

You flex at the mirror for moral bro support, quickly wheezing as you nearly black out. Nope, not doing that. So you just settle for a quick smile and head for your dreadful bed. You flop on it, and you nearly cry in relief.

Bless this bed for all its stupid worth! Its comfortable and it cradles your skin, the sheets tango with your body as you relish in heavenly bliss. This, by far, has been the only good day this entire month.

“If I could marry you, oh sweet five dollar bed, id sweep you off your dusty feet and make sweet, sweet sensual love with you!” You say and flip over your stomach. “Let's get married and live in the suburbs with our beautiful daughter Cassey, you'd be the best fun loving wine mom. I'll be the strong cheerful friendly neighborhood dad who drives the kids out to eat chipotle at nine am!”

At that point you don't remember how long you've been talking, the bed provided the warmth you needed for your freezing body, and you sorta think this rambling stage of yours has to do with the undeniable fact that the hypothermia is making you delusional, you slur your good nights and snuggle closer to the fuzzy lusii bedsheet. Good thing by tomorrow you’ll be set for a day to possibly chill out (hehe).
You definitely will prank your cousins next time you see them. It's been way too long and you haven't talked in ages. You’re sure they've built some sort of Egbert sensors that detect your jokes and schemes. Jokes on them though, you have way more pranks up your sleeve then accounted for. “Oh, jake!!! There couldn't possibly be a bucket above this slightly ajar door!” “Why jade, that would be so systematically placed we couldn't foresee it! Let us greet Our dear dally cousin john with the warmest of bro hugs, Tip tip tally ho!” They strut in, faces with love and quickly back away in case water falls on them, but you, with your smart brains and undeniable skills, will place a bucket of water in front of them! The thing swings down, their shocked faces with remorse, and get bucket full of water thrown at em’. Pranking 101. English/Harleys 0. Egbert 1.

Never mess with the Pranking master.

For once you can relax, even if it's for a few hours you realize. This whole badass murder plan has you swinging with the monkey bars. You need a good movie. Something to relax your mind while you warm up your body. The remote is luckily on the bedside table, Although it looks as if it hasn't been used in years. Whatever- You ignore the dust that clings to your fingers as you grab the remote. Better than falling asleep bored. You turn on the TV, probably ancient, and flip through the channels.

On channel 612 they’re announcing a nic cage special. It even has the ‘Con air 3 vs sharknado 30’ Controversy showing up live, you'd enjoy it. But the channel cost $230 and you don't wish to risk the Drones finding your location over some comedy gold literature. You sob back a tear, no time for crying. You keep flipping the channels until you reach 413, on the channel they seem to be talking about you. Your face is in the far corner, obscured by the night a horribly zoomed in picture even with the high-end tech they have (Sollux would tear their devices as if it was nothing)

“The Mystery man, although unknown of his origin has been known to go against her imperial condescension by frequent attacks on the main borders of her stationed locations. He has also been known to attack the royal families, and kill those in association with her. President Meenah C. Pixies has issued a state search for this terrorist/criminal. For those who come in close contact with him- please be aware he is deadly, dangerous and a threat. I repeat, Meenah Peixes has issued a State warning against this criminal, and if anyone knows who she or he is, please be aware that if you have any information on this known subject call your nearest Imperial Drone station and remain calm- Now back… wait we also have a new…”

Bleh, she didn't even give them your name, but she decided to call you a terrorist and a criminal. You already guessed she did this because she didn't want her precious Crocker name to be ruined. What a sneaky snake. Clever, but sneaky,

You decide to turn off the TV, Your grandmother has already ruined your movie hungry search.

As soon as you close your eyes, you succumb to the darkness.

Chapter Text

-3-

Good fisticuffs never hurt an old dog!

--

twinArmageddons[TA]

began trolling

ectoBiologist[EB]

--

TA: earth two fuckiing john egbert

TA: wake up dammiit ii diidnt 2tay up all niight programmiing your 2tupiid phone for nothiing.

TA: ii wiill explode your phone iin two miinute2 iif you dont re2pond.

EB: ok ok jeez!

EB: haha sorry sollux i have been busy lately!

EB: also please do not explode my phone.

TA: con2iideriing iit greatly.

EB: noooo!!

TA: jk

EB: :(

EB: dont joke around like that! last time i trusted someone they nearly chopped my head off.

TA: fuck jb what kiind of 2hiit are you goiing through.

EB: bleh!! dont worry about me!! its not like i nearly died.

TA: plea2e for the love of gog talk two your famiily.

EB: what? why?

TA: nothiing

TA: but anyway2 that2 not why ii contacted you.

EB: why did you contact me mr.captor?

TA: ii have two thiing2 two 2ay.

TA: one, why iin the everloviing nookfuck are you on tv?

EB: oh, that. guess im famous now!

EB: haha sorta forgot theres cameras around texas.

EB: whoops!

TA: ugh.

TA: iim workiing on deletiing all the data from theiir ba2e. the fiirewall2 are week a2 2hiit.

TA: but be more careful fucker

TA: a hacker of my level wouldve leaked and uploaded all your piicture2 two the iinternet.

EB: ...

EB: you dont plan on doing that, right?

TA: no.

EB: thank god! i was worried, i would die of embarrassment if that happened.

EB: imagine my noods!

TA: waiit you have nude2?

EB: haha no! wouldnt want little ol granny looking at those!

TA: hmm.

TA: anyway2, que2tiion number two.

TA: diid you get ghb'2 locatiion

EB: yeah i finally did.

EB: last night was a train wreck.

EB: my bones are meltingggg!

TA: what happened?

EB: i got the info from brook strider, and when i went outside i met terezi!

TA: what the hell why ii2 tz iin texa2?

EB: no clue!

EB: but we then had an argument and she let me go, i rented an apartment, it was raining the whole time!

EB: good thing i didnt get hypothermia or something, that wouldve...

TA:?

EB: sollsux!

TA: john iill feed your dead corp2e two the horrorterror2

EB: im joking, im joking :).

EB: but getting back on topic, could you mind sharing with me the info on ghb? want to make sure i dont get killed by a bunch of juggalos in clown paint!

TA: yeah yeah iill 2end you the 2tupiid fuckiing data.

EB: /winks at the twink

TA: ugh.

TA: bye ii need two do 2omethiing for my next cliient, dont get kiilled dumba22.

EB: will do sollux.

wake up, you unshaved fiend! ====>

You've been up for hours already, no need to rush. You just finished brushing your teeth while Sollux was trolling you. He’s one of your best buds, who would've thought you two would be friends. Never in a million years, that is. You both met when he hacked into your Pesterchum and threatened a friendly conversation. He was such an ass back then. You immediately wanted to befriend him. Apparently, all he wanted was to know what the shit you were doing.

You've done your best to touch yourself up, pampering 101 Egbert style. You shaved your growing beard away, washed your hair in the sink (made sure not to use cold water, you'll have a frizz but oh well.) and styled your untamable hair. You rebandaged the gauze, bleh, and decided on skipping the sopor gel. No recreational drugs for you!

Today you plan on going out, you aren't sure if you should wear casual clothes or Obi-wan Kenobi style drapes. Seeing as you'll be out in broad daylight you'll fit in. You’ll go casual.

You close the faucet and dry your face with a towel. The clothes are waiting for you on the bed, a simple blue vest, white long sleeve v-neck, motto twill joggers and your trusty (but crusty) white Adidas. The perfect casual look. It was extremely casual- they would suspect you of a devilishly casual young man. When it was in fact, a devilishly casual conman!

You slept buttnaked yesterday so it was a breeze to shrug these on. You’re surprised your pills didn't form with all the rain, your backpack surely is useful! Waterproof treasure. You quickly tie your shoes and head over to the bathroom for a once over. Alright, you dig this. Your Ray-Ban glasses are slightly crooked but you'll tweak them later.

You grab your backpack and rummage around for your Vagabond Traveler Manly MAN Bag because people couldn't just name it a satchel for christ sake, you place it on the side. You also get your Fathers manliest dad wallet with your dozens of loaded credit cards inside. You suppose you could also bring your bike, a quick getaway is key.

You cup your hands under the running tap water and collect some for the pilled objects. You pour water on the pill labeled “VTMMB-5” and some on “FMDWWYDOLCCI-12”. As expected they flourish into their beautiful physical objectified selves. A satchel and a wallet. You won't grow your bike because that's dumb John. Jeez.

You place your wallet inside the satchel and head for the door. You pillified your backpack and then pillified that pill into another pill and then tucked it neatly away inside your sock. Don't want anyone to steal all your identifications and report you to the state!

You slug your body over to the door and open it. The smell of shit immediately invades your nose and you sorta wanna die right then and there. You hold your breath and quickly close the door, not wanting to sleep in filth. And speed walk down the hallway. No fucking way are you taking another waft of death, no, not in a million years. You almost see the door, the light to freedom. The sanctuary of blessings. The holy grail of Magna Carta. C’mon John almost there. You feel your legs thump hard on the floor, your heartbeat is rising, your lungs are almost at their limit. Your speed walking turns into a mini dash. How can the smell make you run? This is bullshit! (literally). You pass the cashier from yesterday who seems to be attending a man.

“Aight but don't you think it'll be funny if…”

And you burst out of the apartment.

___________________________________

The more you walk around neo texas the more it seems to call out “Texas Toxic Wasteland” than “Friendly Hellbent Rodeo house” You seriously expected some robo cowboys to start a shootout at the local county jail! Boooring. Oh well, at least the strong southern accents are present. The shops around here are so different from the ones in Washington. When you were walking down the street you saw the strangest puppet shop, the racks from what you could tell as you were staring from outside, contained multi-colored plushies with long (obscene) noses and way too big butts. You quickly averted the fucking hellshop.

You might as well make your possible last days of earth last with some incredulous window shopping. But the reasonable side of your brain is screaming “go to the mechanic you imbecile dweeb!” While the more fun dorky side is crying “but the Blockbuster store is calling for us!”. You promptly tell them both to zip it. You do side with the reasonable, and head for the mechanic. (Only because you need to fix your hoverbike after the accident at derse) The GPS on your phone is helpfully guiding you. Take a right down this street. Perfect. Only 10 more minutes.

Like you were saying before, Texas Toxic Wasteland was the new name for this State. You brand it thus because of the hellish heat the city is undertaking. Seriously it was raining cats and dogs yesterday. Now it's burning you up so bad you started sweating like crazy.

You look around, There are buildings around here. Blocks and blocks of buildings. A car speeds by, a troll whos talking with a child laughs outside the cafe. A few birds pass above you. Thankfully zero drones.

Your face scrunches up, maybe you should hurry this up a bit.

The sky is forever dark.

You take another left, down Glover Street, and pass a couple. Fixing your bike isn't the only reason you decided to visit The Mechanics. Supposedly they have relations to The Makaras. A family of three supports the shop. Three males. And it just so happens that You where close enough. The youngest one, Tavros Nitram, was disabled in an “accident” when he was thirteen. He was able to walk with the advanced equipment made by some other Family. Rufioh Nitram, a mid-twenties man-- also helps his father with Tavros. Rufioh isn't that important. But the man he's with is, he begged the guy to help his little brother, and so he did. So you’ll ask him for those details. The actual owner of the Mechanic shop-- Ruvfus Nitram, is actively working with The Makaras. Ruvfus from what you've read owns a side business dealing with animals. He used to have some deep connection to them, something with The Makaras changed him you guess, so instead, he's shipping them overseas.

The shop appears in your point of view, your stomach aches. You lick your lips.

You re-run the whole plan inside your head, much more profesh than the one you did with Brook. That was a flop, this one will be smooth and slightly calculated. You walk in, ask for the owner, and knock him out. Bring him to the garage where his two sons will be strapped down, and politely ask questions while you’re enjoying some sweet n’ savory beef jerky. It's their call if they wish to cooperate, You’ve done this trillion of times before. You know the tips and tricks they’ll pull. Its all business you'll say, The Nitrams will nod their heads in approval. You pay them for their service and make them swear they won't tell anyone shit.

You smile, or it could go batshit and they decide to fight you and bring you to the GHB. Either way, you’ll see the crazy bastard one way or another.

It hasn't crossed your mind HOW you’ll meet him. You stare blankly at the overfilled trashcan next to you. Holy shit you didn't think that far. You groan into your hand in shame. How fucking stupid could you be? Barge in guns blazing like your cousin jake would say, and then demand answers from 3 highly interactive trolls that associate with the fucking Makaras? You seriously don't want to kill them, Jesus they’re mechanics, they save lives in the form of sweat and oil. Take that away from the metaphorical food chain and the whole thing falls down. Society will crumble, buildings will set fire, movies will cease to exist. (You push away the fact that you will basically destroy your grandmother's whole life work for the greater good, you aren't chaotic good, lawful good is your get-go).

Alright calm down- don't have a life crisis in front of Mc. Dona. You gotta at least ask them politely now.

You believe you’re in the middle of forming a migraine when a voice calls out from behind you.

“--re you ok, uh, oh gosh, um...are you ok? I saw you...walking and uh, you sorta stopped...and uh, oh yeah you almost tripped-- um, yeah.”

You look behind you to find a ginormous man with a buzzcut and a bull piercing looking straight at you. His face is contorted in worry and- is that fear? Wait why is this guy showing fear he could easily bulldoze you into the ground. A straight pummel to hell.

You finally stop staring like an idiot, jeez Egbert pull yourself together, and flash a smile.

“Oh yeah! Sorry about that, haha, I was just admiring the- uh view of this fine sculpted trash can.” You quickly lie, nearly stumbling over your words. Great.

“Hmm. uh, hm…” The stranger mumbles. “Alright, sorry for interrupting your… Trash watching…ill just walk away now, like a normal person, because, people stuff, uh, yeah, have a nice day- evening I mean, uh yeah better head back to my, important, work, because, work- yeahhh ill just head back sorry.”

You watch as he passes you, confused at how shy he is, but then you see the bold orange letters that spell “Nitrams Autocar Pupa Neverland!” and you call out to him.

“Wait!”

The man stops and looks at you worriedly, his hands' fiddle with the monstrous bags of food.

“You work at the Mechanic shop?” You ask, and he suddenly beams.

“Yeah! Uh, d-do you need me to fix a car?” He fully turns to you and motions to the building a few streets away. “The place is uh, up there… I can uhh walk you if you want…”

What a nice guy!

__________________________

“I’ll chew your fucking dick off!-” Wheeze “I’ll make you eat your own fucking arm, *cough* and *hack* Ill shove my foot so far up your ass you'll eat your own prostate!”

The next punch that hits your cheek nearly makes you black out.

“Oi, I told you to shut the fuck up, damn brat- wait who gave clubs the fucking- goddamit, do I have to do all this fuckin’ work around here?! My damn back needs some retirement for godsakes, you’re all giving me stress hairs- NO hearts put that shit- you know what I don't gotta deal with that shit-”

A punch lands itself to your gut, bile almost comes out your mouth. You don't give him the satisfaction.

Why did you ever sell them that piece of shit gun? The mega thrusters where fucking gold, but the firing timing was shit. Man, you’re too tired and bloody for this absurd crap. Give yourself a spa date and slap that shit in the ass, you don't deserve this scoot. Someone call the cops and inform them of a tightass deal gone wrong. One sexy as fuck suspect being badly manhandled demands a refund- what sir? We can't refund? Boom. lawsuit coming your way, special delivery a la deux. First come first serve.

“Lil bitch ass motherfucker, that’s all you got? How ‘bout you c’mere so I can gauge your other fuckin’ eye out, retard.”

You know talking shit while tied down to a pole in the middle of a warehouse in South Asia is risky, stupid, and damn near magical once you send those sick ass anime posters to your apartment. Dirk would flip his shit in the most nonchalant strider way. “Thanks, bro.” He will whisper in awe, you with your lanky arms embrace him ironically “All according to keikaku.” you say.

The yank of your hair and the sharp thing that presses against your throat snaps you back to reality. You wince as the knife presses harder.

“How ‘bout I slit your dirty little trap eh?” Slick says.

You’re pretty glad that you weren’t blindfolded, that would've sucked. Now you can aim your spit directly in his closed eyelid.

He flinches back, dropping the knife. Spades curses, but you smirk.

And just on time, a car bursts through the blood splattered wall next to you. A tune of John Cena plays in honks, three primary colored people are inside the massive tank.

“Ah, shit! We ain’t no fuckin’ match for these bozos! Scram!” He shouts, the three men that were currently dragging the cartloads of guns and other illegal shit dropped it like its hot and ran out.

“Where makin’ this hapen.” Sweet Bro and his luscious long locks say. He has a bandana wrapped around his Ballistic forehead, Hella Jeff nods as he loads a gun. “We doin’ this”

“Aaaaaaand cut! great work team,” A voice booms, the rope that barely bound you falls loose, The three men that ran away come back from around the corner. Sweet Bro And Hella Jeff: The Chronicles of Keikaku was finished.

You prop yourself up and look around. The studio crew has finished cleaning everything up, you order someone to bring you an apple juice.

The person that was taking your spot in the direction seat comes up to you, she's a small troll with a big temper. “Dave Str-rider-r, Tell me again why you’r-re in the movie when you should be dir-recting it?” She crosses her bulky arms.

“Well, you see,” You take one cool sip of the sweet sweet AJ. “It’s ironic, next part you’re killing me, remember to tell Jeff that. Also, make it slow and dramatic with the 13-hour version of YMCA playing in the back.”

- -

You finally arrive back to Houston after the long ass airplane ride from Japan. The tons of loaded garbage you have should be arriving tomorrow with the express shipping. You ironically live in a shitty apartment with your younger brother Dirk Strider, It’s been so long since you’ve seen him. He’ll flip his shit when you barge in through the bolted door. Sword in hand and souvenirs in the other. Kickass shades twinkling in the night sky, beautiful babe hanging off your shoulders like some damsel in distress.

Alternatively, he could just say “yo” and act all chill like its no biggy, but you know deep down he's glad your back.

You check in with the cashier, the place hasn’t changed one bit since last time. You both talk for a while, she tells you “You shoould’ve seen the hoot piece oof eye candy that came in last night, he looooked awful but yoou coould tell he woorked oout with the bulging muscles.” Your brain makes a quick stop at ‘hot piece of eye candy’ and you’re suddenly intrigued. Not many guys passed around here, except for Albert, Albert got kicked out yesterday though.

“Aight but don't you think it'll be funny if he was-?” you say, you feel movement behind you but its quickly gone. Your fight or flight instincts kick in, but once you turn around the man is running out.

Well, that was weird. Hope he knows that you gotta sign out before leaving this shithole.

“Ooh, I think that was him.”

Hmm.

_______________________

The Mechanic shop is surprisingly what you expected it to be, the walls are coated a deep orange and the shelves are lined with a years supply of oil and car parts. The register is set to the left next to the door you believe leads to the garage. The place smells of gas and cheap car fresheners. The ceiling fan is on full speed, This place looks nothing like the outside. Everything is glowing and modern with cybernetic robots driving the cars in the hovering highways above the cities buildings. This place looks downright old. But on second thought, as you gaze at a picture framed towards the right of the wall. It's homie.

“So what’s uhm, the car you need fixing? Uh, do you even have a car?”

The man John was staring at was true to be Tavros Nitram. He had already dropped his bags near the counter and was staring at him with a nervous gaze.

He remembered what social interaction was again, and blurted out a laugh. “Yeah ha, ill get the Bike out-” He opened the satchel that lay on his hip and rummaged through it “Felt like walking today.”

Tavros scratched the back of his neck, and he quirked a brow “I uh… Still, don't see your bike?”

You finally find your pill bottle under all the mess, with your right hand you eventually find a half-empty water bottle. You walk over to the garage with a trailing Tavros behind you.

“Do you have it outside? Is it one of- is it one of the new auto transportalizers? I heard when they, uhm, malfunction they start transporting like, uh crazy… Oh, I'm sorry all this talking is making you mad right? Gosh sorry…”

You stare back at Tavros with a bewildered look.

“Dude, relax.” You say “My bike’s in the bottle”

Tavros Stutters “E-Excuse me?”

“Yeah, maybe if you stopped being so shy you would’ve known by now.”

Tavros motions something with his hand, he looks a little bit annoyed.

“That's absolute bull! Listen, How was I supposed to know the bottle- forget it.” He sighs. “Customers always right.” He seems to repeat.

“well,” You look away. You both somehow walked to the corner of the garage, It heavily smelled like oil and rusty car tools.

You signal Tavros to back away, with some more confusion he teetered off. His gaze questioning your intentions.

You search inside the bottle for the pill marked JBMB-0.2. You spot a black and blue pill and pinch it out. You shuffle through your bag with your right hand and snatch a water bottle, you switch it with the pill container. Your practiced hands handle the whole procedure with ease.

“So...What are you doing now?” Tavros asks.

You uncap the water bottle and pour water over the pill.

Chapter Text

The young Puerto Rican teen watched over the man as he poured water above the pill. The man, or as he told him a few minutes ago, John, was babbling on about something named “The Equalizer” and how he sorta related to the character. Tavros just kept watching, a faint tingling spreading around his lower half. He winced, bending down to massage the ghostly feeling. Shit, He thought, maybe if John could hurry up he could lay down for a while.

“-Do you want to know about The Equalizer?” John spoke, finally standing up “This should take a few minutes to expand.”

Tavros raised a brow, returning back to his normal position. “Is that some sort of troll?”

John rolled his sleeves up, exposing his scarred right hand. Tavros felt his blood run cold.

“Now, I'm not much of a storyteller.” John mused, gazing down at his arms. He rubbed them with thought. “But let me tell you this.”

Tavros felt a sense of unease wash over him, backing away as John approached, waltzing with ease. He did nothing but staring at his wrist, walking like an animal. Tavros felt this sensation before, he gulped.

“The Equalizer’s an old movie, something my dad made me watch for my fifteenth birthday,” He chuckled, a peaceful look rising up. “I always complained to him about the plot being predictable, a guy bringing justice to those who need it. You could guess the ending from a mile away! No class whatsoever.”

John grimaced, “But I guess now that I’m older, a lot of things make sense to me.” John slowly leaned in, face to face with the nervous man, “I see that things are fucked up. The injustice in this world is cruel and really stupid.” John’s face dropped, a cold glare boring holes into Tavros skull, he whispered, leaning into his ear, not above a breath. “So tell me, Tavros, tell me how such a nice family like yours gets so involved with maniacs like The Makaras?”

Tavros’s body felt hot. His legs began to feel like fire, Fire, there was fire- A deep petrifying laugh emerged from the back of his head. That god awful laugh- Tavros breathed out, his body unwilling to run away. There was something about this guy he thought, unable to look anywhere but the back of John's head. He wasn’t normal.

John was a force to be reckoned with.

An ungodly force.

“...I Do-don't, I don't know what you’re… You must be mi-mistaken, I.” Tavros sobbed, hot tears trailing down his face. “I swear-” He hiccuped, shutting his eyes off from the world.

“Tell me,” John demanded, gripping his forearm

“They’ll hurt us-”

“They won’t.” John soothed, but still didn’t let go of his arm. “Tell me.” He said louder.

“Please.” He pleaded.

Tavros’s lower lip trembled, He shouldn’t do this, he shouldn’t expose Mr.Makara like this- He can’t expose him.

The looming danger that hid in deep caverns was unprecedently dangerous, and yet, what if there was a way to escape it?

“How- How about we take a- a seat,” Tavros suggested, sweating bullets by the second. “W-we could talk this over-over coffee.”

John looked at him for a few seconds, an unreadable expression building its way forward. He blinked once, twice, before a large smile etched its way to his lips. His buck teeth shone, white and pearly, and his dimples predominantly placed themselves on his cheeks. He almost looked like a child, if not for the near murderous show he presented before.

“Sure!” John smirked, patting his shoulder. “Extra sugar on mine, hold the milk.”

Tavros just nodded dumbly.

__________________________________________________

“What… do you want to know?” Tavros asked as he took a sip from his orange mug. The bitter taste of black coffee soothing his nerves. He sat across from John, who’s currently observing him while drinking out of his Hello Kitty mug. He raised his brows.

“First off, love the Hello Kitty mug!” John smiled as he pointed at the cup. “You don’t see this every day.”

“Yeah...” Tavros glanced to the side, scratching at his gauged ear. He was unsure if John was joking or not.

John stared at him, biting at his lower lip. He inhaled, exhaled, and closed his eyes.

“Oh shoot… sorry if you shit your pants because of me, I’m uh, not that good with other people.” he nervously chuckled. But stopped when Tavros widened his eyes. “Shit- uh, guess I was too rough,” he mumbled.

“No! No! Not at all! I’m sure you have your, uh, reasons…” Tavros trailed off as he noticed John dumbly pinch himself. “But please don’t do that again...The least my dad needs is another burden on his back.”

John took a long sip of his overly sweet coffee.

“As much as I want to know more about you, I’d rather this not be a group therapy session.”

The garage fell silent, a gust of wind streams out from a pipe along the walls.

“Huh,” Tavros sighed while placing the mug down, a lenient look plastered on his face. He frowned, and John could see the utter “I'm so fucking tired, if an alien came behind me and started shouting how he wanted to fuck humanity over and enslave us, I wouldn’t be surprised.” look.

Tavros gestured to John and leaned back. “You have questions, I have answers. Shoot.” Tavros waited for a second to pass, “Don't actually, shoot me, that is-”

“Never in a million years buddy,” John smirked, rubbing his hands together as if he were about to win the New York Powerball. “Ready for a flash round of questionnaire?”

Tavros mentally readied himself for the inevitable, he could practically feel the stingy freakshows hands prodding at his mind, bucktoothed glasses wearing asshole with freakishly good looks laughing at him.

“I already have The Grand Highblood’s location, so you don't have to tell me that. But what I do need is a firm layout of the place.”

Tavros blinked, “Is that, uhm, all?” he asked. Surely he wanted more information?

“Uh, no? Duh! Why do you think I'm giving you an Egbertian Jeopardy-thingymajig?” He rolled his eyes. “Jeez, I still have to know who’s working under him and if there's anyone special that’s absolutely batshit crazy.”

“Alright, well- there’s uhm… three hundred floors to the building… There's a security checkpoint at the start, but a backdoor at the side of the building. There should be a stairwell to the right of the hallway you’ll encounter, and the further up you go, the harder security gets.” Tavros stopped, furrowing his eyebrows. “John, I don’t know if anyone's said this yet, but this “Mission” or whatever is really dangerous- And if you get caught, my whole family could be in danger.”

John sighed, laying his head on his palms. He boredly stared at Tavros- as if he were the most uninteresting thing he ever laid eyes on.

“Hate to break it to you, but I don’t care.” John bit the inside of his mouth. “Keep going, I'm listening.”

Tavros stared dumbfoundedly at John, before reverting back to his slouched state. “You’re suicidal-” He muttered, continuing back to his speech.

“Like I was saying, Security gets harder, rooms get bigger, danger gets closer. The Grand Highblood doesn’t mess around when it comes to intruders… so he stations the most skilled people near his office, A.K.A. his room. His younger brother, Kurloz, lives somewhere on the 299th floor, below his. And… Gamzee…” Tavros trailed off, rubbing the gauge with a skull design, a faraway look in his eyes. “Please, don’t hurt him. He never did anything wrong- I-I swear on my life.”

John blew a raspberry, puffing his cheeks in a mocking tone as he observed Tavros. His eyes shone with mischief, clearly testing his patience.

Tavros swallowed, he peered around the room and leaned in. “Be careful though, Gamzee’s a little bit dangerous when he’s mad- or not high- or both. Definitely avoid him if it's both,”

“Don’t mess with happy high clown guy, got it.” John gave him a thumbs up, quirking a smile. “Anything else I need to know?”

Tavros puffed his cheeks, leaning back. “I don’t uh… really know- I’ve been to the place a couple of times for business deals with my dad, but usually, he sends me off with Gamzee to go spend his money on stupid things,” Tavros breathlessly laughed “But if you want even more-” He paused, looking John straight in the eyes. “You’ll need to speak to- V-V-ri-”

Johns phone beeped, and he signaled for Tavros to wait. “Give me a sec.”

John took his phone from inside the bag, glancing at the screen.

Tavros watched as he stood up from the plastic chair, the Hello Kitty Mug spilling some coffee as it clamored around the table. John breathed heavily, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Oh my god!” John chanted, sprinting around the room while singing in glory. He somersaulted over the 2009 Spyker, Tavros nearly fainted, although, screamed when John hit the bumper side in his maddening excitement.

“Oh my god!” Tavros wept, sprinting after the car. “Ay Dios Mio! My fathers going to kill me, cabron!”

“Holy fucking shit!” John laughed, staring at Tavros. “Do you have a bathroom?”

“A bathroom? Yeah, I have a bathroom, because I just fucking shit myself.” Tavros cried, glaring at John. “To the left of the freaking hall.” he breathed laboriously.

“Thanks!” John hollered as he marched out the door.

John fidgeted about looking for the bathroom, still trying to hold back his escaping fits of control. But how could he? His cousins just sent him an invitation for a group memo! Jade and Jake! His freaking cousins! The literal lights of his life were contacting him after years of no communication. The only thing restraining him from answering them was the fear of Tavros peeking at his screen from invisible cameras. (And because he didn’t know what was going to happen.)

John glimpsed around the corner and beamed when the big bold glorious sign of “Bathroom” practically shone in his face. He hastily skipped to the door, opened it, and slammed it as soon as he was in. John gave the small bathroom a once over before plopping himself on the plastic toilet seat.

“Alrighty, let’s see what they want.”

John unlocked his phone and opened the Pesterchum app, tapping on the new convo.

GG: John!!!!!!!!
GT: JOHN YOU OLD DOG! I HAVE MISSED YOU!!!!
GG: hehe, calm down jake! :D
GT: Why Jade, how do you propose i calm down when our beloved cousin is a chat away!
GT: I'm bursting at the seams with excitement!
GG: oh man, me too!!
GT: Where the hell is he though?
GT: Usually he responds within a seconds notice.
GG: maybe he’s off talking to someone??
GG: i mean, we ARE out here going on your crazy adventures!
GG: he’s justified with a cause
GT: Or.
GT: We’re pestering him too fast.
GG: huh, yeah seems so
EB: Jade!!! Jake!!!!!!
GT: JOHN!!!!!!!!!
GG: JOHNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D
EB: haha! Oh my god! ive missed you guys a TON!
GT: Friggs flipping sake! you’ve made us wait for a grandmothers funeral!
GG: yeah! whatever the hell he said.
EB: hehe, sorry ive been caught up with a few minor things
GG: John, your definition of minor is shitty.
GT: Agreed, i’m sad to say whenever you speak of minor inconveniences they turn out to be gigantic problems.
GT: To say the least your brain is slow as molasses
EB: ouch!
GT: Ouch indeed.
GG: double ouch reacharound
EB: sorry guys, i really am :/
GG: whatever, the past is in the past! time to move on
GT: Anyways, Jade and me have a special announcement to make!
GG: “Jade and I”
GG: but yeah! We do have one major announcement!
EB: oh?
EB: c’mon! tell me!
EB: ohhhhh, is it the new aristocats live movie adaptation featuring tom cruise and scarlet johansson?
GT: Good guess, but no.
GT: something (sadly) better.
GG: oh it is waaay cooler!
EB: oh crap are you and jade going to wrestle me?
EB: not in the mood to wrestle BOTH of you
GG: no
GT: No.
EB: did jake kiss a decapitated skull?
EB: bet you 20 he actually did
EB: jake would totally do that
GT: NO!!!!
GG: haha nope
EB: holly wood sex scandal?
GG: no
EB: you discovered a new species?
GT: no :(
EB: both of you blew up the south side of Dakota?
GT: NO!
GG: NO!!
GG: HOW FUCKING DENSE CAN YOU BE!!!
GT: Oh kicking Christ on a soggy knickerbocker!
EB: oh shit
GG: JAKE AND I ARE GOING TO FUCKING VISIT YOU, DUMBASS
EB: OH SHIT
GT: And in two weeks times, lass.
EB: OH SHIT!!

=====>: Proceed to have a mental breakdown in an old Spanish garage in T-Minus 10 seconds

“Fuck,” John whispered, staring blankly at a poster with a cat hanging off a branch. The fanning of the vents his only comfort. They can’t come over here, it’s way too dangerous. This isn’t like any of their “Adventures”. This was pure danger, and he couldn’t- He couldn’t- “Fuck!” John whisper-shouted, gripping his knee.

Alright, Calm down, John said to himself. This was fine! Everything was under control. Just- Just tell them to visit some other day- week- Month- It didn’t matter. They can’t come at any *cost*.

EB: you guys cannot come over.
EB: i am dead serious.
EB: i have a bad case of the no-no passaritis.
GG: no-no what?
GT: Is this another feeble way to get us to leave you alone?
GT: our grandfather taught us all the sneaky sneaky ways of you Crockers!
EB: Egberts.
GG: jake…
GT: Oh fiddle, uhm… sorry!
EB: but anyways, you guys might have to set the visiting date a little back!
GG: are you crazy!
GG: we've been planning this trip since Fiji!
GT: Was it Fiji? That’s the most pacifist island in all of Oceania.
GT: Maybe Miyake-Jima?
GG: no, it was just poisonous!
GG: OH!! i remember!!
GG: it was sentinel island!! i had so much fun there!
GT: Did you now? I found our stay very... promising.
GG: hell yeah! the Sentinelese people are actually really sweet
GG: our boat crashed on their island and they helped us fix it
GT: The woman where ever so enticing.
GT: Very brave natured woman.
GT: Tall too…
GG: ok jakes having one of his daydreams again
GG: ewwwww he's drooling all over the steering wheel!
EB: wait isn’t that place illegal for outsiders?
GG: yep!
EB: how the hell did you guys not get killed?
GT: They must’ve seen our dashing good looks!
GG: actually, no, they forced us to face some trials before actually sparing our lives
EB: hmmm.
EB: well, uh, just don’t come? For my sake i guess?
GT: John, that is very selfish!
GT: We spent a good deal of money getting first class tickets!
GG: my college tuition has PERISHED
GG: and i refuse to use sweet dear old grandpas barely hard earned money
GG: old doof is probably out conquering planets and looking for weird blue ladies
GT: I wouldn't oppose the old toot to seek stunning gems.
GT: A fine man knows his girlies!
EB: you and your blue woman.
EB: don’t you get exhausted fantasizing about them without tiring your dick?
GG: YES!! PLEASE TELL HIM JOHN!
GG: i die every day!
GG: i have to wear soundproof headphones just in case he does something gross
GG: BLEEEEH!!!!
GT: One day, while I’m out venturing for my blue tinted soulmate.
GT: I shall stumble upon her grace.
GT: She will lead me to the ancient forest, with her voluptuous breasts.
EB: oh my god.
GT: And I shall commence our mating ritual!
GG: …
GT: Oh my! The adventure has me quaking in my boots!
GT: Ouch! JADE!
GG: honest to god wish you couldn't speak
GT: Please mind yourself of our family's scrumptious strength!
GG: blah blah british bullshit blah blah
EB: eugh!
EB: FINE FINE! Come over here for all i care! just stay at some hotel or whatever until three weeks have passed!
GG: THREE???
GT: Weeks?!
GT: You have lost your beeswax solo caravan! I have no lingo that could express my baffled state!
GG: John you are driving me up a hill!
GT: Rikki Tikki Tavi you blundering Buffoon! Lay it on us! Tell us what has you unfit as a fiddle?
EB: im just
EB: you cant
EB: ITS
EB: I
EB: FUCKING
EB: EEEEEEEUGHGGHHHHHHHHHH
EB: ficky dickey mickey fucking mouse! Stupid fucking shitballing doe train juggalo stupid idiot freaking fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
EB: eat his shit you fucking!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Multiple stair dwelling mafia clown paint wearing boot snuggling drug dealing clown fucker BITCH!
EB: IM GONNA KILL HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ectoBiologist [EB] ceased commenting on the memo

GG: uhm
GT: How about we delay the flight?
GG: good idea. :/

You throw your phone against the poster in frustration, heavy breaths escaping from your lungs. You dig your nails into your thigh, pain forming on the spot. But you can’t think of anything else.

Your cousins have setback your plan by a long shot, and it doesn’t seem like you’ll be able to even win against them with your family on the line.

You bore holes into the kitten, “you can do this!” my ass. Its fluffy cute exterior betraying all thoughts of everything being fine. But you know what? It’s actually fine! You can fix this. This is child’s play to everything that’s happened before. You give your back a pat. A sympathetic gesture, promising a good chiropractor will crack it.

You honest to god just want this all to be over, you want to live a normal life and settle with your darling daughter and beautiful wife in the suburbs. Play some family games and watch golden age movies. Grow old and go into retirement, but no. The universe wants to fuck you over big time and then blame it on poor ol’ carl. But y’know what? FUCK Paradox Space. You’re your own damn man and if you wish to fuck yourself over ten times then so be it! You’ll fuck yourself so hard it’ll be taken out of context.

You take a few repetitive steps of what Sollux calls “dealing with my angry friend 24/7 therapeutic meditation zone” and breathe. He says he imagines “Two hot babes waiting for me back home” so you contort that image into a bed and- wait who’s that g-

A knock interrupts your zen, “A- are you ok? You’ve been in there for quite the while amigo… did your ass get stuck in the toilet-” A low whisper of “shit, I thought our plumbing guaranteed no more stuck customers.” comes behind the door. It’s Tavros, thank god.

“Yeah, I’m fine! I’ll be out.” you fake a cheerful tone, Tavros worries too much.

“Alright, cool man, uh… I’ll be… waiting?” You hear the faint stomp of his feet leave.

You’ve been sitting on the toilet for so long your ass has started hurting, you stand up, feeling immense relief flood your bosom. Speaking of asses, you once had a strong fear of a Japanese Kappa shoving its arm up your ass when you were little. Truth be told you would shit in a bucket for the rest of middle school, holding the poop in until you came home. No way would you bring a bucket to school. That’d be culturally sensitive and demeaning for the troll residents, and a quick visit to suspension city.

You woefully exit the bathroom, finally bottling up that little situation and probably increasing the signs of a manic episode for the near future. You enter the garage and see Tavros typing away at his phone. A sense of dread spikes in your mind, could he be alerting the police? Talking to his father? Talking to The Grand Highblood-

Tavros turned around expectantly, a small smile on his face. “Sorry, I was texting my dad to bring some pizza. Did you, uhm- are you ok?” Tavros frowned, putting his phone away. “Listen if this is about the poop jokes, I'm uh, sorry.”

You wave at him, dismissing his thoughts. “Nah I'm fine, I got to leave anyway.”

Tavros nods, pointing his thumb at your motorbike “I checked everything while you were in the bathroom, luckily you only needed an oil change.” He hums, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “That will be $37.98, though.”

You hand him two twenties. Telling him to keep the change, he pockets the access and plops the rest inside the cashier box. You wave him goodbye, but he stops you.

“Ah- uh! Wait! Wait, uhm, so… please- do me a favor!” Tavros stammers, fidgeting with his skull gauge. “Do-don't kill Gamzee, as I said before… he doesn’t deserve it.” Tavros grimaces, looking you straight in the eye. “ I don't really know who you are, but I know that you’re doing something big… so if you… ever- need someone- I- I could… I might be able to help- with, I-Info, and stuff.”

You pout your lips, crossing your arms in thought. He might be of value near in the future, and his big build might serve him as a tank someday…

“Jeez, sure, join in on the toot toot train of death,” You shrug, smiling as Tavros gleams with joy.

Tavros widens his eyes, searching in the back pocket of his jumpsuit for something, he pulls out an old phone with the screen cracked. “Can I give you my number? Or Pesterchum? Or do you use some illegal underground app?”

“Yes, yes, and no” you smirk watching as Tavros slightly deflates. You take his phone and type your number and chum handle. “Send me a text with your full name, so I know it’s you.”

Tavros salutes, giving you a warm smile. “Sure can do.”

You exit the mechanic shop soon after that, re-entering the techno world of Texas, the sun has set dramatically, and fewer people are roaming the streets. You spot an od looking, old lady, scream at some taxi. To the left of her, down the street, there's a group of teenage boys mocking their friend. The guy growls, throwing his skateboard on the pavement. It shatters, and you watch in surprise as the guy kisses some brunette from the rowdy gang.

Yep. Typical Neo Texas.

You begin walking to the apartment, ignoring the tingle and shiver your back produces. You look behind you, just in case. Merely a mom with her daughter window shopping. And… Is the daughter a doll? Oh no, is this some Annabelle shit?

You quickly turn around, hugging your satchel closer. Ok maybe the mom's daughter died and she has some sort of weird detachment to the doll. The very, VERY obese doll.

Whatever, none of your business.

You begin walking once again, passing a coffee shop with cute cat designs, But once again have that tingling feeling of being… watched

You turn around once again, expecting the Annabelle-looking-kid to murder you, but instead, watch as two people fumble around in their puffy dresses. You quirk a brow, what is this? The eighteen hundreds?

They both freeze, and upon further inspection, under their bonnets, the people have shades.

Ohhhh shit, are you getting kidnapped by men in black wannabes?

You decide to end this chivalrous chase of cat and mouse (thank you, Jake, for the useless extended vocabulary) and speak up in a disappointed voice. “Are you ma’ams lost?”

The one on the left panics a little, but the one on the right straightens their back, showing off their… melon bust?

“Yes-” Their masculine voice cracks, “Yes, we’re lost.” they try again, a more feminine tone to their voice. She gestures to the person the left, who’s wearing triangular shades. “This is my sister… Dirika, and I am Daveney.”

Dirika’s frown increases a tenfold, “We kind folk needeth helpeth to find our yee apartment. Would you kindly escort thou maidens to our home o’ great man?”

Daveney’s stoic face cracks a little, a microscopic upturn.

You stare at them suspiciously, looking over their features for anything dangerous. Daveney has long blond hair tucked inside the bonnet, her red dress is twice her size, frilly and poofy just like Dirikas. The only thing modern about them are the shades.

“Uh yeah, sure I could help you,” You scratch the back of your head.

Daveney nudges Dirika and the latter sighs, clear annoyance written all over their face. “Thank ye so mucheth, what is your name, oh great man?”

“John,” You smile, holding your arm out for a handshake. Daveney, instead, acts as an absolute fiend and fistbumps your hand. You try your best not to punch her in the throat.

And Daveney just *smirks*.

In conclusion, you take this Daveney lady as a woman who plays Minecraft on creative mode for the entirety of her gameplay.

In fact, you are CERTAIN she is, in fact, a HE in disguise. No fine lady wears victorian goth dresses in the middle of Texas.

“Our address is Kimven llumej’s Apartments. MMmmho ho do you know where that is?” Daveney giggles, it comes out more like a garbled cry from a 30-year-old smoker.

“Oh- OH! That’s where I live!” You reply, watching as Dirika sighs once again. “It should be four blocks from here, I don’t see how you could’ve missed it?”

“My dearest sis has terrible fucking memor-” Daveney interrupts Dirika with a hard jab to the side. “Mmmmho ho ignore her she’s quite famished.” She smiles sharply. “She turns quite the dumbass.”

Both of the sisters share a weighty silence, standing as straight as a beanpole. Dirika seems like she’s ready to pounce on Daveney any second, and Daveney’s trying her best not to reciprocate.

It’s immensely awkward having these two strangers have a silent fight, and you certainly don’t want to be here any longer, so you strap in your pants and hang on tight for the ride home.

“Alright, uhm, let’s get going now.”

You begin walking down the street, your white shoes thumping against the harsh pavement. A car zooms by, earning a honk from a self-driving car. You glance behind you to make sure they’re following you. Daveney and Dirika look away from each other, ceasing any sort of communication they had behind your back.

There might be something off about them now that you think about it. Definitely the dresses, but in the back of your head, you know you’ve seen that Daveney person somewhere. Probably her sister too. Maybe it’s the shades, or maybe it’s the fine facial features.

Definitely the shades.

Either way, you’re going to have to make sure he- SHE isn’t some bad guy, you spot your apartment complex at the end of the street, it definitely looks better in the daytime, but nonetheless still shit.

It’s been awfully quiet, you decide to start up a conversation with the gang. “So, do you agree this place needs to get some renovation?” You chuckle, glancing behind you.

Daveney smiles, but it somehow looks annoyed. “Yes it does, thou repairments should’ve starteth weeks ago,” She says. “It was very costly.” she hisses the last part.

“What? You funded the repairments?” you ask, walking up the stairs. You nearly trip, catching yourself on the railing. You sigh in relief.

“Told you dog,” Dirika says quietly, going through the automatic doors.

Daveney somewhat smiles in approval, following her sister. “My uh, friend… does. He’s very handsome, you should talk to him. He’d find you very good looking.” She gives you a thumbs up, disappearing inside.

Not long after you entered, there was no sign of Daveney or Dirika, you scratch your head in confusion. For as weird as their names are, they seemed like okay people.

The lobby isn’t too full, just a couple of old people chatting away, the receptionist is still on her phone, though a bit cheery. On the T.V. there’s a baking show on, The Condesce is smack dab in the middle, showing off her pearly white teeth littered with sharp grills.

You check in with the cashier, striking up some small talk that ended with her snorting, and saunter over to your first-floor room. You take an experimental whiff of the air, ready to reel in disgust, but are surprised when you smell cleanliness instead of horseshit.

Good, they cleaned the hall.

You look to the far right, The Mona Lisa painting still staring at you.

You shove your fingers in your satchel and drag out your keys, unlocking the door to your apartment.

Everything else is a blur. From shrugging off your shirt and pants to ripping your shoes off, the bathroom seems to be calling you like the gates of heaven themselves. You trek to the bathroom in all your naked glory and shove the shower curtains aside.

You step in, feeling the cold tiles on your aching toes, and turn the faucet all the way to boiling hot.

You groan as the blazing water cascades down your shoulders, leaning on the wall for support. You rub your neck, sighing in relief as the tension leaves. You’re in utter bliss, so you ignore the way your body screams for some sort of cooling.

You think back to the conversation with your cousins, on how they demanded answers, how they said they were coming to visit you. All of the experiences you had, Brook Strider, Terezi, Sollux, Tavros… How you pin tags on them, keeping them as valuable resources, information hubs.

You close your eyes slowly, your bottom lip shivering as you collapse to the floor in a heaping mess of guilt.

This is the first time you’ve had a shower in weeks.