Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The desert. A dry and arid place that stretches out for miles, forever, until all you breath is helium. You go out into the desert by some unknown force, by a trail made of feathers and oil, to a place the lobby druids call Heaven. You may stare in awe at the air made of neon; the sands sparkling a rainbow of color. You'll start bleeding spray paint and throwing up glitter. The desert will take you. Once you leave the city you're gone. You can't escape the freedom of the winds. And then the ghosts and spirits you heard about in lobby alley ways will come for you; speak to you.

Party Poison has spoken many times to the desert deities.

The first time they talked to a deity was two weeks into their stay in the desert. They didn't even have a name yet, didn't even meet Ghoulie. They were just a nameless Color Child taken in by some desert born kid who "owned" a diner.

It was late, somewhere past 2am, the time they heard lobby druids call 'The Artemis Hour'; when you can see the moon. Kobra Kid (he picked his name early. He did always have a fascination with snakes.) and that desert born, Jet Star, were asleep as they snuck out.

It was cold. The sky was a rainbow of chemicals and right there besides the satellites and stars was Destroya's Night Light, the moon. They have always wanted to see the moon and now, in person, they could say it was brighter and more beautiful than any picture in a text book or graffiti drawing. It was gorgeous. They could only wish to be that shiny.

As the gas clouds sunk lower, their eyesight became hazy. They could see auras. Is this the holy light the Graffiti Bible spoke of? The colorful rebellion BL/ind tried to destroy? As their knees gave out, they felt a hand on their shoulder.

"Hello, Color Child." When it spoke it was like a yell in the dark and a whisper in the wind; like a thousand people spoke and as if no one spoke at all.

Blue fur came into view for Them. It had a cartoonishly big head with mouse and cat-like features. Primary colored shapes seemed to float around its head.

"Welcome to the Desert." It's face didn't move when it spoke. That was oddly comforting to Them. Everything about it was oddly comforting. It was so familiar but out of place. Or maybe it was exactly where it was supposed to be; in between worlds like this.

"Hi." They croaked in response. "Who are you?"

It straightened so it's head was blocking the Sun. When did the sun come up? Why are the moon and the stars still in the sky? They shook their head softly. It didn't matter.

"Oh, sweetie, don't you recognize me? I've known you since you were small, how could you forget me?" What emotions it couldn't convey with its mouth, it's gestures made up for; sing-song-ly, they thought.

Then it clicked. Mousekat. The propaganda cartoon in Batt City but how? Why were they so colorful? So bright?

"Hmmm exactly." It hummed. It crouched in front of Them, meeting them eye-to-eye. Or, well, was it eye-to-eye if it didn't need to blink?

Maybe Their face conveyed confusion or maybe Mousekat got this question a lot or maybe Mousekat was a mind reader, anything was possible, because it answered Their question. "You know I wasn't always a cartoon. I was here before BLI or the Killjoys. Before Sister Rosetta Tharpe invented your precious rock n roll. Before neon was discovered and Moses parted the red sea. I was here before your puny little planet got made. Maybe. I don't know at this point. I just like saying that I suppose." It paused. "BLI saw me and thought I could be their little propaganda pet but you joys saw me and saw hope and revolution. Or an acid hallucination but that's better than black n white cartoons. Talk about boooring."

"Oh, okay." They said as Mousekat settled next to Them on the sand. "So where are you from then? If you're not from here?"

"Outer space."

"Oh, cool."

Silence.

"I have a sibling too, you know."

"You do?"

"Yeah, maybe you'll meet 'em, killjoy."

"Why are you even talking to me?"

"I was bored. And that bird lady kept nagging me to talk to you. Something about how I know your name or whatever. But you already know it so I don't see the point."

They jerked their head towards Mousekat at that. "What?"

The fear on their face made Mousekat soften, somehow. "Oh no, Child, not that name. Your real one. Your killjoy name."

"How? I don't even know that."

"Oh yes you do."

Mousekat put a hand on Their cheek. They leaned into it hesitantly, still not used to the affection shown in the Zones but god they loved it. Then the world turned white.

Then it wasn't. It was exceedingly bright like staring at the sun, or no, more like blinking neon lights. They were in a club and wearing something too revealing and a bit too tight. Then they weren't, they were buzzed and screaming inside but it was a happy scream. They were kissing someone. Were they in a mosh pit? No they're in a car or more like half way in a car, their upper body was out of the skylight. They were singing along to the girl in backseat's bass because the radio was broken. Or maybe they were covered in glitter and kissing someone in a crowded roller skating rink. Or maybe they were high and smoking in the bathroom with Kobra. Or maybe…….

The world was white. And it stayed white. They were holding white pills and pulling them towards their mouth. A flash. It was bright again. They were "having too much to drink, again" said a familiar but unrecognizable voice. Then they were smoking and Jet was the last face they saw before they blacked out. They were puking; Kobra was holding their hair back, the air was thick. The bass girl, who reminded them of a different type of drug, adrenaline, yelled at them "You can't keep almost catching purple after every time you get trigger happy". It was white. They dropped the pills. What?

Mousekat was staring at Them. It was over. A name hung in the air.

"Bye bye, Party Poison," it said as it got up. It faded against the diner as the night sky reappeared.

Party Poison.

The name integrated with the radiation in the air and engraved itself on name bearer's heart.

It felt like hope and freedom.

And it felt like a start.

Chapter Text

Kobra Kid's first dealing with the spirits happened a little under a year into his stay in the desert. Before he started seeing our Lady of Death and Sorrows; before he was stuffed with Phoenix Feathers. At this point he wasn't the Zones best Motorbaby but he was definitely not a beginner.

It was early in the morning. Kobra didn't have a clock to tell the exact time but he knew it was late enough for the sun to be up but early enough for everyone to not be awake yet, just the right time to sneak out. Rainbow Road was a bike track out in Zone 5 or 6 (depends on the day). It was abandoned, so no people, nothing to mess up but himself.

Kobra was fine by himself. No one to piss off, no one to punch, no one to see him cry, no one to make him cry. No one to hurt but himself and it didn't matter what he did to himself because that was just his problem, no one else's. And it wasn't like he was sad or angry or anything, right? He was fine, right?

Right, whatever, there were some dust clouds to make, Kobra told himself. Pedal to the metal. He did laps one after another; made the jumps, made the turns, even jumped off the bike and held onto the handles. He got scrapes, sure, and he drove a little too close to things to draw a little blood but whatever.

Then something happened. It wasn't a crash because he didn't mess up. It wasn't a crash because he didn't collude with anything, on purpose or on accident. It wasn't a crash because he was going straight and he didn't remember falling on the sand. When did it become so bright? Or dim? The sand was rainbow like the tracks name. Maybe this was going Polaroid? Wait no that's frostbite. Whatever.

Kobra looked up. There was a fuzzy pink figure in the middle of the track.

"Shit now I'm hallucinating. Dying 'o heat stroke. Shouldn't 've worn my fucking binder."

The creature seemed to agree. They didn't nod or move; didn't speak or speak in his mind. The creature just did, likes it emotions were traveling through the air and sand.

Kobra got up, his jeans a rainbow of color. He put his sunglasses on top of his head. The sun was as bright as he's ever seen it but it didn't hurt his eyes to look at or make him uncomfortable.

"I mean, you're not real, right? Not the Witch Ghoulie loves so fucking much, not Destroya, and not that weird shit Pois' saw so….. Whatever."

"Mousekat's my sibling actually." They responded. This was a clear statement but it still felt less like telepathy and more like emotions traveling through the air.

Kobra looked at Them in shock,( why did Kobra treat them like a person? The creature was an it but then why did it feel wrong to use "it" for them? Whatever.) "So are you saying you're real?"

This was met with confusion.

"Like, did I just make you up?"

The creature shook their head, the first gesture they've made.

"Mousekat's your sibling? Then whaz 'ur name?"

"Lola." The name seemed to spell itself in the sand.

"I'm Kobra Kid" He straightened himself like this whole ordeal wasn't affecting him.

Lola seemed to walk over but it was slightly off like they didn't need to walk to come over but wanted to fit in to Earth's customs. However, they seemed fast compared to everything else, the rest of the world was in slow motion, Kobra realized as birds slowly flew by. "Hello Kobra Kid," and just as they oddly walked over, they oddly sat down as well.

Kobra Kid hesitated for a moment before sitting across from them. "So wha' do ya wanna tell me,uh? Why are you talking to me? If you'd call this talking."

What they said wasn't a clear statement this time but it roughly translated to "because you're here."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Lola conveyed the feeling that this was their space. Rainbow Road was their track.

"Then sorry I'm on you're turf. I'll leave. Maybe if ya didn't want people ridin' on it should 'a put a freakin' fence up or haunted it."

Kobra was about to get up when Lola put a hand on his shoulder. "No, you can stay. I like the company." It was clear as day.

"Oh," Kobra shifted back and crossed his arms; his eyes looking everywhere but at Lola. "Well I came here to ride, not to talk so maybe you should've talked to me the other million times I've been here." Kobra tried to get back up again and Lola didn't stop him this time. He got on his bike and waited for Lola to walk off the track. They didn't and asked Kobra where'd he put his helmet.

"I didn't bring it, and get off the fuckin' track."

Lola conveyed confusion.

"Ghoulie's GOOD LUCK paint pisses me off."

Lola still seemed confused.

"They love their fucking Witch so fucking much they keep giving me good luck charms instead anything fucking useful."

Lola materialized the helmet in their hand and Kobra Kid felt all of Fun Ghoul's love for him and all of the Witch's blessings. He felt safe. He was Ghoul's older brother, his light at the end of the tunnel. And it was over and his cheeks felt wet and puffy like he'd been crying (maybe he did). He grabbed the helmet, put it on, and raced down the track.

He made a few laps and made a few tricks, and Lola clapped when he did. He felt that they were proud of him.

Kobra started speeding up to impress Lola but one of the turns where too sharp. He bit the dust and suddenly the rainbow sand was covered in blood.

Lola seemed to teleport over and immediately expressed concern.

Kobra swatted at the air, "I'm fine, it's nothing."

Lola pointed at his bleeding knee.

"It's nothing really, I can handle it." Kobra spat back, almost not thinking about it.

Kobra felt a no come from them and Lola sat down next to him. They started working their "zone deity healing magic." But it wasn't healing, more like they were making it so his knee never even got hurt. Time travel but only on his knee.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Kobra asked.

Lola's feelings roughly translated to "Why wouldn't I be nice to you?"

"Because you don't even fucking know me and I was being an asshole to you and…." Kobra let loose an exasperated sigh, "and I'm ain't shit. I don't deserve it."

Lola let him feel like he should be treated nicely.

Kobra through his hands up in the air. "But I'm an asshole!"

"Then stop being an asshole."

Kobra let his arms untense. "Easier said than done."

"Baby steps then."

He didn't know why he thought he owed Lola at least that; to try. "Okay."

Lola finished up on his knee.

"Thank you," he said.

"And you are worth shit," Lola conveyed.

"And why's that?"

Kobra was a great motorbaby, Lola felt, and a great killjoy. He made his friends happy and that had value.

"Oh," Kobra's voice cracked as his eyes began to water. He didn't know how much he needed that.

"They love you." It seemed to ring out against the sky. And suddenly he felt Jet and Poison's love for him. Jet was so fucking proud of him for adjusting to zone life so quickly and for being a resourceful and creative killjoy. Jet loved watching movies with him and helping him fix the trans am. He thought his bleached hair looked good on him and thought that Kobra was going to be the Zone's best Motorbaby.

Party Poison's feelings for Kobra were overwhelming. They weren't cohesive like Jet's. Pois' loved him immensely and was always going to be his older sibling. Their love for him was a bottomless ocean he could never swim to the bottom to.

And he was brought back. Lola was holding him. He didn't remember collapsing.

He let go and looked at Lola's seemingly plastic face. "Thank you." He got up and whipped the tears off his face. He walked back to his bike.

"I'm goin' to go," he looking back at Lola.

Lola let him know he could always welcome back.

"Okay."

Lola vanished and the birds started to fly at a normal pace. The Sun felt hot and the sand was just beige.

He put on his helmet and drove off.

Chapter Text

Fun Ghoul dealt with the dead, the dying, the forever dying, and the never dying like it was easy so naturally his first dealing with the spirits was at a young age. Still, 11 is a pretty young age to meet the Grim Reaper. And on the first day he started learning what the word 'killjoy' ment, no doubt.

Ghoulie didn't have a name yet, she didn't have anything but a raggedy brown teddy bear. She couldn't give you a time of day if she tried because the flames licked the sky and all of its contents, even the sand seemed to burn. The world was collapsing in on itself but it was sadly almost freeing, watching her whole world burn.

It seemed so far away yet so close. Her memories as to why she was here and not aflame only seemed to come in glimpses.

A point to prove.

A trip to Tommy's.

She dropped the cans when the bomb dropped.

It didn't matter anymore.

She just stared. Where's Mommy? Did she come looking for her? Did she die? Where is she? Where's her mom? MOMMY! SHE COULDN'T BE DEAD! NONONONO IT WAS A WHITE BOMB IT WAS A WHITE BOMB

It was a white bomb.

Mommy said that only killjoys bomb neutral towns. Then why was it white? Aren't killjoys filled with color?

Why was she so calm?

Why wasn't she panicking?

Was she panicking?

WAS THIS PANIC?

WHY WAS THE BOMB WHITE?

Then everything stopped. The flames stopped. She realized she was kneeling in a pool of tears. When did she start crying? Why was there feathers floating around her?

"Hello, kid."

She turned his head at hearing the woman's voice and something stood beside her. It was covered in purple feathers with stray ones just floating in the creature's colorful aura. Was it an 'it' or a 'she', she wondered. It didn't matter, the creature was already extremely interesting. She wondered if they stretched their clawed hands if they would have wings; could you take off their mask and see a human face. She ran these questions over and over again in her head. It was a nice distraction from the flames.

The creature seemed to decide that they didn't need an answer back and began talking again.

"I'm the Phoenix Witch if you're wondering. Your neutral town was always a bit more conservative so I'm guessing you don't know me. A bit more BLI centric. Never thought I'd intentionally be visiting here but a little birdy told me I should and now I see why."

To her this was an odd way to introduce yourself. She wondered what 'conservative' meant and whether or not The Phoenix Witch had feet under their feathers.

They sat down beside her and said "I use she/they pronouns by the way."

This statement only made her more confused.

"So what are you?" She finally croaked. "Are you a monster like in fairy tales," she held her teddy bear closer and added a little "are you like me?"

"What does that mean? Am I like you?"

"Are you a burn out kid too? Is this what happens to burn outs that stay in the city? That don't go to neutral towns? Oh OH wait are you a killjoy? I once saw one with acid green hair and always wondered if they were all that abnormal."

"No no no. To all of that. I'm neither of those things and neither of those things could ever look as cool as me."

This made her laugh, it was forced but still, this distraction was working.

"Okay then what are you?"

" I'm a god. Not the God Almighty you're familiar with but I'm a deity. I'm the killjoy Grim Reaper. I take the dead souls of killjoys and sometimes others to the after life."

This made her beam. "OH COOL! So um what does she/they pronouns mean?"

"It means that when you're talking about me you can say 'she's super cool' or 'they're super cool'"

"Oh." She considered this for a moment. "I guess I use she/her."

"You guess." It wasn't a question but it still made Her feel like she needed to answer The Witch. But she didn't have an answer. She shook the idea off.

"What's conservative mean?"

"You gotta a lot of questions."

"Well I haven't been out of my town much. And you're a god. Not the God Almighty."

"Yep, I guess you gotta point. Conservative means close minded or traditional."

"Is that bad?"

"When it keeps the colors out. When it stuffs children with limitations they can't follow. When it hurts."

It was a vague statement but She understood. She's always felt a bit blocked up. She felt dirty. BLI picked at her brains and over medicated her. Then she was thrust into a world where her scars were sinful; her trauma taboo. Her smiley scar, another sign from the devil. She was just the world's play toy. She was made to be lied to and thrown away. A burn out kid. Too creative for their own good.

She dared herself to watch the slow motion flames and cry some more.

It's bad when it hurts.

"The killjoys didn't drop the bomb?"

"No. BLI did."

"Why?"

"Cuz there's no neutrals in the eyes of the bl/ind."

"Then what were we to them?"

"Lab rats. An example."

She was covered in tears. Her whole world was being flooded and burned at the same time. Her lungs were filling up and her skin was being scorched. She was so sick of it. So fucking sick of it. She screamed at the sky like it owed her something.

The Witch put a hand on the back of her neck. "I'm so sorry."

She reached for her and latched herself to The Witch's neck. She sobbed as they made time slowly come back and as the flames slowly died down.

"What does killjoy mean then?" She softy asked into their neck.

"Revolution. Infinity. Color." They wrapped an arm around Her. "Freedom."

"I'd like that."

"Yeah, maybe you would."

She pulled herself away from The Phoenix Witch and looked into their masked eyes.

"So where do I go now?"

"Go to the Mailbox for tonight at least."

"The Mailbox?"

"The Mailbox. It's a place of worship for me. Where killjoys put their masks, their souls for me to guide. Maybe ask Tommy for directions, okay kid?"

"Okay."

"And here, take these," they said as they seemed to reach into a pocket in their feathers. The Witch held out a wooden bead bracelet and started to fasten on Her left wrist.

"What is it?"

"Bad luck beads. They're prayer beads."

"Like a rosary?"

"Yeah, like a rosary but for me. So you can always talk to me even when you find your crew."

"Thank you." She mumbled at The Phoenix Witch faded away, leaving a trail of feathers.

She gathered her teddy bear and walked in the direction to Tommy's, never looking back, as the sky turned a deep purple and the crows gathered their dead.

Chapter Text

Jet Star is a bit of an outlier. It makes sense of course because he never really was the religious type. Not an atheist, just less devout. Jet Star's first talk with one of the gods was 21 years into his stay in the Desert. He had his life figured out, a name, a shelter, a mask, and a crew; but on that day he felt off, like he was waiting for somebody, like he was on the brink of something. Something big.

It was midday and it was hot, scorching hot. Jet Star was fixing up the trans am, he usually didn't do stuff like this, this was more of Kobra's department but him and Ghoulie were out at a derby in Zone 6 (and Pois' is good at shooting, looking pretty and that's it and they know it,) so it was up to them.

The car wouldn't start but Kobra changed the battery not that long ago. And the radio was staticy but when hasn't it? It was probably a bad alternator, couldn't be the battery. They asked themselves if the headlights still worked and remembered that they haven't worked in years and Kobes and Ghoulie have just been taping their spare flashlights to the side of the am. Does spray paint damage cars? Probably not. They didn't have any jumper cables, they let Hot Chimp use them forever ago. Shit. Jet just kept staring at the inside of the hood hoping to find something out of place, maybe he didn't need 'em.

"Need some help?"

"AAAAH!" Jet jumped around, their raygun vaguely pointing at the intruder's head.

As soon as Jet had a good look at the intruder's face, their raygun dropped to the floor. "Holy shit." Their face was uncanny, looked exactly like the giant Destroya head outside of the Nest except smaller and paired with a Hawaiian t-shirt and cargo shorts. Maybe they were a very devoted lobby droid?

"Woah there, cowboy," they said, they sounded ancient. "Just thought you'd like some help."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Don't you recognize me, Star Man."

"I mean, you can't be Destroya. They're buried by the Nest," Jet said, picking up his raygun and putting it back in its holster.

"Yes but aren't I a god? I'm a little fuzzy around the edges. I don't really follow your standard human existence rules."

"Yeah, yeah I guess." It still didn't make sense to Jet. What was he doing here? What was Destroya doing in his garage wearing socks and sandals? Why was Destroya giving him car repair advice?

"Here let me help." Destroya then flicked the engine. "There, try now."

Jet didn't know how that was supposed to help but Destroya was a god so he just kind of had to trust he had super powers or something; he was astral projecting after all. Jet got in the car and put the keys in and turned. The engine sounded better than it had in years.

"Shiny!" Jet exclaimed as they turned the am off and jumped out of the car. "That's mega! Thank you!"

Jet was about to pat them on the shoulder when he hesitated.

"Its okay. I'm not that serious of a god," Destroya said, eyeing the rest of the garage. "You got beer?"

"Uh, yeah, somewhere."

Jet desperately tried to keep his fucking cool while he got the last few beers from the back room of the diner, (Ghoulie's gonna be pissed, he thought), and met Destroya (fucking Destroya!) outside, leaning against the trans am.

They both stared at the horizon for a few moments, not really not what to say, before Jet reached for their radio and tuned into WKIL. Madonna's Like a Prayer was on. Show Pony must have been DJing and Pois', wherever they were, was probably ecstatic. Eventually, Destroya started humming along.

"You like Madonna?"

"Sure. Not as much as I like Tears for Fears"

Jet giggled at this.

"Who wants to rule the world is my worship song, you know."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Cool," Jet paused. "I think mine would be Space Oddity."

"Course, you wannabe Bowie Band Aid."

Jet Star lost it at that. They weren't sure if it was because it was actually that funny or if it was the built up awkward tension or both but he lost it; just big HAHAHAs. Leaning on the am, they wiped the tears from their eyes and placed a hand on Destroya's shoulder.

"So do you do this all the time? Just hang out with 'joys until the fateful day you recharge or…"

"Maybe, for the most part but I got something special for you."

Jet put their beer down on trans am. They stared at Destroya waiting for them to elaborate. Destroya's eyes were like miniature black holes and in that moment something shifted. Nothing obvious or physical, it was just like the fact that he was talking to a god finally set in Jet's stomach. Madonna's words rang out clearer.

In the midnight hour I can feel your power
Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

"What is it?" Jet mumbled.

"At noon tomorrow, go to the edge of Zone 1 and 2. You'll find a child."

"A child?"

"A child, a little sandpup. They will become more than you'll ever know, Jet. More important and godly than me. They will help me burn Batt City to ashes."

Jet nodded his head. "Okay. Is this why you've been waiting all this time or are you really just recharging?"

"What's the difference?"

Destroya took one last sip from their beer and started walking away, towards the sun, and Jet started after them.

"Hey where are you going!?"

Destroya stopped and turned around. "Nowhere. You heard everything you needed to hear. Oh, and uh, show Mad Gear the child. He'll be happy to see Missile Kid."

"What?"

Then Destroya vanished.

Like a Prayer seemed to fade out or maybe it was the static.