FernStone
NoriWasHere
Antlers
Estylwen
TokyoPewPew
Framing A Moose
Cao the Exiled
Raijinslayer
Mixtape Ghost N
AtomicEmperor
Marco closed the door and pressed his head against it. “Shit,” he thought to himself. His princess powers were on full display, and he had to debrief the civilian, and then walk home in this outfit through the South Side. There was a new season of his favorite game coming out in an hour or so as well so the longer this took the less time he would have today to game. He would have to be quick. Vin would help with this. They could good cop, bad cop this civilian. He looked towards Vin and gave them a wink.
Marco turned around and placed his hands on his hip, and accidentally flexed his pec muscles right towards Paloma causing them to dance. “We’re not going to be long, we just want to know what you know. Listen, we’re all friends here after that messed up situation, right?”
Friends? Paloma thought the two of them being friends was a great starting point just as long as they didn’t get stuck there. It was a bit difficult to respond with her being unable to close her mouth , so she just nodded. Yes, they were all friends here. Well, Vin was technically now her minion, but she was an amiable overlord.
”Speak for yourself, sparkly asshole,” Vin rolled their eyes at him. Friends? As if. They didn’t get the hint from the wink… but thankfully for Marco, they were naturally a bad cop. ”Getting my leg torn off didn’t make me feel any fucking friendlier.”
They tilted their head back to look down at Paloma, eyes narrowing. The heels actually made it easier, seeing as they were barely an inch taller than her… didn’t make the outfit any better. It did fit their body well. The short skirt was flattering, showing off curves they normally kept hidden- aside from the days they felt feminine and wore skirts of similar lengths. But then it was a choice. They folded their arms across their chest. The lithe but well defined muscles of their forearms flexed as their fists clenched.
”What the fuck did you want with David Smith that was so important you shoved yourself into a dangerous situation? I think I deserve a fucking explanation after I risked my ass holding back on that thing.”
Paloma was finally able to close her mouth as Vin’s insistence for an explanation made her grimace, her head retreating back into her body like a turtle into its shell as Vin stared down at her. Vin was right, they totally did deserve an explanation–in private. Not that Marco would rat her out or anything, after all they were now friends, but who knew if the room was bugged or if that wall overthere was secretly a very high-tech, very well-hidden one-way mirror. Once they were out of here she would totally dish, and hopefully in return Vin would tell Paloma their arm routine.
“But I already told you earlier, Vin,” said Paloma. She paused, at first seemingly for dramatic effect, and then because she had forgotten what lame excuse she’d given Vin and the others earlier when they’d asked what she was doing getting involved in their business. Stupid, sexy arms. Stupid, jealousy inducing pecs. Paloma blinked rapidly. No, wait, something got flipped around there. Whatev–oh, right, that’s what she had said!
“I’m his neighbor?” she said, unintentionally making it sound like a question as she raised an eyebrow and gave a smarmy smile. Yeah, nobody would buy that. Paloma quickly waved her hands in front of her, trying to erase the shit lie. “What I meant is, I was his neighbor. Before. In the past. Just happened to be in the area and decided to drop off some leftover cupcakes from work.”
Paloma snapped her head towards Marco with such speed it was a surprise she didn’t break her neck on the spot, “I work at the hospital. GSN. Is that the one you’re at?”
“I work at the….” Marco sighed as he knew what would follow this revelation, “at the children’s hospital. Cloverfield Children’s,” he paused as he smiled, “I do a week straight at the hospital and then I work down in the clinic over on broad street.”
Fuck those kids! Paloma twisted the narrowing of her eyes into the batting of her eyelashes.
“I have so much respect for pediatricians. I actually work with children myself sometimes,” she said. Technically true. She sometimes cleaned their rooms. “ But wow, it sounds like you’re so busy. I’ve never done a week straight. Do you have to work today? When do you have time off?”
”Oy,” Vin cut through her questioning, eyes narrowing. They didn't believe that she'd been his neighbour for one moment- who was so insistent on giving a neighbour a cupcake they'd push through gang members? And offer said cupcake to them to talk to him? But… for once, they thought about it. They'd offered to help, she'd accepted. So she'd have to tell them. It'd be easier for them to intimidate her when Mr. Sexy Chest wasn't around. ”You ain't here to ask him on a date. Or ask the questions at all.”
They decided to change tactic slightly. ”You talked as if you knew what that thing was? How?”
”I'm a dungeon master. Do you play?’ asked Paloma.
A… dungeon master? Like, BDSM kind of shit? She had a sex dungeon she was the master of? Her. Vin tilted their head. ”No. Y'think just cause I'm in a gang I'm into that kinda kinky shit?”
“Oh Vin, no,” Marco mustered the courage to say despite his desire to laugh, “she means dungeons and dragons. How did that help you know what that thing was?”
Dungeons and dragons? Vin wasn’t any less confused. So she enjoyed domination dragons?
”I mean, they're a pretty common monster in most of the modules I run. Everything else I’d read from the monster manual. I have the book in my room. I can show it to you later,” said Paloma with a wink. She didn't mean the book. She gestured at Marco’s sailor scout uniform. “Obviously you're into cosplay. Do you also like to roleplay?”
“Cosplay? Roleplay,” Marco stammered out as he looked down at his princess fit, “I do like larping so yes. That’s what you were asking when talking about roleplay, right Paloma?”
No, that wasn’t what Paloma was talking about at all. Paloma had shifted her eyes away from Marco the moment he mentioned LARPing and locked gazes with Vin, passing on an icy look of condescension. Strike one.
“Not exactly, but I supposed it counts. I never LARPed before. I’m strictly tabletop. What do you like about it?” asked Paloma. As long as Marco wasn’t just into it so he could beat the shit out of someone with a fake sword then perhaps she could restrain her judgment.
“Oh, what’s not to like? The costumes, the socialization, the drinking at the bars afterward,” he paused as he chuckled, “it also counts as a paid volunteer event with the clinic, something about having a doctor on the playing field when people beat the crap out of each other making the event safer,” he paused as he leaned forward. He knew this girl caught his pec dance earlier, and she seemed to respond well to it, maybe if he did it again she would tell him everything she knew without further deflection. “Hey,” he paused as he flexed the muscles, “tell us more about why you were there. What drove you into the building with the monster? How did it avoid killing you?” He made his pecs dance again.
Paloma tugged at her collar as the mental umpire retracted its previous call. Jesus, this room was hot, but the line of questioning made it uncomfortably so. There were some things best kept secret. The Samaritan was one of them.
“Look at me,” said Paloma, countering the muscle exhibition with a little play of her own. She turned up her chin, widened her eyes, and batted her lashes. Was that a tear lingering near the precipice of her lid or just a trick of the light? She clasped her hands together behind her back and swayed softly. “Who would want to kill little old me?”
*bounce*
“I’m sure not one person would want to kill you on purpose,” Marco started, “but that wasn’t a person. Far from it.”
”I kind of want to kill you both right now,” Vin intoned, having been forced to watch whatever this was for far too long. Their dark eyes moved to Paloma. ”Your Apparition protected you, didn’t it?”
“No, you protected me. Remember?” said Paloma, meeting Vin’s eyes and not looking away.
Vin stared right back unflinchingly. ”Not when I was thrown against the wall and it tried its best to kill you.”
Though, it was pretty clear from what little they knew of her that she’d just double down and insist that it was all Vin, and not her Apparition. Which, fine. That wasn’t what was important. They’d rather move on from it so they could spend less time dealing with her annoying ass. ”Marco’s right. It wasn’t a person. It was an Apparition- maybe a doppelganger’s the specific type. It was a lot more interested in you than me… Why?”
“Sounds like a question we should ask the doppelganger,” said Paloma with an unintentional bit of bite in her tone. “Too bad it’s dead.”
”You wanna experience gettin’ your leg ripped in half?” Vin’s lips pulled back into a sharp toothed sneer. It was an empty threat- the boss would have their head if they laid a hand on a civilian. ”It ain’t fun. Try keepin’ whatever did that to you alive.”
“Well I just don’t know why you two keep asking me questions I can’t answer. I’m happy to help out, but it’s starting to feel like I’m being interrogated,” said Paloma. “Am I in trouble? I didn’t tell that guy to jump in front of me.”
”If you had, you’d already be dead. We ain’t stupid, we know Caleb tried to protect you,” Vin frowned, looking over at Marco. This was an interrogation- and they weren’t good enough with words to make some shit up to pretend it wasn’t. That was his job.
“That’s why we figured we’d ask a few questions. We lost one of our own, brutally might I add. It’s only natural that we see what you know which is apparently nothing,” Marcos tone was slightly coarse, “I don’t have much more to ask. Vin?”
Vin narrowed their eyes suspiciously at Paloma. There was definitely some shit she wasn’t telling them… but they didn’t know how to get it out of her without violence. Was why she was there that important? Probably not, they were more interested in the thing they’d fought… the doppelganger. But if her information came from some kind of cosplay roleplay game? It was useless.
”No. If she ain’t gonna talk, she ain’t gonna talk.” They narrowed their eyes at Paloma. ”You’re lucky the boss don’t like us hurtin’ normal people.”
“You were just at the wrong place, at the wrong time,” Marco sighed, “anyway for your trouble we’ll cover your lunch and any fare to get back home. As well,” Marco paused as he wrote down the number for the Hollow on a piece of paper, “if anything like that pops up on your radar you give us a call. Understand?”
”Oh, you don't have to do that,” said Paloma about the offer for money, lying through her teeth. She'd happily pocket any extra cash they threw her way, but she definitely wouldn't use it on a ride share. She was pretty certain Uber didn't pick up around here anyway. Her eyes lit up as Marco handed her a phone number, the hope (or perhaps hopelessness) evident in her voice as it squeaked to new heights. ”Is this your number?”
“It is,” he paused, “a number that I can be reached at, yes.”
”Okay! Lemme text you so you can have mine,” said Paloma, pounding out the digits she had already memorized with quick efficiency while failing to consider what he had actually said. She stared dejectedly as the message failed to send, then glanced up at Marco. She pointed at the piece of paper. “That is a four, right?”
Doctor’s handwriting. That must've been it.
Vin let out a short laugh, answering for Marco. Their lips pulled up into an evil smile as they side eyed the man who’d taken convincing to save their fucking life. ”It ain’t his number, it’s the Hollow’s. He’s too much of a pussy to give you his personal one!”
“Well. That explains the stupid skirt,” said Paloma with a bit of bite in her voice, lowering her brow and passing along her own wicked smirk to Vin. Then her face brightened. “Just kidding! Oh, speaking of pussies–Vin.”
There was a deliberately longer-than-needed pause before Paloma wagged a pen at her and started writing some numbers on the back of the note Marco had passed her. She held the piece of paper out for Vin and cooed out in a grating, nails-on-chalkboard baby voice, “Here’s my number for my favo-wite widdle pussycat.” She dropped the accent and sprung the trap that Vin had accidentally set for themself. “Can I have yours?”
”Ugh.” Vin didn't bother to hide their annoyance, but they still snatched the paper from Paloma's fingers. They had technically offered to help her… as much as it'd been an offer to look good in front of the boss. But as much as she got on their nerves, Vin had to give her some credit for the way she didn't back down at all… ”Fine, just don't use that fuckin’ voice, I got sensitive cat ears… and don't call me that.”
Instead of going for the written method, because their handwriting was garbage, Vin pulled out their phone. An old, battered flip phone that looked like it'd seen way better days. They swiftly typed in Paloma's number before sending a text… Very short and to the point, they literally texted her
Vin. ”There. Don't expect fast responses, unless it's an emergency.”
“Mhm, mhm. Smile!” Paloma’s phone flashed before the word was even fully out of her mouth. “Oh, that’s gonna be such a cute contact photo. Lemme send it to you.”
Vin’s phone vibrated, but instead of the photo is was just a text:
meet me outside“So, I’m free to go?” asked Paloma.
Moments Later...Ideally, Vin would’ve had a couple of drinks at the bar and left when Paloma was long gone. They could’ve just ran while she collected her compensation. It would’ve been easier… but they had to know what the fuck is was she wanted to say that required that kinda secrecy.
So they waited outside for Paloma to get their promised travel fare (ridiculous considering taxi services didn’t run in most of the South). They moved a bit around from the entrance, pulling a cigarette and their lighter out of their coat. It was a habit they’d mostly broken since Loni moved back in- not wanting even a whiff of smoke around Luciana- but sometimes they needed it.
Like right now, to deal with this annoying woman for any longer.
Paloma left the bar with a fistful of dollars tucked inside the breast pocket of an oversized peacoat left behind and likely forgotten by a former patron that the Hollow had so graciously let her borrow. Her face lit up when she saw that Vin had actually waited for her, giving her new cohort an unnecessarily energetic wave that quickly morphed into her swatting away a cloud of smoke as she jaunted over. Paloma swallowed the reactive cough and held back her disparaging comments about smoking. Paloma didn’t want to chastise her new minion, partially because she was an understanding overlord and partially because she had an ulterior motive–after what had happened to the last batch of friends, Paloma was in desperate need of some replacements.
“Come here often? Y’know, it’s dangerous for such a cutie to be alone out here, even in broad daylight,” said Paloma, indicating with her eyes that she was trying to move away from the Hollow. “Walk you home?”
Paloma began to move in the direction of Jungleland and stopped at the crosswalk. She turned around and looked to make sure that one, Vin was actually following her, and two, that nobody else from the Hollow was coming outside for a casual smoke and a naughty attempt at eavesdropping. Paloma turned to Vin when she verified both conditions, the red stop hand on the crosswalk signal turning into a little green person as she gave her new confidant a cheeky little smile.
“Can you keep a secret?” asked Paloma, lifting her hand to her corner of her mouth to whisper. “I never was Mr. Smith’s neighbor. Can you believe that hot idiot bought it?”
Vin let out a short, mocking laugh. They tilted their head away from Paloma to blow smoke into the air, before dropping the mostly done cigarette onto the ground and crushing it into the ground with the ball of their magical girl heels. ”Course, Marco's all book smart, he ain't street smart. He'd believe anythin'.”
Of course, Marco probably hadn't believed it, but Vin was happy to throw their fellow gang member under the bus for the moment. He had pissed them off a little. Thankfully Paloma seemed to live in the same initial direction as them. Not that they'd let her ‘walk them home', but it'd be annoying to have to go too far out of their way to find out what she had to say. The real reason she went to talk to Mr Smith.
”If I couldn't keep a secret I'd be dead,” Vin confirmed bluntly. It was true. Gideon didn't take well to members who spread Hollow secrets, and they'd seen what happened to those that did. It hadn't been pretty. At the time they had wished they were the one to torture them for it, though… ”And I ain't. So spit it out. What's the real reason you were there? I ain't buying the wrong place wrong time bullshit. I risked my life tryna subdue that thing rather than just fuckin' killing it.”
“I’m trying to find out some information about a kid. You know how I said I work in a hospital? I do actually, it’s just that I clean them,” said Paloma, her nose wrinkling. It wasn’t as if she found no satisfaction in her job, but there was still a small part of her that was ashamed of being nothing more than a cleaning lady. There were only so many times Paloma could hear someone else “oh” in disappointment when they found out the truth after assuming she was a nurse before becoming disappointed herself.
“It’s not hard work once you get used to the 3 B’s–that’s blood, bile, bowel movements, but it’s that secret fourth B, boredom, that’ll get ya. Same goes for the patients. Even the ones who have people come to visit are still pretty lonely most of the time, and most people rarely have visitors. Since I was usually done with my cleaning early, I got in the habit of chatting with the patients. I wasn’t supposed to–cleaning staff should be invisible–but they never told the admins. I’m good company,” bragged Paloma, spinning around and walking backwards as they crossed the street to look at Vin face to face. She held up one finger. “Plus, I told them that if anybody ratted me out that I had the keys and I’d sneak into their room and smother them with a pillow when they were asleep.”
“Just kidding! I didn’t have the keys…” muttered Paloma, spinning back around. “So one of the patients I was friendly with was this little girl. I felt really bad for her. She never had any visitors, and the floor I cleaned…um…it wasn’t a fun floor for a kid to be on. She, uh, she, um…”
Paloma stopped as she felt a crushing weight on her chest. She rubbed her forearms, winced, and then looked back at Vin with a forced smile.
“Anyway, she actually had one visitor. Somebody named David Smith. Turns out there’s, like, a million David Smith’s living in Cloverfield, and he might not even be from here. Might not even be his real name. Might not even be a guy. But I’m going to find him, because I–” Promised? Paloma grimaced. “Because I need to. May I have a cigarette?”
”Sure.” Vin pulled out another cigarette and handed it over surprisingly easily, lighting it on the way over. Their expression was one of muted disbelief. Was that really the reason? She'd pushed her way past Gideon's men- people everyone in the South knew were dangerous- to find a man some little girl had known.
Seemed ridiculous.
”Y’should consider a career change. We work with the three B’s too- but that fourth one's never a problem.” Vin's lips pulled back into a sharp toothed smile, before laughing. Of course there was no way someone like her could work for the Hollow. Too nice, not enough muscle. But they certainly didn't react badly to her just being a cleaner. Quite frankly, they didn't care and couldn't judge. They'd barely finished highschool. Their whole ‘career’ was beating people up.
They shoved one hand in their pocket as they considered the ‘revelation’ a bit more, staring at Paloma as they waited for her to keep walking. After all, they were basically walking her home at this point… until they had to go in different directions. ”So… you're telling me you got friendly with some little girl and you gotta find her one visitor. So what, I help you by going and beating up every David Smith in the city? I can do that real easy… but…”
Vin's eyes narrowed. ”Hate to break it to you, that was probably the right David. Who'd visit a girl like that? A relative, or a teacher- which he was. Unless this is some kinda revenge thing and the guy you're lookin' for is a pedophile… which’d explain the secrecy. Cause I ain't sure I believe you'd put yourself in danger like that hunting for some sick girl’s visitor.”
“It’s not some revenge thing, and I didn’t put myself in danger,” said Paloma briskly, blowing out a sigh of smoke. The cigarette was the most dangerous thing she’d done all day. A coma had been a good way to go cold turkey. She turned to continue on, hiding the look of concern on her face that Vin was right. Maybe she would have to go about learning Room 513’s identity another way. Hopefully, Vin's offer to beat people up extended beyond those named David Smith.
“Why’d you put yourself in danger? Does Gideon pay that well?” asked Paloma, tilting her head towards Vin. “Or is what people say about him true? Blink twice if you need me to rescue you.”
Vin snorted, managing to stare unblinkingly at Paloma for longer than should be possible. ”Everything they say is true… And he pays that well. Far better than most would pay a violent highschool dropout.”
They weren't too bothered about sharing that. It wasn't exactly an uncommon story in the South Side. They were just lucky to have enough magical talent that Gideon saw something in them a few years ago. Otherwise, they'd be as dead as everyone else who committed crimes on his territory. Now they made far more money than they had stealing people's wallets after beating them into the ground. More than enough they could live in a nicer area… if they didn't have a young niece and a compulsive spender sister.
”I enjoy it. Nothin' feels better than getting rid of somethin' that could kill you,” Vin shrugged, very casually saying that they got a thrill from the near death fights. Though today had been a little too close. ”But this ain't about me. What're you gonna do when find the right fuckin' David- if it wasn't the one that's already dead? Whatever questions you got you're gonna have to ask in front of me, so may as well spit ‘em out now.”
“I’ll ask him if he knows the girl’s name, and where she lived, and if she had family. Maybe he’ll know where they buried her if he’s a relative. I’ll ask him if the Grove was just some silly thing made up by a sick child,” said Paloma. “My turn, tiger. You ever get rid of something other than those Apparition things?”
The look in Paloma’s eyes wasn’t of judgment but curiosity. “You know what I mean. What’s it like?”
The Grove? That seemed vaguely familiar? Was it a coven? No, if Paloma said it was something made up by a child… that must be it! It was in one of those picture books they'd read to Luciana. It was a shame Paloma wanted to know other things about the kid, otherwise Vin could've just found it and shown her that it was something made up. But it was fine, so long as they got some fights out of the deal.
”Why, wanna try your hand at it?” Vin taunted, raising their hand. Though they'd been magically healed, the Doppelgangers blood was still stubbornly underneath their nails. ”I’ve gotten rid of plenty… The boss says kill, I kill. It's work. The fight is thrilling, you get over the death after the first few times. It's different when it's not work.”
They tilted their head, trying to remember the first person they killed without an order. Ah, yes. The piece of shit that abandoned their pregnant sister. Their lips curved into a menacing smile. ”Now that's fun. Especially when they beg for mercy. You're in complete control.”
Perhaps it was dangerous to be so open with a stranger. But Vin knew they were safe. The police couldn't touch the Hollow, and it was her word versus there's. ”I’ve never killed someone that wasn't a piece of shit.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?” asked Paloma. It might've been an accusation that implied she believed Vin was secretly guilt ridden, but Paloma looked almost as amused.
”No, it’s what I tell others to make ‘em feel a lil less terrified around me,” Vin laughed. While they’d never chosen to kill someone who hadn’t already hurt someone- namely Loni- it didn’t mean they hadn’t killed ‘innocent’ people for Gideon. They didn’t care. Anyone who wasn’t their family- Loni, Luciana and the Hollow- didn’t matter. Their lives were worthless. ”It ain’t fun if they get all nervous… I’ll give you that. You’re annoyin’ as fuck, but you ain’t a coward.”
“Thank you?” said Paloma.
She was uncertain if it was actually a compliment and definitely certain that Vin was incorrect. Paloma was actually a coward. She just had other things to be afraid of these days then thugs and monsters. Paloma crushed the cigarette under her shoe and gave Vin a discerning look. It was rare for an actual killer to admit to it, or at least Paloma assumed it was. What wasn't so rare was a young gangster trying to act more dangerous than they actually were.
“It must be nice not having to deal with the guilt. I still lose sleep over small little things I've done years ago to total strangers. It's part of the reason I started working nights. If I'm not gonna sleep then I might as well make some money,” said Paloma.
”Just care less,” Vin responded bluntly, as if that would easily solve all of Paloma’s problems. Of course, they didn’t know what those problems were. Didn’t care either. What was so bad she was losing sleep? There had been her scars. That would be kind of reasonable. Not that they cared. ”Fuck anyone you ain’t close to. It’s freeing.”
They frowned, looking to the left. They were getting to a crossroads… and he didn’t imagine she’d be turning into the rougher areas. ”Anythin’ else I gotta know, besides beating up every David Smith in the city?”
The unlikely duo paused at the edge of the sidewalk, clearly about to go their separate ways. Someone who was on Gideon’s payroll definitely wouldn’t live on some shithole block. Was there anything else Paloma needed to tell Vin? The responsible thing might be to mention that if they ever ran into a weird doppelganger again that Vin wouldn’t have to worry about protecting Paloma so that they could avoid another Caleb situation. Vin could’ve died, too. Paloma would feel horrible if something happened to her shiny new toy before she got to play with it. Then again, she could always just follow Vin’s advice: just care less. She was just scared of what that person would be like. She already cared so little.
Paloma made a face as if she was in deep contemplation, and then gestured at Vin from top to bottom.
“Only that maybe y’should consider a career change if you ever get tired of whacking people. This is a great look for you already, but I mean, this outfit on a big, buff catgirl? Me~ow. You’d make a killing in the niche fetish market,” teased Paloma as she stuck out her tongue. “See you around, tiger.”
The red hand turned into a green man and Paloma stepped off the curb. It was the last crossing signal that worked before one descended into Jungleland, not that anybody would have respected them if they had been fixed inside that particular neck of the South Side. Assumptions were made quickly about those who stood still on a corner and accusations were thrown fast about encroaching on someone else’s territory. Streets over here were scurried across with hardly a glance out for traffic, because roadkill had better opportunities in life then those stuck in Jungleland and most cars drove through the pot-holed ridden streets so recklessly in their rush to get out the jaywalker wouldn’t even see them coming.
“Oh, awk-warrrrd,” said Paloma with a light laugh as she noticed that Vin was still heading in the same direction as her. “Isn’t it just the worst when this happens?”
”It is.” Vin narrowed their eyes at Paloma, looking a bit irritated. So she lived in Jungleland too… annoying for her to be so close, but the destitute area had plenty of apartment blocks. It needed to when it fit most of the city's poorest. Living in this shithole was the only reason Vin could afford an apartment big enough for three on their paycheck… because they couldn't depend on Loni to remember to contribute. It was just easier to cover shit themselves and ask her for bill money after…
Not wanting to spend any more time with Paloma than necessary, or risk more talking- especially after that fetish comment- Vin pushed forward onto the ‘main’ road in Jungleland. It was only the main road because it cut through the middle of the area, and occasionally people not from there had to drive through it. It wasn't like it had any less potholes. They had to turn off it quite early, into the more winding, narrow streets that made up the majority of the district.
But only a few steps down they got the creeping feeling of someone's eyes on their back. Not any of the junkies lying in various side alleys or right on the sidewalk. They looked at them in a way that Vin barely felt. Not a threat.
They stopped, turning around to see Paloma following them. No… Going in the same direction. What a fucking pain. Surely it wouldn't be for much longer. Hopefully she lived not far into this street… and not near them. ”Wow. You go down here and haven't been stabbed yet?”
“Oh, please,” said Paloma, rushing to catch back up. “Who would want to stab me? Everybody knows that nobody around here has anything worth taking. It’s the guys in white vans you gotta worry about.” The heads of the junkies turned as she passed. One lifted their hand up as if to beg, but gave her a friendly, toothless wave instead. Paloma turned sharply on her heels as she overtook Vin.
“I lived here just about my whole life. Trouble can’t catch you if you don’t slow down for it.” Paloma turned sharply around the corner, her head popping out from behind the brownstone. “Okay, later for real!”
Vin would have a moment of peace to walk alone until they rounded the block as an unimposing figure leapt out of an alleyway. “Are you stalking me?”
Vin's immediate reaction at getting jumped was to swing. Their clenched fist shot right for Paloma's face. But as it got near it was like an invisible force pushed them, shifting their body and fist so it slammed into the wall beside her. Bang! A dent was left behind where Vin had punched. They pulled their fist back, knuckles scraped and lightly bleeding, without even a grimace.
”I see… That's why you weren't scared.” They stared down at Paloma with dark eyes, swirling depths of Apathy. A fizzle of Black Lux, before it was gone. ”I ain't stalkin' you, you ain't worth the effort. Your lil ghost almost is… Maybe in a few years.”
Paloma had flinched despite knowing that the punch wouldn’t connect, throwing up her arms to cover herself. She lowered her hands, unable to hold back a little smirk as she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Sorry for scaring you. Are you hurt? Want me to kiss your boo-boo?”
”Do I look hurt,” Vin rolled their eyes. Their scraped hand moved up towards Paloma in a sharp movement, as if they were about to slap her. Instead it got redirected again and hit into their own leg. Satisfied with the test, they shoved their hands into their pockets. ”Keep your lips away from me… I know you’ve been strugglin’ to hold back since you saw me.”
They pushed past Paloma, avoiding actually touching her and thus getting redirected. The sooner they got home the sooner they got away from her… But as they continued, they could sense they were being followed. The whole time. Closer and closer to Evergreen Apartment Complex.
Vin stopped again, spinning around and pointing a finger at Paloma. ”Now you’re the one followin’ me. Quit it. I know you’ve been tryna flirt with me, but I ain’t leadin’ you back to my home.”
“In spite of all of my swagger and charm? I see, you’re one of those take-me-out-to-dinner-first types. I can respect that,” said Paloma, pretending to look disappointed. “But I’m not following you, I’m trying to keep up with you but you're just walking too fast. It’s like you’re running away from me. I think it’s nice to have the company, don’t you?”
Paloma didn’t give Vin a chance to answer. She had only known them for a few hours but she was pretty sure she could guess what Vin would’ve said. “Besides you’re nearly done with me. I live there.”
She pointed to a large apartment building at the end of the block, trash piling up outside of a courtyard below basketball shoes chucked over telephone lines. Bars blocked the windows all around the first floor of the building and an old man in a bathrobe was having some kind of philosophical debate with a graffitied rocking horse attached to a rusty spring, the last usable part of what had once been a pretty sick playground. Its bones still littered the courtyard: broken chains hanging from what had once been a swing set that clacked together noisily like a ghetto wind chime whenever it was breezy, the jungle gym burnt down in some kind of fire leaving behind nothing but a crisp steel frame, a pole that had once supported the basketball hop now fallen over and caught up a chain link fence.
Someone had finally broken off that round spinning thing designed to make children throw up from its base and had flipped it over, converting the playground equipment into a rusty table. That was good. It’d be nice to have somewhere to picnic when the weather was warmer. Paloma drifted past Vin with her hands held behind her back, humming a little melody to herself. She was happy to be home. Her feet were absolutely killing her. She should’ve asked Vin to carry her piggyback style–or maybe have actually used Marco’s money and cut down some of the walking with a cab ride. She turned slowly back towards Vin, unable to resist the temptation to provoke her one more time.
“You know, I’m actually pretty handy in the kitchen. I could maybe make us a din–what? What’s wrong?” asked Paloma as she caught Vin’s troubled expression. “Are you actually hurt? I have painkillers inside. Good ones, too.”
Vin wished it was that they were actually hurt. Maybe they should just say they were, go into Paloma's apartment and then pretend they lived in a different building. Would that work? It'd be easier to just pretend that right now. But what if they bumped into her in the future. Or she bumped into Loni?!
”I live here.” They went with the blunt truth. Lying had never been their strong suit. They relied on intimidation and brute strength to get rid of people… neither of which worked on her. It was like they'd met their match- their sickly sweet, irritating match. They had a sinking feeling they were going to be seeing an awful lot more of her.
As if to prove their point, they pulled out their keys - not that it was necessary for the exterior door. The lock had been broken for almost ten years. They remembered exactly when it happened, cause they'd been the one to break it. Of course, no adults had known at the time. They'd threatened all the other kids in their group at the time. It wasn't their fault it couldn't take more than a few kicks…
”I ain't comin' round for food. I ain't comin' round at all. We’re gonna pretend we don't live in the same fuckin' block.” Vin grunted, while holding open the door for Paloma like they were an absolute gentleman rather than just trying to make sure she went up the stairs first and didn't follow them all the way to their apartment. ”We ain't becomin' friendly neighbours or some shit. Not that you're findin' out what floor I'm on.”
“Okay, okay. I think I can take the hint,” said Paloma, her shoulders sinking as she sulked up the steps. Clearly all of this was a sign from fate that they were meant to be friends, but Vin didn’t seem to feel the same way. Not yet anyway, and there was nothing Paloma could do to change that. At least, nothing she was willing to do. “Sheesh, I was just playing around anyway. Later, tiger.”
Paloma climbed the six flights of steps up to the top floor, glaring at the elevator that had been out-of-order for three years and counting. She let out a little groan as she noticed the metal door leading into her apartment hall was closed, the wedge that kept the door from closing kicked to the side. Like the front door and the elevator, this door was broken too, making it impossible to open up from the stairwell when it was closed. She tested it anyway. Maybe they’d finally fixed it? Nope. She didn’t even try banging on it. Nobody ever responded despite how annoying of a sound it made. She’d just have to wait until someone left. Paloma sat down on the top of the landing, rested her elbows on her knees, and propped up her chin.
“Well, well, well. Look, it’s not what you think, so don’t even start,” said Paloma as Vin appeared on the flight below her. She popped her thumb out towards the door and then patted the spot on the step next to her. “We’re locked out. Might as well get cozy.”
Vin just stared at her for a moment with a hint of exhaustion. Of course she lived on the same floor as them. They were only thankful they hadn't bumped into each other before now… or perhaps they had, and Vin had ignored her. Didn't matter.
Either way, they weren't getting stuck out here until one of the lazy assholes still in their apartment decided to drag their sorry ass outside. ”Ugh. No thanks.”
They walked up the last few steps, boots stamping right past where Paloma had patted. Then their jacket was discarded on the ground next to them. Thankfully it had been long enough they could feel the Lux pumping through their veins again. Cracks echoed through the dim stairwell as their legs grew and transformed. Striped fur once again covered their more overtly muscular arms. The magical girl outfit grew enough to not rip, but ended up looking more like a crop top and miniskirt combination. Their tail awkwardly flicked around underneath the bright pink skirt.
CRASH.
A single foot kicked through the door. It had swung wide open, a large dent in the metal causing it to crumple into itself. There was no risk of it locking closed anymore… because there was no way it could properly shut. Vin lowered their leg, quickly returning to their normal form. They turned, still sharp teeth grinning at Paloma.
”No need to thank me.” They gestured towards the crumpled door with their head. They were incredibly pleased with their work… and finally having an excuse to destroy the door their sister had been locked outside multiple times. ”Looks better like this, don't it? Y'know they fixed it four years back, then it broke again within the month.”
“All I know is that we found it like this if anyone asks,” said Paloma with a wink, handing Vin their jacket. Paloma put her hand on the ruined door and mimed as if she were holding it open for Vin, gesturing broadly with a slight bow. “After you, sir. It doesn’t matter if I know where you live now because at this rate I’m fairly certain that we’ve secretly been roommates without realizing it for years. At least I finally now know who keeps nibbling on all the things in my pantry. I was worried there was a mouse.”
Vin actually laughed at that, pulling their jacket back on to cover up the awful magical girl outfit. Paloma was strange. Incredibly irritating when acting sickly sweet, but not so awful when talking like this. ”Unless you're aboutta peel off your skin and reveal you've been my sister all along, we ain't. Mice might've been ours tho- I scared a bunch've em outta our place a while back. I s'pose I can give you some of my fur if you want rid of 'em too.”
They sauntered down the corridor all the way to the other end. The apartments down there were slightly bigger - two bedrooms, that was. A ‘luxury’ they'd been able to afford thanks to the Hollow money, going from the smaller one they'd grown up in to this one when Loni moved back in. As they pulled out their keys, they turned to look back at Paloma.
”I’ll see ya when you next need someone beat up, neighbour.”
“Well, the people in 603 can be a bit noisy sometimes, so…” Paloma chuckled as she leaned out of her doorway. “Later, Vin.”
There would be a rapid knock on Vin’s door only a few minutes later, but there was nobody in the hall. Instead there was a cheap piece of tupperware sitting on the floor outside the door. Crammed inside of it were five of the half-dozen pink cupcakes Paloma had leftover for herself, each topped individually with strawberries freshly carved to look like little hearts that bleed into the icing. A single index card rested on top of the tupperware was folded in half and addressed to Vin in swirling handwriting, a heart dotting the I in their name. On the inside of the handmade card were just two words:
Thank You.
