Dawn’s response was to turn upside down, her hair remaining alarmingly in place despite the rig holding her having completely reversed her usual vertical position. Static electricity, she’d have said.
“People like me.”
“I have yet to meet one. Even the Kobbers just sort of go “Oh that Dawn, yeah she’s...acceptable.” Neeko, you don’t count. Provided they didn’t hurt you, you like everyone.”
Neeko nodded. “Neeko always try to. Sho’ma good for telling who is good and who is not.”
“If I had to venture a theory, beyond any flaws on my part, it’s because a lot of people insist on attaching all sorts of nonsensical smoke to their interactions. I’m not talking about being polite, I’m talking about putting on airs, presenting a false front, being a salesman, all that. A lot of people tolerate it or don’t know how to handle it, so they default to tolerating it. Myself, I don’t have the patience for it. So I push it aside and ask to get down to business. And they take it personally, because too many people tie their egos to their interactions. Which, I will point out, you have history with as well, Miss Merilee.”
“I never drew leather on anyone who-”
“Didn’t really ask for it. This is a circular argument and while I love debating, neither of you have the right mindset for it. That’s not an insult.” Dawn said, cutting Joy off. “I mean neither of you like to do it. Which is just what I need here. Someone who doesn’t feel the need to play around, either due to hardness or softness.”
“So what precisely do you want us to do?”
“Well, it’s simple. Get a job.”
“What’s the catch?”
“The job.”
-SLIM JAKE’S CARNIVAL OF CURIOSITIES-
“He’s done what?!”
The young clown shrank from the yell and the withering gaze, seeming to vanish into his own baggy shirt. “Um… he’s broken both legs, sir.”
The person responsible for his fear loomed over him like a tree about to topple and crush him. If Big Bobby ever had an evil twin, an opposite in all aspects, then Slim Jake was the man. Thin wasn’t the word to describe him - he looked as though a child had forged him from bent pipe cleaners and old wire. The fancy plum-coloured suit and riding breeches did nothing to improve the look in any regard, all of it looking miles too big on his twiglet frame. His mustache, the thinnest part of all, bristled like an angry cat’s tail as his narrow eyes glared down.
“Both legs?!” he repeated, his nasal voice raised in a high-pitched shriek of disbelief.
The clown nodded frantically, and cringed even further as the owner of Slim Jake’s Carnival of Curiosities brandished his cane about him in fury.
“I told you to get a new safety net!” The man looked as though he was about to start a war-dance. “How’s my star attraction supposed to do the act with both legs in plaster, eh?!”
“Well,” the nameless clown began. But it was clear that he didn’t have an actual answer to that question, rhetorical or not. Slim Jake may have been a persnickety perfectionist, and all the staff made fun of him for it behind his back, but he rarely got angry. When anger did come, though, it overflowed. “Never give Slim Jake the excuse” was the common advice veterans gave to newcomers in the carnival.
The tip of the cane bonked him on the nose with the customary HONK sound effect.
“Either you find a replacement by Sunday,” snapped Slim Jake, “or you’re doing the act yourself, net or no net!” And he turned and stalked off. The clown watched him go, then hurried off, presumably to find said replacement. He didn’t look back at where his boss was going, too relieved to have gotten off with a mere shouting to pay any mind to that.
If he had, he’d have witnessed a very interesting scene.
--------
Slim Jake didn’t get very far before he walked into somebody.
“Here, what’s this?” he hollered, nearly dropping his cane as he fumbled to keep his footing. “Show’s not started yet! Why are you back here?! Who are you?!”
He peered suspiciously down at the person - persons, to be more accurate - that he’d just collided with. Both were young women - divining exact age was never Slim Jake’s skill. One of them, who was picking herself up and looking very annoyed, seemed to be vaguely American. The other, he had no clue - bright purple-pink hair and wide almond eyes stared with fright back up at him. But they definitely weren’t employees of his - he’d never seen them around in the staff tent before.
“You Slim Jake?” asked the first woman. A Texan accent - so his first suspicions were confirmed. (It wasn’t, of course. Texas no longer existed where the woman came from. But if she leaned into the accent she’d mostly shed by the time she’d joined the Kobbers, it sounded close enough.)
Slim Jake nodded. “That’s right, madam. Purveyor of the finest carnivals and curiosities in the multiverse. The posters aren’t all flim-flam and Photoshop.”
“We want to speak to you.” The other woman spoke haltingly, and with what the lanky man supposed was a… Portuguese accent? “We would like-” But Slim Jake, remembering why he’d been so ticked off before, waved them off with his cane as he turned to leave.
“Don’t bother me!” he snapped, irritably. “I’ve got enough problems of my own!” And he began to stalk back to his office. But, to his surprise, the newcomers pursued him.
“But we’d like-” insisted the second woman.
“I said buzz off!” barked Slim Jake, waving again. “You’ve caught me at a bad time! If I don’t find another clown by-”
He stopped suddenly, and peered at them again, as if noticing their outfits for the first time. They weren’t the standard outfits he supplied to his own clowns. In fact, they didn’t say clown so much as swiped from 60’s thrift stores during a rave. Bright, overly-garish and il-fitting. They obviously had only read about circuses in picture books. But maybe…
“You’re dressed as clowns,” he stated, flatly.
“That’s what we’ve been tryin’ ter tell ya!” snapped the first. “We’d like to join your circus! Just ter make a bit of money until-”
At that moment, Slim Jake’s demeanour did a near reversal. The irritable man they’d been speaking to before suddenly straightened up, put his cane in front of him and grinned. Granted, it was a thin and weaselly grin that a used car salesman might wear, but it was a lot more friendlier than the snapping and brandishing of the walking aid like a weapon.
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” he smarmed. “We’ve always got an opening for new talent at Slim Jake’s! And it just so happens you came at the right time!”
The Texan raised an eyebrow. “No kiddin’?”
“None at all!” Slim Jake put his arms around the shoulders of both women, and missed their rather disturbed reactions. “You see, I had a spectacular act lined up for tonight that was going to wow the crowds. But, wouldn’t you know it, my star performer’s only gone and done himself an injury! Broken both legs! I kept saying to get a new safety net, but you know how it is. Just can’t get the staff, you know?”
The two women exchanged nervous glances.
“A shame, really,” Slim Jake went on, not noticing. “He was a real star, you know? Started as one of my curiosities, but it turns out he knew his way around a tightrope or trapeze better than anyone. Odd fellow, though. Didn’t speak English very well - seemed to be some sort of reptile-man. Kind of like you, actually,” he added, indicating the smaller woman.
Once again, he missed their shared glances. Ones of surprise.
“So until he recovers,” he finished, “I’ll be happy to let you take his place for the time being. You’ll be paid handsomely, of course - let nobody say Slim Jake’s a skinflint! You got all the clown basics down, I hope?”
The Texan nodded. “Yep. Pratfalls, custard pies, the squirting flower-”
“And juggling!” The other woman broke away, produced some foam balls and immediately began to demonstrate. But she didn’t get very far before she lost control of them, and one by one they bonked her on the top of her head, sending her to the floor.
“Yes, yes,” said Slim Jake, rolling his eyes. “But you juggle those balls in your own time, not mine, you hear? Head to the back room, over there - Schmidt will fill you in on what to do. You’ve got until Sunday to get a decent act together - there’ll be hundreds of people watching, and I don’t want them to walk out on me. Understand?”
“Yes,” said the woman from the prone position.
“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to see the Wallaby-Man. He wants a pay rise. Can’t figure out why, he lives in a bush, he doesn’t even need it…”
And with that, Slim Jake turned and, for real this time, walked out of sight.
-------
~Later That Day~
“Yeah, we’re there.”
Joy knew she looked ridiculous in her clown costume. It had been picked for her rather last minute - it was too baggy in some places, too small in others. But this had been the best plan they’d had for getting into the carnival and into Slim Jake’s good graces. So she tried not to look like it was bothering her as she spoke into the video communicator.
“Neeko said she sensed an Oovi-Kat here,” she continued. “She’s gone to sniff around. I told her to meet me back here. That’s why you sent us here, isn’t it? Job’s a mean to this end.”
She paused a moment as the person on the other end said something. She frowned in response.
“...yes, I know you told us to stick together. But fact is, we’re kinda stuck here for now, and I gotta make it at least look like I’m rehearsing. Keep them off the scent, as it were. Neeko’s better off being the one to-”
She was interrupted by the voice on the other end. Something she seemed to take offense to, as her frown deepened.
“Of course she’ll be fine!” she snapped, a little harsher than she meant to. “D’you think I wouldn’t let her go off on her own if I didn’t trust her?! Don’t you go judging me after you decided to stick me in this goddamn painted potato sack, you no-good-”
Joy paused, passed a hand over her eyes and inhaled.
“Sorry, sorry… It’s just… I don’t like this. I ain’t never been a carnival sideshow before, and… I feel stupid. Oh, hey, she’s back.”
Her tone of voice changed as Neeko emerged from underneath the lip of the canvas forming the tent wall. The Oovi-Kat’s clown outfit was rumpled and bits of dirt and grass covered her knees and elbows. But naturally none of that bothered her as she got to her feet and walked over to where Joy was standing.
“See?” Joy tried hard not to look too relieved. “She’s here now. Look, I’ll call you later, we’ll be rehearsing the act in a bit.” She switched off the communicator, pocketed it and turned to Neeko as she approached.
“Any luck?”
Neeko shook her head. “No. Neeko ask hospital for info. But they say he never come in.”
“...what?” asked Joy.
“Neeko ask same thing, actually. But nurse say his name not on list. Neeko ask if she sure, but she not change story.”
“...so what, he faked his injury?”
Neeko nodded. “Maybe. Oovi-Kat not just shed tails. Can make fake-wound with sho’ma. Confuse predator or rival. Make quick escape if need to. Neeko never learn how, though.”
“That don’t make any sense.” Joy began to pace impatiently. “Why would he fake an injury like that? Two broken legs ain’t something you just throw out there. Unless something ‘bout this place made him want to leave. But why would-?”
She suddenly caught sight of Neeko’s expression.
It was not a happy one. Her eyes had begun to water, and her lip was quivering like a small child’s. On any other person it would look comical. But Joy had come to learn Neeko’s moods by now. She wasn’t very good at hiding them - as she’d explained before, it was taboo in her species to hide them. And right now, was a very definite mixture of frightened and perturbed, with a heaping layer of upset on top of it.
“Neeko?” Concern washed over Joy. “What’s wrong?”
Neeko’s breath hitched in her throat, and she tried again.
“Neeko… see freak show.”
...oh.
“Neeko see many people. Of many shapes. Many species, too. Tied with ropes or locked in cages. Signs on them call them horrible things. ‘Jungle Girl’. ‘Real Live Merman’. ‘Psychic Twins’. Like animals! Why? Why treat them this way?!”
Oh dear.
Joy had seen her fair share of sideshows in that vein. Not all of them were malicious, obviously. Many of the ‘exhibits’ took pride in their deformities or abilities, and were proud to display them for the public. But then you got those who were populated by those who’d run away or been kicked or or born into it. The desperate ones with no choice. And those were still operated and attended by those with that old mindset. The one where any deviation from perfect symmetry or normal human function was to be mocked at best and, at worst…
Ignorance and fear. The two deadliest combinations.
“Look,” Joy tried, placing her hand on Neeko’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s not that bad. They wouldn’t be dealing with it if they weren’t-“
“No!” Neeko broke away, shaking her head. “Neeko feel it! They not happy! Feel it in their sho’ma! Slim Jake yell if they not make money! They get called bad names by people! Things thrown at them! But Jake not care! He just want to put them on display! Like animal in zoo!” Tears ran down her face, and her voice was almost a screech.
Joy opened her mouth-
“It’s better than nothing.”
-and whipped around as somebody said what she’d wanted to say.
Schmidt was shorter than either Neeko or Joy. He was the kind of person for whom the term ‘lackey’ was invented - small and scrawny, not the cartoonish pipe-cleaner thin that Slim Jake was. Everything was too big on him and clearly handed down, from the patchy shirt and ragged trousers to the very beat up shoes. And he seemed to have a permanent pensive look on his face, not helped by blotchy facepaint that seemed to have been applied with a catapult.
“What d’you mean?” Joy was tense as she turned on Schmidt. Making Neeko cry was one thing. Keeping dirty secrets? That was something else. If he was in on something…
Schmidt cringed a little, but held his ground.
“You don’t know the whole story,” he said as he approached. “This carnival… it goes between worlds. Turns up in different lands and places. A lot of the staff here get picked up from any one of them, because they can’t cope. They need a way to make money, or can’t keep hiding from dad when he’s drunk again. And for most of them, looking weird is all they got. So they start at the bottom, in the freak show. And of course, some of them get to love the job, so they stay on.”
“How?!” Neeko choked back mixed anger and bewilderment. “How is that right?!”
“Slim Jake’s a hard man, true,” Schmidt went on. “But he’s not a bigot. The freaks get paid a lot more than a lot of the local sideshows are willing to pay them. He just wants everyone to put in the effort. And those that do? Well, just ask Harry the Wolfman - hairiest bloke I’ve ever seen and he was the best trapeze artist we ever had.”
“Don’t excuse the abuse, though,” Joy put in. She was very grateful she didn’t have her guns, or somebody’s head would be smoldering ash right now.
Schmidt shrugged. “We get all sorts. Some crowds are better than others. One place we did, Demacia, won’t let us back in again because a riot started during the magic show. And Slim Jake’s got a temper, but most of the time he’s all bark and no bite. Anger issues over how his brother got more successful or something. Those at the bottom are willing to put up with a lot if it means a bed, cash and food. Yeah, in an ideal world they’d have it better, but that’s just life sometimes, you know?”
Neeko gave a sob, but said nothing. She seemed to have calmed down a bit.
“...you talk as if you’ve been through it,” said Joy, warily.
When she looked back on this later, she realized she’d been expecting a lot of answers from Schmidt on that one. Another shrug, maybe some excuses, a weary and resigned sigh that showed how much he’d accepted his lowly position. Anything to give her the excuse to, at the very least, yell at Slim Jake or point a gun threateningly at him.
Seeing a man reach up and remove his own face was not on that list.
“WHAT IN TARNATION-!”
The triangular, pincer-mouthed face of the real Schmidt stared back at her, outsized eyes unblinking. His azure fur looked oddly plush, like a well-groomed teddy bear, and his antennae looked like singed peacock feathers.
“I was the Bug Man,” he explained, sideways pincer mouth clicking on each syllable. “Did it for about two years. Not many work opportunities when your dad’s an alien moth with the sex drive of a jackrabbit. But then I got good with the technical stuff - sets, effects and all that. So here I am now. The outfit’s just a formality. Most people don’t even mind what I am now, but we do it for the sake of the audience.”
Joy and Neeko stared as Schmidt replaced his face and became human again.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, addressing Neeko. “There’s a lot of ignorant people in the multiverse who think their ticket money is a free licence to act like wankers. They don’t get to see the hard graft and sweat we put into this place. And Slim Jake’s not the best, but he’s decent enough - we’re his source of income, after all. Things could be a lot worse for us, trust me.”
There was a long pause as the duo digested this. Neeko was drying her eyes on the backs of her hands, her tail and fins limp. Joy was staring at him with a calculated stoicism.
“...you better not be talking moonshine,” she said, at last. “Else I’m gonna make your boss regret it.”
Schmidt shrugged again. “I’ve no reason to defend him. He’s what he is, and I don’t think even a railroad spike through the head could change that.”
Joy nodded, then turned to Neeko. “You alright?”
Neeko sniffled, nodded, and put on a smile.
“Good. Be brave now. We ain’t stayin’ here much longer, an’ then we can put this nasty business behind us.”
“We’ll find your friend,” put in Schmidt. “I don’t know why he’s done a bunk, but he can’t have left the carnival. One of the Psychic Twins would have told us about it already if we had. We’ll find him, and you two can do whatever business you need to do, alright?”
Neeko nodded, more sure of herself.
“Alright, then. Now, come along, you two. I think I finally got that bloody truck working.”
-------
~Don’t You Love Farce~
The big day had arrived.
Slim Jake’s Wondrous Big Top was, as always, crowded. Those who let themselves be lead through the long pathway of rides, exhibitions and games had usually been wowed enough to be coerced in here. And the comparisons to Big Bobby didn’t stop - what looked like just a large tent from the outside was about the size of a small football stadium inside. It seemed Slim Jake had also inherited the talent for making things “bigger on the inside”. Perhaps a subtle statement about the industry he was managing.
The great circle of sand in the centre, lit up by the overhead floodlights, was marked with only a few props. A fake door - that is, a door and frame that lead to nowhere. A huge pail of water. A trampoline. One side of the ring was opened up, leading to a facsimile of a multi-story building, with three wooden balconies. At the bottom was the entrance, marred by the great velvet curtain.
One by one, the crowd was seated. Their eager, expectant chatter dimmed, with only a few quiet murmurs and the rustling of popcorn bags. The lights dimmed.
Then, as the drumroll began, two spotlights flickered on. They roamed across the face of the building as Slim Jake’s nasal voice broke out in dramatic tones.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen! The show you’ve been waiting for! Please give a warm hand to our newest stars of the ring!”
With a triumphant brass fanfare, the spotlights focused on the door.
A hush fell over the crowd.
Then, on cue to the honky-tonk music that began to blare, the mock fire engine rattled in, squeaking and banging, carrying it’s two gaudy occupants into the ring. The laughter kicked up almost immediately.
“Hello, hello, everybody!”
“Where’s the fire? Oh, dear me!”
The “fire engine” looked more like the rickety remnants of 1950’s classic cars playing dress-up. It shook as it trundled along, looking as though it would fall apart at any moment, accompanied by cartoonish pops and bangs. The centre of it was hinged, making it buck on occasion like a frustrated horse. It was all Neeko and Joy could do to hold on to their plastic yellow helmets as their conveyance tossed and banged about, occasionally jumping into reverse.
Eventually, with a final bang and a hiss of nonexistent steam, the vehicle came to a stop in the dead centre of the ring. The new clowns immediately jumped out of it - Neeko tripping over her own shoes and faceplanting into the sand - and began running around the arena like headless chickens.
“Oh, Neeko not know, she really do not!”
“I dunno where the fire is, do you?”
“Hang on! Oh, yes, come along!”
Quickly, Joy dashed over to the fire engine and snatched up the hosepipe. The drum span as she sped off in the other direction, unreeling the hose behind her. At about the same time, Neeko snatched up a bucket from the back of the truck and dashed off to try and put out the nonexistent fire. But in the confusion of the moment, the Oovi-Kat ran smack into the hosepipe, and the Gunslinger’s own aimless running took her in a circle or two around the other clown.
“Hey, watch it!”
“Oh, help!”
Neeko as she became tangled up in the rubber, spinning like a top. At that moment, the hose reached it’s full length, the drum coming to a stop with a clang, and went taut. The action yanked Joy off her feet, and as she landed heavily on her own backside she lost her grip on it, causing the drum to rotate back as though on a spring. Neeko yelped as she spun the other way, the hose uncoiling from her and back onto the drum, leaving her teetering and dizzy.
“You silly fireman!” hollered Joy above the laughter of the crowd.
She ran over to try and help Neeko - or perhaps get the hosepipe back - but put her foot into the bucket instead. With a yell, she began hopping about on one foot as she frantically tried to dislodge it, making clunking noises all the way. This left a still teetering Neeko to stagger over to the fire truck and retrive the hose.
“Now,” she said, eyes still spinning a little. “This way we do it!” And she pointed it dramatically at the building they had emerged from.
But nothing happened.
“Huh?” Neeko shook the hosepipe a little, eyebrows furrowed. But still no water came. Joy hobbled over, still clattering.
“Summat wrong with the hosepipe?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said Neeko, turning to face her. “It no-”
SPLOOSH
In turning around, Neeko had pointed the hose at Joy. And within impeccable sense of comedic timing, it had sprayed itself full in Joy’s face. The crowd roared with laughter.
“Watch it!” cried Joy, batting futilely at the high-pressure stream. But by the time Neeko could pull the lever and turn it off, she was already soaked through. She spluttered and spat, the flower on her hat drooping, whilst a sheepish Neeko quickly replaced the hose on the truck. There was an awful pause whilst the Oovi-Kat looked over the soggy and shocked cowgirl, trying to think of something witty to say.
“Well-”
She didn’t think of it quickly enough.
“YOU ROTTEN REPTILE!” roared Joy, and leapt at her.
Neeko gave a squeal and dashed off, with Joy in hot pursuit. More laughter rocked the audience as the two ran pell-mell around the arena like some ejected Three Stooges skit, with Joy trying to grab hold of Neeko and Neeko trying to not have this occur. They ran around the truck in several circles. They leaped over the basin. They made for the trampoline - Neeko leaped on and began to bounce, turning somersaults as she went. The audience applauded at the wild shapes and poses she formed, even as Joy tried and failed to snatch her out of the air.
The cowgirl eventually got fed up and tried to leap on the trampoline herself. Which was when Neeko finally jumped off, and instead Joy bounced once, flailing wildly as she lost control. Her second bounce threw her backwards to land head-first in the bucket. The audience laughed once again as she tried to resume the chase, but staggered in different directions instead, with Neeko easily able to evade her, blowing raspberries all the way.
Eventually, the two came to the out-of-place doorway in the middle of the arena. The Oovi-Kat quickly ducked through the frame, then grabbed the door and slammed it shut. Joy, who didn’t have the gift of sight at that moment, ran smack into it with a clang of metal on wood. On the minus side, it knocked the breath out of her body and made her stagger, and the audience howled with glee. On the plus, the bucket fell off, which meant she could see again.
With her sight restored, Joy composed herself, then knocked on the door as Neeko crouched like a terrified cat behind it.
“Knock-knock,” she said.
Neeko perked up. “Who there?”
Joy quickly racked her brains - thankfully, the chuckling crowd gave her the time she needed.
“Nobel.”
“Nobel who?”
“Nobel, so I knocked!” Joy struck a pose and honked her fake nose as the audience laughed and clapped at the little zinger. Neeko seemed to get the idea at once, straightening up and adjusting her bow tie.
“Knock-knock,” she tried. The audience chuckled.
“Who’s there?” asked Joy.
“Luke.”
“Luke who?”
Neeko grinned as a flower unfurled from her lapel. “Luke through keyhole and see~”
Joy, of course, did - and received a faceful of water for her trouble, courtesy of the flower. The audience howled, and even the clowns backstage had to suppress giggles. But as soon as she was done spitting and wiping her eyes, it was Merrilee’s turn.
“Knock-knock,” she began.
“Who there?” asked Neeko.
“Waiter.”
“Waiter who?”
“WAITER AH BUST DOWN THIS DOOR, YA VARMINT!” Joy launched a furious attack on the door, shoving and punching at it. Neeko held it firm, but it was unclear if the fright on her face was staged. Nevertheless, it got a holler from the audience, so whatever it really meant was lost on them. When the assault failed to work, Joy took several steps back, then managed a full-pelt charge despite the shoes.
But at the last possible moment, Neeko jumped to one side, holding one hand out. A hand that held a custard pie.
The door flew open and Joy ran smack into the offending object with a splat. The crowd roared, and the startled cowgirl was left wiping cream from her face - along with most of her makeup. And again, they failed to notice a tiny detail that might have damaged their immersion.
Neeko leaning over to whisper in Joy’s ear.
-------
“Mirree?”
“Wh- huh?”
“We… we still playing, yes?”
“...yeah, we are.”
“Oh. Is just… you seem mad. Like, for real mad.”
“Nah, it’s fine, I… I’ll git over it. Just get on with the act, okay?”
“Okay.”
Stupid pride. Swallow it, Merry. This is far more important than looking like a yahoo in front of a bunch of strangers they’d never see again. Well that and the golem but she was probably busy and wouldn’t care anyway and DON’T DWELL…
-------
It was then that Neeko suddenly produced a loaf of bread from her baggy trousers. Her eyes clear of custard, Joy stared incredulously.
“Why did you bring bread?” she asked.
“You said we make sandwich!” Neeko said.
“...But we don’t have a witch!”
Neeko rolled her eyes and bapped Joy over the head with the loaf. But it was while Joy was rubbing her head that she seemed to remember something.
“...didn’t we have a fire to sort out?”
At that moment, the tower block facsimile lit up with orange light behind them. Fake smoke poured into the air, and the sounds of crackling flame filled the stadium. All of which, of course, was done by cleverly-hidden stagehands behind the scenes - Schmidt among them. The audience gave a mock gasp of surprise as the two clowns turned to fake the staged inferno, eyes wide.
And recognized their cue.
“We done goofed!” hollered Neeko, much to the audience’s amusement.
“Quick!” shouted Joy. “Take the stars! You go left, I go right”
Neeko nodded, and the two dashed for the fake tower block. Unbeknownst to the audience, a set of steps and platforms had been set up - behind the plasterboard brick was essentially a wooden scaffolding of three stories. Approaching from each side of the fake building, Neeko and Joy ducked behind the curtain as if entering a fire exit and vanished into the
A parade of stock comedy sounds burst out from within. Crashing drums, clashing cymbals, wooden thumps and cartoonish spring noises. And shouts from the duo within.
“Who turned out the lights?!”
“Which way again?”
“Left, left! Go left!”
“Ow! That my tail!”
“Ow, my head! OW! TOE, TOE, TOE!”
-------
Behind the scenes, Neeko and Joy threw each other thumbs-ups as they reached the top of the stairs.
“Good work so far,” hissed Neeko.
“Any sign of another Oovi-Kat?” asked Joy.
“No,” was the reply.
“Well, keep goin’. They gotta show up soon-”
“Psst!” Schmidt, who was holding the boombox playing the comedy sound effects tape, motioned for them to hurry it up. He didn’t look particularly happy about his current role in life. But there were at least a dozen other clowns working the lighting and effects to make the fake fire, and his aid in that department would have been redundant. So this was all he was really capable of at the moment.
With the reminder that the show was still on firmly in their brains, the two women moved towards the doors in front of them.
-------
On the first floor of the building, two doors of separate “flats” flew open as Neeko and Joy emerged.
“Where’s the fire, where’s the fire?!”
“There, there, up on top!”
Still bungling around for a blaze to put out, they turned to cross the balcony and reach the next set of stairs. Except, by what appeared to be chance, they’d emerged from doors on opposite sides of the building.
And thus, they ended up crashing into each other.
In fact, however, this particular gag had been rehearsed many times beforehand. Neither Neeko or Joy had wanted to injure each other - especially not after their recent experiences. As a result, their mock-collision was no more painful than a slightly rough chest bump, and their mutual cry of “OOF!" was entirely for show. The crowd was still laughing either way, and laughed even louder as the two landed on their backsides, the horns hidden in their pants honking on impact.
The two recovered quickly, scrambling to their feet. Joy straightened her bow tie, then rounded on Neeko in mock indignation.
“What’s the mattah with you?!” she hollered, accent slipping through. “I told ya to take the left stairs!”
“No, you tell Neeko to take right!” retorted Neeko, looking equally fake-outraged.
“Ya mean tah say ya don’t know your left from your right?!”
“Neeko know which right is right and which left is right!”
“But that wasn’t the right left to take, you shoulda taken the left right!”
“Neeko not take- wait, which is left right?”
“Ya know! Left, right, left!” Joy began doing an impromptu military march on the spot, clown shoes clomping on the wood. Neeko stared dumbly at her, then tried to copy her motions, albeit with far less refinement than what her companion was managing. But it didn’t take long for her tail, madly waving, to get tangled in her legs, and with a yelp she fell over, knocking Joy down in the process. The audience applauded that one, much to their own shock.
“You’d make a terrible soldier,” groused Joy.
“Is true.” Neeko dusted herself down ruefully. “Neeko try one time. Not last three days.”
Joy looked up at her. “Why? What happened?”
“Sergeant say to Neeko, ‘Me no see you at camouflage training!’ Neeko say ‘Thank you’!”
More laughter as Joy rolled her eyes.
“Look, you go the other way, okay? I’ll keep going my way. We’ll try to meet in the middle. Not literally!” Joy snapped, turning red as she saw the grin on Neeko’s face.
“Just checking~!”
The two disappeared behind the doors again. More crashing and honking followed, with a yowling cat thrown in for good measure.
-------
“Darn,” hissed Joy as she climbed the stairs “Didn’t get enough time to check the rigging.”
“Is not on this floor either,” whispered Neeko. “Would have sensed by now.”
“Where in tarnation are they?! Urgh, like a needle in a haystack, this thing!”
“We check after show, okay? No time now.” Neeko reached over and grabbed something that a fellow clown was holding out to her, just as Schmidt suddenly dropped the boombox. Ignoring the crash and his yell of dismay, they made for the outside again.
-------
The noises abruptly cut out for a moment, and then Neeko and Joy appeared again. The cowgirl was empty-handed still, but the reptile woman was carrying what appeared to be an entire armful of prop swords that had not been there before. The moment she saw them, Joy did a double-take that nearly made the clown nose fall off.
“Where in tarnation did you get those swords?!” she cried.
“Cut price sale!” Neeko explained, eliciting laughter.
“...but why do you have swords?!”
"Juggling!”
Neeko began to toss the swords into the air, each one revolving and somersaulting at the peak of their arcs. But this wasn’t the enthusiastic and clumsy attempt that she’d made to impress Slim Jake. The other clowns had taken the time to show her how it was done. And perhaps it was her picking up their sho’ma, or perhaps it was just her being observant. But in the space of three days she had gone from fumbling whatever she held to expertly keeping it all in the air.
Four swords were effortlessly tossed, caught and tossed again - and became a round six when her tail got involved. She even stood on her hands and kicked them into the air with her feet, every movement so well-timed that not even a single nick came across her skin. And all the while, Joy stood with her hands on her hips, pouting like a child who’s seen the action figure they’ve always wanted in another kid’s hands.
When Neeko stood upright, caught every last sword with her tail and posed, the crowd went wild. Neeko giggled and bowed, whilst Joy shook her head and frowned.
“I could do that,” she said at last.
Neeko gave a mock glare of indignation. “You could not!”
“Could so!” was the retort.
“Okay, then!” Neeko put down most of the swords, then handed two of them to Joy. “You try!”
Joy took them, and stood there for a few moments. The truth was, she’d never juggled. But she’d never explicitly said anything of the sort to Slim Jake - he hadn’t let her get a word in edgeways. Of course, he didn’t need to know that. And the routine had been set up specifically so that she didn’t have to. Neeko’s own efforts were showstopping enough by anyone’s terms, anyway. No, this wasn’t about juggling.
This was about...
"Juggling!" Joy waved the swords in a "Now I'm going to do it" way, towards one third of the audience on her left. The crowd chuckled.
"Juggling!" Same, towards another part of the audience.
"Juggling!" Last third. And.
"SUCKS!" Joy threw the swords behind her.
It was about timing. And Joy had timed her throw perfectly. The clowns had just managed to wheel the basin of water onto the platform just before the swords hit it. Or, rather, the button underneath it, triggering the springs and pulleys that tilted the hidden contraption. And all that water ended up tipping out in a great rush.
All over Neeko.
It made a change from Joy getting doused or covered in something, at least. And also, as a change, it was now Joy running from Neeko instead.
-------
Yellow eyes watched the pair from beneath the wooden poles of the scaffolding. Their expression was unreadable.
But the voice, soft yet lilting, had a sorrowful tinge to it.
“Sorry, Neeko. But I can’t stay here.”
Then the match was struck.
-------
By this point, the duo had reached the top floor. A soggy Neeko was now making an act of strangling Joy with her hands, which had also been rehearsed beforehand. The chameleon girl’s wiry strength had come as a shock the first time she’d tried this, so the two were being very careful about it.
Then Neeko paused. Her nose wrinkled, and she frowned, backing away from the woman she’d been mock-throttling.
“You smell smoke?” she asked.
Joy sniffed. “Yeah, I smell it. Where-?”
The fire, goaded by magic and dry tinder, rushed out from the bottom windows. The crowd gasped.
Neeko and Joy stared at it.
“Oh,” said Joy, flatly. “There’s the fire.”
-------
“WHO STARTED THAT?!”
Slim Jake could not have been any more furious at this moment if he’d tried. Watching from backstage, he’d been pleased enough with the act - the classic “bungling firemen” bit never got old. And then some joker - who, he never saw - had decided to forgo the fake pyrotechnics in favour of the real thing. WIthout his consent and without any prior preparation. Putting his employees, his customers and his financial security on the line.
The ringmaster was all for the dramatic realism. But this was too real.
His demand came in an almost demented scream as he rounded on the backstage staff. The phrase “hopping mad” could not have described him better - he was literally dancing from foot to foot in his fury, like a rabbit who’d blundered into tin tacks. His moustache was bristling and his cane was waving like a bludgeon in the direction of the sudden conflagration as it began to crawl up the scaffolding.
The other clowns looked between him and the flames, open-mouthed in horror and shock. But neither could summon an answer that they could deem satisfactory.
“DON’T JUST STAND THERE!” hollered Slim Jake, losing patience. “PUT THAT FIRE OUT! DO SOMETHING! SEND IN THE CLOWNS!”
As cliché as the line was, nothing got a bunch of face-painted performers moving faster.
-------
The magic ingredient in any performance, be it film or on stage, is the suspension of disbelief. And that all comes down to how convincing you as a performer can make the act seem. Any good showman will tell you that it doesn’t matter how shoddy your props are or how hokey your set is if you can just sell the audience on it. If you believe, with all your might, that what you’re doing is genuine, then that belief will leak over to the people in their seats. They stop noticing the wires and the sticks and the seams. The fake reality you’re presenting takes over and becomes theirs as well.
But there are times when that works against you. When the line between reality and fantasy is so heavily blurred, the audience can easily fail to tell when something goes wrong. For a moment, the fake reality blinds people from seeing the real thing, and a tragic accident becomes just another hilarious joke. When the wire suddenly snaps and sends you the floor, the audience will still holler with laughter even when your neck follows suit. Everything’s all part of the act until the stretcher bearers come.
Such was the case with this audience. Watching the prop skyscraper go up in flames, they had no clue that anything was amiss. They gasped and pointed, but they thought, as people always do, that everything was under control. They couldn’t see that the fear on the faces of Joy and Neeko weren’t staged in the slightest.
“We gotta get outta here!” howled Joy as she backed away from the edge of the balcony. The flames were creeping up higher now, and she could see they weren’t normal flames. They were edged with pinkish red instead of the usual orange, and hissed like angry serpents.
But it was all very well and good to say that. It was quite another matter to actually do it. Going backwards wasn’t an option anymore, thanks to the fire. And that left only one other route. The skyscraper was several feet up, and at its highest point nearly touched the ceiling of the big top. A jump like that… Joy knew she would probably make it - she’d mostly likely only get a few bruises. But Neeko, thinner and frailer, probably wouldn’t. Tree climbing didn’t translate to being good at falling, necessarily,
She considered grabbing Neeko and throwing them both off together. If she was underneath when they hit, she’d take the brunt of the impact and spare her. But there was no guarantee of that - it was just as likely they’d land side-by-side, or that Joy would crush Neeko by landing on top instead. Maybe if Neeko turned into some kind of flying animal to get them out? But there wasn’t enough room for flight up here, and what animal was big enough to lift a full-grown person?
Already the clowns were coming out in full fireman’s regalia. They were doing their best to put the fire out with whatever methods they had to hand. Hoses, buckets, even the squirting flowers. But Joy had already figured out that this wasn’t a normal fire, and it was going to take some time to put out even by their standards. She and Neeko needed to get off now.
“Mirree!”
Joy felt Neeko’s hand on her shoulder and turned to her. The Oovi-Kat was pointing up at something, and she turned.
She took in the sight of the trapeze rungs dangling from the ceiling of the big top. At first, she didn’t quite get what Neeko was asking of her, and stood dumbly as the fire reached the second floor. She noted, in that haze of incomprehension, that the first rung was actually quite close to the skyscraper’s top floor balcony...
Then it hit her.
“No,” she said in reflex.
“Mirree!” cried Neeko, impatiently. “Is best way off! Too high to jump, can’t go back! So we swing!”
“Ah don’t know the first darn thing ‘bout swingin’!” Joy protested, accent leaking through again. “I didn’t spend mah life in trees like you, Neeko! I-”
“Merry.”
Neeko’s hands grabbed her by the wrists. Disarmed by hearing her own name pronounced correctly, Merrilee Marsello halted in shock, her panic leaving her. Golden eyes stared back into hers, holding her attention almost completely. For a moment, the world felt away, and it felt like the two were caught in a weird cloud of colour and impression. Neeko’s own sho’ma, perhaps?
“Do you trust me?”
Joy swallowed. Oh, literally any other way off but this. But she’d asked that magic question that they always asked whenever something wild and stupid was about to happen.
“When do I not?”
The moment held a little longer.
And then got shattered quite abruptly when Neeko suddenly spun her around and threw her through the air.
“AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
How that got a laugh, Joy would never know.
-------
“What are they doing?” asked Slim Jake, staring in goggle-eyed bewilderment.
Once again, those clowns that had stayed behind had no answer.
-------
It was by sheer instinct that Joy managed to cling onto the rung of the trapeze the moment her hands brushed it. A second later and she’d have been plummeting to her doom. Or at least some very unpleasant soreness.
But now she had a new problem. Namely, that she was swinging from two wires at a very extreme height, with only her hands overcoming gravity itself. The moment she slipped, she knew, there would be nothing there to catch her - she didn’t even know if anyone was moving the trampoline at all. She clung to the rail, gasping, only conscious of the sickening lurch in her stomach as she swung forward. Also, the crowd was pointing and murmuring in excitement.
She wished they didn’t do that.
By a miracle, Neeko’s voice reached her.
“Swing this way, Mirree!” she cried.
“HOW, DOGGONE IT?!”
“Is all in weight! Swing legs back as you go back! Get momentum!”
Joy’s heart was rapidly trying to climb out of her throat. But she was already at the top of her swing, so she really had no choice. As she felt her body start to move backwards, she swung her legs out backwards, trying to put more momentum into the motion against her own instinct. Her stomach lurched again, and she wondered vaguely if she would be able to keep her lunch down during all of this.
She felt herself reach the back of the swing. The heat of the fires below touched her legs - they were still going. She wiggled her feet, wondering if something was supposed to happen.
“Not there yet,” called Neeko. “Try again!”
“We don’t have the ti-iiiiime!” hollered Joy as she began to sing forward again.
“Is okay! Just make more momentum! Neeko will jump if she has to!”
That idea wasn’t very appealing - the last thing Joy wanted was for Neeko to jump, especially from a height like this. Maybe if she could turn into a bird in the time she had, it would have worked, but that wasn’t a chance either wanted to take. And in any case, they were locked into this path now. Might as well put on the show for the audience.
So Joy kicked out, and found that she indeed swung forward a little more. Then, as she felt herself begin to swing back, she reached out with her legs once again. It did bring her backwards a little more, but it also made her look down towards the commotion on the bottom. Oh, that was quite the drop, wasn’t it? She couldn’t tell if the clowns were winning or not in their fight against the fire, but-
“ACK!”
Her cry came as Neeko’s hands clamped onto her ankles. The shock of another body’s weight janking her down nearly made her let go of the trapeze, but by a miracle they kept hold. But now she was conscious of the chameleon’s wiry fingers holding onto her, and their grip nearly made her curse. Her legs were not tree branches by any measure, and discomfort lanced up her shins.
“Ooooh!” gasped the crowd.
“Now we swing for next one!” Neeko hollered as they swung forward together. She’d already stuck her legs out in front of her as they moved, looking every bit the expert trapeze artist already. “I let go, grab hold! Then I swing back and get you!”
“How do you know all this stuff?!” wailed Joy.
“Swing through trees all the time as hatchling!” was the response. “Easy when you learn!”
Joy would have loved to point out that it was all very well for her to say that. But they’d already reached the top of this third swing, and her stomach was reminding her that hey, I hate this. So she put as much of her hips and legs as she could into the backswing without throwing Neeko off balance. They did go some degrees higher on that one - a little too high, as the fires crackled dangerously beneath them.
They ignored it.
“NOW!” cried Neeko. Together, both women put every ounce they could manage into this next swing. Joy closed her eyes as she felt the world swoop past around her, trying not to think about a single bit of it.
Then, suddenly, Neeko let go.
Joy almost screamed. What happened?! Did she slip? Did she miss? Did she go sailing into the crowd, or crash into the earth below? Panic raced through her mind, not in the least because she could feel herself swing back. Too late to help, too late to-
The crowd made a noise she couldn’t identify.
“You can look now!”
Joy opened her eyes.
On the other bar, Neeko was swinging away from her. She’d managed to grab the other trapeze with her tail - of course she had - and was beaming at Joy with a mad sort of triumph. She never looked more at home than she did right now.
“Neeko make it!” she trilled. “You come next!”
“How?!” shouted Joy over the distance. “The gap’s too far!”
Neeko didn’t reply. Probably too far apart. But it was easy to tell what this probably meant. And like the rest of this extremely risky and stupid idea, she didn’t like it. But it was that or hang from her until her arms got tired and then she fell. Into the earth or into the fire - which seemed to be mostly smoke now. Perhaps the clowns were winning? She could go back and try to find a clear path down-
No. Too big a risk now.
She took a deep breath, then lifted her legs as high as they could go, until her knees almost touched her chest. The swing began, and she braced herself until she was sure she’d reached the end of it, not trusting herself to do otherwise. Neeko swung closer, arms outstretched, and for a moment it seemed as though they might collide again.
Joy let go.
Well, it was less “let go” and more “throw herself forward”. She shot her legs out as she did so, trying to get more forward momentum going as she went. For a moment, there was that awful sense of weightlessness that comes when you jump and you’re at the complete mercy of natural forces, and you don’t know if you’re going to land anywhere but there’s that nagging little voice that says “Was this a good idea?”
She felt Neeko grab her. But not by the wrists.
“AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
Now she was upside down, and feeling all the world like she was the pendulum in a grandfather clock. The world swung by her head, and she could see all of it - the burning building, the frantic clowns below, the awestruck crowd. But it went by too fast for her, blurring together in a frightful smear of movement and vertigo, and her brain shrieked at being so rudely treated, what did she think it was, a baby’s rattle? Perhaps she saw that the fire was being brought under control, but she didn’t quite process it with all the screaming she was doing.
Now she was upside down, and feeling all the world like she was the pendulum in a grandfather clock. The world swung by her head, and she could see all of it - the burning building, the frantic clowns below, the awestruck crowd. But it went by too fast for her, blurring together in a frightful smear of movement and vertigo, and her brain shrieked at being so rudely treated, what did she think it was, a baby’s rattle? Perhaps she saw that the fire was being brought under control, but she didn’t quite process it with all the screaming she was doing.
“Mirree, calm down! Neeko has you!”
Joy managed to catch herself and bring her voice under control. But she was still hyperventilating, and she was pretty sure her clown nose fell off.
“You see next rung?” Neeko called down to her. She craned her head and saw it come up towards her - but still so far out of reach. She made a noise that sounded vaguely like “Uh-huh”, but she couldn’t be sure.
“Neeko try to throw us both!” the Oovi-Kat explained. “We both go together, try to catch rung!”
“And then what?!” asked Joy as they swung back.
“...Neeko not work that part out yet.”
Of course. That seemed to be the running theme with most of their plans.
But still, they had to try. As they reached the top of this swing, Joy threw her weight into it, spreading her arms out airplane fashion even as Neeko curled backwards, her body tense as a coiled spring. The swing forwards was faster than before, the wind whistling in Joy’s ears as she went.
There was a tense moment as they swung forwards. The crowd held its breath.
Then…
“NOW!”
Neeko swung forward and let go.
Something wild happened. As if compelled by instinct, Joy and Neeko curled around each other as they somersaulted, the cowboy grabbing the ankles of the Oovi-Kat in much the same way Neeko held her own. The two rolled through the air in a wheel, and for a moment gravity itself was so slack-jawed that it forgot to do it’s job. The crowd’s cries reached a fever-pitch - they’d forgotten the fire and were utterly focused on them. Joy didn’t know what she felt at that moment, nor could she find the words to describe it right now.
It certainly wasn’t fear anymore.
A drum suddenly began rolling in the background. She didn’t know if it was in her head, and she didn’t really care. As if in a dream, she uncurled her hands from around Neeko’s ankles and reached for the bar. Almost with expert practice, she grasped it, and heard the roar of the crowd as she swung forward, and she didn’t know if Neeko was striking a pose but she wouldn’t put it past her. Nor would she blame her.
A drum suddenly began rolling in the background. She didn’t know if it was in her head, and she didn’t really care. As if in a dream, she uncurled her hands from around Neeko’s ankles and reached for the bar. Almost with expert practice, she grasped it, and heard the roar of the crowd as she swung forward, and she didn’t know if Neeko was striking a pose but she wouldn’t put it past her. Nor would she blame her.
She looked down as they swung back together, the Oovi-Kat curling out of the way just in time as the clowns moved a trampoline into position. She must have said something to Neeko to indicate it was there, because she heard a cry of “Isso!” in response. One, two, three more swings, and then they were somersaulting again, down through the air and towards the earth.
The drum roll had stopped. All was quiet.
But it had been judged correctly. Together, they hit the trampoline and bounced. Still clinging to each other, they let it happen several more times, arcing and posing as they went. On the final bounce, they leaped off and split apart as they did several more somersaults through the air. Then, as if they’d done it a hundred times, landed on their feet.
And despite herself, Joy joined in with Neeko and the trumpets in a triumphant exclamation of:
“TA-DAAAAAAH!”
The applause from the audience drowned out the yelling and spluttering as Schmidt got the hose in his face for no apparent reason.
-------
“Not quite what I had in mind,” mused Slim Jake at the end of it. “But, all the same...”
He was staring at the smoldering wreck of the skyscraper as he said this. It was clear that this was not one of those “a lick of paint and nobody will notice” deals. This was going to be several months of work and sweat to replace and repair. A lot of it was no good for anything except shavings now, and the brick facsimile was peeling off in too many places. The clowns were sifting through it and recovering as much as they could.
Neeko and Joy stood at either side of him. They were still thrumming from the adrenaline and didn’t really know what the appropriate thing to say was. They stared up at Slim Jake’s face, his expression a rare moment of quiet inscrutability.
Then Neeko coughed.
“Um… Neeko sorry,” she tried. “Should have smelled smoke earlier. Neeko-”
To both her and Joy’s surprise, Slim Jake laughed.
“Oh, don’t worry!” he cried, waving her off. “I never did like that old thing, anyway! I’d been meaning to replace it! And we’ll catch that scoundrel in the end - or, at least, the police will. But that,” he continued, spreading his arms in theatrical fashion, “was one of the best trapeze acts I’ve seen in years! Better than old Five-Heads Arnold - and he was made of snakes!”
The duo shared smiles. Neeko of genuine pride, Joy of mixed pride and embarrassment.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay on?” Jake was waving his cane like an orchestra conductor. “I’d make stars out of you! I can see it now! Neeko & Joy, The Duo who Defy Gravity! Your act in lights on the big top! Your faces on all the posters! All the big cities will be flocking to see you, and-”
But Joy emphatically shook her head.
“Sorry, Mister. Once was quite enough for this gal. I ain’t too keen on the whole showbiz thing. An’ we only needed the night’s money anyway.” Neeko nodded in affirmation.
Slim Jake slowed down and looked from one to the other.
“I see,” he said. He seemed very visibly disappointed, like a child who’d found the last chocolate bonbon is gone.
Then he straightened up, coughed and adjusted his cravat.
“Well,” he said, keeping his voice level, “you know where the way out is, ladies. Your pay is at the front desk. And remember,” he added, with a small smile and a tip of the hat, “you’ve given a performance like no other! There’s always a spot for you at Slim Jake’s Carnival of Curiosities!”
Joy and Neeko nodded. Then, as Slim Jake turned back to direct the salvage operations, they turned and headed out for the main entrance and, afterwards, the trip back to their own world.
But as they went, Joy elbowed Neeko in the ribs and hissed:
“You’re tellin’ no one how loud I scream.”
Neeko giggled. “Wouldn’t dream of it!”
-------
“Unexpected.” Dawn said.
“Yeah, ain’t it. No darn Oovi-Kat and it looks like I’m a natural at...what did you call it Vent?”
“She floats through the air with the greatest of ease…”
“No I didn’t.”
“The daring young girl on the flying trapeze?”
“I’ll take that, though.” Joy said, slipping on her boots. If she could, she’d never take them off again. You never realized how useful magic boots that blunted impacts and let you kick off thin air were until you were in a situation where they would be really useful. “At least Neeko didn’t get sick.”
“...about that.” Dawn said, turning towards the Oovi-Kat. “You know what fueled that fire, Neeko.”
Neeko nodded. “Sho’ma. Oovi-Kat all use different magics. I just use jungle magic because is easiest. Some use water, stone… fire.”
“So not only did the Oovi-Kat set the fire, it then ran off?” Joy said. “Why would it do THAT?”
“In terms of it vanishing, I think it was a case of just missing the bus. I am...somewhat leaning towards that it would have been able to sense Neeko. Considering it faked an injury beforehand...maybe it sensed it was getting yanked somewhere else, and didn’t want Neeko to come along?”
“...How likely is that because it knew it was going nowhere good?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Don’t worry. At the very least, I got data. I also offered Jake a recording of the act, but as I said, he and I know each other, he doesn’t like me very much, and I quote…”
“PULL A STUNT LIKE THAT AGAIN, YOU RIDICULOUS HUNK OF JUNK, I’LL REPURPOSE YOU AS A CLOWN CAR!”
“I feel like he somewhat missed the point.” Dawn said. “So, I’ll enter said data in, and the hunt continues. Now, Neeko...mind if I speak to you?”
Neeko nodded, and waited until Vent and Joy, taking their own cue, left the room. Then she ambled over on all fours and waited to hear what Dawn had to say.
“Nice work with Joy.” Dawn said. “You two managed to sync up in a crisis, where one of you was not exactly in a comfortable situation. Considering Joy’s a chomp at the bit fighter and isn’t much afraid of risk, it says a lot that she reacted...let’s describe it as out of character? This IS the woman who went to go fight Ghidorah all by herself, after all.”
“Neeko think that strange, too,” the Oovi-Kat admitted. “Very surprised, actually! Maybe not used to playing silly characters? Is hard to do that, I think. Let people laugh at you that way. And fire was not normal fire. Coming on fast. Maybe it all just too much at once?”
“And you kept it together. Not just saying good work though. I think you should examine that. In your memory, think it over, I think there’s a key to your sho’ma fix there.
“...And I hate to be this person, but...what Schmidt said. It’s better than nothing. Keep that in mind.”
Neeko suddenly found she had a lump in her throat. She swallowed.
“I’ll try.”
No comments:
Post a Comment