Chapter Text
It’s always quiet before the storm.
That’s how the cliché went, anyway. In reality for most normal people, life was more like a series of never-ending crises. Sure, one may stumble upon a “calmer” period, only dealing with little disasters and minor obstacles for a brief while, but the general hectic pace of daily life was far from quiet, and certainly offered no true relief before the next major catastrophe arrived. This was no exception for Caelus, who was beginning to feel like a more fitting saying would be something along the lines of “it’s always already windy or foggy or muggy or sprinkling before the storm, and then at that point, you’re just properly screwed.”
Those were all metaphorical examples, of course. Today, it was actually fairly nice out, all things considered. Granted, Caelus didn’t think he’d ever experienced foul weather under the endlessly moody blue skies of Penacony. He supposed that was all part of the dreamscape atmosphere. The so-called “Planet of Festivities” was a prime vacation destination, and unless some rich popinjay was planning a waterpark event, it simply wouldn’t do to have the mega-ship’s artificial atmosphere generate a rain storm, neither in reality nor the dream. All fine and well by Caelus’ standards, he thought, watching his sneakers as he took swinging steps over the miraculously polished road underfoot. All the errands he’d run, all the battles he’d fought over the past few—gah how long had it been since he’d been shoved into his current state of existence? A handful of months?—and his fit was still about as pristine as the day he’d gained consciousness wearing it.
As for calm in his day-to-day life, though; well, there was just no hope in that department. It had been about two months since the whole Sunday’s-Trying-To-Become-God thing had gone down. There was an ebb and flow to these things, Caelus had learned. Meet some new folks. Run some errands. Discover a brewing crisis. Manage the crisis. Kidnap a few new friends. Ride that astral train to some sick new location. Aaaand repeat. Except this time, there had been a slight delay; some sort of fueling issue created by stalling too long outside of Penacony, as far as Caelus understood. Apparently a few hundred gallons of diesel or a car load of space-coal wasn’t going to do the trick. While he prized himself as a jack of all trades, he certainly wasn’t an engineer (at least not yet); so, while the more knowledgeable crew deliberated on a way to get their butts back in gear, he’d continued to do what he did best…errand running.
Slowing his steps as he reached a particular intersection, he gazed around, searching the faces of the passersby. Caelus bit his lip, hesitating before stepping into the shadow of the building nearest him, some quaint two-story shop nestled amongst Penacony’s skyscrapers, and leaned against the wall as he searched his pockets for his phone. Unlocking it, he opened his planner app, “Quest Trackers!” the latest and greatest application for small businessmen like himself providing all manner of random services to the good people Honkai Star Rail™. Scrolling with his thumb, he ran down the list of items for the day:
Fetch groceries for the little old homebound lady. Save a cat that had gotten stuck on the windowsill of an eight-story skyscraper. Talk to a guy on behalf of a guy on behalf of another guy on behalf of the second guy’s wife because the first guy’s cousin needed to resolve her personal drama with the third guy’s employer. Offer a therapy session to a trashcan. And scale some other walls in some sort of anti-gravity chamber to collect these pesky treasure chests someone kept leaving upside down on the ceiling. Those were the real knots in his knickers; annoying bits of litter not even the Penacony janitorial staff had the skills to handle, so for some reason, it was up to him. At least he occasionally got some good junk out of them. Spare pennies. A sticker or two. Today, he’d found a half-eaten slice of strawberry short cake! Wiping his fingers on his pants, he choked down the somewhat stale cake as he added a checkmark to the final box on his list.
All in a day’s work for ol’ Caelus Trailblazer. Or whatever the frick his last name was. Hell if he knew. Abandoning his completed tasker list, he tapped into one of his phone games: “Sentient Billboard Crusher,” and slipped into the lulling sound of high-pitched ting-a-lings and trills as he worked his way to a new high score. So transfixed by the colorful barrage, he didn’t hear the increasingly impatient voice at his side until a tug on his sleeve broke him free of his trance.
“CAELUS!”
“What?! What?!” Jumping off of the wall, Caelus felt his phone slip from his fingers. With a forward lurch and flailing arms, he fumbled to catch it just before it hit the ground. Panting, he checked the phone over and back, looking for any signs of damage. A disgusted snort to his side turned his head.
“Seriously, dude? It didn’t even hit the ground.”
Standing in building’s shadow, right next to where he had just been loitering, a girl with pink hair and a thigh-high skirt watched him with crossed arms and a cocked hip. Though her hooded eyes were brimming with disdain, Caelus caught the slightest hint of a humored smirk at the corner of her mouth.
“Gotta be sure, March,” Caelus replied, carefully slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Tech’s not cheap these days.”
“Says the billionaire with the triple-sized suite.” Rolling her eyes, she blew a puff of air towards her bangs, flipping them away from her eye. “You’re addicted to that thing, admit it. You know that constant exposure to digital games can lead to dopamine desensitization? Do you want to become a socially isolated, lazy gamerboy? Do you, Caelus?”
Sighing, Caelus shot March an exhausted look. “I don’t think I’m in any danger of that.”
March squinted, but the look didn’t hold. A smile broke over her face as she dipped her head, swinging a fist towards Caelus’ arm in a light-hearted punch. Crying out, Caelus was too late to dodge and clutched the injured spot. March ignored his show, stretching her arms out over head as she turned and made her way towards the crossroads. “I know, I know. Just messing around. Did all your little side-quests go well?”
Letting go of his arm, Caelus caught up to March’s side with a few lengthy strides. “They’re not side-quests,” he muttered. “They’re super important jobs for people in need! And they’re how I afford upkeep for my triple-sized suite. Which I make maximal use of, by the way.”
“Suuure, you do buddy,” March laughed, glancing both ways before she skipped across the street, moving in the opposite direction of where Caelus had come from. “Really, I think it’s sweet, what you do.” Tipping her head from side to side and matching the gesture with her hands, she continued, “Sure, it’s a bit unconventional, and gets you wrapped up into all sorts of drama, but you know…you really make a difference in people’s lives. I mean, where would Penacony be without your trash-can therapy skills?”
“Hardy-har-har.” Caelus sniffed, putting a swing in his step as he kept pace with March’s peppy, skipping pace. Even after a draining day and now with March’s constant teasing, barely indiscernible from her sincerity, he appreciated her energy, feeding into his own depleted stores. “How was your day, then?”
Spinning to face Caelus as she walked backwards, March brandished her camera with a flourish. “Friggin’ fantastic!” she chirped, grinning ear to ear. “Man, you won’t believe the amount of origami bird shots I got. Like, you literally won’t believe it. They’re the only cute, natural wildlife around for me to take pictures of here. Kind of boring, actually. God, I would kill for a butterfly, or a rabbit. A dirty sewer rat even, would be an improvement.”
Caelus tipped his head to the side. “I can dig through the trash for you on all fours, if that would help.”
March scrunched up her nose. “Gross. No, it’s fine. In the end, I got desperate enough to start people-watching. Got some shots of a kid picking his nose, so that’s something.”
Possibly invasive, Caelus thought, but kept the thought to himself. One could say the same for his constant self-insertion into other people’s drama. “Gonna frame that one on your wall?”
“Ew, no way,” March shook her head. “It would totally throw off my aesthetic. But I bet I could hang it in the archive room for Dan Heng. He needs more whimsy in his life, don’tcha think?”
“Oh, definitely.” Checking the road as they approached their next crossing, Caelus put up his arm to stop March from skipping backwards into oncoming traffic. As soon as the car passed, he continued walking, pivoting to the edge of the sidewalk to give space to a passing pedestrian. March bounced along without a care in the world. She hooked her camera back onto the strap on her belt and span around in little circles as she made her own room for the occasional people who came between them or to the side, forcing her to elbow into Caelus. She continued to chatter on about her successes for the day; something or another about some tricks she’d picked up to optimize Penacony’s perpetual broody lighting. Caelus kept his eyes forward, guiding them through the streets as he made his way towards Oti Mall. Gradually, the natural blue hue of the smaller alleyways gave way to the amber glow of the central shopping district. The bustling crowds grew denser, louder, and March pressed closer into Caelus’ side as they worked their way through the perpetual-evening throng. As they entered a large hallway, Caelus clued back into March’s chatter.
“But you see, we all know that it’s just fake drama for the show. I mean, Cassandra Veyla and Alasdair have always been couple goals—the OTP of all of our hearts! We so would have seen this sort of trouble brewing earlier if they’ve really been harboring hard feelings. That’s how I know it’s just drama for the show. I’m not worried, like some of these other fools,” she said, flipping her hand nonchalantly into Caelus’ arm. She held her own phone in her free hand, scrolling through her social media feed.
Caelus opened his mouth to make a comment about her own brain-rotting phone usage, but she was off again, rattling on and on about the latest celebrity drama. March kept the paparazzi sites and gossip journals so close to her, one would think she needed it more than air in her lungs. Their chats together at the end of the day usually devolved into some sort of play-by-play report of which famous actor had worn what, or which celebrity family was welcoming in anything from a new baby to a devastating discovery of infidelity. Caelus didn’t mind. It was a nice break from things, to get lost into the world of frivolity and scandals, and it made March happy to relay, so who was he to complain? Besides, it was nice to occasionally hear about what some of his distant and busy acquaintances were up to, moving on with their lives in directions opposite of where his travels would take him.
Tuning out March once again, Caelus lifted his eyes to the gilded banners decorating the walls of Oti Mall’s exterior passage way. Faces and lettering on flamboyant advertisements hung high overhead, suspended in glittering silver and gold frames like ikons in a cathedral of abundance and leisure. One in particular caught his eye, causing a sudden slowness in his steps. Gazing down at the shoppers and travelers with soft eyes bordered by heavy lashes, a beautiful young woman posed in a flowing white dress. Her periwinkle hair formed a backdrop for her slight, graceful figure, and her tilted head was adorned with a golden halo that broke off into three prongs.
Below the portrait, a small group of pre-teens posed with gleaming grins as their guardian stood by, counting down as she posed to take a photo of the gaggle under their favorite singer. The poster was no exaggeration or a work of puffed-up propaganda. Robin was truly something special to behold. Caelus smiled as he watched the teens giggle and pull away from the poster, rushing to look at the photo. He hoped Robin was doing well, considering the fallout of his last bout of crisis-management AKA, the whole Sunday Thing. The poor girl really needed a break; much more than himself.
Tearing his eyes away, Caelus pressed on, grabbing the collar of March’s shirt as he pulled her out of the way of a group of people she was about to run into. As they pressed on into the central square of the Mall, Caelus caught sight of his destination—the glowing sapphire blue shards of the nearest space anchor. As he neared, however, he let out a small gasp and stopped short. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, tapping his fingers on March’s head to get her attention. “We need to stop by the big book shop.”
March looked up, glaring as if perturbed to have been wrenched out of her world of tittle-tattle. “What the heck for?”
“Dan Heng,” Caelus said, passing by the space anchor and heading deeper into the square instead. “I guess he’s been doing a lot of reading and organizing in the archive room since we’ve been stalled. There’s an encyclopedia series on different types of desserts throughout the galaxy and their health benefits that’s missing a volume. He’s really adamant that we find a copy to polish off the series.”
March hesitated and Caelus slowed again, turning to watch her. “Seriously? A dessert encyclopedia? Does the Express really need that?”
Caelus shrugged. “Dan Heng thinks it’s vital that we keep a good data basis of resources on board so we’re well equipped to handle anything else that gets thrown at us.” Clearing his throat, Caelus dropped his voice down an octave, doing his best impersonation with a raised finger. “You never know when you’ll wind up backed into a corner and need the perfect cake for a dangerous occasion, like fighting an automaton grizzly, or a flustered mother at her child’s fifth birthday party.”
Folding her arms, March shook her head. “Right…well, you have fun with that. I’m going to pop over to the sweet shop while you’re rooting your nose through books. Come get me when you’re done.” Not waiting for a reply, March twirled on her heel and headed off in a different direction, leaving Caelus to his own mission.
Luckily, dropping by Penacony’s largest bookstore was not too taxing of a final stop for Caelus’ evening. Just a short jaunt across the square and down another one of the Mall’s massive halls—Caelus slipped through the gleaming double doors without trouble, making his way to a self-help kiosk where he was able to search the store’s wares for the exact volume.
Aventurine must have been blowing kisses over his shoulder; somehow, despite the series’ age and niche topic, there was a collection in stock! Caelus moseyed over to the correct shelf and ran his finger over the colorful bindings until he found the right book. Pulling it out, he did a quick scan of the content inside, trying to ignore the increasing rumble in his stomach as he poured over the illustrations of delectable treats within. He may have fibbed a tiny bit in his conversation with March about whose idea it was that completing the archive’s series was so important. But man, oh man, he could not wait to slam down six mochi wagashi rice cake jellies in the middle of his next intense battle.
Tucking the book under his arm, he stuck his hands in his pockets and made his way to the check-out desk, whistling a little tune as he went. Drawing nearer, he heard the sounds of elevated voices, some commanding and one frantic. He paused for just a moment, then quickened his pace. If there was trouble occurring in the shop that didn’t concern him, golly gee whiz, he was sure going to get involved. However, as he weaved his way out of the menagerie of tome-filled shelves and came into view of the check-out desk, the altercation appeared to be subsiding. Three helmeted figures stood at the counter, one with a spear in hand, one making gestures as they spoke, and the third with hands on their hips. Caelus felt a pang of worry, recognizing the blue and gray, bulky uniforms of the Interastral Peace Corporation. What the hell were they doing in here?
A portly, balding man stood on the other side of the desk, waving his hands in submission as the IPC workers backed away, heading out the door. Caelus kept his eyes on their backs as he neared the desk. Meanwhile, the flustered clerk ran his hand over his head, smoothing out his non-existent hair as he tidied up the counter.
“Oh, hello Mr. Trailblazer!” the man sputtered with a smile as Caelus approached. Caelus narrowed his eyes. How did people always seem to know who he was or at the very least, feel so comfortable talking to him in a familiar way? He guessed he sorta just had that kind of face.
“T’sup?” Caelus replied with a nod. Placing the book down on the counter, his eyes flashed to the window beyond as he watched the IPC workers continue on their way. “What was that about? I’ve never seen IPC lackeys in the dreamscape before…”
The clerk laughed, tipping his head to the side. “Oh, all’s well, all’s well, really! It’s just that time of year.”
Caelus narrowed his eyes as the clerk flipped open the book, checking the interior cover for the price. “That time of year?”
The clerk gave a sagely nod and replied with a grave tone, “Tax season.”
Ooooh, right. Caelus glanced back out the window, but the IPC workers had already vanished.
“This is the one time of year that the Family can’t keep those freaks out of the Dream. These IPC agents, kid…” the clerk chuckled, a stressful smile plastered across his face. “They’re out to get me this year, for sure. One little slip up in our filing documents a couple years back and now they’re at my door every year, roughing me up over making sure all’s in order this time around.” Closing the book, he leaned over the desk, pressing his hand to the side of his mouth as if to impart a secret. Caelus couldn’t help but lean in to meet him.
“It’s all due to how well the store’s been performing! They know we’ve got credits to spare if they can hit us with a fine for something. All these check-ins and reminders, it’s all to throw me off balance!” Straightening up, he shook his head so vigorously, that droplets of sweat went flying. Caelus winced as one hit him in the eye. “They won’t get me this year, though! And not any other year going forward. That’ll be 4,500 credits, by the way.” Pushing forward a little terminal, he said, “Tap or swipe to pay.”
Fishing out his wallet, Caelus produced a sleek, silver card and pressed it against the terminal’s screen. “I feel you, man,” he said, brow furrowing as the terminal let out a little error sound. He lifted the card and tried again. “It’s gonna be hell filing my returns this year. The whole freelance trailblazing business is more confusing than you think. I’ve got like three different LLCs to maintain and that’s not to mention all my insurance policies, and how I have to keep track of sales tax on services rendered per region I’m in…Per planet!” Another error sound. He lifted the card and tried again from a slightly different angle. “It’s a nightmare.”
The man behind the counter clicked his tongue behind his teeth. “All part of life, I suppose. You know what they say…there are only two things assured in this life: death and taxes.”
Giving up on the tap-to-pay method after the sixth error, Caelus flipped his card on the side and swiped it. Finally, a little smiley face with a gloved thumbs up appeared on the screen, thanking him for his patronage. He chewed on his lip for a moment, a tiny montage of memories playing behind his eyes. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s just taxes.”
The clerk pushed the book across the counter and Caelus tucked it back under his arm. “Say, you’re quite popular around town for your odd-job services. I don’t suppose you’re any good with filing legal documents, are you?”
Caelus shrugged, then wiggled his arms in a groovy fashion, bending his knees. “I’ve been known to sling around paperwork from time to time.”
“Well, if you want to lend us those sharp eyes of yours come filing time, I’d be happy to give you a handsome tip for your help.” An awkward smile tugged at the clerk’s face. “I really can’t afford an IPC fine. I’ve heard gossip that they’ve implemented a new punitive system for major offenders. And with them…hell, a minor typo is a major offense.”
Caelus nodded and reached back into his wallet, producing a 3.5- by 2-inch card. Handing it over the desk, he said, “I’m sure I could swing by Penacony again sometime. Give me a call.”
The clerk nodded in appreciation, glancing over the business card. His grateful smile soon melted into confusion, however, as he discovered that the card unfolded into a trifold. Caelus didn’t blame him for his surprise. Only a handful of months ago, his list of services had only taken up one extra fold, but his growing mass of specialties had demanded extra space. Waving to the man, he slipped back outside the store.
Now to collect March and zip-zap home. He knew her favorite shops, so it wasn’t hard to guess where he could find her. However, before he could even get going, he heard a shrill cry, screaming his name over the droning, ambient sound of the Mall’s open space. Eyes widening, Caelus spun around, trying to identify where the cries were coming from. Before he could catch sight of the source, he gasped as two thin arms flew around his waist from behind, clutching onto him.
“Wh—March?!” Caelus just caught sight of her pink hair under his arm. “Hey what’s wrong?!” Wriggling around, he managed to get free of her death grip long enough to catch sight of her tear-streamed face before she ducked her head, hiding behind her bangs. Tensing, Caelus bent lower, meeting her at her level. “March, what’s happened?” His eyes darted across the square, scanning for any possible culprits as his free hand clenched before he loosened his fingers enough to grip March’s shoulder.
“Oh, Caelus!” March sobbed. “It’s the most horrible thing!”
“What is?” Setting his book down on the ground, Caelus gripped her arms in a gentle embrace. Heartrate skipping a beat, he tried to catch sight of her eyes.
“Just the most awful, most horrendous, most heart-wrenching news!” March continued, tears leaving streaks through the blush on her cheeks. “God, I’m sick to my stomach! I’ll never be happy again!”
Teeth gritting, Caelus squeezed her arms. “March, you’ve got to take a breath and tell me what’s going on. Did someone hurt you?”
“Only the cruel, twisted fate of this broken, disgusting world!” March was practically screeching. Despite his worry, Caelus felt his cheeks growing a bit heated with embarrassment as he noticed other shoppers glancing their way. March rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, then lifted her cellphone to Caelus’ face. “Look, Caelus! Actually, just take it away, take it away! I can’t bear to look at it again.”
Taking March’s phone, Caelus straightened up, keeping one hand on March’s shoulder to steady her. What could possibly have her so riled up? It took him a moment to process the words blazoned across her screen. It looked like a news article, with bold text at the top, paragraphs underneath in smaller font, and a picture of a periwinkle-haired woman inserted in the middle, shielding her flushed and reddened face from the photographer. Caelus felt his heart sink to his stomach, growing heavy as he read the headliner:
CELEBRITY SINGER’S HEART CRUSHED AS SHOCKING FOOTAGE OF RECENT BOYFRIEND EMERGES – TRUE FEELINGS REVEALED IN SECRETLY RECORDED VIDEO.
“It’s just terrible, Caelus, simply terrible!” March sniffled, her breaths coming short as she fought to get control of herself.
There was no mistaking her—Caelus’ gaze hovered over the image of the distressed woman in the photo, with her beautiful attire and sparkling halo. He scrolled over the article, catching words here and there as he fought to get a summary of what had happened. The culprit footage was attached further down; a poorly recorded video, likely on a phone, of an intoxicated looking man with a spiffy Stetson pulled low over his heavily mascaraed eyes. Caelus couldn’t hear the words over the din in the Mall, but the man’s pointed teeth were are recognizable as Robin’s halo.
“Poor Robin! Watch the video, Caelus, it’s just awful, the things that greasy freak said! And after everything that’s happened recently.” Pressing both hands to her eyes, March wiped away more tears, further smearing her makeup.
Swallowing, Caelus handed the phone back to March. His eyes drifted across the Mall’s square, slowly falling on the space anchor across the way. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so jazzed to get back home, fearful of what was awaiting him back up on the train. He took a deep breath, steading himself against a backdrop of March’s sniffling and hiccupping.
“Well…Shit.” Here came the storm.