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Chapter Text

California, Zone 6, “Ghost City” Abandoned Buildings,The Year of Dusted Daydreams

This is a campfire story alright, a mix of urban legends and lore of the greatest rebels and battles the Zones wouldn't forget.

Everyone knows that losing something is part of life, especially if your a Killjoy. Nothing good in your life ever stays so you gotta make it count while it's there and be ready for goodbyes any and every single day. But even with all that, you will never-ever get used to it.

And you change, Because nothing stays shiny and new out here. Not after you first experience the cruelty of BLI or watch friends die or even little things like the nights being too cold and there's no good food, you'll learn to change to survive. And Sometimes it won't be your choice to change but others. Well, everything has to change in the Zones, otherwise we'll all die a lot quicker.  

I've had two other names,kind of like two whole other lives. First in the Zones before Killjoys began the B.L.I Uprising (I was only a kid) and the second in Better Living Industries.

Today I’m a scar-covered killjoy and I hang out with my older brother Venom Slasher(He’s the one writing this all down for me).He said I’m around eighteen so that means basically an adult.

But I didn’t have a childhood, not really. I mean, in my head it’s like turning on the TV and the channel you see is static and a storm of white noise. It’s like that until I’m around twelve or so , when my “Life” begins. If that was a channel it’s back-to-back Mousekat cartoons. Penelope (She’s like my guardian, sorta because she’s the closest thing I have to a family next to Venom. She uses her real name ‘cus she said she’s neither zone nor city.) calls MouseKat “Propaganda with no plot” which was also what my life from twelve to sixteen was. MouseKat Cartoons where the picture is a little glitched and blurry but still watchable. I’ve forgotten the characters and their names but not the messages. Some of it frightens me and it still does. I won’t be writing about it for a long time.

I was kept in Better Living Industries then and I barely knew about the zones, a.k.a What’s outside Battery City or even what was outside of the building. I didn’t have freedom either but the woman in charge there who everyone called “The Director” said I had a purpose which was much more important.

Living there was kind of like going to school for me. Not that they taught me anything like History because we should be focusing on making a brighter future (that’s what the Director said) or crap like “Calculus” because it isn’t necessary for my life (That’s also what the Director said) But I did learn stuff like how to run fast and all the parts of a ray gun.

Which was actually useful because then when I turned sixteen there was an accident at Better Living, and I got to escape to the Desert with the help of the few kind, sane people there. And in the Desert you need your ray gun A LOT. Especially if Crows are after you for escaping , like me.

I was told to go to Zone 6, carrying all my possessions in a satchel. A necklace of Phoenix Which who is the Zone’s deity of the afterlife according to Penelope and photographs of my life that I barely remember. An old teddy which was stiched together rags, cd’s and a blaster which was already in there. Getting to Zone 6 was a long story but that was where I met Penelope who knew my family. I didn’t even know I had one until she told me.

And apparently there’s a lot more to my family than meets the eye. All of it to me were those white-noise memoirs but history to the rest of the zones…

She helped me find my brother Venom. Again, I didn’t even know I had an older brother. It was all a part of those static memories too that I can’t remember. But Venom knew everything. He told me everything I had ever kept myself up at night asking myself about.
He knew why I was in Better Living in the first place. And that’s why I’m writing this.

Both my Mom and Dad were rebels and me and Venom were raised in the desert which makes us “sandpups”. Venom teaches me all the zone slang but that word is what kids raised in the desert and grow up into killjoys are called. He said Mom fought in the height of the helium wars and taught him how to survive. She was pure zone-punk, according to him and totally slaughter-matic. My Dad was the opposite- he was a Scarecrow. Those are the guys who fight against killjoys, they…well, they’re basically bounty hunters and assassins for Better Living. However he was still a rebel in his own way.

“He led an uprising within BL/ind with all the lost and found that stuck out of the crowd. He took over vital plans and brought the thunder to their doorsteps. And he gave up his life to save you, to send a message to those who pulled the strings."

That is what Penelope always told me about him. She was alongside him when these “uprisings” took place. And after everything that’s happened in life, everything I don’t remember she wanted to write using old journal entries of his and other allies he had in B.L.I.
So I know the whole story, back to front and inside and out. About one of the deadliest nights where chaos from the Zones creeps into Battery City. One of the most rumored about rebels that 'Joys whisper about. 

It is my story too, I’ve learned. It’s got everything to do with me and that’s why I’m (well, Venom) writing this. There are many sides to a story, as Penelope says. And this is the one of the Great Fires, The Rise and Fall of Better Living Industries greatest weapon.

Chapter Text

Rebellion persists. They are risking the success of Battery City. The number of rebel activities is increasing, both within Battery City and in the Desert.
Employment rates of S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W forces are low. We require more forces in the city’s authorities to put a stop to the outlaws.

Border Patrol is operating 24/7 .

B.L.I are designing a new technology aimed to assist the Exterminators on patrols. More advanced soldiers that are also sustainable for our extermination process of anarchy and disobedience.

Construction of the Ultimate Weapon is underway. We require mass amounts of helium for it to be a success. Until then, we are searching for an alternate power source.

Pharmaceutical sales have been up since the launch of B.L.I’s new medication, aimed to boost productivity and numb emotions that come in the way. Research has shown that purchasing B.L.I products produce endorphins for the human mind. The Director approves and would soon share this news to the citizens of Battery City.

Our development continues, keep smiling.

Chapter Text

He had fought hard, but in the end was unable to evade the soldiers. This was all I was told about the new patient from various colleagues. However his file is only a page long.

His name is Beck, just Beck. Zone dwellers don’t have surnames as they have much more to worry about then keeping up a family legacy . He may have used some dramatic code name while in Desert but it doesn’t matter now, Beck will never see the Desert again. He was captured by a patrol of Scarecrows but he wasn’t captured alone so I’ll assume the Crows had a successful night. Captured around one am, Zone 3, for “Violence”. I mean, I know these fights start because a Crow spots a rebel in the city (or basically anyone in the desert). The Crow or their Guards would start shooting at them and the rebel runs and since nearly everyone in the Lobby or Desert carries a ray gun. They’ll realize that “fight” is far more sensible than “flight”. It’s a go–to excuse a Scarecrow as Better Living Industries eye’s, anyone living in the Desert or Lobby is living in.

It was Korse that caught him. Another hundred points for him I suppose. Sure that'll pay nicely. But Korse claimed he recognised  Beck. As another Exterminator known by the Callsign of Raze, one that had been confirmed K.I.A in 2002 while on duty in Outer Zones 2 when he had been shot down by an rebel according to our systems. Don't ask me how Korse recognised him, Raze wasn't an extraordinary worker.I've done my research and he was class three, and had an average number of kills under his name. Mainly Juvie-Halls who were just being stupid teens in The Lobby. He had an ex-wife who didn't care much for him, his death and his son, an six year old  who "vanished" not long after Raze is found "shot down" by sand worms. 

Well that was at least that's what we thought. Now that Raze or "Beck" (whether that be his zone name or actual birth name) is back in our company clearly we were wrong. 

He faked his death. 

Or somehow survived.

The night Beck was reported dead was one of the few completely failed patrols for a Exterminator. When both the Scarecrow and their Draculiods are all killed in an fight. This doesn't happen very often as BLI is meant to train Crows to be better then that, to survive aganist odds or if worst comes to the worst, send out an distress signal for backup. Legally, once we have confirmed the status of all those present in that patrol another Exterminator has to go retrieve the corpse, car and weapons of the failed group. Expect most Exterminators try to avoid that job because It must take an hell of an gang to kill both an Exterminator and their Draculiods. Some here believe it's taboo to return to a spot where an whole squad has been killed, after all what if the Rebels who killed them are just waiting for their next fight there? 

However now of course, It appears Beck has committed an crime. A pretty big one too. 

Treason. 

Abandoning his duties to go join the Resistance . He had family out there, an group of his own. The days of extermination were behind him. 

But that was never the last he heard of Better Living Industries. Far from it. 

As a Counselor for medication at Better Living Industries who has spoken to many Exterminators and workers, I know these things. I know more about those guys than I’m comfortable with when my career is being the inner-circle “Therapist” of the hitmens that Which of a woman hires. I’m not complaining , far from it, although I hate this company I won’t refuse it’s pay and security. I’m safer here than any other high-paying job that Battery City can offer, I’m on the side that’s winning the war. I couldn’t possibly let years of getting a pHd go to waste now. Plus, the mind of a killer fascinates me. 

However, considering the current status of our kill rates and the levels of crime out in the Desert that threatens us, Beck didn’t revive an execution or even imprisonment. From what I heard, an interrogation that lasted a few hours until it was concluded by the Director that he could serve a much better purpose then another burnt out corpse to be disposed of.

All I had to do was pull a few strings and cash in some favours (surprising how despite not having a gun, I have more influence over staff in Scarecrow Units then one might guess) and now I get to have the honour of cracking this returning Scarecrow…once Killjoy. Years I’ve waited for this opportunity. A fish inside a birdcage, a renegade forced to turn against his people.

Chapter Text

The Director: "I'm glad we manged to find you Raze. Clearly an Exterminator knows how to avoid other Exterminators...for over ten years too."

The Director: “I’m sure you’re slightly aware of the process here for Killjoys who have been taken prisoner…?”

((She never intervenes interrogations for starters, only if the convict is of particular interest. The Director takes personal offence to treachery , especially in how advanced the Crows are))

Beck *scoffs* : “Rumours…They're called “Prisoners” for a reason, No one expects them to live to tell the tale.”

The Director: “Then you’ll know that they live to become very different people. More…content with their lives. You could've been among them.”

Beck: “I’ll die before I let that cage-mad crap happen to me…”

((The Director whinces her face in disgust at his use of “slang”, I for one am still amazed each day with how Killjoys can find a word for everything.))

The Director: *She begins pacing around the room slowly, carefully analyzing the prisoner* : “ Unfortunately we don’t plan on executing you, nor do we plan on reprogramming you either.”

((She pauses before swiftly flicking through the file of notes,taken by the Exterminator who interrogated him. She seems to be considering something))

The Director: “You said you captured alone correct…?”

((Beck nods but from the footage given I can see how often he’s blinking. He knows the Director doubts him. There’s something behind those eyes…fear, tension,hope…?))

The Director: “But according to our guards, you weren’t fighting alone…correct…?”

((He looks up with a scowl of watchfulness. That hit a nerve. Of course any rebel taken for questioning wouldn’t want for their crew getting targeted next. But he looks so tense that I can’t help but think it’s more than a ally he’s thinking of…someone more…))

Beck: “I was ambushed for starters. Korse and his Dracs found me, then I fought back, like any other 'joy would.”

((He hesitates , just slightly adverting his gaze. He's lying though his teeth to the most dangerous woman in America. Of course, he may be hiding something or even someone…Sometimes we forget those Sand-worms got origin stories.But obviously that is what he must’ve been worried about earlier!))

The Director: “Tell me, How's the family? The one you have in the Desert. That "Wife" and two children...I recognise your son, he's grown up now hasn't he, from that city-boy to another reckless Killjoy... and I see you have a daughter now too."

((The two guards behind Beck frimley push him back into his seat as he tries to stand up. It’s like I can see his blood freezing from this recording.))

Beck *snarl*: “ How do you know that…?!”

The Director: “Well, if you’re the Father then perhaps you should’ve been keeping a better eye on them.”

((This set’s Beck off as he tries to stand up again, only to be pushed back into his seat by the guards. He looks both terrified and enraged. But c’mon, he must’ve known what he was getting into…Children are an annoying liability. This was inevitable. But if she’s implying what I think she’s implying…))

Beck*Hiss*: “You can kill me, torture me, whatever you want but whatever you have…Whoever you took…Just let them go, they had nothing to do with all this!”

((And of course, she just shakes her head. I mean, Of course I support Better Living but she does a great job acting like a total villain to B.L.I’s enemies. In the footage, The Director takes out a folder from under her arm and pushes a photograph in front of Beck on the table. I can’t make it out but I’m gonna take a wild guess and say it’s at least one of the kids. Beck buries his face in his head and mumbles something unintelligible. Meanwhile The Director stares at him poker-face as if she is totally unaware to the suffering in his face. She gives him a few seconds to take it in before speaking in the same still voice))

The Director: “ I have a proposition to make, if you’re willing to listen.”

Chapter Text

Dear Avery and Max

If you're reading this, then it’s too late. Don’t try to look for me. Don’t try to solve a big mystery over what happened. Don’t die trying to avenge me or anything stupid like that. I hope with all my heart and soul that where ever I am, alive or dead, this finds you in good health.

I am writing this so when you are old enough, you would’ve no doubt heard rumors about me. Whether I’m alive or not, people will talk. And as I am writing this, my future is uncertain and so are yours. But it is my duty to help you understand what has happened. I won’t write my fears down however. I always told you two to stay positive. Even when it seems like you're losing the fight, anything can change and anything can happen. But right now I need a miracle for everything to stay together.

I need to start by being honest. By explaining something I should've explained long ago.

I was one of Better Living's Scarecrows, long ago. 

It was never my plan, never my decision to join them. When I was Max's age , I lived in a far-off city in Europe called Santandre in Spain. It was near the sea, totally unlike the Desert. I lived in a small apartment with my Mudre, your Abuela. Back then the decine of Helium were just beginning to spread worldwide and countries all over were afraid. Weary of this "Better Living Industries". They wanted soldiers at the time. 

Men in suits would come knocking on the door of each house, looking for any young men who were strong and stable. If you didn't go, your family was arrested. I was one of them. It still haunts me how my Mudre cried, cursing at them and saying it was like an War all over again. But I wanted her to live, so I went with them, all the way to America. Learnt English and their slang. Was put to work, patrolling the Slum Districts for trouble, Met a girl and we had a son- Max and then she leaves me. I did everything I could to keep Max safe however. Those next six years I would struggle trying to care for him and hold up an job. My kills dropped and so did my pay and didn't want to "Change" by taking the pills. I was certain I could make something work for us. But I questioned my faith in Battery City, in the Director , in Better Living.

It was a long story on how I ended up an Killjoy after that. But I decided to take an risk, for Max's sake. To live in the Zones where the two of us, but most importantly him, could be happy with no rules to control our lives. I met another woman, an amazing, brave and honest one. One who helped me let go of my past at BLI, as bad as it was and showed me how beatifiul life on the edge was. She cared for Max, teaching him everything she knew to endure the Desert . And soon we had an kid together- Avery. 

The four of us- Beck, Valkyrie, Max and Avery. You three were more then an family to me, you were my team, my home, my favourite people.

On the day Avery and I were captured, we were all scouting for food and it was a dry, humid night. Valkyrie always insists you two join us. She was always afraid that if we left you two home alone, you'd be attacked. Which at first I was against- going on supply runs is dangerous work and I didn’t want to risk the lives of two more of the most important people in the world to me. But she always spoke about how ever since she was Max’s age, she had to risk her life to protect her brother after their parents died. From a young age, she had to pick up a weapon and fight with her life on the line for the basic necessities to survive. And she is right when she says that the same would happen to you two. But danger is everywhere in the Zones. You can't hide from it. But as long as you two were by our sides, Valkyrie and I could protect you.
Life out here is dangerous and unpredictable and I can only do my best as your Father but I cannot guarantee all our safety.

It wasn’t our first attack. We had been lucky before , thank the witch. But this time we weren’t.

One Exterminator and four standard guards. Five weapons against three (I said I wouldn’t let Avery touch a weapon until she turned seventeen like Max) in the sands of the Witches’s garden, neutral land which was often scarce of people . I was disarmed and took a hard blow to the jaw. And as I lay on the ground, the sound was pounding through my head. The only thought I could comprehend was that “This is it for me”. Valkyrie could save you two and get the hell out before things turned ugly.
My vision spun round and round and I tried to make out whose boots were yours, your Mother , those ugly Draculiods and the Exterminator. I gazed up to get one last look to hold on to as I waited for the shot from the Exterminator’s blaster. That's when I saw that one of the guards had Avery’s arm as Valkyrie and Max fought the Exterminator tooth-and-nail.

I stood up and my vision whirling around and my head throbbing. I broke into as much of a run towards her as I could manage , raising my gun. But before my finger could pull the trigger two of the other guards grabbed my shoulders, pulling me back. I screamed for her like the ground beneath me was being torn apart as the moon cast a spotlight on what was the beginning of everything going wrong.

I felt a strike of pain at the back of my temple and the immense throbbing of pain. The world in front of me spun and my eyelids dropped. I lost sight of Max, Valkyrie and the Exterminator. But Avery…the last thing I focused on was her eyes ; wide and frightened before I lost consciousness.

I prayed for your safety to anything out there that could help to the point that it felt like a second heartbeat to me.
Max and his Mother managed to rescue Avery from the Patrol’s grasp and they escaped.

Praying that I was safe at home with you,
my family,
my favourite people.
That we were all together .

But in my unconscious state all I could feel was the throbbing in my skull and the deep-pitted anxiety in my stomach of not knowing what was going to happen to me…and not knowing about you.

Chapter Text

The Director: “ I have a proposition to make, if you’re willing to listen.”

((Beck looks up,his expression doubtful and full of despair. I can imagine the rumours in the Zones about this woman that he’s heard. But I’ve heard parents have a concerning and self-sacrificial tendency to protect their kin. That’s gonna be his downfall here.))

The Director: “You and your new rebel friends never knew this before -not that you’ll ever be seeing the Zones again- But currently at Better Living Industries, in terms of defense…Things aren’t so bright. "

"You and your child were captured by one of our finest Exterminators, he is right now one of the sole reasons we haven’t fallen yet. However in the past few quarters, many of our Killologists have been terminated in battle…”

((Bull, she’s been revoking licenses left and right and “terminating” them herself. I know my medicine cabinet and there’s been high demand for potassium chlorine and the likes lately…But that being said, Exterminators do get killed in battles with rebels and the numbers of employed in Scarecrow ranks have been dropping. Lately those Sand Freaks have been getting an edge to them, learning from the Dracs and Crows. They're getting smart and that vexes me. ))

The Director: “Currently new technology has been in development on how to fix this problem before any harm comes to this beautiful city…But we need solutions in the meantime. Do you have any idea what this could be, Beck…?”

((Beck doesn’t reply , which is a bold move for him. He stays staring at the photo of his kid before eyeing her distrustfully. She just sighs irritably and moves on with her point. I’m surprised she didn’t just have him shot, she’s actually serious about keeping him unharmed. She fakes a smile and glances down at the photo in front of Beck))

The Director: “I understand. You’re worried about your daughter. She is in safe hands. Untouched and carefree as we speak. You have my word.”

((She speaks in this sickenly sweet tone then makes me shudder. Beck doubts her as he only stares daggers at the woman))

Beck:”Then let me see her. I want to know if she’s alive.”

The Director: “I would never lie to you Beck, not in an urgent time like this. But I can’t let you see her. Now, I’m afraid we have more pressing matters to discuss.”

Beck: “Then you're lying! Cut the crap and tell me what you want!”

((He snaps wrathfully and the Director takes a sharp, frustrated intake of breath. Clearly she has to come clean about her intentions or she may be left with no choice but have him executed. But does she really have Beck’s daughter? This will require more research.))

The Director : “We need more Exterminators. In desperate times, we have to take chances until our new technology is complete.”

Beck: “The hell do you mean…?”

The Director: “You’re re-employed in our Scarecrow Units . On strictly observed Lobby duty, of course."

((Her tone is stern…she can’t be bluffing…no, the Director never bluffs. And if the Exterminators are being presumably killed by killjoys- then why not see what is being done wrong? Get a Killjoy to show them or how they’d do it. That’s perfectly evil coming from her.))

((Beck replies almost immediately, protesting against the proposal))

Beck: “Not a chance- Those people killed my friends, my family! I would never join them or you, you bastards - Over my grave!”

((The Director scoffs full of malice and grins from ear to ear like a cheshire cat, she has a bargaining chip, a catch to the deal.))

The Director: “But it isn’t your grave that is in the crossfire here, Beck. It’s your daughter’s.”

The Director: "Join us once again- or I won't hesitate. She's Desert material after all." 

((She leans down and her voice drops to a hiss. Beck leans back in his chair, the two guards tighten their grip on his shoulders. It can be very likely now he attempts to fight back or escape, I would imagine. ))

The Director: “Right now, your youngest is alive and untouched, like I said. But you refuse this offer then I won’t hesitate to dispose of her pointless life like that-! "

((And she snaps her fingers sharply. Beck clenched his jaw and glares back at her trying to hide how distressed he must be for a parent but into this position. He looks to be contemplating his odds before eventually after the tension in the holding cell settles, the silence is broken as the Director strides over to the cell door and the guards behind Beck pull him to his feet, each pinning an arm behind his back. She opens the door but before she closes it, she turns back to Beck with a small smirk of having the upper hand.))

The Director: “The Guards shall escort you to visit your Daughter. I will require an answer to our “Proposal” by the end of the meeting. Until then, goodbye.“

((She leaves and is shortly followed by the Guards dragging Beck between them. This ends the interrogation but it certainly isn’t end of the road for Beck. He's a potential danger to Better Living if unsupervised. And Beck should know he’s on thin ice. One wrong move and his kid dies.))

Chapter Text

Dear Avery and Max

That was my first (and certainly not my last) encounter with the mastermind of the corrupt haven she calls “Battery City”, and we call "Hell" . I used to actually live in one of the City’s High Rises. It was good considering how the lifestyle there was killing me slowly. I met your Mother at the Slums of the city, not long after abanoning Better Living in the Desert and  with her saw the light of how awful the system was. We made tracks to the Desert like two bats outta hell. Back then there were only rumours of a rebellion going on out there. In those days I adored the thrill of the risk. Our odds were daring and I was with the heroine of the revolution.

But when two BL/ind guards have your arms in tow and are dragging you like a sack of junk to what will be one of the saddest, awful, most empowering moments of your life, that was not the moment to be taking chances. I had a choice to make a deal with the devil, to roll the dice with the Reaper. I was brought to a steel door that had a ship door lock on it but the guard simply pulled the handle to open it. They hauled me in and let go of my arms, letting me breathe.

Sitting there on the neatly made bed was Avery and I let out a sigh of relief. The Director was serious when she said you were alive…. Avery stroked her tousled hair with one hand as her head stayed focused on the floor, something she did when she was worried about something. And in the other arm she was hugging herself, pressing Hotstoch close to her chest. I approached hesitantly, unsure if I’d be pulled away. If it was all just a trick of the light and this place was already driving me insane.

“Avery?”

"Papa...?"

“It’s me…I’m here…It's okay.”

She looked up at my words, her face was wet with tears . But no cuts, no bruises… Just the same as I’d last seen her during the fight. With the extract mismatched hand-me-down clothes with no new tears or stains. “Untouched and Carefree” , like the Director said.I sat down beside her and put my arm around her shoulder. I could feel her shuddering with fear and inside I felt like darts were tearing my insides . Because I knew I had told her to fear this place, to fear Better Living. I had told myself the same thing because it was true . And I may not be able to protect us this time, unlike all those close-calls in the Desert.

“I-I thought you were dead- I thought, I thought we were gonna...” Averys voice trailed off, her brittle words quaked with her sobs. I held her close to me , because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to hug my own daughter again. Her head was laying against my jacket, a mental reminder to me that her presentence was real. Not a cruel hallucination.
I gently rubbed her arm, the feeling reminds me of every time she had a nightmare or a bruised knee. The touch of “everythings gonna be okay”.

“Hey, hey…No one’s gonna be killed. I’ll keep you safe, you know that, Birdie.” I whispered in a hushed tone. The same one I used for her and Max’s bedtime stories . “And you know I’m a good marksman. I won’t go down without a firefight and not without protecting you.” I let out a faint chuckle as I wiped away her tears with the cuffs of my jacket. 

I always said that to you two. Maybe back then I was referring to the claps I'd been in with Valkyrie and her gang. I could pixelate Cherries and Berries like stacking combos in a arcade game when I needed to. But then I only thought about my time before all that, at BLI. I was wrong not to tell you too. But I was afraid. You both grew up in a harsh world, molded by them and you knew that. Scarecrows and Exterminators were whispered about like Boogey Men. I didn't want to hurt you. But I never should've lied. And I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart.

But somehow even then I still couldn't bring myself to tell Avery the truth.

“There’s no need for tears. I’ll get us out Avery. We’ll be safe and sound sooner than you think. You have my promise, alright pequeña?"

She sat back with a doubtful smile and nodded. In her arms, there was Hopscotch… If you’re reading this Avery, I hope you still have that ratty, moth-eaten, sock rabbit. He’s seen his fair share of adventures. In not one memory of you, were you ever apart from that patchwork, stuffed bunny rabbit. I hope Better Living didn’t take him away from you or he got tossed in the static-sands of the Zones. He’s a reminder of me and Valkyrie. Your Family. But then you hugged him close to your heart, with his button-eyes gleaming back at me. One was round and bigger than the other, chipped one. And I also remember your smile at the nickname. Spanish was the language I was raised by...It's a little rusty around the edges today but I still remember some small words, terms of endearment for mi familia.

“What’s gonna happen now?” Her voice broke the silence, a question that I didn’t want to answer. I couldn’t hurt her with the truth, my choice.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose and let out a sigh, conflicted between the truth and her fear.

“I don’t know Avery, I’m so sorry…” I confessed in a low tone of voice. I took a deep breath, rattling my head for some kind of reassurance for her. “They want me to work here. I don’t know for how long or what I’ll have to do, but it will keep you safe, alright?”

She looked up at me, wide-eyed and beamless of how vague that probably sounded. To be in her shoes, right then and there, she needed to know what was going on. And then it hit me- If I’m meant to be an exterminator then what was going to happen to her in the meantime?

To us, Better Living Industries was all things death, destruction and violence. Total-control of everything that Killjoys held dear. I’ve watched life leave the eyes of allies who suffered the blast of a Crow’s weapon. On my grave, I would let my family join that list. Their names would never be in the mailbox for a long,long time…

I held her shoulders frimley so she looked at me and I lowered my voice so the guards wouldn’t hear.

“Avery, I need you to make me a promise, okay?”

She nodded, gulping back tears. I knew this cooperation and she knew the legends of its horrors. Of Clay-faced people and the Icebox. Medicine to cure headaches to heartaches and make you smile in the midst of a storm.

“Don’t believe anything they say to you. Behave, please. I know how much of an troblemaker you can be. But just stay on their good side, please. I can’t bear the thought of them hurting you. And If they harm you -in any way- , you need to tell me. Because I’m going to get us out of here, I promise Avery.”

I brought her in again for a hug and kissed her forehead. Avery’s lip was trembling as she forcefully wiped away the tears with the back of the sleeve of her duffle coat.

“Hey,” I smiled as I stood up, speaking louder now.

“You're brave and strong. The most amazing kid in the world. Promise me that won’t change.”

I then took out my necklace from under my jacket, pulling it over my head. Strong elastic with a charm of the Phoenix Witch. I have had that necklace since I decided to join the Killjoys, through every firefight and endless nights . It was more than a good-luck charm to me. I pressed it into Avery’s hand as she marveled at the gesture.

“Keep it safe, alright?It protected me in the Zones, so It’ll protect you here.”

“I promise…I’ll see you again right…?”

Her voice was hopeful and I felt my eyes watering in guilt and fear. I was so afraid…that it was the last time, I had no idea if one of us could die tomorrow. But I’ll take on every Crow if I need to.

“Of course you will. You have my word of honor, Birdie.”

Then I brought in for one last hug, dreading the moment I’d have to let her go, but determined this wasn’t going to be our last.

The Guards dragged me away back to the interrogation room. The Director wasn’t present this time. The photograph of Avery was also gone. Now there was a pen and a piece of paper. I was told to sit and I stared at the page , reading over the words at the top. The familar words gave me dread.

S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W UNIT SERVICES - EMPLOYMENT CONTRACT-

I couldn’t let Avery die. But not long before me and Valkyrie had Max, we fought back-to-back in the Analog Wars and all its gore and glory. I was never seen as “Bullet-Proof Face” unlike Valkyrie or her brother Cola. I was trusty with a blaster and I kept others alive. Brought masks to the mailbox for the Phoenix Witch, so their souls would pass peacefully… So many of them were people who fought alongside us because they believed in an better future, an actual one. I had only fought with them but the thought of fighting against them made my stomach turn unpleasantly.
“You made a promise to keep Avery safe and to get her out.”

“And I will keep her alive. I’ll focus on that, getting us out.” I thought as I signed the page.

We’re gonna find a way somehow to escape Better Living Industries. I won't let them win this time, somehow. 

Chapter Text

“Doctor Hector, pleasure’s mine. I don't believe we've met.”

I shook the exterminator’s hand firmly. He quickly tugged it away as he continued to glare wearily at me. My first time meeting a “Killjoy”, albeit one on a loose thread, with the foundations  of an Scarecrow. All the things I’ve learned about his kind over the years...

Beck doesn’t offer his name back, rather he just gives me the “cold shoulder ” so I take my usual seat at my desk and open the laminated file that I was handed earlier on him .

“Of course I know plenty about you Beck , Interesting case I see... Must be a fan-favourite ‘joy if the Director’s keeping you around. Usually the rebel gets shot and any young survivor is placed into care. But your past with us was an surprise. Not much Crows go down the "If you can't beat them, join them" route when things get rough. ”

I replied as I let the document open on the desk, but he didn’t bother to lean forward and read it.

“Of course I know what happened. Your reasoning for being here is unfortunate and tragic. Extermination are a voluntary programme set up by Better Living Industries to help protect our cities. For people who want to fight for a safer, secure future, from the “good of their hearts”. But for you, I see, joining their ranks is a prison sentence. But at least it's not your first so you're aware of the process I'm sure.”

And across the desk, Beck still has the same angry scowl on his face. It’s clear this isn’t getting through to him and I’m only a minute away from blowing my own fuse with this stone-faced scumbag.

I let out a long held back sigh and pitch the bridge of my nose where my glasses lie.

“Y’know the silent treatment isn’t going to get you anywhere, Beck. Can I call you that? I don't believe in the "Callsign" crap. ”

This causes him to lose it as he scoffs and takes an annoyed glance around the office.

“You think you understand all that’s changed around me in the past few fucking hours?!”

Beck spits out in spite as I grin, chuckling . His hostility is amusing.

“I’ve seen the interrogation footage, she really has got dirt on you, huh? Did you know this is my first time actually speaking to a Killjoy, even an half-arsed one?  I was told time and time again that you lot were a rowdy, dangerous, reckless bunch. Well, our propaganda got one thing right, you sure as hell are stubborn and uncooperative...”

The Rebel just tapped his foot rapidly as he leaned back in chair and stared at the ceiling in his hopelessness.

“They took my daughter...you know that, right?”
I nodded solemnly. He’s finally talking , so now it’s important I show empathy. Something he isn’t expecting here.

“I am aware that you signed a contract to the Director, yes. You were captured and then threatened. ” I took a moment to sadly shake my head. “Life’s not fair like that...”

“Not fair?”

He repeats, Beck’s face screwing up in anger.

“Not fair?! That kid is of no importance to you! And you can tell your boss that I couldn’t give two shits about the lack of Crows out there, ghosting other ‘joys as we speck, I left that life! She should’ve just got me dusted by now!”

“Expect you have no choice!”

I snap, banging my fist on the desk to alert him

“Beck, I understand what they’ve done to you. You're a Crow now, again- everyday is gonna be taking pills and “ghosting” rebels until the day you die or you become useless to them! Any misconduct could result in your child dying but I’m here to help.”

I let that settle, as Beck’s glaze remained focused on me. No intimidation he’s trying to do will ever work in this office so I click my pen and tap it on the desk in a steady beat. I speak, this time with a calm and understanding tone, one a teacher uses to address a student that their trying to understand.

“Rest assured, your daughter will not be harmed in any way. After all, we're not total monsters, here at Better Living Industries.”

I offer with a sight smile, a friendlier one. One I hope he considers to be less intimidating. But the rebel still looks troubled...that kid is still on his mind.

I don’t think Beck believed me. I suppose maybe I might’ve felt the same thing in his shoes, but I had no authority currently on his kid’s whereabouts. He’ll be weary for a long time. If Better Living wanted to take a fish out of water or in this case, a rebel out of whatever forsaken Zone they found him in, and force him into the Scarecrow Units then he should’ve been at least medicated or reprogrammed first. But who knows, maybe The Director wants an Exterminator with an more "natrual and self-taught" style as fighting. Or as I prefer to call it: "Bull in a China Shop". 

But at the mention of his daughter, Beck lifts his head slightly, his gaze flickering in interest. I’ve got his attention now. Suddenly, this all mattered to him and all it took was one little, tiny reassurance. That's what'll get him going, what'll control him. It's like holding the carrot over the Donkey's head. 

“How do I know that’s the truth...? About Avery’s safety.”

He questioned, still tapping his foot obsessively as he slumped in his chair. He wouldn’t meet my eye and rarely blinked. But his eyes- they were wide, like he was wired awake by fear.

I rigidly shook my head in response.

“Unfortunately I’m only your assigned Counsellor, I don’t have access to that kind of information, yet .”

A lie won’t hurt. I could very possibly get Beck the answers he wants by pulling a few strings, but then I’d be alone on my goal of getting out of here.

“It is my job to help to you progress as a new Exterminator-“

“I know that! You're explaining this to me like I willingly choose this job!”

He restored, his fists shaking with wrath.

“You don’t understand my past, I’m not like the others, I’m not some murdering assassinating psycho like the rest of you, and I refuse to become one!”

“Well then you’re in luck, because I’m not like the other workers here either. I don’t agree with the power Better Living has over us, their methods of dealing with problems. You’re a Father put in a difficult spot and it shouldn’t be that way.”

I steadily put my hands in front of me as I took a swift glance to every corner of the room, just to be sure. This is my chance. All or nothing. Beck may not understand but his dire case as a Scarecrow is my ticket out of here and perhaps his too, if he's actually useful and has a bit of common sense. 

“I shouldn’t be telling you this...but it isn’t gonna hurt anyone. After all, my office is one of the few locations in Better Living Headquarters that aren’t surveillanced or bugged. What comes out is what I choose to tell the higher-ups.”

I made sure to put a soft emphasis on the words that’ll get his attention. Beck sat still but his eyes flickered round the room in doubt before settling on me. There it is again, that pitying desperation.  The walls in my Office aren’t exactly paper thin. What happens there, stays there unless if I think otherwise.

“Do you understand what that means to you....?”

My voice dropped to a whisper.

“Beck, have you ever heard of the quote “The enemy of my enemy is my friend”...?”

“No…? Why should I give a mierda about some-”

“Shush,” I held up a hand, halting his sentence. “What I’m saying is we have a common enemy, you and I. We're after similar things. We should help each other.”

He stared at me with an open jaw and blinked in utter confusion.

“To be frank, I’m just another victim of the system here, another soul crushed under the Director’s heel. But you- you're different from every other person here.”

“Why would you want my help?”

“Why not? Know your enemy. You’re the only person here right now who is immune to BL/ind’s propaganda, the pills, the whole shebang. Only Exterminator with a whole lot more to lose then a paycheck.”

He huffed , clearly agitated. I could tell that it took a while for Beck to wrap his head around that sentence.

“I can tell you have questions, I’ll try to answer them to the best of my ability.”

He leans forward, finally engaged in the decision. He finally has something to hold on to; the hope I’m offering him.

“Your one of them. For years people from this City have hunted people just like me, my family. Why should we trust each other?”

“Because I’m of great importance to this hypocritical megacorporation of dictator , ruling my life and others. I believe the power should be in different hands, in the people’s hands. Democracy and all that jazz...well more in an "The World is an Mess and BLI Started it"”

I stood up and walked over to the window, harshly pulling aside the monochrome curtains to look out at the streets below. The people looked like ants, so easy to squish under my shoe and easy to fool with any fickle flair but even from this height I know they’re all frowning. Beck’s glaze follows me.

“Better Living Industries rose to fame quicker then a naked flame in an rainforst. No one could stop them. Anyone who tried was never heard of again, vanished, "Nice knowing ya!".A little like you Killjoys...You hid in Desert, an hunting ground to the Exterminators. I’ve been here for a long time. I’ve toed the line, stayed on the good side of “her highness”, climbed the social ladder enough  to protect myself from their wreath and satifsy my needs.”

I spoke bitterly, glaring at the citizens going about their daily lives below. Beck remained silent. I turned back to face him.

“But I know things. I know how to bring the great “Better Living Industries” to their knees. If you help me , I can help your daughter. We’ll both get what we want.”

And then as soon as I was about to continue I was shoved to the side, trapped between the wall and Beck was starring daggers into me, his fist clenching my throat. I gasped out, trying to free myself to no avail as tried with all my strength to yank his hand off of my neck.

“I’ve killed before, tearing holes in your filthy Pigs and Dracs...For my family’s survival and for my own. Not to mention my record as an Exterminator. You could be lying!” Beak hissed as he clenched his teeth like a animal seeking it’s dinner. “This could be a sick game to your lot, to get me dusted!”

I croaked out, trying to keep eye-contact with him. God, he really was strong...

“You....won’t....”

Beck only tightened his grip and I coughed out in pain, struggling with each breath as my lungs fought for oxygen.

“You can’t....kill me....you idiot....”

The Rebel tilted his head in response.

“And why’s that...?”

Finally he loosened his hold on my neck, giving me leeway to talk in proper sentences again, wheezing in relief.

“Because- no one else will help you...if I die...” My voice was hoarse and sore but I swallowed painfully and continued. “Your both gonna die in this City, one way or another... But I know how to get you both out , if you could trust me !”

Beck let go of my neck as I slumped back against the wall, fixing my tie after the unexpected attack and he stepped aside, his chest heaving with adrenalin.

The rebel folded his arms in contemplation before speaking again , in a even voice, shaking slightly with uncertainty.

“I want my family to be safe. To raise my kids without fear, because while Avery and I are stuck here, my partner and my son are still out there and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them , for us all to be safe. I want us to have a future where they don’t live in fear of Crows and Dracs.”

"Or your past." I added.

“Your a Father, I understand your anger. But maybe the Director’s biggest mistake was forcing a family man to work for her.” I smirked, half-heartedly.

“You are hunted like venison by them and they’ve torn your world apart, for better or for worse. I’ve grown up in their system and I’ve seen it all. More than you could ever imagine.”

I lowered my voice and stepped in front of him and offered my hand.

“So , shall we make a deal? Promise to help me take down these bastards and I’ll help you get your daughter out...”

Beck nodded before grasping my hand without a second of hesitation.

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

Our second meeting was the next morning, Nine on the dot. 

This time Beck had a new jacket, a mahogany blazer, curiosity of Better Living clearly. But on his shoulder was the “X” patch that identified Scarecrows and Draculoids. Apart from that, he hadn’t bothered to shave or comb his hair so he still looked like he’d been living on the streets, but I suppose the Desert is no different. Not to mention the alarming eye bags. 

“I should congratulate you on surviving your first night. I did have my doubts...”

Beck sighed irritably and slumped back in his chair.

“They’re giving me my first patrol tomorrow, you said you’d have a plan.” he inquired.

“ I grinned “Of course I have a plan, well- sort of.”

Beck seemed like he was about to argue but I stood up and opened the office door, beckoning him to follow.

“As your assigned Counsellor it’s my job to keep you in check in your line of work. You’ve been an Killjoy for the past few years, tell me about the Exterminators , in your eyes.”

I tried to encourage him as I spoke in a quiet tone so not to get any unwanted attention as we stopped in front of the elevator, awaiting the door to open.

“Pigs with guns.” He said bluntly with a scoff. I huffed in annoyance.

“Try describing them -when you see a Exterminator , what do you see?”

This time instead of rushing into an answer, Beck stroked his beard, pondering something. The Elevator door slides open and we stepped inside. I swiftly pressed the button to shut the doors before any one could join us.

“Flashy cars...plain,standard blasters...Draculiods...”

“Bingo!” I snapped my fingers and pressed the button for one of the underground floors.

“As an Exterminator, you’ll won’t work alone Beck. There’d be Draculiods to.... supervise you, since you’re new and a special case.” I explained as we descended further and further down the building, the rumble of the lift fulling the silence. 

“Those Dracs are the Director’s eyes and ears, make sure you aren’t up to any tricks. You've heard of them before, right? With your past and all....?”

Beck let out a an exasperated exhale and leaned back against the wall.

“Then what do those plastic Draculas got to do with me, and you , and all of this...?”

“Well I have a plan to exploit that rule...” I put a frim hand on Beck’s shoulder, giving him a million-carbon smile of "trust me, this is the real deal".

“You see my dear Crow that soon- very soon , there’s gonna be quite the change in the Draculiods... The Director is adding some “life-changing tech” to those rubber masks...” I leaned in closer and dropped my voice to a hushed tone. “She claims it can raise the dead, control the brain better then any miracle-pill.”

I let go of Beck’s shoulder and gently pushed him away. He had some perplexed, look of awe on his face. Then I remembered he was possibly thinking of his rag-tag gang back in Zones, who’d soon be facing a whole new Draculoid army, scarier then they could ever imagine. But we have other matters to attend to now, I’ll offer my “Sympathy” later.

“It means we need someone else to help us for my plan to work, to get “Big Brother” off your back, someone to pose as an Draculoid, but I think I found someone.”

Beck blinked in disbelief and raised a eyebrow, to be frank I was also surprised when I stumbled onto the next potential ally that could help me- or should I say us bring down Better Living. It wasn’t easy since Beck came from the Desert, where all those dust rats do is hate BLI, he’s one-of-a-kind. But then I heard about an interesting case down in Detention Centres... not just some good for nothing kid spray-painting their hate on City walls, but someone a lot more...deadlier then that.

The Elevator pinged and we stepped out into the seedy and shading looking hallway. The only people down there were the permanently smiling BLI guards and their heavy guns as they patrolled up and down the Hall. They wouldn’t attack us unless we attacked them or were especially disruptive. It was best to ignore them so I lead the way, Beck looked around , unsettled.

“Why the hell are we back here?” Beck questioned as he trudged behind me, glazing around at every far-off security camera and blinking light above.

“Hm ?”

“I remember this hallway. I was dragged through it to your interrogation room...” He grumbled.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “You could keep your voice down if you’re gonna bring that up again Beck, If the Director seriously wants you to be an Exterminator again then you at least gotta pretend to care about “Helping Society” , especially in front of your co-workers and their dullsvile lives. And anyway, you’re not the one bring interrogated here, you lucky duck, or should I say crow...?”

“Shut it, Pally.  How am I supposed to "Act Cool" in front of the bastards you try to kill me every second fucking day? Like there’s nothing wrong with that...” He hissed with a dry chuckle. "What about Korse? He's the one who brought this on me!"

"You'll just have to stay out of his way or else I'll have no choice but to step in and act like some fed-up teacher breaking up a fight between children."

I checked my clipboard for my notes and quickly punched in a code into a keypad that lead us down another hallway this one filled with the cells of Killjoys, City Delinquents and BL/ind traitors. Each cell had steel doors, a small slot of bars into look into Beck stared at each one as we walked by, narrowing his eyes even more.

“Is this...?”

“A prison, yeah. Not extactly an Rential Resort. Mind you, we treat this prisoner in question like a celebrity. She's gotten quite famous ever since she was caught. Some say she's crazy, some say she's a beast. Either way, The Director's relived to have her locked up at long last. ”

I replied as we stopped in front of a iron door, another keypad present at the door. Inside was an eerily silent and I felt a pit form in my stomach. What if she was already dead? No, knowing her importance, her execution would’ve been a big deal, an sick spectacle of irony to make an example of those who dared to defy death.

“Consider this a field trip on your first day as an Scarecrow, Beck. We’re here to speck to a rather particular inmate here, one that may be of use to us.”

Chapter Text

Any moment now I’m expecting the Grim Reaper to knock on this iron door and lead me by the hand to the “Promised Land”.

Some creature with a raggedy cloak and a bone-white skin with eyes that burn into our minds. A scythe in hand and a raven on his shoudler How fitting...

Am I trying to comfort myself by saying I’ll go to a heaven of sorts? I never indulged in worship but I always thought there’d be a “Death” and a “Creator”. A place where nice things go and everything else burns somewhere out of sight. That’s where I am going. To an “Hell” of sorts. Funny how all these thoughts come rushing in at the last moment... If Finn really didn't make it, I know , I just know someone kind and radiant like him is an angel. He would never have to worry about what his final destination is. 

I lay in a cell, my hair tangled and knotted around me. The ceiling is grey and lifeless, and the food at the cell door remains untouched, and stone cold by now. I've been left without any kind of pills of medication for a day or two now but the cold still creep up on me, making me shake uncontrollably at times. I fight the urge not to go on my hands and knees and scrape the dirty prison floor for the pills...I won't give those bastards pleasure of watching my desperation.  And they know that it's not the hit I'm after, the chance to hoard the pills and attempt. They'll never let me go out so peacefully. It'd be mercy. 

Maybe I can serve myself, it’ll be my last victory that if I’m marked for death, I get to screw over Better Living one last time for everything they did the same to me.

Finn is gone. He could be dead. And it would be my fault because I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t return the favour. Because of him I survived for so long. That idiot better survive for both our sakes. He’ll outsmart them, I hope. Buy himself some time.

My name will not matter any more once it’s over. It’ll be left in the dust. BLI will make sure I’m remembered but I won’t waste the time I have left thinking of how I’ll be seen by others. There’s only one person this City who truly knows me.

But all my thoughts come back to the same thing: I am going to die soon, in this decayed mess of the city.

A decayed mess of a city we were told was a promised land of success and purity.
I was nothing but “Guns for Hire” for Better Living as they slowly took everything I cared about away. I took the lives of others who were afraid and trying to protect the thing’s they loved, just like me. Witnessed chaos take hold of an small tight-knit S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit and shake it until we were left with nothing but our own grunges to tear at each other, looking up at the sky and dreaming in envy of Battery City as we were sheltered by trees that blocked out the sun. I watched the skies burn and buildings tumble. I ran for so long, his hand in mine and all in vain.

Now the only person I have ever loved is gone to live a long and well-deserved life and I have lost all reasons to fight for Better Living.

I am going to die and I am going to die by own terms. If I get no “Last Meal” then I choose go out my own way.

Better Living Industries will have no say in it, just this once.

This is it, I'm ready.

My final move in a losing game.

Chapter Text

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Hello...?

Mayday , Mayday, Mayday,

This is Ash Valley Forest S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Units, in the City of Refinica, State of Wyoming.

This is my third time sending out a distress signal, we don’t know if you received our previous two, but this is urgent.

My name is Finn and I’m a class three Exterminator working at the Ash Valley Forest S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Dispatch Unit Block A, Combat Zone 13.
There are two others with me- Our head Exterminator Rook of Class two and Trinity of Class three. Our fourth party member Thatch of Class two expired this morning due to blood poisoning.

Building has been attacked by an small nuclear device containing the radioactive gas “Radon” , causing radiation poisoning to many of our Crows, Guards and other staff. Exits are blocked by rumble, food and water is contaminated. Many have died, some are injured. Rook has already showed symptoms such as coughing up blood. Trinity and I don’t process the medication to help him.

He said...he said he has a son, an class three exterminator in Battery City...

We require immediate assistance. Our Administrator told us that Battery City’s S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Units would help us. He hasn’t been seen since the explosion, that message was passed on by word of mouth. It’s the last we’ve heard from him. This is our only hope of surviving.

///////////NO SIGNAL//////////

Chapter Text

“Obscene as cancer, bitter as curd...”

The prisoner 142 lay as if she was sleeping as we watched her from the barred door. This was her, the one who could apparently “be of use to me”. She had hallowed cheeks and ghostly pale skin. I know from my time in the zones that this woman obviously didn’t eat much. Her hair was long and ragged with tangles, and her face was smeared with dirt, and she had prominent eye bags that dragged out these doleful, sad eyes. Prisoner 142 didn’t look like a killer. She looked only a few years older than Max, possibly early twenties.

“Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -”

She was reciting some old rhyme as she stared at the cell’s ceiling melancholy. Even when we stood at the door she didn’t stir or give us a glance. Hector cupped a hand over his mouth and whispered that he didn’t think the prisoner was mentally stable. Probably from the lack of medication. Maybe that’s he believes as a Doctor for Better Living. If she really is an Exterminator, then being in detention must mean she’s suddenly cut off from whatever pills she was taking.

“My friend, you would not tell with such high zest to children ardent for some desperate glory,”

Hector said this would be my first proper job as an Exterminator. But we both knew it wasn't my first interrogation . Legally, we shouldn’t be “interrogating” her, let alone here but Hector insisted that he could make it work, slip under the Director’s watchful eye. I’m gonna say it now, I don’t trust that motherfucker. He’s too centre-city and a spearey silver-tongue if I ever saw one. But he’s right about being the only one with the power to help Avery. And without him, I would be dusting off my own people, my own allies... I can’t do that. The feeling makes me feel a sense of dread that makes me want to tear at my flesh.

But in front of me was another professional Crow, one considered too traitorous to live. Once surely, she had killed before, seen the life drain out of eyes. Why did she choose that...

“The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.”

She continued to repeat that line over and over. The Prisoner’s voice was husky, and she drew out each word and it haunted my head, right down to my bones. It cracked as if she’d been crying. Or would cry.

“Let me do the talking to start. Remember act professional. You can’t slip up otherwise we’ll lose our chance.” He dictated in an hushed tone. “Anything that flies can fall, what you're seeing now is a Crow’s fall from grace.” He then cleared his throat. No response, so Hector knocked on the door, three times and finally she raises her head, her long hair falling away from her face.

"Who dare knocks on my chamber door...?"

She calls it a chamber. Likes it's some lavish cell for a high-ranked Exterminator. Maybe Hector has a point, maybe she is crazy.

"Come into the light. We need to talk." Hector says with an air of authority.

The Prisoner approached wearily, like an animal lost in unfamiliar territory. Her eyes bored into ours, watchful and alert. She stood up, her clothes of a plain but durable shirt and brown trousers was strained in sweat and dirt.

“I said I wanted Battery City’s finest for my execution.”

She spoke as she rubbed her eye with a bony hand. Hector cracked a smile and shook his head.

“We’re not here for your execution, Prisoner 142. I understand you were an Exterminator yourself...?”

142 just glared at him as her hands wrapped around the metal bars.

“If you want to live, you’ll be respectful to us.” Hector answered to her silence and shifting his weight from side to side. I folded my arms and leaned back, letting Wise ass take the reins for introducing me to the case of this prisoner.

“So, SCT 30267 or better known as Trinity...” Hector spoke in a superior way, like he wanted to make it obvious to Trinity that one wrong move and he could have her crushed like a bug under the heels of another Crow.

“But of course, since your license is revoked that name means nothing so in that case...Miss Penelope Cecil...” “Why don’t you come with me and my college? We believe we may have an offer for you; one you couldn’t possibly refuse.”

Chapter Text

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

--------------------RECORDING BEGINS-----------------------

Dr Barrett: “So, Ms Cecil-“

Trinity *Aggravated*: “That’s Trinity to you, scum! Just because I’m on death row doesn’t mean I’ve lost my honour!”

(Dr Barrett puts his hands up defensively and nods in apology)

Doctor Barrett *Sarcastic*: “I’m sorry then , Trinity. Does the name give you a reminder of who you were before joining our ranks? While your in these cells , under questioning, I’ll speck to you however I like, Miss Penelope. Or, is “Penny” better ? ”

(Trinity scowls at him and doesn’t comment. To refer to an Crow to their name pre-call sign is a sign of an lack of respect. Professionally you are required to refer to Exterminators only by their chosen Call Signs, if they’re on duty or not. The Prisoner can’t do anything about it however, her wrists are cuffed behind her.)

(Meanwhile as this is happening the partner, Trainee Crow Beck is flicking though Trinity’s case file. He’s indulged in the contents, trying to understand it as quickly as manageable. Its like trying to compete the homework as the teacher’s collecting it. But Barrett is covering for him fine, keeping the Prisoner’s focus on his banter before moving on to the difficult questions)

Doctor Barrett: “Let us start with something basic, Can you tell me why are you here?”

Trinity : “A number of things, according to your Director...Some true , some not...How about your friend tells me? He seems deeply engrossed in my tale. Or does Battery City really elinguate their Crows? Can he talk?”

(Realising she’s referring to him, Beck looks up and glares. But unlike Barrett he choses not to engage but instead focus on the task)

Beck : “City of Refinica, that’s Wyoming right? You’re not Californian?”

Trinity *Grins and scoffs*: “No shit Sherlock. Never seen an outsider before?”

(In a way, She makes a point. S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Units across Better Living Cities will tend to keep information about each other private to the public. They don’t want people learning about life elsewhere, only what different Cities produce.)

Beck *irritably* “I’m trying to make some progress here Trinity...”

Trinity: “So you and Doctor Strangelove there are doing the “Good Cop/Bad Cop” thing , huh? I really expected better from Battery City, being so “Big, Bright and Beautiful”...”

(Beck and Doctor Barrett each ignore the Prisoner’s mocking. The Doctor sees it’s time to let his Trainee take control and ask the questions. His first duty as an Crow)

Beck: “It says here you were involved in processing contraband, theft, self medication, grand theft auto, participating in inappropriate activity and possible voluntary manslaughter and second degree murder...”

(He lists off the crimes, his eyes widening at the amount. Or maybe he didn’t realise how strict Better Living is or how serious Trinity was)

(Trinity leans back as much as she can in her chair and half-smiles in triumph almost. One would think such a list of crimes would belong to an Juvie Hall)

Trinity *smug*: “Check, Check, Check, Check...Check...Check and Check.”

(There’s a pause as the two men are a little shocked at how quickly she admitted to them all. But Doctor Barrett talks next, clicking his pen on the table.)

Doctor Barrett: “You’re the highest ranking Crow alive from Ash Valley. I’m sure your pound of that?”

Trinity *frowns* : “ ”Only one left alive.” So I’m highest ranked by default. And for the record, I’m sure I’m not the only one left. I’m sure...”

(Her sentence ends with a voice shaking with determination and belief. She’s either trying to kid herself that there are others from Ash Valley in Battery City somehow or she’s trying to shift the focus from her crimes to the possibility of other survived Exterminators from Refinica.)

Doctor Barrett: “But even before that you were rapidly climbing the Refinica City Scarecrow Rankings, these points shown on records next to your Killologist count and other High-Ranking Crows...It doesn’t add up. Explain that for me.”

(Barrett’s trying to seek out any use of “Cheating” can join that long line of malpractices. She’d have to be very intelligent to pull that off, to possibly “hack” the Scarecrow Point System. BLI take that seriously, tampering with it can be punishable by death. But obviously, Trinity’s already there.)

Trinity *Disgusted* : “Our Administrator said I could earn my credit attending “other duties” for him... Heard you got droids for that kinda thing over here.”

(Doctor Barrett lets out a cruel chuckle and Beck looks away , almost pitying her. But neither bring the point system up again for the reminder of the recording. As for the Administrator, the man in charge of running the Refinica Ash Valley S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit he was reported dead not long before Trinity was found in the City and detained.)

Beck *clears throat, awkwardly* : “It says that the Administrator was found dead on the security footage, in his office. What was the his cause of death?”

(Trinity tilts her head back and gazes at the ceiling and sighs but gives an straight forward and surprisingly)

Trinity: “He was shoot. Three, four ...or maybe even five times. In the chest, would’ve caused a pretty nasty collapsed lung.”

Beck: “Did you kill him?”

(Trinity bows her head but you can hear soft laughter.)

Trinity *Quiet*: “He deserved it...he really did, honest...”

(There’s silence then. Trinity is still chuckling about her case but from the recording she sounds like she could be crying and when she finally raises her head again, her eyes are bloodshot and she’s biting her lip as if she’s trying to hold herself together. Hector scoffs and leans back his chair, all aloof. Beck flicks over to the next page in her file.)

Beck: “It mentions someone else as an “Illegal Kill” . Your Mentor, Rook...”

(Beck scans over something else on the page and gives Barrett an uncertain look before gesturing at an paragraph -presumably- and in response, The Doctor nods and Beck turns back to the Prisoner.)

Beck: “...And the previous “Top Exterminator” of Ash Valley.”

(Trinity specks, her voice is croaky and deep. She glares at the men, now suddenly on the defensive.)

Trinity: “That’s not- That wasn’t...”

(She lets out an angered breath and abandons the sentence, before trying again. Her voice is grim , speaking slowly.)

Trinity: “It was an act of mercy.”

(Beck continues then to search for something else to question her on but Barrett cuts through before he can)

Doctor Barrett *urgent*:“You managed to get from the Combat Zone Forests in Wyoming to California. We know that the conditions at the Ash Valley were dire-“

Trinity *outraged* : “You received our distress message?!”

(Trinity then halts rocking the chair and it falls forward as she stares at the two men with an look of shock. But Barrett raises his voice, startling the Exterminator beside him from the file in front of him.)

Doctor Barrett: “That isn’t what I’m here to ask you about! May I remind you I’m the one asking the questions here?!”

(Trinity grinds her teeth like an Animal who lost an hunt. Seeing that he’s once again regained control of the interrogation and not letting his partner speak, Barrett smiles.)

Doctor Barrett: “When you were found- were you found alone?”

(Trinity only smiles at this.)

Trinity *mocking*: “Aren’t you meant to know yourselves? I mean, I was captured by you guys.”

Beck: “The file states you were found alone, but uncertain if you travelled alone.”

(Trinity smirks. This is something shown in previous interactions with her, how when question about other possible survivors, she’s vague and responds in riddles. Possibly could be trying to throw the Extermination Unit in charge of finding any Refinica S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W survivors false leads. No one has yet been able to figure out what she’s hiding.)

Trinity: “I’m sure any one who managed to get away from you guys is smart enough to run away. Am I not enough? What suggests I’m the last one standing...?”

Doctor Barrett: “We’re done here Miss Cecil-“

(Barrett stands up, pulling Beck up by his arm too.)

Trinity: “But you and your shit-eating college have hardly made any progress!”

Doctor Barrett: “We’ll return shortly to discuss your sentence and punishment.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

INTERROGATION CONCLUDES 11:42 AM, 3/11/2012

Chapter Text

“She’s a lost cause,” 

“She’s our only choice, you said so yourself!” 

We were standing in the office next door to Trinity’s Interrogation room, trying to keep our voices down. Hector deemed Trinity too difficult to control. I deemed Trinity as someone who could looks like she could do with a second chance to screw over Better Living.  

It’s funny, writing about her now because she seems like a Killjoy. Someone doesn’t do all that because they love their life, they want change.  

According to Hector, there was an attack on the Ash Valley S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Units and nearly everyone died. He said Better Living think the some of the survivors tried to start living in the forest that their version of Killjoys usually camped, and they’ll all die eventually. But obviously one found a way to get to Battery City, to complain to the boss.  

I don’t understand why it means so much that BLI gotta kill her. Executing a Top Exterminator seems like a waste. Even with that list of crimes, everyone knew that problematic Scarecrows were brought to “The Tube”. No one knows what goes on in there, I try not to think about it. 

But after the interrogation and how vague Trinity was about her past, Hector said she was “Unpredictable” and a Wildcard. May not help us. I think she will, it’s her chance to live. Hide from Better Living and start over if she wants. Wildcards are the one who swing the firefights around when the skies go overcast.  

That’s the thing that gets me; her file tells us everything about Trinity’s career at BLI but not why .  

I paced around the room as Hector was pinching the bridge of his nose like the whole session was causing him pain. For a while now it had been bugging at me how much *privileges* does this City-Face have? To be my supervisor? To handle Trinity’s case?  

“How didja even get the chance to talk to that La-La Chick?”  

“La -La? I don’t speak sand worm Beck.” Hector replied in a sharp tone as he leaned forward in his desk chair. “Speck English...in a civilised manner.” 

I huffed. The Joy-dialect was like a second language to me now. Like English or Spanish. It’s common tongue and a secret language, Mom and Dad will never understand. 

“La-La- Y’know Nuts, Screwy, Loony...Whatever fancy word you clay-faces use.” 

“You referring to her being non compos mentis? More commonly known as being insane?” 

I nodded and quickly swiped up her file, scanning over any hints or clue that maybe might crack the crossword of a puzzle this crow was. Hector finally stood up from his sulk. 

“I have my theories...” He began, running a hand though his hair. “Of course, she’s off Sterax and all the other colourful pills that’s distributed to Crows. She could be in withdrawal as those capsule-sized bursts of energy are designed to be addictive.” He let out a harsh chuckle. “Keeps ‘em coming back, if even those fuckers wanted out of the rat-race.” 

“My second theory was that well...she has seen a lot at Ash Valley. The Gas-Attack should’ve shaken her up bad, leaving its ugly mark. All that death, despair and destruction must’ve taken a toll on her.” Hector clarified with the same vile, cocky grin.  

“You just assume all this? Ever actually tested her? Because to me it seems like- “ 

“ "We’re looking for a lame excuse to exercise our firing squad and spice up our daytime television!” ” He interjected, imitating a talking with his hands.  
“I’m glad about your intuition Beck, but no. We had a meeting. The Wicked Witch of the West, the board of Better Living Industries, finical backers and spokespersons of different sectors -such as myself- held a meeting... about the fate of Trinity.” 

“The Director did want her killed, because Trinity couldn’t be harnessed via pills or brainwashing. Trinity knows too much- She’d resist too much, fight back, escape, you name it! She’s smart- And she’ll spread the word of her story and that posed a risk to other Scarecrows that she’d tell them how Once-Upon-an-Time BLI abandon her and countless others and left them for dead. We’d have an Uprising, against our best-trained soldiers.” 

 “So, The Director decided that she was too dangerous to live.  Others said that Trinity was an opportunity that could be crafted into any new image BLI saw fit, another duty-bound Exterminator. But The Director wanted Trinity’s crimes dealt with for her to be executed. She wanted it to be a spectacle to the rest of BL/ind for her treason, to make an example out of her. A warning for any Exterminator who dared act out that there would be no second chances with reprogramming or any kind of control.  But I convinced her not to.” 

I only stared at him. Hector spoke with such determination, seriousness, whatever word you want to use, that I believed him. 

“I leaned into the argument of her potential. Said that I had a team that could all-sorts to her brain to force her to obey our orders and keep working as a Scarecrow. If the Director let me keep her alive, run some tests, experiment a little...She’d have a brand-new Scarecrow. And against all odds, The Director agreed, if Trinity was admitted to Rosewood Sanatorium, until fit for duty.” 

“That’s sick...” I hissed at him. He was completely planning on torturing Trinity for his benefit just to create a Frankenstein who could load a gun. “You wanted to put her in The Cage...?” 

“The Cage” was what ‘Joy dubbed Rosewood. To the City, it’s a place for people who are too “unstable” for the clean and perfect image of Battery City, but don’t let its pretty name fool you. To the Zones, it’s where they send the Prisoners who resist no matter what and end up going mad. No one comes out the same. Their either turn smiley or their head’s full of fog and they can’t even form a sentence anymore. I hope by time you two reading this, no such place exists anymore, or there’s a higher chance of bustin’ out alive. 

Hector simply shook his head. 

“If by “The Cage” you mean Rosewood Sanatorium then yes. But I argued against it. Rosewood is the other side of the city, and I’d rather not travel for my work.” 

He said with a small grin on his face. His words were hushed like he thought the Prisoner was listening in. But he spoke with dramatic flair as if the minor case of travel would ruin his entire morning.  

“We’re not gonna hurt her Beck. She’s gonna be our Draculoid. And in exchange, she’ll get the chance to escape Death-“ he paused to laugh loudly “That’s if she’s as good with a ray gun as the records says she is.” 

“And now, all you have to do is go back in there and full Ms Penny in.” He announced, “Oh and take this-” Hector took out a shining red apple from the pocket of his doctor’s jacket. "We don’t want our draculiod to go hungry”  

He said it all as if the task was simple, charm her and she’ll join our team of “rebels”. Of course, he’d left that in my hands. Well maybe it was for the best. Hector would only accidently piss her off again.  

“Imagine Beck, our way out of here- and all it costs is a “Penny”!” 

“Shut up...” 

“But you get it, right? Killjoys are meant to a good sense of humor!” 

I stanched the apple from his hands. “I’ll go talk to her, alright?” 

I didn’t argue when I moved from the box-sized office back to the musky interrogation room. Once I unlocked the door, Trinity had her eyes closed and her head lounged back. I guess the fatigue finally caught up with her.  

I snapped my fingers. Once, twice, no reaction to either. She was still, like whenever I watched Max and Avery play children’s game, ones that me or Valkyrie had taught them, they stood as tall as the cactuses, trying not to move an inch.  

So, I leaned forward and gently pressed my fingers just beneath her ear, on the neck.  

You could find a pulse there. Bit trickier than checking the veins on your wrist but useful if your ever in a firefight and you need to check if a friend...y’know... 

As for Trinity, her pulse was strong. I barely knew the girl but the steady rhythm of the blood pumping though her flesh was a relief. She’s not dead, yet. But the moment I touched her, she flinched, opening one eye to stare back me on full alert. She kicked the table, pushing her chair away. 

“Get- get the hell away from me!” 

Her voice screeched at me, and I sat back in my own chair. Her chest was heaving like she was trying to calm herself down.  

“I know what you’re trying to do Trinity.”  I spoke gently, trying to not appear fazed by how startled she seemed to be woken.  

“So, I guess you Battery Crows aren’t that stupid, if you know when someone's faking death.” Trinity’s voice shook as she tried to calm herself down. 

“Here we all it “Vampire Money”. Killjoys play dead so they can fool Exterminators, or maybe the Exterminator asks them to so they can have an easy shift.” 

Trinity sat up properly in her chair again, tilting her head to each side and I heard the crack of her bones having not been used in a while.  

“Just tell me my sentence,” She muttered. “I’ve waited long enough; you’ve had your fun. But please just- tell me how they do it. Please.” Her head was bowed again. Trinity probably thought her fight was up.  

I cleared my throat. So far, so good. She hasn’t lashed out or anything yet. Wait no, she’s not some ticking-time bomb- Hector only came up with that theory so The Director would let Trinity stay alive.  

“We’re not going to execute you, Trinity.” 

She looked up instantly at that, her eyes wide with bewilderment. Her mouth was open, yet she didn’t say anything. 

“Doctor Hector made a deal with The Director- There's a way you can help us.” 

“Why would I want to help you?” She sneered, sinking back into her chair like the questioned offended her. “Battery City left me out for dead, me and loads more!” 

“It’s not Battery City you’re helping.” 

I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Better Living screwed us both over. This is a chance to get back at them.” 

Trinity didn’t seem to believe me still. She narrowed her eyes.  

“What did BL/ind do to you then?” 

Taking a deep breath, I spoke. “Long ago I deserted them while out on a job in Desert. I started a new life, had a partner, kids... A few days ago, while looking for food we were ambushed. They took my daughter and said if I didn’t resume my previous position, they’d kill her.” 

I looked down. That was the first time I said it all out loud, and truthfully I didn't know how many days had passed since the day we were ambushed. I didn't sleep at night back in my standard and unbearably neat apartment, it was all too horribly familiar. But there I sat, waiting for her to call it bullshit. To laugh. But she didn’t.  

“And that’s what they do to us. Use us as puppets and if we don’t obey, it’s not our strings they cut, it’s the ones we hold closest to us.” 

I nodded in agreement. 

“Doctor Hector has a plan. He said there’s a way we can escape but, in the meantime, we need a someone to pose as a Draculiod for my missions.” 

“And he wants me to do it...?” She questioned, raising a brow in doubt. 

“Yes. It’s illegal of course, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take, for my family’s sake.” I looked up at her, “What about you?” 

She was quiet for a few seconds. I guess now she might’ve been thinking whether she could trust me. 

“I didn’t come here alone.” She began. “Another Crow from Ash Valley. We knew we’d be met with death in Battery City. I told him to run so I’d take the blame. Go down as the only survivor...” 

“You were trying to save him?” 

Trinity nodded but her expression was unreadable. There was silence between us until I could hear the clatter of Trinity fidgeting with the cuffs. 

“I can remove them if you want. Hector gave me the key.”  

I offered and in response Trinity reluctantly nodded. After removing her handcuffs, Trinity rubbed her wrists in pain, where the flesh was rubbed raw. On the back of her hands, I noticed a tattoo of sorts. A simple drawing of an eye on each hand, in dark ink. Scarecrows must follow in terms of their uniform and dress code. Stuff like the jacket displaying the Exterminator symbol is mandatory and must be always worn on duty. One of those rules is that tattoos must be hidden. But the moment Trinity noticed me staring she dropped her wrists to her side. 

 I placed the apple on the table in front of her.  

“You looked like you haven’t eaten in days.”  

She didn’t reply but took the apple any way, devouring it like a wolf. When she finished, she finally spoke. 

“I’ll join you. Not because I feel sorry for your little “sob story” about your family, but because I need to find the other survivor and I’m done letting Better Living divide my world. And on one condition-” 

“Whatever you need.” I said with a grin. Finally, help from someone more trustworthy than Hector. 

“They still have my belongings from Ash Valley- My satchel which contained my main weapon of choice: a hunting knife. If I’m to join this “Uprising” of yours, then I want it by my side, at all times. Can you bring it to me?” 

Of course this was something that baffled me at the time. We know Exterminators in the Desert have “The Individual” standard BL/ind ray guns (a bit more powerful than any blaster you’ll get outta the vending machine or sold from some alien, but obviously lacking in colour and variety) but a Scarecrow especially one at Trinity’s level using an blade seemed stupid. That’s practically bringing a knife to a firefight! 

It wasn’t until much later she’d tell us it was because of the environment at Ash Valley Combat Zones; Exterminators used both ray guns and blades.  

“All of them trees and bushes, their places to hide. You can sneak up on the enemy, real slow and –BAM!” She mined stabbing someone, “Right in the neck! And it barely makes a sound!” 

But I agreed, willing to do whatever it takes for Trinity to trust me on Hector’s scheme. 

But then she had the faintest echo of a smile on her face. One of hope at a second chance. 

“Freedom, and all it takes is demotion, huh?”  

“I guess so.” 

And just like that we had he volatile and wild Prisoner fighting on our side, Trinity.  

Chapter Text

It’s the first-time in ages Valkyrie came back empty-handed, and Cherri could immediately tell something was up.   

The curtain crashed, That’s what.  

People coming round to the Doctor’s Office.   

An 4152314, with two confirmed deaths.  

I’m staying outside on a hill where you can see the Mailbox. Dad would tell me that every night the Witch visits it to collect souls.  It’s colourful and stands out against the boring sand and the road. It was a regular mailbox from when there was probably a regular folksy neighbourhood here but a coupla years ago, when a buncha sandpups painted it, including Avery.   

I remember that day, she was like six or sumthin’ and Dad and Valkyrie brought us there. I told’em I was too old for arts and crafts, and they laughed. In the end, Me and Avery were both sitting on our knees, elbow deep in glitter and neon paint as we covered that old rusty can with rainbows. She was always into artsy stuff, always painting, always giving people little tickets like bracelets. I still have one, with four beads. She told me it was a “Bad Luck Bracelet”, each bead represented our family. Its string is strong, and the beads don’t break.  

That was six years ago.... She’s twelve now. Was twelve. Still floral-eyed and sunny as ever. Dad had a chilly past and Valkyrie had her troubles with all kinda Pigs, and I was always a handful. BLI sucked the fun outta everything, ruining good times. The real killjoys in the end. And now they’ve taken sumthin’ that I need.   

I turn around to look back at the Doctor’s Office. Yep, there’s Vendetta’s white motor.   

Vendetta is one of Valkyrie’s trustiest allies. She ain’t much a dust cloud killjoy, but as far as I’ve known Valkyrie, she’s known Vendetta, Valkyrie vists her a lot because Vendetta’s gonna have a baby soon. They say that Desert Queen is a real future legend. I can see her in there now with Doctor D and Cherri Cola, Valkyrie’s brother.  

They’re trying to convince her it’s all gonna be okay. Which (for once) is total bullshit.  

The air around me is screaming. It makes me wanna punch something.  

It sounds like the constant shattering of glass.  It’s like static electricity, the way it snaps, crackles and pops. Yesterday feels like forever ago, multiples and multiples but I can’t- I just can’t- believe what I saw for a second.  

“It’s never easy, is it? Losing someone.”   

Cherri’s mild voice wakes me outta the thought spiral. I can’t find the words to agree or disagree, my minds all cloudy. I don’t look at him because family or not, I don’t need this Radiohead’s sympathy. I just stare ahead at the Mailbox and the setting sun, fidgeting with the beads of my bracelet. But it don’t matter cuz he continues anyway.  

“I know where you’ve been kid, it isn’t easy. But I promise, they're in the arms of the Witch now. And she brings all her fallen brothers and sisters to a truly better place...”  

He goes on with his Witch-talk, but it just fades into the background with all the static for me. I was never really that into the talks of Deities and The Phoenix Witch. It was one part of the Desert I never got used to, after meeting Valkyrie and all. Then suddenly Dad who used to say he didn’t in fairytales, now believes in a mysterious figure that’s meant to lead you to the Afterlife, if there really is one. Avery thinks it’s all real, but she was just a kid. I never got used to it, and especially not now. It was always more of a Dust-Trail to me.  

Instead, while Cherri rambles on, thinking he’s comforting “the poor kid” while the adults talk inside. I trace each bead over and over again and close my eyes, trying to recall the day Avery gave me it.  

It was one of our few shower curtain days with the clouds acting like a blanket from the Sun. She ran up to me and she had a huge grin on her face. It was annoying but it helped her get ‘round all the grownups. She opened her hands and showed me a bracelet. One with only four beads that rattled around.  

One was big and shining, one slim and had carefully painted on stripes. They reminded me of a snake the way they twisted around the bead. One was plastic, resembling a rabbit with a cartoonish face, the last was a gemstone of some sort, catching on the sunlight at every angle on the sunniest days.  

“Mama let me take the beads from her jewellery. I think it’s my best yet.”  

At the time I still wasn’t used to the whole “half-sister” deal. Maybe still a little jealous of how happy she was at everything, despite the literal hell we lived in. I knew about the whole deal with “The Birds and the Bees” by then and couldn’t get over how Dad just got with this lady and the result was the over-the-top, eager kid in front of me.  

I just smiled awkwardly and nodded, hoping she’d leave me alone, but it only encouraged her.  

“It’s a Bad-Luck Beads Bracelet! Cherri told me all about them and I wanted to make one.”  

“It’s very nice.”  

One compliment made her eyes go big with wonder and joy. It made me crack a smile, just a little.  

“He told me you make it for the important people in your life. Each bead is a person, and the string holds them together. I chose purple, do you like it?”  

I hesitated. Avery was like a Magpie the way she loved necklaces and bracelets. She never let other people share.  

“For me...?”  

“Yeah! Purple’s your favourite, right?”  

I didn’t have a favourite colour. I didn’t waste my time thinking ‘bout that kinda thing. But right then and there I nodded and without a second to lose, she slipped the bracelet onto my wrist, twisting it ‘round so she could take a final glimpse at each bead.  

 “It's meant to be us and Mom and Dad. Don’t let it break, ‘kay?”  

At the time I didn’t tell why you don’t let Bad-Luck braclets break. If one breaks it’s meant to mean that the people represented by it have been ghosted. But as Cherri was talking, I traced each bead, again and again.  

One was shiny, big and round  

Two was like a snake, slim and wide  

Three had a cartoonish face, plastic and smooth  

Four was a gemstone, rocky and cool.  

Nuthin’ broke.  

Nuthin’ broke!  

“I’m gonna talk to Valkyrie...” I announced suddenly as I stood up. I seemed to walk automatically back to Doctor Death-Defying's.  

“Good- Good idea kid...” Cherri said, a little surpised by my exit but he didn’t attempt to follow me.  

 Inside the Dr’s Office I heard the chatter of Vendetta and Doctor Death far off in the studio where he usually broadcasts.  

Valkyrie was sitting at a table, where he’d often eat. It was covered in scraps of old magazines, maps, concert posters and a notebook which was where Cherri wrote down his poems. The curtains were drawn so the room was enguffled in a rainforest green. Valkyrie had her head in her arms and wasn’t making a sound. It nearly frightens me, her lack of reaction to even me opening the door. I didn’t know what to say to her, so I tapped her arm.  

“What do you want...?” Valkyrie’s voice was thick with grief. I stepped back but held out my wrist.  

“This bracelet Avery made. It hasn’t broken.”  

She only rolled her bloodshot eyes. “Well thank the witch you got something to remember your sister with!”  

The hostility mixed with pain in her words and her tone shocked me. Any kind of hospitality she showed to me as a parent was sudden gone. But I balled up my fists and angirly took off the bracelet, shoving it on the table in front of her.  

“She said this was a Bad-Luck Bracelet! Those only break if your team has been killed!”  

“And?”  

“Why hasn’t this one broke?!” I demanded, my voice shaking with fear at my doubts, hope at the smallest possibility. Valkyrie was silent, staring at the piece of jewellery dumb founded.  

“They’re not dead.” I explained quietly amazed. I was expecting Valkyrie to have a similar reaction, but she kept on staring at me, so I repeat myself.  

“They’re not dead.”  

Valkyrie took a deep breath, sitting up properly in her chair.  

“Max... What happened last night?”  

Her voice was serious and solemn. I blinked, confused by what she meant.  

“What...?”  

“What happened last night?”  

I gulped nervously. “We were ambushed by Korse and his Draculiods. We lost Avery and Dad- But they could still be alive!”  

Valkyrie sighed, rubbing between her eyes in frustration.  
“No, Max. They were killed. No-one gets spared by an Exterminator, especially not one as strong as Korse-” 

“But my bracelet!” I exclaimed “If they’re dead, then it would break!”  

“It’s just a story, Max!” She snapped, her sudden anger scaring me. “It’s meant to comfort you! Now grow up and suck up the reality that you live in, Your Father and sister are dead!”  

I stepped away from Valkyrie, distraught. But I wouldn’t let this go, not that easily. I balled up my fists, glaring at her and ready for round two.  

“Let me fight Korse. I can avenge them, I’m strong enough!”  

She only scoffed, a humourless, harsh laugh at my face.  

“Never...” She grunted, burying her head back in her hands and hiding away from the world. “I’m not losing someone else to him. You’ll die.”  

So, I grabbed Avery’s bracelet and left. There was no point trying to argue with her when she was like this. But deep down I knew there was hope, a chance. Avery’s smart. Dad’s good with a blaster. Maybe, just maybe their alive...  

And it’s up to me to find them now.  

Chapter Text

41813

Its a freeze frame chart topper
The dracs come in multi packs

we dont know the names of who we've lost anymore

We think we can destroy them with our party poppers
But they blow our brains out mindlessly

we dont know the names of who weve lost anymore

Our neighborhood of full houses
The claps cresendo to a finale

we dont know the names of who weve lost anymore

Cries and sobs slice through our vows
Mom and Dad still carry out their wild kamikaze

we dont know the names of who weve lost anymore

Bullet proof faces covered in sparkler traces
Nobodies gain their 13th reason in the midst of this hurricane

After all is said and done
We dont know the names of who we lost anymore
Now and forevermore

Chapter Text

I didn’t have to wait long for my request on my hunting knife. The next morning the Beck brings me my breakfast. He doesn’t say a word, probably scared he’ll get ratted out for showing sympathy for an Prisoner. I took the tray of fowl-smelling porridge, stone-cold  breakfast roll and bottle of water and then he left. Not even a hint of further instructions for his dumb scheme.

I actually ate this time. Finn would be proud. We both have small appetites but still wasted time trying to coax each other into taking a bite. Anyway, I need my strength if I’m gonna be back on the field again, albeit illegally.

The roll is usually wrapped in a plastic foil and then paper. The foil tears easily and can’t hold the strength of a butterfly which only shows how strict Battery City really don’t want you kicking the bucket early. But inside wasn’t the roll, only my Tanto Point blade, wedged between two bread rolls.

As good as I remember too.

Ever since my conversation with Beck and Hector the security camera in my cell has lost it’s idle red light. I can only take this as a sign that one of them deactivated it.
Good. Means I finally got some privacy in this shithole.

Then later that day Beck returned to my cell. Again, he said nothing just lead me out to what we called  the “Tiring-Room” back in Ash-Valley. The room where Crows prepare for duty, uniform, armour, gadgets and  weapons. Even though every one has own stall, Finn always said they reminded him of school gym locker rooms. Beck said I could get changed into the Battery City Draculoid uniform in one of the stalls.

The uniform was fitted neatly. Back in Ash-Valley, we had no Dracs so this uniform was new to me. Nylon and blench white suit with black combats. Flashy yet unnerving to the eye of prey, I would imagine.  

And that’s not even starting on the mask.

“Creeped me out until I’m dead...” Beck muttered darkly as he handed me it. If he really was a rebel I suppose he’s had one too many encounters with the wannabe Draculas.

The masks have a unnatural, slimy  texture of plastic that’s found on many BLI brand products. The feel of it makes all the hairs on my arm stand on end. Jet black matted hair with hollow, hollow holes for eyes. Red outlined the mouth like cheap blood the melted down the chin. That’s all it was really, a cheap Halloween mask , but taken seriously as hell by the Desert People.

I pulled the hideous thing over my head and tried with all the effort I had left to not  shiver at how the rubber stuck to my face before taking it off again,  taking in a deep breath of fresh air.

Surprisingly, you can see rather well out of the thing. When I took in my surroundings with my new vision, Beck’s hand hovered over his gun.

“Is it that convincing?”

He shook his head, a little dazed as he realized what he nearly just did.

“They didn’t have Draculoids when I was working here previously...” He remarked, “Working with one now is all kinds of loony tunes to me.”

Loony tunes did he say? Guess these Desert Rebels have different slang to the Ash Valley ones. Like codenames for anything and everything that matters to them.

He threw on a maroon blazer, the Exterminator symbol stood out brightly on his arm like a beacon, a beacon of death to some. This was a new jacket I think. One untouched yet by the violence of work . But as Beck buttoned it up his hands were shaking rapidly, muttering some nonsense to himself.

Maybe he needs a distraction to clear his head.

“Your uniforms are different here in Battery City. “

“Hm? “ He glanced up from his jacket and I could see the beads of sweat on his forehead, how quickly he was breathing.

“In Battery City, your jackets with your uniforms. Their light and come in either bright or dark shades of colours so they don’t stand out, and they suit your climate. Where I’m from Exterminator uniforms have fur outlined on them for colder days and hoods for rain. Their usually in “forest colours “ like green or brown so we blend in. “

“Why are you telling me this Trinity? “

I shrugged, “Sometimes rambling eases my nerves before a mission. And sometimes listening can help some one else too. I only want to help. I understand how hard this must be for you. What’s at stake-“

“Thanks. “ He cut me off bluntly, trying to focus on fixing his BL/ind issued ray gun for the job.

“What exactly is  your mission?” I inquired as I took the Draculoid issued ray gun (identical to he Scarecrow ones. A bit of a disappointment I’ll admit)  and slot it in the holster on my hip, trying to steady my hands from not dropping the blasted thing or for my legs to suddenly go weak and have me fall. If I'm going cold turkey on meds then I really shouldn't be doing this, but my desire to get out of Battery City outweigh that concern. 

Beck didn’t hear my question  as his fingers clumsily slipped over the buttons and he kept mumbling over to himself.

“Beck?”

He jumped and stared at me , wide-eyed.“-What?”

“I asked what the mission was.”

“Right, Right, Its...” He closed his eyes, taking in troubled breaths. “We gotta go--gotta go on Patrol--I was told... in the, the Lobby...”

“That’s where you find the delinquents, right?”

He nodded as he starched the back of his neck. Any idiot could tell he was a nervous wreck of returning to this line of work.

“Their just kids...” He quaked, “Most of them are just trying to get something for someone-Food, Water, Plus... They just want to break the system somehow-“

“-And you don’t want to cut their lives short. But did you consider that there are times when a Crow has a unsuccessful patrol?”

“She’d know if I’m slacking. I’d get punished for it,”

“She?”

“The Director. Head of Better Living Industries in Battery City. In charge of...everything,”

“Right,” I swallowed the doubt I had that any idea I had could help Beck, but they were worth the shot.

“Let me take care of the actual killing then. Just- Help me in combat.”

Beck nodded and mumbled a thanks. It was the most decent thing I could offer the guy since he’s helping me get out. And if I get out then I’ll get to find Finn, since I’m not truly escaping my past at Better Living , not without him. And I’m not embracing the Desert’s freedom, not without him to get to experience it too.

I was about hide my knife inside the Draculoid jacket when one of the other cubicles opened and out stepped Hector , wearing the same ivory  uniform, with his arms out majestically like a ringleader introducing his show. 

“Ta-da!”

Beck furrowed his brows and only dumbly stared at his co-worker in confusion.

“C’mon, it takes three to round up some troublemakers!” He exclaimed in a far-too-excicted voice. 

I sighed, “I thought you were a Doctor...?”

“I am a Doctor Penny.” He nodded with a huge fucking grin on his face, adjusting his blazer collar with flair. “But a Crow like Beck requires two Draculiods and lucky for him, I’ve called in sick.”

And again with the “Penny” thing too...

“But your not even trained in combat! And quit calling me Penny, it’s not even my name! You’re only meant to refer to a Crow by-”

“-Their Callsign , but I think Penny sounds a lot nicer then Trinity. “  He responded with a sly, toothy grin that reminded me all too much of a wolf. He dug his claws into my shoulder and I shuddered, pulling away. He continued speaking as if nothing happened.

 “And anyways,  I know the theory of fighting from years of working with Scarecrows.”

“That’s not the same-!”

“It’ll work.” Beck finally spoke, raising his voice enough to stop me and Hector from bickering further or starting a gun fight in the Tiring Room. I don’t for one second trust Hector with a loaded weapon as I adjusted my own.

And that’s when I remembered that in Battery City, Dracs work under Exterminators.
Holy shit Beck’s technically in charge now.

“The task is simple enough. Lobby patrol, keep the peace among any Juvie-Halls and use force is nessicary”  He explained, trying to remain calm to avoid any mocking comments from Hector. “If we make even the smallest bit progress...Capturing, sabotaging or-“ He swallowed “Kill any rebels, it’ll help my- situation.”
Hector let out a clear laugh and put a gloved hand on Beck’s shoulder.  

“Anything to get back the Director’s good books huh? Glad to help.”

He turned to me and held put his hand. 

"Thought you could do with some cheering up Penny."

I look at his palm and there's the black and white pill that I've been craving for the past few days.  Without thinking I grab it and gulp it down. The energy runs though my viens, my blood, my organs. Just like it used to back in Ash-Valley before a mission.

Hector continued chuckling to himself like a maniac as he pulled down the Draculoid mask. Beck shoved the Doctor-turned-Drac away from him then, a bit too freaked out. It annoys me how Hector acts like this business is plain and easy. He’s never hurt anyone , let alone killed. Is that how hypnotised he is from BL/ind’s propaganda? How used he is to the idea of killing those who get in the way of BL/ind. What’s his reason to join the fight?

And as I pulled my own cheap rubber vampire mask on I realised that  both Beck and I are relying on Hector to survive, to get out of this hell.

Can either of us really trust him?

Chapter Text

This City is so different from what I’m used to, I don’t know where to begin.

Like a whole new ball game of dangerous from Refinica. The slums there wasn’t that bad once you knew to keep your head down, people won’t bother you. Here there’s poor voices ever where I turn.  Poor, weak and broken up voices that beg for spare parts, spare carbons, spare time. These must be the “Porno Droids” that we heard of back in Ash. Some grab on to my arm with gloved hands and chipped nails. All female ones too. I can feel the heat radiating off them, but I continue forward, shrugging the slender steel limbs away from me, refusing to give them a glance. The only thing that pleases me about them is that they must think I’m a guy. That ,or their programmed to pry onto anyone for business.

I'm still trying to figure this city out...

It’s a bitterly cold night and the rain is like draggers of acid nipping at my skin. I do know rain obviously; I just wasn’t expecting it here. All the papers say, “The Sun always Shines in Battery City!” and if I had known the statement didn’t induce nights then I would’ve held on to my jacket instead of tossing it in some homeless person’s trash fire. I had no choice. I would’ve been mugged, assaulted and left for dead hours ago if I was caught wandering around the poorest district of Battery City  with the Scarecrow patch on my arm. Suits me fine. I’m more than happy now to ditch that life.

Rocky doesn’t seem to mind. He strides alongside me with his pointy wolf-like ears up and his nose high in the air, sniffing out all these foreign smalls. I wonder what his canine mind makes of it all. Well, he’s a trained dog. He’s focused on trying to find any threats before any threats find us. I don’t even know where we are going. For the past three nights I’ve just been wandering through the Alleys like Penelope is waiting around the corner.

She’d know what to do. She take’s charge when things are uncertain, like now. Expect for those last few days in Ash when Rook started to get sick and she had just dealt with the Administrator, and she didn’t wanna talk. Just silence, deadly silence and I was afraid. Of her, or whatever she’d done. Why she couldn’t tell me when I already told her so much. I was the one who got us out of Ash-Valley in the end and Refinica and slowly she came back to me. She told me to drive to Battery City.

“You said you had family there Finn, Nice folks.”

“You remembered?”

“You spoke kindly about your cousins. I remember they sent you letters. I remember your smile.”

“You can remember anything that means something to others.”

“You mean only the people I care about. And there’s not a lot on that list. Not a lot on that list who are still...with us. And you.”

It was silence then, but I cherish that memory now like a small flame from a candle. I was driving, she had her head on my shoulder, her unruly auburn locks tickling my cheek. It was late night, and we’d been on the road for hours, glad to finally make that sweet escape...

Don’t think about it now Finn. Keep going. 

If she was with me now, she’d tell me what to do next, but now that Penny’s gone, I must tell myself over and over what to do next.

Find Rocky food and a place to rest.  Keep. Going.

Penelope would’ve really insisted on the last part. Always taking to others take a break. If she was here she’d insist, I take that time to unbind and relax. But she’s not here to tell me that or anything again. I’ll give myself time to breathe, and “free” my chest from the tape when I find shelter. Private shelter.

Thing is there’s nothing “free” to me about unbinding. I like the illusion of my flat chest. It makes me feel invisible, in fights or with people, despite it’s pain. But when I have to stare down at my own actual chest it’s like I’m dragged back down to reality, I feel shame like this is a body meant for someone else. So I bind, whenever I possibly can. I’m a fighter, I’m a man. I can push though the pain.

It’s like going through motions. Part of me thinks she’s dead, the other knows Penny’s smarter than that. Either way she’s in BL/ind curiosity and I must find her, no matter the cost once I can find a corner that looks secluded and safe enough. Even if that fails, I have my boxing skills. Rocky’s trained to fight back any predator.

But first- food.

For the past few days, I’ve been rooting though rubbish bins with little luck. Rocky can usually stiff out leftovers and he seems fine eating anything (Although he was on a strict diet back in Ash Valley for trained dogs). I must be careful what’s good to eat and what’s gonna poison me.  Today no such luck. Rocky draws attention to us- I think animals are uncommon in Battery City and it isn’t helping he’s stopping every five yards to lift his leg up against every lamppost. So instead, I try focus on shelter. Somewhere dry and warm would be nice but right now the rain is continuing to bucket down.

That’s when the shiny white vending machine catches my eye.
Tall, clean and full of hope. I don’t have carbons on me but I’m sure I can break the glass or something. Shake the machine until something falls out. It’s the Slum District after all, nothing’s built to last. Rocky eagerly runs forward and bounces in front of the machine, his tongue hanging out of his mouth excitedly.  Half of the time I’m following him around anyway.

I browse through each item available, and my stomach slowly fills with dread and suddenly I’m not hungry anymore. Because there’s anything but food in there.
Standardised Ray Guns, Bottles of water, Batteries for the droids. Even these dumb stickers that say “Good Luck” on them. They gotta be some sick gag from Better Living... And not a single bit of food in sight. Rocky lies down and whines and I feel like honestly doing the same.  This place isn’t the dream utopia we saw in magazines; It’s a nightmare. I just stand in utter defeat until a hoarse but brittle voice pipes up not far behind me-

 “Those gift boxes only give out microbursts. You need plastics to get ‘em to work, that or a Vend-a-Hack.”

There’s a tall boy standing leaning against the wall like he owns the place with almond-shaped eyes and dark shaggy hair with a noticeable streak of neon orange and pink. He’s wearing worn-out streetwear but most noticeable is his jacket; full of patches and badges that my eyes don’t know where to look and with various paint stains.

Rocky goes into “Defence Mode” and stiffens up, staring at him. If the stranger tries to pull anything Rocky would immediately pounce.  Maybe dogs have a sixth sense of who to trust.

However, as I said earlier, the best thing to do is to not draw attention to yourself. Avoid conflict. So, I step away from the Vending Machine and nod in acknowledgement to the guy’s comment and pretend I knew that, so he doesn’t mock me if he attempts to fight me.  I can’t stand back-talk in a fight.

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” I mumble and calmly make my way to the next alley as Rocky follows at my heal. I need to not be bothered by any shady characters if I want to survive and I gotta survive. Things to do.

“Wait-”

The guy catches up to me. Up close I realise he’s not as old as I thought. Hell, a few years younger than me, possibly late teens. Not that doesn’t make him anymore “trustworthy”, I just wouldn’t fight anyone for the hell of it.

“What’s with the dog? I thought BLI banned house pets ages ago.  It’s ain’t  some surveillance device, right?” He questions, glancing at Rocky, who barks in response. I swear, that pup can understand humans sometimes... He does work for BL/ind but I don’t tell the teen that obviously. Hopefully I can shake this kid off my trail, I can look for Penny faster, before it's-

No...don’t think about it. Just. Keep. Going.

I shake my head and try to walk faster. I’m not sure if I’m in the headspace to deal with people right now.

But he’s persistent. What if I need help to find Penny? This teen doesn’t seem like trouble yet, but I’ll stay on high-alert and deep down I’m still trying to forget all the loner jokes from school, I never was fussy about keeping friends. But Maybe I can use an ally here, one that’s not a trained mutt (albeit, a loyal one).

“Listen, I only pointed that outta  you ‘cuz you were looking so beamless! You new round ‘ere? I can help- I'm only ran the catwalk, got the nerves to ditch Mom and Dad a few weeks ago. I know what it’s like- What's yer name?”

“Finn.” I reply, giving him my Callsign from Better Living- Or, when I was at Better Living. Finn is the only name I want to be associated with me. It’s one of the few things in my life that I’m really proud of, and that was my choice. I can only try and piece together what he’s talking about because it’s like another language. Maybe he assumes I’m a newbie from the city.

The teenager lets out a “huh” and kicks a can let on the road. I stare in envy as he just doesn’t care that there’s a: Bean juice on his jeans (they have loads of stains on them. Maybe he doesn’t care) and b: wasted a perfectly good and mostly untouched can of beans for literal kicks.

He rapidly looks between me, the crumpled can and Rocky panting with hunger and makes the connection.

“Oh- You was hungry, right?”

“A little, yeah.” I try to sound friendly and “oh no man, it’s cool” about it and even give the teen a small smile but he swears a run a nervous hand through he oddly coloured hair. He seemed strangely loose, like really relaxed about being in the most dangerous part of Battery City.

“Sumofagun...Sorry I didn’t think. I got bites at the Tenfold, Batt food, not the Power Pup shit...although on seconds thoughts maybe we could do with some for once.”

He then stopped in his tracks and bent down to Rocky, who tilted his head in curiosity. As usual with strangers he didn’t engage or interact.

“What’s your pup’s name?”

I ruffled Rocky’s ears and gave the teen a proper grin this time because if there’s one thing I do love to talk about , it’s Rocky.

“Rocky. After Rocky Balboa, the boxer from the movies.”

“Right...Call me Ragtag. I can take you to my gang if you want? Well- it ain’t my gang but it’s Crash’s. He’s cool with Floral-Eyes, however, takes in all kinds of strays to the Lost’n’Found, or the Lobby, y’know? Like me.”

Shit. This kid actually has a gang. Who knew?

I want to say joining Ragtag is a risky idea, but to be honest something about Ragtag just stirs up some old memories of me when I was a teen, before I was... Finn. He seems like another uncertain outcast despite being in a place called the “Lost’n’Found”. Even his name “Ragtag”. He seems to know his way around this place however, if he wanted to harm me and Rocky, he would’ve done so earlier or just never gave me advice on the Vending Machine.

Fuck it. I may need all the help I can get to find Penny.

“Sure. I’ll join your group.”

Chapter Text

Turns out that the Tenfold that Ragtag was talking about was his groups hangout.

“I mean, it’s all jus’ this rundown club or sumthin’ like that. Crash says nuthin’ goes near it anymore so we hang outside it. Kinda like a den. It’s pretty bonus-track.”

He talks for a lot of the trip and sometimes I answer. I learn that he’s a street artist who leaves graffiti all over the Lobby. The art goes against BL/ind’s morals so that’s what Ragtag’s rebel “thing” was. It also explains all the paint stains on his clothes and why he wears a baggy hoodie under his jacket. Eventually he notices that I have no gun and asks how I’ve survived.

“With these,” I hold up my fists which still have yesterday’s hand wraps on them, and the knuckles are still smeared with maroon cuts. “I’m a boxer, so I punch people in fights, for sports.” I notice the Juvie-Hall’s perplexed expression and chuckle. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself with ease in a battle.”

Ragtag’s eyes widen in awe. “Slaughter-mantic dude...Crash is gonna love that we have an actual fighter on our team now!”

He sounds so excited that I can’t help but sheepishly smile from ear to ear. Long, long ago when I first decided to start fighting in rings, I used to daydream that people would one day chant my name like they did for Rocky (Rocky Balboa that is of course) and kids would see me as mighty and strong like a dragon, the world will see me as a legend. This was all very unusual for me since I get told that I’m modest.

When Ragtag finally takes us to the Tenfold I’m taken aback by how vacant it is. I mean, it is after all just an Alleyway with tents and makeshift shelters, like a little community for nomads. Its name comes from a now broken neon outlined sign that says “Tenfold” in cheesy 80s cursive. An old nightclub like Ragtag said that time forgot. But despite the pavement being dirty and Rocky stiffing around and exploring all the trash that litters the ground, there’s fairy lights up and colourful materials for tents that suggests that there are some people here who considered this dingy street their home and community. I know Ragtag does. He smiles wistfully looking out at it before he walks in and I follow, whistling at Rocky to grab his attention away from the rubbish.

“Looks cosy.” I comment, trying not to winkle my nose at the obvious smell of discarded leftovers and- actually I don’t want to think about whatever else is in there...

Ragtag doesn’t seem phased by the stench, in fact he takes a deep breath like he’s home... This really must be his home then. And mine too for the next few days if I decide it’s safe enough for me and Rocky (who has flies chasing around his head) to stay. If the people are welcoming enough.

“We’ve made it a whole lot more colourful and friendly inside. There ain’t many people here anyway. But like I was sayin’ earlier, we’re a gang. The Dead-Beats.”

“The Dead-Beats...?”

“Crash came up with it.”

“And who is this Crash?” I question, raising an eyebrow. “Your leader?”

Ragtag shrugs. “Sorta. So, you better not show tongue to him, got it?” He insisted sternly and although I had no clue what the hell “Showing Tongue” was and honestly it sounded like slang for something inappropriate, I tried my best to nod earnestly.

“Then I’ll introduce ya to the other strays, I gotta hand Ghoul some scrap metal anyway. Don’t worry, I think you’d fit right in!” Ragtag beamed as he gave a sudden joking slap to my arm.

I do find it hard with people from time to time. You gotta worry on what not to tell them because otherwise you get into trouble. Like how back at Ash Valley when Penny and I were both training for our Extermination license, Rook was our classes mentor as he was an Scarecrow of Second Class who’d fought in Helium Wars when they first began in the states and before that he served in the military back when that was still a thing.
His methods of teaching were...extreme to say the least. He’d quiz students at random on labelling the parts of a ray gun and if they failed to perform perfectly or even stutter, he’d yell at them, right up in their face. Always talking about the duties Exterminators had to fulfil, and he was never a stranger to physical punishments from time-to-time. If you were a guy and you messed up for whatever reason in his demonstrations, you’d get a back-handed slap across the face. I learned that the hard way. It’d leave an angry red mark across your cheek and for the rest of the day everyone knows what happened. Penny was fuming but after the attack on Ash Valley we were left with him. But that’s s whole another story...

But Ragtag seemed comfortable around others to say the least. He certainly hadn't caught onto my doubt yet.

“Fresh meat Rat-trap?”

I spun round to see where the bubbly sing song voice came from. There’s a petite girl with a Cheshire-cat grin and doll eyes fixated on me and I’m a little thankful it’s not Harley Quinn.

Ragtag rolled his eyes but smiled at her.

“Not my name Pixie, this is Finn and he’s our newest member, if Crash lets him in.”

Pixie scoffed and took off her hood, revealing her spiky bleach white hair. I’m noticing a theme with these rebels, they love weirdly dyed hair. But she starts circling me and I back away like she’s a lion considering if I’m her next meal. This makes her laugh, a lively crackle.

“Cool it- I only bite Vampires anyway.” She smiles, flashing her sharp looking teeth at me and Ragtag groans.

“Pixie Dust is our Miss Murder. She gets a storm outta having claps with Dracs. I heard she also eats their brains.”

“I don’t eat their brains! What do you take me for, a zombie?” Pixie snapped with her hands on her hips. “I’m with a girl who needs to –ya know- take her anger out every now and then. And anyway, those Exterminators shake in their polished boots, scared one day they might meet me!”
But then she turns to me, taking a swift glance at Rocky who sits patiently and watches her before she looks at me with a smirk.

“Good luck getting in with Crash. It’d be sweet to have some new faces round here.”

She then leans down ruffle Rocky’s ears, which he adores. And when me and Ragtag leave so he came introduce me to the rest of the gang, Rocky’s rolled over with his tongue happily hanging out and Pixie’s tickling his tummy and obsessing over him with a huge, friendly smile on her face. So, I decide to leave them. Even if I’m not great with words, Rocky can win these people over.

As we walk Rocky points out a girl with heavily beaded braids asleep as Roxy, Crash’s girlfriend. She glares at us like pests but doesn’t say anything.

“She’s real quiet but she got everyone back in a fight. Also, a hacker. Betcha wish it was her that found ya, she would’ve cheated the vending machine for ya.”

Then he also points out two girls who sit together in one of the tents, each nose deep in magazines and whispering to each other. One had fashionably styled cyan hair and the sequins on her dress shone like rhinestones against the fairy lights and she wore a denim jacket like Ragtag’s but with glitter and painted designs. Ragtag called her Cosmo, the Fairy Godmother (someone who repairs everyone else’s gear after fights) and an Angel-Kisser (A healer surprisingly. Before she joined the Dead Beats, she worked in a clinic, according to Ragtag).
The tall one who sits next to Cosmo, who Ragtag calls “Amber” I notice has pale, plastic-like skin and striking black lines painted on her face, running down her eyes. There’s something about her design that I can’t help but stare at. Her vivid orange hair is in a perfectly symmetrical ponytail and her black-and-white sleek leather jacket, dress and knee-high heels I realise from her stiff movements as she flips to each page that she’s a porno droid. But the way she’s leaning against Cosmo, reminds me painfully of Penny....Cosmo who smiles fondly at her, like Amber is more than a product to be used and passed on that this place accepts all kinds of people.
Ragtag shoves me harshly in the ribs and I advert my glaze.

“Yeah, she’s a Redlight Doll, but she one of us.” He whispered quickly. “And she ain’t a groupie either. Jus’ a lady who spreads scarlet rumours and says shit like the “the end is neigh” ... But we keep her around anyways.”

The part about the rumours catches my attention and I choose to question Ragtag further,

“Really? Scarlet Rumours- what's that?”

“Yeah, all the droids have gone loony nowadays. Think BLI are gonna try kill us all with somethin’. I say it’s all Trojan horses though.”

But this got me thinking. Of how when after distress call, distress call failed to alert Battery City’s when Ash Valley had fallen, and we had our gas-attack. Anyone that we found would say the same thing, that Better Living had abandoned us, left us for dead. That even the Killjoy attack had been planned secretly by them just to take us out.

I was dragged out of my thoughts as Ragtag stops as we pass by a guy slumped over against a wall, fixing some small device in his hands and mumbling under his breath in deep concertation. Ragtag clears his throat and gets no reaction then I notice the headphones in his greasy, shoulder length hair. Maybe he’s mumbling the lyrics? Or maybe thoughts on whatever he’s fiddling with. So eventually Ragtag pulls the headphones off him.

“Hey pally I was jamming to them!”

Ragtag chuckles a little and rummages in his pocket before handing the greasy-haired guy what looks like a handful of shiny pull tabs from cans.

“Got what ya asked. This is Finn by the way, the newbie.”

The greasy-haired guy just takes the pull tabs into his palm, staring at them like its new gold and starts counting, mumbling under his breath.
This just annoys Ragtag, and he huffs.

“Ghoul?!”

“What?! I told the whole gang not to bother me when I’m making stuff!”

“I said this is Finn, the newbie!”

“Oh right,” Ghoul glances up at me before standing up and offering a fist that I awkwardly fist-bump back. I’ve never fist bumped anyone before and Ghoul seems like the most chilled out guy I’ve ever met. There’s a friendly look in his eyes as he grins.

“Call me Fun Ghoul- I can’t hear too good so sorry for earlier.”

“It’s alright. My name Finn, just...Finn.” I laugh tensely and then Ghoul holds out a chunky looking device with wires poking all over, smiling like he’s just won the science fair. Hell, the device looks like it can win a science fair.

“I craft goodies round here outta scrap and spare parts. When I finally get the hell outta this city, I’ll sell these bad boys. Gonna be a real tuffdemo wizz.”

“That’s if ya don’t blow us all up first, nuke.” A gruff voice specks up from behind us and before I can react, a hand grips my shoulder and digs into my skin, turning me around. The person in front of me has olive skin and auburn hair that sticks up, somewhere between a Mohawk and a wannabe rock star.

This must be Crash. The Dead Beats leader.

Immediately as he shows up, Fun Ghoul grabs his gadget and walks off, and we hear the echo of his headphones as makes his escape. Ragtag stands beside me, trying to look confident and standing up straight as an attempt to match Crash’s height and I try to do the same. This guy reminds me all too much about the boys in my class who picked on smaller kids, stole lunch money and made changing rooms hell.
I don’t know how to start the conversation and Crash’s eye bore into mine.

“He’s says he’s a brawler.” The brittle, nervous voice of Crash specks up. “Got a pup too.”
Crash doesn’t let go of my shoulder. He’s sizing me up and I’m trying not to flitch or sweat or make any kind of reaction. But he scoffs like Ragtag’s joking.

“Let the string-bean speck for himself,” He shakes me a little ad I have to stand my ground so not to fall. One wrong move and I’ll loose this chance.

“What do they call you huh?”

“My name’s Finn” I managed to get without much of a stutter.

“Finn huh? Really?”

I nodded. What more did could this guy want?

He sneered, and from the corner of my eye I saw Ragtag distance himself but still watching us both carefully.

“You keep that name from Mommy and Daddy? Even after running away?”

“It’s the name I chose-“

“Fine, Finny. Keep your centre-city name. But tell me how old you are because right now your shaking like my kid brother Valentino and boy, that kid is a pain in the ass.”

I gulped, glaring back at Crash, closing my eyes so I didn’t have to stare at his fucking face so close I could feel his breath on my skin that smelled on cigarettes.

“I’m twenty-five-“

I heard a laugh and another punch on my arm.

“Hey look at me Finny...” His voice was gentle, friendly but in a false way. Like the voice Rook used as he approached a wounded rebel before shooting them in the head.

“C’mon Finny, Mommy and Daddy won’t find you here...Your safe...”

And I opened my eyes, planning to turn around and run the second I got, but the moment I did I saw Crash’s twisted smile and I couldn’t think of a plan before I felt the sudden collision of his fist with my nose.

“Look at me when I talk, Newbie!” He yelled as he chuckled cruelly.

I stunk to my knees, the throbbing below my eyes was intense...I could feel the pain echo though my head, right down to every inch of my skull. I was heaving on the ground and my chest felt so tight...I need to unbind...This isn’t helping. I cupped a hand over my noise and my stomach dropped when I felt dampness. With a blurred vision , tears threatening to spill, I drew my hand back.

Just as I thought. Blood. This guy actually just broke my nose.

“Gonna cry about it Finny? I thought brawlers were meant to be tough.” I vaguely heard the words as my ears were ringing. The lack of fighting over the last few months had put me out of practise...I should’ve been able to dodge that...

I stayed on the ground where I was, watching the blood from my nose drip down onto the pavement. Then I felt arms grab my sides, pulling me to my feet and knowing I was too dazed to defend myself for the next attack, I prepared to brace it.

“Fight back Finn. He’s testing you.” Ragtag’s hushed voice suddenly whispered in my ear, pushing me back towards Crash.

Fight back...He’s right. I’d never choose to pick a fight unless it was sports or self defence. From years of fighting I know there’s one thing –

Never hit a someone when they’re unprepared...
Because you’ll never know what they’ll fight back with.

So I swing my fist forward, aiming for Crashes’ Head when he catches it with his hand, twisting my wrist. I let out a yelp of pain and decide this is the type of fight to abandon the rules for, anything goes if it’s clear your opponent isn’t playing fair. So I ball up my left hand and knock that into his stomach, causing him to curse loudly . Crash steps back so I grab his shirt and raise my other fist when a voice speaks up, that of an actual teenager.

“Leave my brother alone !”

I drop Crash and he stumbles over to his younger brother with ragged , harsh breathing and Ragtag hands me a old cloth which I press against my broken nose, tilting my head up.

“I told ya to get the frickin’ food Valentino...”

Valentino looks to be around eight or nine years old wearing old t-shirt and sorts with tanned skin and sandy hair like his older brother, although Valentino’s is longer. Plus they both got the same accents. I think besides me, he’s the only one using his actual name here. B

“I did, like you said. There’s a actual dog here too and-“

The kid’s cut off as Crash slaps him at the back of the head.

“Then fuck off and go on Drac watch for us. Don’t interrupt one of my fights again you little shit!”

“But what about your stomach?” Val looked up at his brother in worry as Crash leaned against the wall, clutching his stomach. I knew the pain he was in- an unforgiving ache of trying not to vomit. “Can I ask someone else to go on patrol? I want to help you!”

Crash grumbled under his breath before turning back to Valentino with an aggrieved glare .

“I’m the leader of this gang , got it? Your just a dumb kid and I say you’re going on patrol, starting now! So scram ! “

Valentino stiffs and rubs his eyes before running off. Crash turns back to me and I ball up my fists again just in case he decides to try anything new. I’ve made my decision that I don’t like this guy, but the other people in this gang -Ragtag, Ghoul, and hell, even Pixie are better to be trusted to help me find Penny.

“Look at you Finny, all tense. Ya thinkin’ I’ll take another crack at tryina bust your head in?”
He crosses his arms and I don’t respond, just keep giving him eye contact. Crash laughs before giving Ragtag an “playful” jab in the ribs.

“Nice work Pally, he’s in.” He says to Ragtag before turning to me.

“Play nice and you can stick around. Otherwise your gonna wish that Better Living would take you back into their “sweet and loving” arms with Mom and Dad. Ragtag’s gonna find ya shum’where to sleep.” Then he turns on his heal and walks away , not before yelling “And keep that stinking mutt of yours under control!”

Ragtag turns to me, his eyebrows raised in concern as he gestures to my face,

“You okay back there?”

I stiff and pull the cloth away from my nose. As I thought it’s soaked in the dark red blood.

“I’ve stuttered worse...”

“The punch was wicked! No-one’s ever fought back before! Usually they jus’ whip out their ray gun and threaten to shoot him!”

“And that bastard is really your leader?”

Ragtag nods before gently grabbing my arm and guiding me away.

“I’ll get ya to Cosmo, she’ll patch ya up real fast and I’ll fetch food offa Val for you and Rocky. Then you can rest.”

I sighed, closing my eyes in relief. This whole sudden fight had made me completely forget about my appetite and the thought of sleep sounded like heaven. This morning seemed a long, long time ago. Tomorrow when I wake up, I can finally start looking though this crazy city properly. Surely someone in this gang should know where prisoners end up, or where all the action happened.

Too tired to think about reality, as Cosmo applied bandages to my nose, I thought about how I’d find Penelope- We’d find each other somehow and the two of us would only have the minimal injuries. We’d get of the city and find somewhere safe and quiet. Penny could read in peace and the only person I’d fight would be shadows, finally feeling comfortable in my own body.Getting to be a guy. Better Living would stink back into our worst nightmares and the world will be at glorious peace once again. Only our scars would remind us of what happened and over time we’d forgive each other for everything Better Living made us do.

Everyone lives happy and grows old and wins.

It all seemed so easy to believe.... 

Chapter Text

The TV’s on but the child’s only half paying attention. Cartoons ended ages ago but they weren’t ever fun. Too simple, too plain. Tale as old as time but told too many times. But there’s hardly anything to do in this new home besides watch the TV and draw and right now, no new drawing ideas are coming though. It’s like the clouds from the City block them. Seeing them is so unfamiliar, so weird compared to the clear, starry nights of the Desert. No stars left here to guide her home.  

Boring... Only the slow and ever-present ticking of the clock and the voice of the Newsman talking in his important sounding voice...something about rules and stuff... None of those existed in the Desert, they were laughed at like an joke.  

And everything here is so colourless too! All that could find to draw with was an half-used pen with a creepy looking smiley face on it with black ink.... Not even a rosey red or a deep sky blue. Frustrated, she lets out a sigh and then scribbles onto the page, over a half-hearted doodle of her family under a night sky that was covered in stars, planets and supernovas... 

And rips out the now ruined drawing, tossing on to the floor behind the sofa. Even that’s weird with it’s slippery, leather feel- 

Footsteps- Heels clicking on the polished floor.   

The Girl whips her hair around to see her Mother tutting sternly as she picks the page off the floor. 

“Now, this simply wouldn’t do dear. I’ve spoken to you already about rubbish but drawing ?” 

Mom’s acting weird herself for a while now, just like everything else in this city. Dressing nicer with long dresses and wavy hair but it’s nothing like her. She’s playing right into Better Living and all their dumb rules. 

So just to spite her more, The Child walks over and points out the people in the picture, behind the storm of swirly lines.  

“I drew us. Out in the Desert, back home.” 

The Mother merely gives her daughter an false “Sickly sweet” smile and sighed.  

“That’s nice sweetie, but why not draw us here, where we can be happier? After all , this is our home now.” 

The Girl scowls. This is a much a home as a pile of trash. To be taken away from the Desert , from her Papa and brother and placed here with her Mom acting like one of them . It’s like a bad dream, over and over. Something's not right with Mom or this tacky apartment and she's gonna find out what. Not to mention Papa disappearing and it's like her brother never existed! Mom never speaks of him anymore!

Noticing her daughter’s unease- yes, that’s the word for it . After all children are so fragile when it comes to changes. They don’t want to attempt to be good boys and girls of Battery City after being allowed to run wild and cause mischief in the Desert.  

They have to be shown how much nicer it is here. And for children, “Nice” starts with a little sugar. The best bribe for those little troublemakers. So the Mother takes a wrapped piece of candy containing a boiled sweet and holds it out to the child to quiet her. 

“Just one before tea, alright dear?” She says in her perfect honeyed tone. “Now come along Avery.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

After our  pitiful, half-successful  mission ,dragging the porno droid back, Both Beck and dear ol’ Penny were silent as the dark. For different reasons of course. I’ve learned so much about my fellow colleagues tonight!  And I can’t wait to get stuck in- 

Starting off- The Dead-beat defeated Dad. 

Beck’s worse then I thought in the field. He’s a mess once he actually manages to hit his targets. When we’re finally out of the prying eyes of security  personal I notice he’s a sickly pale and shaking. God, how dramatic on his part. It was a godamn robot he shot down. Those things are all over our city to provide a service and yet, he hardly makes eye contact with anyone when we return. When I stand next to him I can literally hear the whistle of a kettle reaching near it’s peak. Beck’s gonna crack soon, and when he does, it damn we won’t be pretty. 

Usually if I saw something like this in one of my patients then it’s be my duty to prescribe then more medication to “ease the nerves” or whatever fancy bullshit name BLI gives it. Since Beck decided to get himself hitched in the Desert and run wild and free, he doesn’t trust the medication. He knows not to fall for the miracle pill of emotions, in fact, he protests it. So he won’t accept any stabilisers that’ll help him stay more focused while on the job, or something that’ll perhaps knock the edge off his stupid sand-built  compassion and consciousness to what he’s doing.  If that coward gets us caught, he’d get a pretty sentence sitting back to back with Penelope for  a lethal injection. 

And me? Oh my friend, it gets worse. I’d lose my job, money and reputation. The only relief is that I’d most likely get brainwashed and forced onto a shiny new prescription and I won’t remember this fresco even happening. But I’ll lose the memory of all I’ve worked for, all that precious information that I’ve hoarded over my time here, the good , the bad, and the ugly. Someone’s gotta bring BLI down and I can’t do it without Beck’s muscle and Trinity’s wit and they need me, the only guy with enough influence and dirt on the other Crows to cover a pavement. 
Which brings me to my next point- Trinity, Penny whatever you wanna call that crazy sack of bones. She froze in the middle of that fight, our first fight as a team! 

I know the rumours about her in Ash-Valley. On what she saw. Lord of the fucking files recreated with grown adults with a license to kill on the daily, or course it twisted her mind! I gave her the pills in hope she’ll pull herself together, clearly I was wrong! We don’t have enough time to hold Penelope’s hand and unpack every gory detail of surviving Ash-Valley, only the details that matter to Battery City’s progress. The mistakes to learn from. 

 But the SOS message sent recorded only three survivors. Rook, who’d Trinity most likely killed, Trinity who obviously survives and Finn, the underdog, with no visual documentation on our files. He’s a mystery because we don’t know if he’s dead or alive but what I do know is Penelope was very sly on what she answered in her interrogations . I asked if she came alone, the bitch sneers and says that we ain’t doing our jobs properly. But my point is; she was vague! 

And even though I’ve let her out of that manky cell to help me, I still don’t trust her. So I gave her the sterelax pills, because I knew by the pathetic way she cowered in the cells and scratched at her flesh was a sign of the  withdrawal. Back at Wyoming she relied on those pills the same way others need booze or drugs just to face sunlight. 

So I gave her exactly what she wanted, something to help her cope and hopefully let her guard down but it isn’t what she wants. It won’t do.  I don’t know what her motive is for getting out, unlike Beck (and that son of a bitch won’t drop a hint on what Penny told him either). 

Then I found it.

So, I’m taking a stab in the dark here. She smart, I’ve gathered. Over days of studying Trinity’s previous interrogations, interviews and overall behaviour in our prisons . All the records availed from the Director on Trinity’s progress at Ash-Valley. She’s impressive but also volatile. An wildcard. 

At the fight this morning, she stops shooting at this one average-looking guy who’s trying to knock her out in a punch because he thinks he’s being attacked by an Draculoid and he doesn’t know any better. But Penny sees an ally – perhaps more , I’ll have time to speculate on the relationship between these two later. Maybe, just maybe he’s the “Finn” our investigation team is so uncertain of. Mr SOS Messenger himself. 

And I know, I know. It’s a long shot but pros- we catch the guy and he’s a nifty little piece of insurance to keep dear Penny in check. Or cons- Beck gets a head start on his next mission and can kill the sucker. 

I can’t go back out alone. Beck’s in no state to help me, and I need to keep Penny in the dark. 

But earlier,  my friend, I mentioned info. Precious information on other Exterminators working at Better Living who see me regularly. 

You see, I have status here. Those Crows look up to me , because I’m close to her. 

Inside my cosy office, I heard confession after confession. I did tell you, the mind of a killer fascinates me. But I always go for the foundations. What made them chose this career?

Nasty upbringings, tales of abuse, sick ideas of fun. People trying to prove themselves, people trying to climb the social ladder. People just trying to get by and accepting this as the new norm. 

But I’ve helped them and now they’re the faces that bring progress for Better Living, by getting rid of those who resist us. 

What I’m trying to say is, I have clients in high places. 

She’s late. My guest tonight is late by over an hour. There’s a calming atmosphere to the bars in the Meridian District, after all the Rental Resorts aim on the closest place to pulling your feet up and relaxing in Battery City.  I want this meeting done away from the prying eyes and ears of Better Living. But until then I’m treating myself to a well deserved drink. 

One of my clients is one of the most up and coming Killologists Korse. He’s known for having a very high success rate for his kills, and his calculating strategies mean he’s quickly climbing the ladder to earning the spot of the top exterminator since graduating top of his class  in 2002... But I’ve had him as a client for counselling since when I was employed in BLI in 2007. 

In terms of our meetings I have only a handful of information on that guy. Korse is a man of few words. He had a rough upbringing with a dead Mom and a Dad who had a quick temper. Graduated top of his class from BLI’s training program  in 2002. But hardly speaks of his past or what he gets up to in his free time. Korse spends his sessions discussing his work out in Desert . 

He has odd thoughts every now and then. “Doubts” about his choice of career. All natural, nothing another pill bottle can’t fix however. 

But recently he came in after a meeting with the Director, fuming about something.  

She wanted him to take on an apprentice. Some trainee with “potential” from the program. Korse isn’t the first to be landed with this decision. If any Exterminator is promising enough, then the Director wants them to mentor a trainee. Think of it as “Passing down the wisdom” to the youth. 

And Korse wasn’t pleased. He says he has a particular “style” of taking out Killjoys, finding valuable info on the Zones, capturing the particularly troublesome rebels out there, his progress here is impressive and yet,  no-one’s cracked what tactic they’re using and Korse wants to keep it that way. So of course, he’s pissed to be told to teach this irritating young woman his technique and to have her slowing down his missions, but you can’t really say no to the Director’s plans. 

So, enter trainee agent Flare.

And I’ve always thought of Extermination as acting. You wear a costume, play a role, live with a whole new name and who knows what these people are like behind closed doors! Better Living want one their best Actors to take on Understudy, so if he fails to perform to his standard, or becomes ill, or even loses a fight and dies, Flare will know his methods and take his spot under the stage. 

I think that angers him. It’s scary, the idea that you could be replaced in the one thing your good at. 

I’m getting off point here. The reason why I got in contact with Flare and not Korse to help us is; Korse was the one who recaptured Beck and his kid. If Beck so much as sees him, there’s gonna be a fight between the two and Beck’s not winning that. Korse is also getting close to the Director now that he’s gaining attention. Letting any of my scheme out to Korse is dangerous. He’d rat us out to the Director, or kill us on the spot, as this is treason, and treason equals rebellion. 
But Flare on the other hand- she’s young, impressionable and wants something desperately, just like Beck and Penelope. 

She is also one of my clients, and let me tell you, that girl is far more open then her mentor. Flare grew up in the lower-class Neon District with her twin brother Malcom, who now works in the security and safety sector of Better Living. The same Battery Tower his sister is training at. Cute. 

She’s told me numerous times how important her apprenticeship is, how it’s her one chance to  make a name for herself, get out of the slum district. 

That girl is too eager to please but she has big ambitions. 
 

Korse gets a decent pay check for each kill. He probably lives in some nice apartment in the Bright District, spending all his free time in Retinal Resorts and that fancy uniform didn’t come cheap. His career is taking off on the other hand...

So I asked Flare to meet me. I got cash stored away myself from the inheritance of my dearest and late parents , and I got enough to interest young Flare.    

“Dr Barrett sir?” A young, refined voice speaks up from across the table. I look up and smile warmly at Flare. She’s still in her training uniform and looks like she rushed from train to train for our rendezvous.

“Sorry I was late -the trains were delayed.”

Those trains are always late, but it’s the only transport she can afford.  

“Miss Flare!” I exclaimed with  enthusiasm like I’ve just ran into a dear friend, “I’m glad you made it, take a seat.”

She obliges and I notice how curious she is. Always arching her neck around to take a look around the space. 

“First time in a Retinal Resort?”   

She nods while I take a sip from my whiskey and make a quick plan of action on how to approach this. Only the higher-class citizens kick back in Retinal Resort.

“Can I buy you a drink? -If  you’re old enough, of course. ” 

“I’m old enough, but I’m fine.” She answers curtly. “You said you had an offer for me?”

“I did indeed, straight down to business then?” 

I keep my tone good natured and lively but she doesn’t crack a smile or even laugh. God, what a buzzkill. She must really want that money. 

So I take out a piece of paper from my coat pocket and pass it to her across the shiny table. It’s a screen capture of the surveillance footage caught from the fight this morning. A little blurry but it’ll do. 

“What am I looking at here?” She inquires, raising an eyebrow. 

I lean forward, pointing out the young man with the dark hair in the photograph and tap twice. 

“Him, he’s an...” I drag out the sentence, trying to improvise an lie that she would believe. “Figure of interest -to help with progress in an investigation. We need him.”   

 “So you want me to catch this guy...?” Her hand is hovering over a ray gun at her belt, An  clean, hardly  standard issue gun.

I nod quickly and fake a smile, praying the girl can’t see that I’m nearly breaking a sweat here to not lose it with her “I see you came prepared, how impressive!”

Flare merely scoffs and folds her arms. “I carry it with me. You never know what kind of company you’ll find when your walking home in the Lobby.”

There it is. Another fucking dig at her shitty life I don’t care about. I’m not gonna hand her five carbons out of sympathy.

“I heard gunshots from my room early in the morning. I’m guessing that there was a fight and this is a photograph from it...?”

She looks up at me like I’m testing her.  Flare’s still a poor unsure soul that has second thoughts on her own responses. So I nod and decide to milk it for all it’s worth but truth is, an idiot  with half a brain can put two and two together and get the same correct answer as her. 

“Your perceptive. That’s good, very good in a Crow. I see Korse has taught you well, Flare. ”

COMPIMENTS! Feed a person’s ego and they’ll fall head over heels for you. 

“So, you want me to take care of him?” Flare asks, leaning back in her chair. 

“Not necessarily. He’s needed, alive. It’s an easy job, Flare. I can see your an aspiring young woman, but to make it as an Exterminator then you have to start work independently.”

“So kidnap him?”

“Well, yes technically, but this is an criminal we’re talking about. Just get him to us,  he’ll be dealt with, I’ll give you the money and leave a good word with Korse about your work.”

Lie, but someone of her age should know better. 

Flare stands up, smiling. 

“I’ll get him by tonight.” 

Chapter Text

The mood’s sombre here. Why wouldn’t it be, after you watch a friend die and then be taken away.  

Crash is silent. A scary silence, Valentino told me. The kid warned that if anyone spoke out of line in a time like this, Crash would lose his shit. But the leader paces around and mutters stuff under his breath and no one, not even Roxy, goes near.  

Ghouls in his tent. I don’t know how someone can fall back asleep after this. Rocky can. But when I walk by his tent, I hear the murmur of music. The volume going into his headphones must be loud if I can hear it. Maybe he wants it loud enough to drown out his own thoughts.  

Everyone else is outside. The Alley is stained in the remains of Ghoul’s powder paint bomb. Rag-Tag says he’s the one who threw it and saved our asses from that Exterminator. He didn’t seem too professional, I mean, I got to land some decent hits on the guy and his Dracs before they took Amber.  

Oh god…Poor Amber. Poor Cosmo having to deal with that. Watching someone close to you die and then barely have the time to grieve before they're gone again. I barely knew those guys. But I know that sting, that sting of loss. From watching Tatch choke on her words and the way her eyes rolled back, all bloodshot and faded. She was only a Crow who knew her way around a med bay, but she kept us all alive after the attack. Until she got sick. It was the type of loss that weighs you down, a rock that drags you down deep into the ocean and you feel like there’s no going forward.    

Cosmo was sitting by the wall, looking like she’d only woken up here and had no recollection of where she was or how she got there. Besides her was Roxy and Rag-Tag.  

No one was saying anything. I just sat down beside Rag-Tag, too tired to talk and too shaken up to sleep. But besides me I heard the soft scribbling of pencil on paper. I turn to Rag-tag and he’s in deep concentration, and on the page there’s sketch of Amber.   

It’s simple and so accurate. Different from Penelope’s complex acrylic portraits. But Rag-Tag’s drawing brings out all the striking details about Amber. The glassy droid eyes, her picture-perfect ponytail and the contrast of black and white in her outfit.   

 
“That’s nice.” I whisper against the silence. “It’s exactly like her.”  

Rag-tag mumbles a thanks.  “It’s for her”  he mouths, gesturing his head to Cosmo and I nod in understanding.  “She’ll appreciate that.”  I respond.   

Then Roxy speaks, breaking the honorary silence. It’s the first time I’ve heard her talk.  

“What did Amber mean by the Destroya, Cosmo?”  

Cosmo shrugs and sinks further down the wall. Rag-Tag moves away but Roxy persists.      

“I thought it was a code between you two. I understand you were both close. She was probably your favourite record. But it- it just sounded...I thought it was a warning.”   

Cosmo stirs then, standing up. I don’t know what happens next, Rag-Tag grabs my arm and pulls me away, away from the conflict about to happen.   

“It’s the first time a Crow’s been around here.” He mutters, “Tension’s high.”   

“I get that- I know what she’s going through, with losing someone and- “  

Rag-Tag scoffs and runs a hand through his hair. “No, you don’t. You don’t know what it’s like, the gravity of losing someone to  them ! You only just got here for fuck's sake!”  

“I do know!” I protested, “I may not have been here for long, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know that pain- that shock of seeing that violence happens right before your eyes!”   

Rag-Tag shut his notebook and huffed.   

“Go get some sleep. Crash would want to get vengeance tomorrow...”    

Blunt way to finish an argument. It left me frustrated, unfocused, I could still feel that heat of anger in my bones from the fight. I couldn’t possibly go back to sleep, not after that. I had to do  something .   

Then I heard Rocky whining at my feet. I didn’t even hear come up to me. Just goes to show how good Rocky is at his job.   

Crap- the sun’s rising, it must be seven or eight in the morning now. Rocky’s expecting breakfast now.   

But the atmosphere here is too tense to be asking anyone anything right now. The canned meatloaf that I ate before bed seemed like years ago now. My stomach feels hallow. Like there’s much more important things going on than to be eating now. Back when I was training for fights, I was told over and over again not to skip meals. It’ll harm my physique; it’ll make me weaker. Try to eat something, anything, even a little, no matter the circumstances. I stressed that again to Penelope back in Ash-Valley to get her off my case. I should feed Rocky. I should find food to share out with the gang. I won’t let them fall- after all, being new, it’s the least I could do.   

 Rag-Tag said I could find old food cans in people’s trash. It all tastes like sawdust according to him, but it isn’t too different from what I ate at Ash-Valley. If a meal tastes of favourless wheat and barley, then it’s healthy for you. So, I head down just the way Rag-Tag lead me yesterday, into the Tenfold Alleyway.  

Daylight doesn’t improve the state of these streets. Rubbish lines the pavement, I carefully dodge broken glass and Rocky gets his paws filthy in the puddles, leaving a trail of paw prints behind us. All the windows are shut, and neon signs are off. Not a single Porno Droid in sight. Never thought robots could be nocturnal.   

I come to a dead end. I must’ve have wandered off the Lobby streets and back into the Labyrinth of Back alleys without realising.... Rocky stiffs the air and barks. He sees something here I don’t. Something threatening...  

And before I have time to realise what it is, I feel something stab into my neck and a sudden sharp pain that spreads quickly. I reach my hand out behind me and pull out a dart- one dripping in my blood and some other gel-like substance.   

The walls around me are waving- up and down and up and down – before I realise it, the ground greets me and my face is pressed against the cold pavement and every time I try to stand, I collapse back into it...like sinking sands...quick sands...I’m going, going quickly.   

I fight the sleep that feels like it’s taking over. I was- I got shot, with some arrow...  

No Finn,  Dart . Shit, what the hell is even the difference...? I feel so sick, I may vomit. Did I lose blood? Am I dying? Is this death?  

I shake my head furiously and ahead I see that dear old dog. He’s excited, he’s running around some woman, jumping up... Penelope...?  

No. Jesus Christ, No. Rocky’s not playing, he’s  attacking.   

And Penelope aims a kick at Rocky's stomach, he falls, falls deep into the surroundings and my eyes can barely keep up with him. I can barely see him. I can barely even keep my eyes open. Penny’s face is veiled by shadow. She’s moving too fast, like she’s on duty again and I can barely catch a glimpse.   

Her hair is short, brighter. Bright...was it always this bright...? What did they do to poor Penelope...?  

I shut my eyes. My stomach drops like I’m falling. Maybe I am falling.   

I lose track of time and let the sleep take over.   

Chapter Text

I’m not proud of what I did. That’s the most predictable thing to say, but it’s true, it’s the truth. The circumstances were out of my control- your sister. I had to protect Avery even to the point of returning to that terrible point of my life.  

Back then I’d look around at everyone else in the Scarecrow Units. They were all in the same boat as I was. I’d take a deep breath and keep looking forward with my head held up so I could convince myself that what I did really was for the “Greater Good”. It wasn’t, there’s no hiding it, and I won’t pretend. I wasn’t stupid then and I’m not now. But I had nowhere else to go -Better Living made it clear this was the only life available for an immigrant they’d taken from his home. I did what I had to and was told it was an honourable way to live, over and over.  

Even when enough was enough and I started to search for a way to wash the blood off my hands, I had a boy at home to look after, and I must put food on the table. When we escaped to the Zones, I thought I’d get no forgiveness for my actions. Everything was more vibrant out there, especially the blood that spilled out the sand. But suddenly I had a new purpose in my life; My family. I swore to protect them over anything else and be the father they needed out here. A survivor, a fighter, but not someone who easily gives into propaganda.  

If I ever took another life with a blaster, it was so they got to grow up.  

That is what I’ll stand by now.  

So, it’s what I told myself after shooting that Droid. I’ll take one and spare the rest. It was all for Avery, for Max, for Valkyrie, for our future. I pushed every other thought and feeling down to the bottom.  

After the morning’s patrol, I was given downtime in my cell. I’m gonna call it that. The Battery Tower’s contain a few private beds for Exterminators if their working long shifts or for a long number of days, or in my case -to be supervised. I cannot be sure if there were cameras in the room, but I’m certain it was bugged and messing with one of those micro-bits instantly alerts the Higher-Ups (so be careful if you ever find one).  

 Trinity was taken back to her cell. I wrote, then I stared at the ceiling. I won’t sleep, I’d only have nightmares of the death of the Droid, that god-awful screech as she went down.  

Then I heard two knocks. I don’t know how much time had passed. An hour, a day, more... 

“The Day’s not over yet Beck. There’s someone waiting for us down in a meeting room and it’s urgent.”  

Hector’s grating voice.  Just what I needed.  

So, I left the room. I could distract myself from what I had done that morning by focusing on getting closer to getting out of BL/ind. He leads me back down to the floor prisoners are held.  

“We here to get Trinity from her cell?” I ask, trying to keep up with Hector’s usual, stressed walking speed as we take the same route as the day before; down the corridor, down the elevator to the underground floors, back in the Prison Facility. The Doctor only briefly shakes his head. He hasn’t spoke at all yet. I thought something was wrong, did the Director catch us out? 

Instead, he enters a long, complex code into a pin code and opens a door into the same interrogation chamber I first met the Director in. Memories rushed back of that night. The false smile, Avery’s photograph, the promise I made to her... 

I’m about to open my mouth to say something when Hector gestures to the table where, tied roughly to the chair is someone with a bag over their head that leans forward like a dead marionette.  The breathing is heavy and rugged. This person...whoever they are... is knocked out.  

Then Hector nudges me, showing me the page in his clipboard. 

I thought we could use some extra help :) 

I could only stare at disbelief at Hector’s message. Reading it, I could just hear the optimism in his tone. As if he was participating my next words, Hector hands me a pencil with the Better Living logo.  

Shhhhh! We can’t wake our guest, Beck. I’ll answer your questions here.  

I glared at Hector’s smug grin before gripping the pencil and writing my response.  

Who the hell is this? 

You’ll see when we lift the hood. Someone you know from last night’s patrol 

One of the Juvie-Halls?! Why do you have a Juvie-Hall here? 

Long story. I believe he is a co-worker of Penelope’s. I can explain more later (PROMISE!!) 

Who kidnapped him? 

A college of mine. Favours for favours.  

Just then the door burst open, the 8-digit password door opened, 

“Doctor Barrent-!” 

Hector instantly shushed her and hastily gestured her to come in as he whispered in a panicked voice. 

“Not too loud, not too loud, Flare! -He hasn’t woken yet!” 

The young women nodded before turning slightly to stare, then the Doctor and finally the .... (Prisoner? Hostage?) 

I noticed then that she was young, younger than Trinity, in her early twenties with ginger hair and a pristine white uniform. A trainee Exterminator. One that Hector gave the password of this room to.  

I tugged at Hector’s arm furiously, 

“You got a student to do your dirty work?!” I hissed. Hector half-grinned and stepped aside. 

“Beck, this is Flare, an apprentice Crow. She’s aloud to come gawk at the stray she caught.” 

“I won’t gawk- “Flare hissed, folding her arms, “I’m here because I still don’t know why you need him!” She pointed at the unconscious man, “I know there’s something going on, and I want in. It’s about time I get my first real job around here!”  

“Too eager for your own good, aren’t you Miss Flare?” 

She huffed at the Doctor’s patronizing comment and took a step closer to me, her eyes narrowing. 

“I know who you are already, I recognize your name. My mentor’s been talking a lot about you.” 

I scoffed. “Am I mean to be afraid by that? How’s about you get back to your training, kid?”  

She beamed proudly. “Korse gave me an afternoon off. He prefers to have shift out in the Desert for himself.” 

Korse. 

The man who ambushed us, landed us in this shit.  

 I could’ve killed his apprentice there, my revenge. She knew- The way she grinned, the way she didn’t break a sweat. I took a step forward, but Hector lightly pulled my arm back.  

“If you really want to know what all this is about, then you and I have to have a little chat outside Miss Flare.” 

Hector spoke gently as he guided her towards the door, only turning to give me one brief instruction on what to do with the prisoner. 

“Wake them up and tell them what we’re doing here, to Better Living. If he doesn’t help us, shot him in the head.” 

“Help us by doing what exactly?” I questioned  

“By acting as our double agent. Someone to tell us who the easy targets are, if your serious about keeping the Madame Director clueless.”  

He gave me a wink before leaving the room with Flare, and I was alone with the prisoner.  

Chapter Text

The first thing that happened was the sack being torn off. The lights stung and blinded me, but even worse was my head... The absolute ache I felt when I came around. I wanted to throw up, I wanted to collapse make onto the ground and stay there.  Each thought felt painful...

Cosmo’s silence.

Ragtag’s drawing of Amber.

Rocky laying on the sidewalk, hurt.

Penelope with red hair. 

A dart in my neck.

 Somewhere in this room, someone was talking...or maybe it was multiple people... I felt like I was underwater and every time I tried to swim back up, something was holding me back. I could breathe.... I was alive... 

“Wake up.”

That voice- it was unfamiliar. Gruff, like it had been in the wars, but also firm. 

“Wake up.”

I was dazed, confused, feeling like I’d been thrown into the deep end of the pool. I can feel a gash on my forehead. But the moment I reached up, my arm was tugged back. At this point, my vision was coming back and-

Oh shit, that’s rope.

I’ve been fucking kidnapped. 

It made sense now. Once I came to that conclusion, the events of the past few hours pieced themselves together like a jig-saw puzzle. The dart was shot at my neck- containing a sedative, which must’ve caused me to see things-

So, it might not be Penelope I saw!

-I fall unconscious, wake up, there’s a sack over my head and I’m tied to a chair. 

Damn, I should be smarter than that! I’m a graduated Exterminator; I should know better than not to watch my back! 

If I get out of this stupid chair and find my captors, they’re in for a world of pain. 

This room I’m in, it’s small and cramped. The walls dull, the ceiling fan echoes. 
And the man in front of me, waiting for me to say something- he has scruffy dark hair and a beard. His eyes look troubled, but he’s focused alright. Then as if things couldn’t get worse, I saw his blazer, the patch on the left arm. I freeze. It’s the same patch I saw repeatedly in Ash-Valley.

The same patch Penelope and I wore...

This man is the same Exterminator who ambushed the Dead-Beats last night. The same man who killed Amber, right before our eyes.

I didn’t get kidnapped by chance. I was captured by Better Living. They came back for me. 

I’m already dead. 

“Tell me who you are, and where I am!” I demand, but my voice is cracked and oh god, I feel so thirsty now. The man rubs his eyes and grins.

When he speck’s, his voice is more hoarse and tired, unlike last night’s fight. 

“I think you know where you are, son. And if you're asking my name, it’s Beck.” 

That’s what he claimed. All fucking kidnappers have an alias, even Better Living ones, and how dare he call me son! I’m not his flipping kid, I’m someone that in a few hours' time is gonna be water boarded or some other messed up, pain enduing shit!

“Oh great” I sneer, trying my best to lean forward against my binds “I’ve been captured by a comedian, what’s next?! I know who are! I remember you from last night- and kidnapping your kills isn’t “smart” of you, It’s cowardice!”

“And I remember you. Sparky kid who could throw a punch. Stuck out a lot, did you know that?”

I fidget in the chair, tracing over the knots in the rope I can find. There might be some hope of getting out of here, finding Penny... She must be here too, somewhere. 

“Just tell me why I’m here! Why- Why me?!” 

The Crow shook his head, adverting his eyes. Was he sent out to catch me? God... Penny could’ve already been killed by them, and I’d have no way of knowing, and now I’m going the same way. 

“Listen, I’m ain’t gonna lie to ya. I was in your spot only a copula days ago and I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen. Honest.”

“Start by letting me go!” I demanded, “Or- “

“Or nothing, because right now you’re inside the most feared, whispered about building for Undergrads. But I ain’t here to brainwash or hurt ya kid, I’m weapon empty anyway.”

I scoffed. “Do you think I’m dumb enough to take a Crow’s word for that?!”

The Exterminator went quiet before shaking his head slowly. “Not at all. It’s all Muy Niebla but you ain’t in trouble kid. In fact, you're of interest. He- thinks you can be of help to us.”  

“Why do you want me?” I repeated.

I can’t let my guard down here. I’m probably just as wanted and valuable as Penelope is. Getting caught was no surprise, but the Exterminator’s gonna be lying to me. I’m not just a Juvie Hall out on the streets; I’m a runaway traitor to Better Living. 

But this Crow was out of place here. He’s someone who wouldn’t last long in Ash valley with the likes of Rook around. 

“I’m not one of them, I’m trying to take them down, but I need a spy.”

“Is that all?”

This couldn’t be real. This Crow was out of his thick mind, but he nodded gravely.

“Yes, but I can’t say why they picked you out of all of them. I’ve been kept in the dark for most of this. Another associate of mine sent that Scarecrow out to capture you. Truth is, I don’t know why it was you. But what I do know is that we need someone to keep tabs on the Juvie-Hall gangs for us. Someone Centre-City.”

I shifted in my seat and glared at the man. The way he talks is unlike any other Crow. It reminds me of Ragtag and the rebel tongue he speaks in. 

“And what’s in it for me...?”

“Money, I suppose.” He shrugged. Like, shrugged. Christ, he really doesn’t know what’s going on. “Is there something else I can offer you?” 

“There is. You took a friend of mine, I need to know if she’s alive or else-”

The door bursts open and in storms-

“If you expect me to work with you imbeciles, then try sharing with us the plan before Better Living get us lined up against the wall and killed!”

Penny. 

Her hair windswept and wild. 

Arms warped around herself just like every memory I have of her.

Eyes peering around the room like a hawk-

-until she sees me. 

She freezes and her eyes go big with shock, like they did when she saw the scars others brought back from battles, like they did when she held Terch in her final moments, Penny sat there with a chest full of bravery even when I knew she was so, so scared, everyone was. 

 But Penelope doesn’t look scared now. Her arms drop to her side, and I can barely find the words to say something, anything. 

“Finn...?”

She rushes over to my side and from her face I realise how awful I look right now. Beaten, bloodied and bound. This was far from the reunion I imagined for us. Penelope turns sharply to face the Exterminator and it’s the first time in what feels like weeks I hear her sound so furious. 

“Tell me what you’ve done!”

The Exterminator steps back and nervously grabs the back of his neck. Whatever his plan is, it’s going downhill fast.

“I didn’t- Hector told me to recruit this guy!” 

“Hector told you?! And you just blindly follow that bastards orders, being the solider you are!” She yells with her fists shaking. 

“I’m okay Penny. Seriously I’m okay.” I  stammered and her glaze softens. She walks back over to my side, gently placing a porcelain hand on my cheek, right on the bruise. 

I’ve missed her so much...

The door opens again and this time two people barge in. One is a young woman with red hair and a white Exterminator’s uniform. The other is a older man, with neatly combed blonde hair you’d only get in a 50s commercial and a white doctor’s coat. He quickly shuts the door behind him. 

“I’m sorry,“ he starts, “We couldn’t stop her, Beck- I brought Flare to meet Trinity and to take her here and she got out of control-“

“Save it.” The Exterminator (Beck I believe?) snaps , shooting a harsh glare at the pair “Trinity is right. You gotta let us in on the plan Hector, who the hell is this guy and why did Flare snatch him for us?”

“You said I was meant to be a spy!” I intervene. Penelope takes a knife out from her jacket and I recognise it as the same one she used in Ash-Valley. As for how she held onto to it, I don’t know but she carefully cuts away at the rope until my wrists are free. The Doctor watches and  smiles, his eyes lighting up at Penelope and I. He whispers something to the young woman and she grins too. 

“That was half true...but also because I was rewatching Beck’s patrol and something caught my eye.” He began as he slowly began pacing around the room, like a villain revealing his plan. Fuck it, that was exactly what was happening here. 

“You see, Beck and Penny here are working for me. Exterminators helping to...shall we say; “Throw a wench in the gears of this machine”? We need a little more help with that and I thought “Why not this outcast?” So, You were collected by the remarkable Miss Flare here...” He gestures to the young woman who folds her arms in triumph “...and brought to us.”

“And who’s us?” I ask, glaring at the Doctor. 

“Don’t” Penelope whispers, her eyes narrowing, “Stay out of it please.” 

She’s afraid again, and that somehow makes me afraid too. 

“Just as I thought Penny. You know that boy.” He states, “Don’t try to deny it. Not after all the trouble I went to reunite you two lovebirds.” 

My eyes lock with Penelope’s. I feel my fists start to shake and she holds them tight.

“I don’t understand Penny...”

There’s a tension in this room now, one so thick you could slice it in half. Flare, My kidnapper and Beck, my interrogator don’t interrupt it. But Doctor Hector laughs. 

“Oh Penny...You poor, poor thing... I can particularly hear you asking yourself “Why am I doing this?” Well Lemme give you a hint: Beck has his daughter, Flare has her money, And you have Finn. You have a reason to help me, to fight back against this corporation’s tyranny.  I can give you what you want.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

I walked out.  

Stole a car.  

Drove away, out there.   

Through the 1138th tunnel and back out to the open road. From the City to the Desert.   

It was almost too easy, and I’m only seeing that now as I’m writing this. Maybe the rage blindsided me. I just knew- in my bones, that I had to go out. Cola used to say that ‘Joys had a “Sixth Sense” for danger. They just knew when to warn their crew, when to run or fright. That’s why Doctor Death always knows when one goes down. Maybe one of you has that spark in your blood. I know Valkyrie did, like stardust. I used to think I didn’t have that spark.   

The house was empty; left the same way it was the night I was captured. Dust settled on the furniture and photo. Every step I took, a different memory came to mind. But I knew she wasn’t hard to find. Valkyrie set up “Base” for our family in that ram shackled house, a "lighthouse" that we could use every so often knowing that it was too unassuming to be taken by some other crew. Moving from place to place, from time to time was a precaution in case of an ambush.   

So, I left and headed back to the car.   

“Beck...?”  

I wasn’t meant to make eye contact for so long. The static in the air is making them burn up to tears. It’s always there, especially in moments like these. It feeds off tension. She hasn’t aged a day, as she stands as proud as gold with a ray gun aimed at my chest. And without thinking I’m doing the same. The past few years has nailed in the message of never second-guessing rebels, no matter their backgrounds or in my case, our past.   

At first, all that could be heard between us was the wind howling in the sands. The dark sent a chill right down my bones, but I could make her out, standing a few feet ahead of me in the grim moonlight. Then, she noticed the unfamiliar jacket,  the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W patch, - an Death Omen.  

When I met your mother, she nursed me back to health after I fell unconscious in a clap, where I was meant to bring home the bodies of at least three rebels. I thought I'd been shot down by my rivals, and I crawled for shelter into an abandoned church I had taken a shot to the chest and the ankle and was in a whole new world of pain. I wanted someone to take me out of this torture, but at the same time I was begging to live. I was only in my late twenties and Max was still a little kid and I had to go home to take care of my dear son.  Hell, I even considered praying (I didn't know Killjoys believed in the Phoenix Which yet, I said the prayers my Madre had taught me) Your Mother saw chance where others saw Game Over. She nursed me back to health (Valkyrie was a well known Death Tech and a real Crutch) and I told her my story.  I realised then I was no longer on BLI’s leash. Being alive in the Desert meant freedom. I decided that this change, if for anyone, was for Max. So, he could grow and live as loud as he should. Valkyrie agreed to help me back to Battery City to get Max out and sooner or later, we fell in love, Valkyrie and me. She was my Saint, my lifesaver, the one who showed me the sun of the Desert. And she looked past all my scars. I told her I wanted to change and Valkyrie believed me. 

This Desert-Queen looked by all my mistakes. She washed the blood off my hands and showed me how beautiful the world really was when you opened your eyes. And I asked her again, and again, why me? She said she knew I was someone drowning under Better Living’s rule. Just like a half a million other Killjoys before they reached the Desert. My cuts started to heal and every night I’d start to sleep underneath the stars again. Those days of Blood Money were dusted out by the gutter.   

For years, Valkyrie had known I was a pacifist to violence. I’d only ever raise a blaster to protect her or the kids- and I’d never wear the Scarecrow’s uniform again. Until now.  

“I told our son you were dead…You’re as good as if you’re one of them now.”  

Her words are loud and clear. There’s a haunting silence that creeps into the Desert at these hours, you can feel it in the air- it never means well.  But I know that face, gritted teeth and focused eyes and I must stay professional…as for the comment on Max, I must find him. Knowing how unpredictable and cutthroat Valkyrie is in a firefight, her attitude towards conflict with Better Living. She might’ve just let Max off to fight by himself.  

 “I’m sorry.” I said, even know it wasn’t enough.  

At this point any exterminator should’ve called a duel. But I’m not worth killing. I won’t die letting my son think I betrayed him, making him grow up too fast to be a teenage soldier, a freedom fighter that’s too innocent for the dust that makes up this Desert. And I won’t die without putting Valkyrie and Max at ease, that our daughter, his younger sister is alive.  

 “Val, I did all I can not to become another pawn for them. But Avery’s life is on the line- “   

 And just as I speak those words a flash of pain flies by.  I feel my cheek and there’s blood. Smoke emerging from where she’s standing, outta her blaster.  

 “So do your job then, Exterminator. Kill me and live with that guilt, if you can feel it.”   

 There’s real venom in her tone, so I raise the damned blaster and a spark soar by. Barely scraping her because I know I can’t just pull the trigger on her.  If I could get this fight to a secluded location, I can explain everything. The Valkyrie who I knew is gone. She’s a stranger again, a threat.    

She takes a step closer. Maybe this duel was always gonna happen, the Director made sure of that. The only thing I’ve got to do is drag it out as long as possible. I can die in her arms, she’ll rescue Avery and find Max.  

Unfortunately, that’s not what Valkyrie wants. So that means it's now or never.   

“They have Avery!” I yell; the echo of my voice is fighting against the rumble of fires. “They used her as a hostage and made me come back to work with them! I didn’t have a choice, just please understand!”   

Valkyrie stumbles back, her ray-gun dropping to her side in despair like the world’s tipping over. But she regains herself. Staring at me with narrowed eyes and ready to spit out another poisonous reply. But her grip loosens. She couldn’t – no, couldn’t leave her daughter to die.    

“Better Living are gonna unleash a big attack on the Zones. I don’t know much, but it’s gonna be like the Analog Wars, all over again!” My voice is pleading with her to understand the stakes, but she just glares at me, and I know that look- it’s the one she has before she goes into a fight.  

“You have to believe me...please Valkyrie...” 

She scoffs and suddenly I felt the burning impact on my arm, and I step back, trying to keep my balance.  

She’s shooting to kill. Is the thought that comes to mind as I hold back tears, grinding my teeth into beyond as I doubled over. Getting burnt on the arm isn’t even meant to hurt- but the fact that Valkyrie was holding the gun made it double damage. 

“How am I supposed to believe ya now? I thought you weren’t a Crow anymore, you swore those days were over!” She roared over the howl of the wind. “They’d say anthing, anything, to try and get me to hand myself over, but don’t you dare bring my children into that!”  

“But they are!” I cried, “I’m trying to protect us, our family, even now!”  

“You knew just how valuable you were to me, Beck. But I know that ain’t really you up there anymore, I know what BLI does to us- blenched, brainwashed, it’s all as good as dead to me! And my poor daughter is gone, and so is my partner!” 

Her tone is so apathetic, defeated. She turns on her heal and drops her ray gun in the sand, not bothering to pick it up. But she turns to look at me, one last time and there’s tears in her eyes, staining cheeks and making her makeup run. Valkyrie still looked just as fierce as ever, but right then and there was one of the only times I ever saw a crack in her.  

“Stay away from the Desert. Even if the Lost Cause I fell in love with is gone, I don’t want him dead.” 

“Valkyrie-” 

“Go home Beck, back to Battery City.” 

Chapter Text

“One mistake and it’s over, I need you to fully understand that.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Investigation is something a exterminator only does if ordered to. We’re -you’re- working on suspicion here. Nothing more and nothing less.” 

“The Doctor made it clear he wants to damage Better Living. And not just property either. People are going to die if no one stops this!”

You know your not a hero. You’ll never make it as one, no matter how many ways they spin it for you. But perhaps this is a actual chance to save some lives. One chance to something “truly” good. After all, when someone is presented with choosing between killing some renegade outlaws versus  a city of innocents, the decision is easy as long as you don’t think to much about it. 

“Then of course we step in. That makes them rebels, and rebels want to tear this city into chaos.”

“That’s a bad thing how?”

“If you bothered to even try pay attention in your classes then you’ll notice a common thread in humanity. Chaos leads to the “big ideas” that people would kill themselves over. Better Living Industries- they’re leading a safer world.”

That’s what everyone’s told. Repeat what the propaganda says, just be careful. If the people above you insist this is the better life then you’ll accept it. Even people holding weapons are cowards deep down. 

“It’s our duty to protect that city at all costs. Understood?”

“Yes- Of course I do, but- this is big. This isn’t just patrol anymore, this is a city-wide threat, and these aren’t Killjoys, these are traitors!”  

“But you’ve followed my plan so far. Baited the prey...”

The key to being near the best Killologist in the business was mind set. The Desert was a hunting ground, Killjoys were the prey, that was the idea....But  the most effective way to catch some prey was to set a trap. Bait them, lure them, capture them . There was no hope for a rebel after that. All that awaited them was pain.  

“They think they can trust you. So let them- and when the time’s right I’ll expose the threat to higher management. From there on, they’ll be my responsibly.”

“And...?” 

“I find out everything there has to been known about their “plan”, whatever means necessary. Heh, those turncoats would be different people by the time I’m done. Chaos is simply a disease. It spreads like wildfire in silk. But any disease can be contained, controlled and cured. We’re granting the City the biggest favour of all. "

 
“These aren’t killjoys sir-  not all of them. You saw the records. They’re highly skilled rebels-” 

“-And they shot to kill, just like us. Y’know what they say out there, in the Zones...? “Art is the Weapon”. Talk about one hell of a slogan. But for us, authority  is our role. I’ll make sure, they understand loud and clear that Better Living doesn’t tolerate traitors, and by the time I’m done, they’ll be pleading for an execution. That’s our “Art”.  Don’t  forget that. We’ll make a masterpiece if I play the cards right. Let the Zone’s see the irony of their failure.  ” 

The Killjoys were such predictable people. Better Living made it that way for them, creating a utopia of a city that would feel like a personal torture for those who saw beauty in imperfections and sought after their dreams. Those people would either surrender and abide by the rules, or seek a escape in any way possible. It was surprising- only when things are taken away from people do they realise how much they hold them dear. Enough to fight, to risk their lives for them, to kill those who threaten them. The perfect hazard to warn the civilians of Battery City with. 

“One of them stormed out, The Director would know where he is. The Doctor’s left with the other two. That bastard thinks I’ve gone home for the evening. ”

“Your first mistake is under-estimating your rivals. ”

“I’ll do better then, that Doctor is the least of our problems for now. He doesn’t have any materials for any attack yet either. What happens now?”

   “Simple: We bide our time.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text