Chapter Text
Today was not a good day for Emynn.
Only got a few hours of sleep the night before.
The Cyber Coaster they usually took to get home was out of order.
They got lost because they thought a shortcut through the alleyways was a good idea.
Also, someone had spilled spaghetticode on their work shirt.
Nice.
Emynn mentally berates themself for not knowing the city’s layout, despite LIVING IN IT, and for switching out their cellphone for an older flip-type one… The kind without any map programs.
Great. Idiot.
They stare at their phone's small screen…
…The only contact is the Queen, their boss.
…
…They miraculously do remember a different phone number but it’s theirs.
…
They shut the phone close and swiftly shove it back in their pants pocket.
Doing things the hard way is how you get better, actually!
Some more twists and turns later, and Emynn decides to take their 5th break in the cyber hell-maze.
Why is it like this???
They lean on a dumpster and stare at the big grid in the sky.
It's very late. They're exhausted.
Their hand finds its way back to their phone.
Maybe I should just rip the bandage off and call-
Suddenly, the dumpster starts shaking. Violently.
"Ah!" They quickly back away from it.
The lid swings open, hitting the wall above it with a loud CLANG! that makes Emynn wince.
Whatever, or rather whoever is inside hops out.
“H HHELLO [[who the hell are you]]!! ITS ME, SPAMTON G.
SPAMTON!!!”
Why does everyone have to be so loud?!
What stands before them now is a strange… Addison-seeming fellow. He has bright red cheeks, and a nutcracker mouth that his shouting voice escapes from.
Also, he smells weird.
“Oh hi??”
They squint at him, for some reason this guy looks familiar. The pale coloring, the black hair… Have I seen him somewhere before? I've never heard of that name though...
...The Spamton guy said something.
“I, uh. Sorry, I didn't catch that? Sorry…”
Spamton repeats himself, slower, “DO YOU. WANT. [Great Deals]!? ONLY [[nothing]] % OFF!!!”
Whatever he’s attempting to advertise is not what they need right now.
Noticing that Spamton is Looking Directly At Them, Emynn starts a staring contest with the ground.
“No, uhm… I'm just lost.”
“ WAIT A MINUTE. YOU"RE THE NEW E_MAIL GUY, RIGHT??”
Emynn looks back up, voluntarily losing the stare-off, and nods.
“Yeah, uh,“
They got hired years ago.
”have been for a while now. Haha...” They awkwardly add.
Spamton's expression softens, as much as it seemingly can, his voice much more hushed.
“I remember my days of [delivery]...”
Abruptly, he shifts back to his previous demeanor.
“NICE TO KNOW SHE STILL HIRES [[suckers]], HEHAHEHAHAHAA!!!” His head glitches and grows as he laughs.
“Yeah. hm…”
Emynn starts fiddling with the strap of their bag. “Uh..”
They attempt to lean on the wall closest to them, body starting to feel flimsy. Shoulder and head meets with hard digital bricks. The mail hat is scrunching into itself as it is not so fond of this decision.
"YES?"
The shorter of the two idly sways, side to side. Side to side.
He doesn't look like he's doing well either…
“Do you know- eugh-” Their head feels fuzzy, vision lightly blurring. It takes a head shake and a few blinks for them to refocus.
“You got, like.. directions or something? I have nnoooo fucking idea where I am.”
“YOU'VE GOT THE [[righty-tighty]] MAN, I KNOW THIS CITY LIKE THE BACK OF MY” Spamton holds up his hand for emphasis, “[[five fingers friday]]!!”
Emynn smiles, “Oh! Th-”
“IT'LL COST YOU!”
Emynn deflates, “Oh. Thank you.”
Of course... Always the money.
They sigh and take out their wallet.
“Okay, how much?”
“ONLY [[10, 20, 30]]-" Spamton coughs loudly, "FOuRTY 5 KROMER! BETTER THAN ANY [[scamming, lyeing, cheating]] MAP [[applicatiion]]!!” He answers as happily as an Addison does when they're knowingly overcharging.
They hand their hard-earned cash and it is hungrily yanked from them. The salesman snickers to himself as he speedily counts the bills in a sort of hunched way, likely to prevent Emynn from taking it back if they changed their mind. His eyes look over to them a few short times before going right back to counting.
This is better than nothing… Hopefully.
After stuffing the money into his blazer's pocket, Spamton faces them again, “WHERE DO YOU GOTTA GO?”
“Uhm, my apartment. Building. It's on Circuit 33.. I think.”
Spamton promptly takes lead, waving his hand over.
“ALRIGHT YOU [Courier New], THIS-A-WAY!!!”