Chapter Text
Sometimes life in the Zones really sucked, and currently, Ghoul was considering this to be one of those times. Which was probably a bit (a lot) dramatic, but Ghoul was grumpy and didn’t give two fucks about it. It was obviously better than the alternative of living under the full control of Better Living Industries, but it also wasn’t fun to be sat wasting time in the midday desert heat waiting for a couple of people to show up. Especially when it was two people that you didn’t want to do business with at all. Ghoul didn’t like people coming to his house, because the more people who came by, the less safe it was, especially when the people swinging by were just as wanted by BLI as he and Jet were.
Sure, living in a shack small enough that Jet Star could basically touch both sides of the room with his arms outstretched wasn’t some sort of life of luxury out here. But they all had a mattress to sleep on, a semi-functional kitchen (who needed an oven anyway? It’s too hot for that.), a bathroom (sort of), and even a tiny table to make the place really seem like a home. A concrete slab and some sheet metal made up a little covered porch out front, offering a bit of shade from the sun. Plus, the place being that small just meant The Girl could decorate the walls with her drawings that she was so proud of. Though that did mean a risk of her deciding to take a hammer and nails to other things as well.
Eating cans of dog food for the past couple of weeks wasn’t that luxurious either. But when money got tight, it was more important to make sure Girlie got the good stuff so that she could stay healthy while she was still growing. And, yeah, it would be amazing to get to shower a little more often than the rain-reserve bins out back allowed them to. But, they were mostly out of the eyes of Better Living Industries, out where they lived in the Zones, and that’s what mattered the most.
The Girl didn’t seem to mind how they were living, though, especially not today of all days, since the ‘seasonal’ acid rain had finally cleared up. It took some persuasion to get her all prepped and ready, but after getting some sunscreen slathered on and a hat thrown on her head, she’d run right out into the sandy “front yard” to play. She had found a stick somewhere nearby and was using it to draw pictures on the ground. Occasionally, she’d run over and ask one of the boys to come see what she had drawn, and would ask if she remembered the names of letters or numbers correctly. She always did.
The boys had tried their hardest to keep The Girl educated during the past five years she had been with them. It started out with simple things, like teaching her how to tie her shoes or how to wash the dirt from behind her ears, before moving on to things like the alphabet and numbers. They may not have been the best teachers, especially considering that they had never even been to any sort of school, but they were trying to make sure The Girl was able to learn the basics. She needed to be able to survive on her own one day, if she wanted to.
Ghoul had been absentmindedly staring at The Girl as she dropped down the stick she was drawing with - apparently finished with her latest masterpiece. She was waving her arms about, her mouth moving but Ghoul couldn’t really hear what she was saying with how strong the wind was today. It took a moment, and Jet making a shooing motion with his hands, to realize she was trying to motion for Ghoul to come over.
With a sigh, Fun Ghoul stood up and wandered over for the fifth time in the past twenty minutes. He loved The Girl and making her happy, but it would be nice for Jet Star to have a turn since he’d been relaxing basically all day, and wasn’t getting some sort of extra low-intensity leg workout. The complaints didn’t stick around long in Ghoul’s brain, though, not as he saw the three little stick figures in the sand.
“It’s us!” The Girl exclaimed, a smile lighting up her face as she called, “Jet Star! Come too!”
As Jet Star joined them, The Girl explained that she was the short one in the middle (“obviously”). Jet Star had some scribbled curls, though the drawing may have left out some of how much hair was actually on his head, as it had been reduced to 3 whole squiggles. Fun Ghoul noticed that his hair had simply been reduced to two straight lines on the side of his head, which caused him to touch his hair and wonder if it was time to find a new style.
“It looks great, Girlie!” Jet Star said, a beaming smile on his face, “Maybe we can getcha some more paper from the market soon, so we can put it on the wall.”
“I love it!” Fun Ghoul added in, matching the enthusiasm that Jet Star had, but feeling a bit lame that he didn’t have anything else to say.
“Thanks! Go away now,” The Girl said, waving a hand dismissively as she turned back and started drawing on a new blank spot. Knowing that sticking around would just get them more sternly shooed, the boys returned to their spot and sat down.
Ghoul, honestly, was tired of sitting around and waiting for his clients to show up for the exchange. He hadn’t even wanted to do this deal in the first place, but the family really needed the money. They were on their last can of vegetables, and there were only a couple of cans of Power Pup left in the cabinets. Star and Ghoul could go a while without eating if they needed to, but they had agreed long ago to never let The Girl experience that.
It was a few days ago that Dr. Death-Defying had radioed out to Fun Ghoul, saying he had a prospective customer for him. Fun Ghoul was used to this sort of thing; past customers would tell their friends about Fun Ghoul, and since very few people actually had Ghoul’s radio frequency, Dr. D would pass along the message. It was the easiest way to do business out in the Zones whenever you weren’t wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. Not that it really worked; Fun Ghoul and Jet Star’s stories and reputations managed to spread through the desert fast.
Most of the time, customers were after something small: a battery for their radios to last longer, some small bombs for protection just in case a S/C/A/R/EC/R/O/W unit showed up, maybe wanting a quick modification to a raygun. The basic things in life. But when Dr. D mentioned that his friend was looking for a battery strong enough to repower an old BLI motorbike, Fun Ghoul had been taken by surprise. It was rare for anyone to get their hands on a battery-powered BLI model bike, rather than a beat-up gasoline-powered one left over from Witch knows when.
So, on suspicion that Dr. D was getting tricked by someone undercover (he had a way of being over-trusting of all the killjoys), Fun Ghoul had requested a lot more personal info than he normally would on a new client. He had a few suspicions of who the client could be if it hadn’t turned out to be a trick by the city, none of which Fun Ghoul wanted to interact with at any point in his life if he could. And of course, when Dr. D gave him the names “Party Poison” and “Kobra Kid,” Fun Ghoul had immediately declined. He didn’t sell anything to Batt Rats, and especially not anything that powerful.
But Dr. D had gone on an entire speech about how “those two are different” and that they’re “more accepting” and “act a lot like you and Jet so you all should be friends.” Ghoul had to act as if the last part wasn’t mildly offensive to him, even if he was curious as to what Dr. D had meant by that. Two kids born and raised in the city had no chance at being anything but the complete opposite of Star and Ghoul. But in the end, Ghoul needed the money to get more food and supplies somehow, and this deal could have their family set for at least a couple of weeks.
So far, it was ten minutes past the planned meeting time, and the siblings hadn’t even appeared on the horizon line yet. Fun Ghoul wasn’t overly pleased with the fact that they were late, but then again, no one’s stories ever mentioned whether or not the two were punctual. Not that Fun Ghoul had ever asked to be told any stories about them, word just gets around in the markets and bars about the “deadly siblings” that were seeming to quickly take over the minds - and hearts - of everyone in the Zones.
Ghoul had first started hearing the rumors of the siblings’ existence around the same time he and Star had saved The Girl, a little over five years ago. The talk at first wasn’t much, just two new city-rebels dragging themselves into the zones, and they seemed very young to be doing that all alone. But the stories of what they were capable of quickly took over conversations, and before long, it was clear to everyone that the two had become a real force within the Zones. The two had taken out a van full of Dracs just a few months after they showed up, and the City had been after them ever since. With every passing month, the two’s antics just seemed to get wilder to the point that Fun Ghoul could hardly believe them, even if it was a similar situation to something he had done himself.
Of course, as stories of what they were doing came along, the stories of who they were followed. People spoke less about Kobra Kid than they talked about his older sibling, and Fun Ghoul wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing since most of the stories were so conflicting. He had heard people call Kobra serious and that he was analyzing your every move, just waiting to attack you the moment you mess up. Others said he was shy and was just following in his sibling’s shadow, trying his best to adjust to life outside the city. And a select few others had said much worse things that Ghoul had heard whispered about himself at times, and no matter how much Fun Ghoul hated Batt Rats, he hoped that Kobra Kid had punched them for it.
Party Poison was the one who everyone always talked about, whether that be describing them as their knight in blue leather armor or the incarnation of the Devil themself. They were charming, funny, and the biggest flirt you’ve ever met, yet they were arrogant, quick-tempered, and sharp-tongued at the same time, it seemed. They could take someone down easily in a fight, but rarely got into them unless the siblings truly felt disrespected. As Ghoul was told more stories from more & more people, it seemed that even those who didn’t respect Kobra Kid wouldn’t dare utter the same comments around Party Poison. They were a ticking time bomb, and it wasn’t the type of bomb that Fun Ghoul wanted to be around.
“Ghoul,” Jet said, nudging him to pull Ghoul out of his thoughts, “I can hear engines off in the distance.”
“Let’s get Girlie inside then,” Ghoul said, “don’t need her out here.”
Ghoul was straining to try and hear what Jet Star claimed he could hear, but it was to no avail; the world was silent other than the muffled voices of Jet and The Girl a few yards away. Fun Ghoul’s hearing wasn’t great anymore, the result of a few too many mistimed bombs over the years. It didn’t take long for Ghoul to give up and instead went over to help move The Girl inside, much to her protests.
She was too young to understand, but Star and Ghoul both knew they didn’t want to risk having The Girl outside during any sort of exchange. Just because the Zones knew she was with them didn't mean she needed to be out in the open during a client meeting that could go downhill fast. Especially when a larger number of killjoys in the area would attract more attention from the city.
***
The windows of the Trans Am were down, letting the wind rip through the car, Mad Gear’s latest tape was blasting on the radio, and under any normal circumstances, Party Poison would have felt completely free and oblivious to the reality they lived in. But today as Party Poison raced through the desert, their mind was a jumbled mess of wondering what the hell was about to happen at this exchange that they were definitely running late to. They weren’t overly anxious, but the thought of going into an exchange with someone they had never met at a house in the middle of the desert that no one seemed to know about wasn’t exactly calming.
About a week ago, the siblings were poking around a junkyard in Zone 6 that seemed to be almost completely untouched based on the amount of useful parts that were still strewn about (well, before Party had taken them as trading leverage that is). Kobra had almost immediately found an old BLI motorbike, and he had looked so excited that Party wasn’t about to tell him that they couldn’t bring it home. Kobes didn’t get excited much, and Party hadn’t seen him like that since the two had gone to see Mad Gear in concert over a year ago.
So now the siblings were the proud owners of a BLI bike that didn’t have a battery pack, and honest to the Witch probably didn’t work at all. But they couldn’t know that until they got a battery, so Party pretended that the bike was in full working condition until proven wrong and hoped this wasn’t going to be a waste of carbons. The fact that the bike even ran on a battery pack was a miracle in itself, meaning this model had to have been more recently abandoned, but it seemed stable, and the rusted bits were going to be easy to paint over.
So the two had scoured the markets for the next couple of days, looking everywhere for batteries powerful enough to power the bike that weren’t already rotting and decayed. Party hadn’t expected it to be easy, but apparently, they needed to buy batteries more often because no one seemed to have anything stronger than something small in working condition. The only luck they had during the mission was a recurring name being told to them - Fun Ghoul.
It was a name that Party had heard before, hell, everyone in the Zones had at some point. If some of the stories being passed around were true, there was a good chance that the name “Fun Ghoul” had even made its way back to Battery City. The possibility of the City being involved at all was enough to make Party want to scrap the bike and give up, but Kobra had refused to talk to Party until they gave in (exactly 37 minutes later) and told him to get ahold of Dr. D. If anyone knew how to contact someone that seemed to want to stay out of the public’s eye, it was Dr. Death-Defying.
Getting Fun Ghoul to agree to the deal was not as easy as Party Poison was expecting it to be. They were offering more money than the siblings really could afford to spend, and yet their offer was still refused due to the fact that they were originally from Battery City. It took a lot of back-and-forth, a few speeches for Dr. D to pass along about how it would be great for Kobra to get to meet someone else like him, and upping the payment a bit more to finally get Fun Ghoul to agree. Party wasn’t really sure why Fun Ghoul had such a strong distaste for anyone from the city, especially considering that it was clear to everyone else in the Zones that Party Poison and Kobra Kid hated Battery City just as much - if not more - than everyone else.
But also, that didn’t mean everyone in the Zones necessarily liked Fun Ghoul just because he’d work with them. In fact, it seemed like he had quite a few people who would hate him if his trade wasn’t so valuable. He was the only one in the Zones who could make batteries act like brand new for a reasonable price. Add in the fact that he was also a top-tier bomb maker, and he was suddenly a necessity to everyone. Everyone but the former city-kids, who he refused to do business with, apparently.
The most common rumors that Party had heard were that Fun Ghoul was relatively cold-hearted, not caring for anyone except his basically-sibling Jet Star and The Girl that they had been raising for a few years. A few people, including Dr. D, said it was all fake, and Ghoul was actually one of the sweetest people they knew, and that it was all an act to keep himself safe. Party couldn’t really blame him for that one; they knew firsthand what it was like to have to fake it. That didn’t mean they were going to treat him any differently than anyone else, though. Multiple people can keep a facade.
As for Jet Star, Fun Ghoul’s companion, the word on the street was that he was the best shot in all of the Zones, made even more impressive by the fact that he had had only one good eye. He was apparently much kinder than Fun Ghoul and typically did all the talking in markets, so the other killjoys tended to like him better, and some even considered him a friend. Party Poison wondered how two such opposite people could end up being so close.
And then there was also the matter of The Girl, who apparently lived with Ghoul and Jet Star. There had been whispers for years that The Girl was something else, and that she had shown up around the same time as Party and Kobra did, but that seemed to be all they knew. Party wasn’t sure that there really was much else to know about a five-year-old anyway, and wasn’t particularly interested in poking their nose in the business of a young child.
“Pois’,” Kobra said, breaking them out of their thoughts, “This shack up here is the stop.”
“Well,” Party said, pulling the car onto the road that ran towards the tiny shack that was rapidly coming into view, “Let’s hope that we can get in and out quickly.”
“Wait-” Kobra said, “Should we wear our masks?”
“Well, shit, we better show them we’re the real deal if they don’t think we’re actual killjoys,” Party said as he pulled up the mask dangling around his neck.
Kobra flashed a grin at them, quickly dropping it and regaining his serious composure as the two pulled up to the shack. Both siblings had a role to play when they were in public, and this time was no different.
***
As the siblings’ car pulled into view on the horizon, Fun Ghoul pulled the black bandana hanging around his neck up to cover the lower half of his face. He had a typical mask like Jet Star was wearing that he layered on top of the bandana when going out in public, but it was too much of a hassle to wear both during client meetings. The only time the bandana came off was during fights when it would get in the way, or when it was just Fun Ghoul’s close friends around. In the few rare times Ghoul hadn’t covered up in public, too many people had asked about the scar covering half of his face, and it wasn’t a fond memory that Ghoul wanted to talk about every time he went out.
People really weren’t exaggerating when they said the siblings liked to arrive in style, Ghoul thought as he watched the car arrive.
There was no ignoring the brightly painted Trans Am that had just pulled up in front of the home with the music so loud you could hear it with their windows closed. With a glance over at Jet Star, the two boys began walking towards the car at the same time the siblings exited it. Fun Ghoul couldn’t make out their faces or if they were saying anything yet, but did take note that they also had their masks on.
As he drew closer, the first thing Fun Ghoul noticed about Party Poison was that their bright red hair was blinding in the sunlight, and the pieces falling out of their ponytail were a huge contrast to their yellow mask and bright blue leather jacket. The second thing he noticed was the aura of arrogance coming from them, as if it was simply radiating off them. Anyone could tell that Party Poison thought they were the best in the desert at this moment, and Fun Ghoul didn’t like it one bit. They weren’t going to come near Fun Ghoul’s home and act like they owned the place.
Despite (or maybe because of) Party’s aura at the moment, Fun Ghoul found Kobra Kid to be the actually intimidating sibling out of the pair. There was nothing artificial about him to make him seem that way; his hair was just bleached blonde from the sun, and he had a relatively simple red mask to match his jacket. And it definitely wasn’t the fact that he was a half-foot taller than Fun Ghoul. It was just the unsettling feeling of not being able to read what was going on in Kobra Kid’s head that made him seem like the bigger threat.
“Party Poison and Kobra Kid, I assume?” Jet asked as the two groups reached each other. He was normally the one to speak during any exchange, since most of the time it was in markets where the background noise made it hard for Fun Ghoul to separate out who was speaking to him.
“Jet Star,” Party Poison responded, flashing a nothing-but-fake smile that made Fun Ghoul’s stomach turn, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Kobra Kid didn’t say anything and gave a nod of acknowledgement towards the fact he had been spoken to, which Ghoul honestly preferred over the fakeness in Party’s response. Fun Ghoul couldn’t help but notice that his eyes lingered on Jet Star, even as Party Poison turned the attention over to Ghoul. Fun Ghoul wasn’t sure what to make of the small action since it didn’t seem threatening, but at the same time Fun Ghoul didn’t know what Kobra’s version of threatening was.
“And you’re Fun Ghoul?” Party Poison said, coming a bit closer to him, “I gotta say I’m thankful you’re doing business with us.”
“Gotta keep food on the table somehow,” Ghoul said, bristling at the falsely positive tone that tinged Party Poison’s voice. “You’re lucky I’m broke, cause you’re late.”
For a moment, Ghoul noticed the smile on Party’s face drop to a scowl, and by the time he blinked it was right back up to being sickeningly friendly. It gave Ghoul a lot more pride than he should admit to be able to get on the nerves of Party Poison, while they couldn’t do anything about it.
“It’s pretty obvious that you don’t want us here, Fun Ghoul,” Party Poison said, laughing lightly. “Just give us the battery, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Do you have the money?” Jet interjected before Ghoul could make a comment about how this was his deal and things would be running on his time if he wanted them to. Or do something even more stupid.
“Of course, we have the money; we aren’t here to rob you both,” Party scoffed.
“You might be,” Ghoul grumbled, and Party shot him a look. He knew he was being rude, but he was hot and tired from sitting in the sun all day, and he didn’t like Party’s attitude. Ghoul simply raised his voice a bit more as he continued, “All I’ve heard is that y’all are trouble, so why would I think you might not scam us?”
“Excuse me?” Party said, visibly taken aback by just how fast Ghoul’s mood had turned, “It’s not like anyone’s out there saying good things about you, either, just that they have to be friendly even when you’re an asshole because otherwise they’d be fucked without you. Not exactly a great reputation if you ask me.”
Ghoul had never been one to have a great hold on his temper (something that Jet constantly lectured him about back when he would get in fights every other week). And, well, Party was already on thin ice before he ever showed up, and he’d already proven himself to be an asshole. Before Ghoul even knew what he was doing, he had pulled Party Poison down to his own eye-level, since Party was a good few inches taller, by grabbing the front of their leather jacket and holding on tight.
“I think you should have some fuckin’ respect if you want this battery,” Ghoul stated all too calmly, “or you can get the fuck out of my place.”
Fun Ghoul may not have been the tallest, but he sure as hell wasn’t weak. If he hadn’t been so in need of the money, he would’ve kept holding onto Party until the face with the pretty hazel eyes behind their mask dropped the facade and showed their true colors. But before Party Poison could even respond, Fun Ghoul had shoved them away, hard, causing them to fall to the ground (a sight that Ghoul would look back at and laugh about).
Party was stuttering something to themself as they recovered from being knocked on their ass, and suddenly there was a raygun pointed directly at Fun Ghoul’s face. It wasn’t overly threatening, since this wasn’t the first time Ghoul had had a gun pointed at him, so he simply responded by grabbing his own and aiming it right back. Ghoul wasn’t about to step down from a fight over the chance of getting burned, though neither of them seemed willing to take a shot at the other.
In fact, instead of Party or Ghoul pulling the trigger, a beam shot directly through the dead space between the two of them, causing both of their heads to snap over to where it came from. Jet Star stood a few meters closer to the house with his gun drawn. He looked nothing short of unamused with the situation at hand, and a very pissed-off-looking Kobra Kid stood next to him holding the battery that was the cause of the siblings being here in the first place.
“Can you two knock it off?” Jet shouted, “While you two were too busy fighting like children, we already got the exchange over with.”
Ghoul glanced back at Party one last time, debating how much it would be worth to punch them in the face, before giving up and holstering his gun. It took Party a moment longer than Ghoul would have liked them to wait before they put theirs away as well.
“Thanks for doing business,” Jet said, outstretching an arm in a sweeping motion meant to get the siblings moving on their way, “Hopefully that battery works, and we never have to see you two again.”
“I can say the same to you,” Party said dryly, and with Kobra giving a short nod, the two siblings began the walk back to their Trans Am.
Ghoul watched them go until they were nothing more than a speck on the horizon.
***
“What the fuck was that about?” Kobra demanded the moment the shack was behind them and out of sight. “You tried to shoot the only person we know who has access to fucking bombs and working batteries!”
“He got in my fucking face first!” Party spat back, “You didn’t even try to do anything about it!”
“'Cause I was more worried about getting out of there before one of y’all started shooting!” Kobra said, turning his back to Party to very pointedly huff and look out the window.
Party just rolled his eyes and turned the radio up another few notches. Their own damn brother couldn’t even bother being on his side right now. Even if they had overreacted back there, it would’ve been nice to have some support.
But as they neared the diner, Party’s anger subsided, and a feeling of shame began to take its place.
“Hey, Kobra,” Party said, and when no response came, they continued, “I’m sorry…I should’ve watched my temper. I’m glad you and Jet Star figured out how to do the deal.”
“Well, one of us had to get the job over with,” Kobra said dryly, then softening as he added, “They’re not wrong when they say Jet Star’s the nice one.”
Party rolled their eyes and laughed, “Don’t be getting soft for Jet Star, now, Kobes. I don’t think either of us ever wanna see each other again.”
“I would never!” Kobra exclaimed indignantly, “I’d rather hug a cactus than have to go back to that place.”
Party hummed in agreement, turning their attention back to the road in front of them and replaying the events of the day in their head.
It had surprised Party just how young Jet Star seemed to be; there was no way he was anything over a few months older than Party was. The stories that followed the two killjoys’ reputation didn’t seem like they could be done by anyone young, if the stories were even true. Party almost wished they had gotten a chance to talk more, maybe ask about the time the two of them had taken out a C/R/O/W unit all alone. But between their own fuck-up of not keeping themself in their place and Fun Ghoul’s outburst, there really was no chance that would ever happen in the future, which was a bit disheartening.
And as for Fun Ghoul, Party couldn’t even begin to place an age on him. He surely couldn't have been much older than Kobra was because his voice sounded young, but the way he carried himself was like that of a much, much older killjoy. It didn’t help that half his face had been covered by a bandana, that he didn’t pull down even when he was threatening Party. All they had to go off of was the fact he had absolutely stunning green eyes that, under any other circumstance, Party probably could’ve stared at for a while. But getting threatened and then knocked to the ground by someone a few inches shorter than them in front of their brother really took any sort of attraction out of the whole ordeal.
But, yet, that didn’t stop Party’s thoughts from wandering back to those eyes that night as they lay in bed and their thoughts of wondering just who it really was under that bandana.
***
The desert skies were clear tonight, and Kobra could see every star as he lay on the roof keeping watch. Sure, he wasn’t necessarily keeping the keenest eye out for any BLI attacks, but he would be able to hear the engines of anyone approaching long before he saw them with how quiet and dark the nights were out here. It hadn’t taken long for Kobra to fall in love with the desert after escaping Battery City; the constant hum of the city could never beat the peaceful silence of the desert.
But the silence of the desert could also be lonely, especially when you were doing late-night watches by yourself every night. He and Party had never really had anyone else, whether the killjoys distrusted them for being from Battery City or because they didn’t trust the other killjoys. They didn’t even have the other killjoys who’d escaped from the City to rely on, because most of them still weren’t open-minded about some “morals” that Better Living Industries had tried to ingrain into their beliefs. And, well, if it was loneliness or being surrounded by a few familiar faces that Kobra, who insisted on calling him a “she” and Party a “him,” then Kobra and Party were going to take the former.
The desert killjoys may mostly hate them for drawing too much city attention, but at least most of them had the sense to respect pronouns. Over time, Kobra had met a few others like him who had helped him find a proper way to bind and taught him how to be safe with it, which was more than Kobra could ever repay them for. Most of them couldn’t stick around long, and Kobra couldn't blame them. Once the siblings’ reputations began to grow and the City started putting out wanted posters, no one was in the market to be friends with the siblings. Or at least that’s what Kobra thought before he had made the trip to go get a battery for his new bike.
Kobra honestly had no idea what to expect going into the exchange. He hadn’t heard much about the two since he didn’t do much talking, but he had heard the rumors about Fun Ghoul being cold and hard to deal with. As well as some things being passed around, similar to what he had heard about himself that frankly pissed him off. Kobra had heard people say Jet Star was definitely the nice one, and an amazing shot, and basically everyone’s dream killjoy if they could ever get him away from Fun Ghoul. Kobra couldn’t help but think that people weren’t really kidding about that last part.
It was obvious from the moment the siblings left the car that Party and Fun Ghoul were going to have a problem. It was mainly Party’s fault, thinking they could walk in like they owned the place (Party may have been Kobra’s sibling, but even he knew how to admit when they were in the wrong). And as expected, the two had almost instantly gotten into it.
Jet Star had greeted them with kindness, albeit with obvious restraint in his voice, probably due to the fact that he didn’t really trust the two of them. But the kindness was there, and his smile was sincere enough to make Kobra stare a bit longer than he probably should have. Jet really did have a winning smile.
So while Party and Ghoul were having their little standoff, and Kobra hoped no one was dumb enough to pull the trigger, Jet Star had simply carried out the transaction, walking him back over to the shack to grab the battery, and acting like nothing was going on. Kobra had to admit that it was pretty impressive just how easy Jet ignored the situation at hand, and wondered if it happened frequently. It would make sense for someone who enjoyed making bombs to have just as short a fuse as their craft.
“Just one more thing,” Jet had said, quieting his voice and pausing to shoot his raygun between the two, having a standoff (which was incredibly attractive and Kobra was never going to admit that for the sake of his sibling not killing him), “you should tune to 106.1 sometime. I’m on watch every night between midnight and four.”
It had taken Kobra completely by shock, and once he had gotten his complaints about how Party acted out of his system, it seemed to be all that Kobra could think about for the rest of the night. Which would be why Kobra was now sitting on the roof of the diner at one in the morning, fiddling with the transmitter as if it held the answers of what he should do. On one hand, Party would kill Kobra if they found out he was talking to the people that they had sworn to never interact with again. But, Kobra also really, really would love to have someone else to talk to, and the thought of getting to talk to Jet Star again was worth risking meeting the Witch.
So Kobra took the bait and turned the transmitter to the number 106.1 like he had been told, and pressed down the button.
“Anyone there?”
For a moment, there was nothing but static, and Kobra’s heart began to sink. Had he forgotten the number? Or maybe Jet Star didn’t mean it? Or, even worse, maybe Fun Ghoul had been on watch instead.
“Fuckin’ hell, you scared me,” a voice - Jet Star’s - said suddenly across the line, conveniently scaring Kobra as well. “I didn’t think you were gonna take up the offer.”
“Well, it's boring out here,” Kobra said, “I need to talk to someone.”
“Who knew you two could ever get bored?” Jet’s tone was sarcastic, “From all the stories I hear, it seems like y’all never stop goin’.”
“I could say the same for you and Ghoul; apparently, you two are working on some secret plan.”
Jet’s laughter rang out through the line, and it brought a smile to Kobra’s face. It wasn’t often that he could make someone other than Party laugh like that.
“Well then, I suppose we should start explaining who we actually are,” Jet said, after a few moments of seemingly composing himself, “I’d like to get to know who this mysterious Kobra Kid I’ve heard of really is.”