Chapter Text
Bundus should really consider smoking again.
Don’t get him wrong, he knows that it would heighten the chances of his body getting worse, internally wise. He’s in his 40’s and that kind of reckless decision making would carry a heavy burden for his future self and he’s not willing to risk it.
But by god was this job doing things to him. He’s not sure how long he can put up with his boss’s weird habits of eating bugs off the ground and his obsession with stealing jinki’s that relate to articles of clothing, or the young girl refusing to acknowledge his inquiries on small talk, or the small boy that used to keep whimpering around the corners of the abandoned building they met in.
That’s another thing he should note. For documentary’s sake.
The building is old, dusty, filled to the brim with rubble and crumbling pillars that are on the verge of falling in spite of its ability to carry the numerous cages that are hung from the ceiling who are carrying who knows what. It’s cramped. Considering the lack of areas for everyone to sit, leaving no choice for anyone left in the team to stand or simply sit on the floor.
He can see the appeal in choosing such a location, though. It diminishes suspicion to those trying tracking their whereabouts. Its only laughable trait is the sad attempt of making the place feel homely, though he’s not sure if that was truly the intent. The randomly scattered bookshelves with anonymous contents and a small tv opposite to a boulder enough for one to sit on—his boss is the only assigned person allowed to sit there.
Sad to say, this job was a high risk, low reward kind of job. The only good thing being Zodyl’s questionable connections. It would help him personally for specific information. Other than that, he doesn’t think he’d join on his own will anytime soon.
He could list a few more reasons why he should pursue nicotine intake instead of violent release based on his current employment.
The dark room—save for the small light that illuminated from the tv Zodyl was staring intently at—filled with a deep mix of blues and yellows. It meant one option, that being Cthoni’s arrival, be it alone or with a companion.
Yet one stands above all. One thing he really can’t get used to no matter how many times he’s tried to reason with himself to tolerate.
A high pitched squeal followed by a variety of nonsensical wild garbles was heard. The shorter woman sighed and threw him down to lean on one of the boulders in the building.
That one member that borderlines permanent psychotic break and drug toxin addicted freak, or maybe both at once, he can’t determine on a singularity.
“He couldn’t pick up. Tested a new toxin again, a mild one I think. He’s acting a lot more sane than usual”
“Let’s wait it out.”
“Okay.”
Jabber Wonger was something straight out of a horror show. A jinki named after its horrendous purpose, a strange obsession with injecting himself with his own experiments that could potentially kill him but has built enough tolerance to survive it, ungroomed hair that smelled not far from the trash they walked on, and a prodigy that seeks challenges so unsightly like that his opponents feel undermined or cower under him, and is the reason why he joined in the first place.
He can’t count the amount of times that the boy has approached him in search of a fight. He saw Bundus as someone that might be a good fight, someone who could stand longer under his poisons than the regular person. At some point, when he first joined, he actually had a small spar with him, only to flinch back when one of his arms pinned him down and the boy let out a moan, of all things.
Safe to say he refused any invitations afterwards.
_____
Once Jabber settled down and regained some semblance of normality, Zodyl finally stood up and faced the sad looking team with tired looking eyes and an insane poker face.
“It has come to my attention that our team has reduced in size. After Noerde’s unfortunate loss and another who we can’t seem to locate. It’s time that we had more recruits.”
The room was characteristically silent. Usually when this conversation came up, there would be some kind of recommendation by their head. But this time, it looked like he was genuinely looking for suggestions.
Bundus was flattered. In the back of his mind, there was one person he could think of when he thought of potential team mates.
He was charming, polite, and could hold a small talk long enough to be considered a full blown conversation. He guessed that the boy didn’t know who he was considering how willing he was to help him despite his status as a cleaner. But if they coerced him well enough they could maybe have a chance on recruiting him. It would be such a nice change of pace!
Zodyl won’t mind. If he buttered the man up with enough promises of a strong jinki user with inside information on the cleaners, and knowledgeable background, then he won’t question his current status as a cleaner and how he’s probably loyal to a fault.
He chose his next words carefully. Picking out the key words that would entice the bug-mouthed man to consider his recommendation. He nodded to himself and was prepared to raise his hand, mostly out of politeness, but someone beat him to it.
“Zanka would make a good candidate.”
With wide eyes, Bundus narrowed down the members to see who spoke up. To his surprise, Cthoni was leaning on one of the pillars, arms crossed, face indifferent and eyes staring directly at Zodyl. Her lack of gestures wasn’t shocking, but the thing that caught him off guard was her suggestion. Only because he was supposed to recommend Zanka.
Momao raised her head despite having headphones stuck to it, Jabber tilted his head confusingly, not unlike a manic cat, and Zodyl raised a brow.
“From what I know of the boy, I’m certain he is with the cleaners, Cthoni.”
“Yes.”
“So why recommend an unlikely one?”
“He simply fits the characteristics we look for in members, and I believe we have enough resources to force him to change forces.”
The man opened his mouth to reply but was promptly interrupted by Jabber.
“Who’s that?”
“Blond hair, blue earrings, and a staff jinki. You like to fight him a lot.” Cthoni, ever so patient with the boy, replied dryly.
It took a few seconds for Jabber to scavenge through his memories to remember who it was, until his face lit up with recognition and his mouth made an unsettling expression with his smile reaching both sides of his face in a large grin.
“Ya mean Mr. Bad Attitude?” He walked closer to the shorter woman and draped his arm over her shoulders and pressed his cheek closer to hers, as if forced proximity would enhance the chances of confirmation. “My Zan-Zan?”
“I believe so.”
“Cool.”
Bundus was then reminded of the many times that Jabber, after that one eventful fight, kept talking about how good of a fight he gave him and always claimed him as first choice whenever they fought with the cleaners. With the amusement of any middle aged man of his standing, he let out a low chuckle.
“Beat me to it.”
The three looked at him with the same confusion he had with Cthoni. Probably confused with his association with him. That was until another voice was heard, and it wasn’t from any of the usual. This time, from Momoa.
“You know him too?”