The leviathan was coiled up in front of her apartment, the tip of her snout pressed against the bottom of the door. The paneling all around the frame and even about the door handle had been scuffed and lightly clawed at; Elijah had probably tried to force her way in as gently as possible, which, as she was a giant-ass defense-bot, wasn't very gentle at all.
A faint, upset whine echoed to Dapper's audio-receptors from the serpent, and one long antennae lifted slightly as her footsteps carried her closer.
Fawkes called the number Ellijah left months ago, hoping to get voice mail. Hopes being met with the message played. "Yea, this is Fawkes, Dapper's boyfriend. Wanted to let you know she's awake an moving." He quickly hung up.
Tipsy kept the receiver pressed to the side of her head, against her audio receptor, staring at the wood paneling and tapping the eraser-end of a pencil rapidly against a notepad.
… She should tell Elijah. Immediately. She would want to know.
… But when Elijah left, she came back late. Every time. Tipsy couldn’t blame her for wanting to socialize; her upbringing had been strange even by automaton standards. But that same energy invoked an increased generosity in their patrons— better tips.
Tips that Elijah had always happily split with her employer.
Tips that were suddenly a lot more important for the bar’s survival.
Drabble prompt: Phobia (if you could work in finding out 420 is offline, that'd be epic and you'd get cake)
((Well I do so love cake...I will make an attempt.
Under the cut, because I lost the definition of drabble long ago.))
Refueled was becoming the regular spot for their meet ups, whether through coincidence meeting or on planned. It was quiet, empty, and Jolt could play around with fancy drinks for 420. It was the colorful ones he liked the most, though 420 seemed fond of her vodka martinis. The name of which still irked him, since it wasn't technically a martini at all.
He kept to his water as they talked over their drinks.
"I worry if I tried gasoline it might hurt one of the customers. What I drink goes to my boiler either way, and then it's taken from where it's already hot in there to the mechanism that makes drinks. And besides potentially poisoning people, I guess I'm scared of what might happen if I did get really drunk, you know?"
"Hm." She watched the olive swirl around in her own drink. "Migh' make a cute drunk though, depending on 'ow tipsy you get."
"I guess. I got magicked drunk by an anon once. I get very...affectionate as it turns out. I think I flirted with literally everyone I spoke to." There was an amused snort from 420. "Yeah, yeah, you laugh now. Only problem was I found someone who was just as interested- I'm fairly certain he would have taken me home with him if we'd actually have been able to do anything of that particular nature. Jack was the same way. Funny though, I don't think I've ever seen him drink."
She shrugged. Everybody had their reasons. Jack seemed level-headed enough, but it wasn't too difficult to picture him as one to get angry while under the influence. 420 took note of his thoughtful expression and raised an eyebrow. "Don' think tha's meant to be a challenge, Sparkplug."
"Huh?" He looked confused before waving the suggestion away. "Oh, no, no. I've got no plans to try and get him to do it. If he wanted to, he's got friends who'd be more than happy to drink with him. I don't think I'd want to stick around honestly."
"Is he tha' bad? Thought you said you 'adn't seen him drink before."
"No! Nothing like that. It's just... alcohol changes how people act. It's a little scary, actually. I've seen it often enough with some of our more rowdy customers, but...Eric used to drink sometimes. Depended on why he was drinking how he got. If he was angry he'd go on a rampage, if he was sad he'd become distraught, if he was happy he'd be open and friendly. Usually he was happy when he started drinking. I think that was the strangest, it was a lot of change. I'd usually stick near him to take care of him and make sure he didn't hurt himself. But when he was happy...he'd call me over to sit with him and we'd talk, and he'd smile a lot and joke with me and everything. We actually had a pretty good time together, those nights. Kind of nostalgic from when he was younger."
She was quiet as he spoke, thinking back to her own history with Opal. How they'd been close companions for the few years before she'd become 'Agent 420'. The thought of the woman still invoked a simmering and bitter anger in her. But she didn't let it show on the surface, only nodding and finishing off her drink calmly. She could understand missing the good times, though she wagered she had a fair bit more animosity towards Opal than Jolt seemed to harbor for Eric.
Jolt picked up her glass and stepped back to the counter. They were in the kitchen today, after having enough customers try to enter in the past (despite the sign clearly saying they were closed). He started about making another drink, but she stopped him before he'd even grabbed the mixing glass.
"I've gotta leave soon, only stopped by 'cause I saw you in here. Thought It'd be nice to chat for a bit, but there's somewhere I got to be." 420 shrugged her coat back on and adjusted her gloves.
"Always busy. That's life though I suppose." He opened his mouth again as if to continue, but it clicked shut and he carried on putting the bottles away. Odd, but if he had something to say she knew he'd spill soon enough.
And like clockwork, "I've got a question, if you don't mind me asking. But it's kinda...I mean you don't have to answer or anything if you don't want to. Obviously."
"Mhm?" She kept her tone nonchalant, though he seemed tense.
"The night you helped me out- the first I mean, when you lent me your vest which I promise I will actually return to you at some point- you said something before you left to go and talk to Eric. That just because he's family doesn't mean he should hurt me, and that you'd rather die again than see that sort of thing happen to someone else. Did you know someone or did you...?"
The question took her off guard. She'd been expecting something to do with the more recent past. More about the photos, maybe. Opal again, and Jolt must have seen the flash of upset in 420's eyes because he quickly looked away and busied himself with tidying up the kitchen. With a sigh she rose from her chair. The only thing that would come out of that discussion was anger, depression, and worry.
"Long story, Sparkplug." She adjusted her jacket and gave herself a once-over. 'Not today.' Some of the tension left his form and he smiled again.
"Well, if you ever feel like telling it, you know where I am." He flipped the martini glass upside down to dry. "And I'll likely have new drinks for you to try if you're feeling up to it. I've been experimenting with green."
---
It was a few weeks later he'd sent her a text. He hoped she wasn't avoiding him because of their last conversation, he hadn't meant to chase her off. He got no answer, and the next day he tried a call. Straight to voicemail. Checking the number, he tried it again. Same thing.
Jolt hopped in the car and headed for the garage. It reminded him too much of what had happened with Turns, and he was scared he might arrive too late. Normally he wouldn't arrive without warning, but he doubted she'd be too upset with him for worrying. Wasn't the vest in the backseat? He might be able to pretend he'd been near town and wanted to return it to her...
Not that it really mattered. He pulled up and hurried to the garage door, knocking loudly and waiting impatiently for an answer. He recognized the man at the door from the last time he'd been there, Dapper's boyfriend, wasn't it?
"Hey, sorry to show up unannounced, but Dapper hasn't answered her phone in a couple days and I was worried. Is she in?"
He was numb as he was filled in on the details. In all honesty he expected to wake up any time now. Nightmares of friends dying weren't anything new, and he certainly wasn't a stranger to ones of Dapper and 420 dying. It was only a matter of time before he'd wake up panicked but safe at home. And 420 and Dapper would be safe in their home too, alive and well.
It was quickly made clear that he was awake and this was a real thing that was happening. He'd heard what he needed and made a fast exit. He told himself that it wasn't permanent and that it could be fixed, but he never believed himself when he did that. Jack was onto him soon as he got home. Jolt explained what he could remember the man telling him and tried not to break down in front of him.
Crossing his arms across his chest, Hansen sighed as he leaned against his car. Maybe giving these two a bit more info would make them cooperative. "You saw the photos and papers. Half of those were sanctioned kills, signed off by Dr. Eric Turns."
Jolt looked over to his brother, not quite following. He didn't return it though, keeping his eyes on Hanson. "A relative of his. And he's only looking into it now because...?" Surely the FBI had better things for them to be doing.
"Like I said, no need for you to be interested. Turns may be a brat sometimes, but he's a good man. This case is just a bit personal for him."
Jack interceded before Jolt could agree with the 'brat' comment. "Personal how? The file had dates from as far back as the 50s. He looks a bit young to be pushing seventy."
((So since Tumblr's pitching a fit and wont let me publish my reply to Dapper))
Pulling himself out of the car, Hansen gave an irritated sigh of his own as Jolt leaned against the car. "Lookin' for him right now actually, no need for you to be so interested."
"I'm just curious, I don't particularly care where he is." He shrugged. "But you said you're looking for him? What, did he run off or something? That's a little worrying, he doesn't look like the type that should be alone. He probably would've ripped my head off earlier if you hadn't been there."
