Despite the absence of any fixed schedule in his life, certain days could at least ensure that Kay would not be home until after dark. Green tag days and half price weekends were reliably “all hands on deck” situations at work, and were the closest thing he had to structure.
There was no green tag day this week, nor would there be any half price weekend. The unexpected collapse of a waterlogged ceiling had the New Lease building firmly out of commission for at least a week and a half, and although by some miracle Kay was getting a paycheck anyway, he had been feeling the want of both routine and human interaction. Even Elaine had forsaken him, not calling on him for any frivolous late night errand which might yield the pleasure of 7-Eleven nachos and gently torturing himself with Todd's company for her entertainment.
So it was that Kay was arriving home at an unexpected hour - not from work, but from an aborted attempt to brave the heat long enough to take a walk - and so it was that he was across the street when he saw his own door nudged closed. A moment of panic surged through him before he remembered what he had, between one thing and another, forgotten: that he knew good and damn well that he had a home intruder and exactly who it was, because he'd seen his own pilfered sign collection in the background of a badly lit video narrated by -
That damn ******** cat, he thought to himself. Creedence, according to Connections.
(A niggling thought: where had he heard that name lately? But quickly shunted aside in favor of more pressing concerns.)
The neighborhood kids, favored to live in apartments with actual bedrooms in the rundown complex that flanked his own parking lot, had abandoned their summer warfare armory on the sidewalk with a coil of hose, ripe for the taking while they retreated under a truce called for sandwiches and juice in the AC. A very brief stop to arm himself, then, as one must against a cat.
The moment between his key touching the lock and the stream of water shot at her was very short, and he was closing the door with his foot even as he aimed, partly to trap her and partly to keep Ari from making a break for it, as she'd been increasingly trying to do.
“Trespassers shot on sight,” he said, somewhat deliriously.
Posted: Wed Sep 09, 2026 10:08 am
She'd been in the middle of the room deciding whether to rearrange McLoser's computer mice, raid his fridge, or put her butt on his pillow. A decision made all the harder by the squirming piece of needy fluff that was nudging at her with increasing bravery the longer she ignored it. And then the apartment was RAIDED.
The water had her jumping, yowling upward for several feet and screeching FUUUUCK all the way down. The star on her forehead briefly glowed before a fraction of sanity entered the room, and then she just threw what was closest to paw at the intruder. Which was, of course, the kitten.
There was a crowded moment, and somewhere in it the water gun landed on the floor and the kitten was safely retrieved. Probably an unnecessary scramble, given the indestructibility of cats at that age, but he was moving on pure paternal instinct.
"You broke into my house and threw a baby at me," he said, clutching the luckless missile to his chest with an accusatory look. For her part, Ari seemed only astonished into unusual silence, her eyes gone circular in bewilderment - whether that was from being launched or from Kay giving her what was almost a cuddle if you looked at it in the right light. Yay! Affection! "Who's a villain now?"
And then, even more accusingly: "Are you stalking me, you weirdo?"
Posted: Wed Sep 09, 2026 7:10 pm
"And I'd do it again!" Creedence announced, clearly not (yet) trying to beat the accusations.
With a grumble she started irately grooming herself before pausing, then jumping onto his bed to do it on his pillow. "loser with too much free time..." weh weh, "..knights aren't supposed to have guns.." erph murph,"...dishonor on your mouse..."
Flipping onto her back she began to aggressively wriggle, "I only stalk prey and ne-erdowells." Which wasn't a no. "That was so rude! Don't you know how like, valuable it is to have a Mauvian checking in on your well being? Super ungrateful."
He was so busy formulating a response to this that he forgot he was holding The Enemy, and therefore reacted to her joyous headbutting of his chin by nestling her close to him before realizing what he was doing. Disgust and horror derailed whatever comeback he'd been trying to make, and he put the kitten down on the end of the bed so that she could immediately begin harassing Creedence, as a kitten will when they see another cat grooming themselves.
"If it was an honor you'd have taken any excuse to rub my face in it and get my gratitude," he suggested accusingly, stooping to open his mini fridge and procure a Red Bull, which he opened as if it had personally offended him. He had no real basis to make that claim, but it felt right. "Probably more food at Botticelli's house, if garbage counts. What were you gonna steal instead?"
Posted: Wed Sep 09, 2026 9:26 pm
With the reintroduction of the Menace, Creedence flipped back over, denying the kitten her very soft and fluffy tummy. With one paw she pressed the little thing down, then moved it slightly from side to side. "I was like, biding my time, building it up it until your time of need."
Like maybe he'd gotten kidnapped or something. Maybe he'd get his starseed stolen, and she'd have to look around the coma wards and swear to Cosmos that Alekto Andromeda would avenge him. Nothing like a Fridge Knight to set senshi into action.
She almost accused him of occasionally having The Good Cheese, but caught it and began moving the kitten with both paws, rolling the dough now rather than making a half-assed biscuit. "I wasn't stealing," yet, "do you think you have anything to steal except stupid mice and this?" The contempt for the kitten, if not clear before, was dripping all over the place now as she casually bullied it like a fidget toy.
"What you should be asking yourself is what sort of technical marvel you should ask the technical genius cat you are lucky enough to associate with, for."
He hesitated. Was there, maybe, some sort of magical Faraday Cage that went directly into the ribs and which could repulse an agent's hand? Probably not. Even considering how utterly useless this side was at organizing mutual benefit, that kind of thing was too important to not be immediately shared to everyone possible.
He flopped down dramatically in the rickety old computer chair, flinging a leg over the duct-taped arm and giving her a dire look over his can. For her part Ari was ecstatically purring at this unexpected excess of attention, apparently unaware that she should be perceiving this as an insult.
"Like what?" He asked at last, skeptically. "Joy said you guys can map a Wonder and God knows mine is a ******** labyrinth, but if I don't - like - have anything better to do when I go there -" he left the thought unfinished. That was the magical Faraday cage, and he had already spent too much time languishing in stale bedsheets and considering the utter impossibility of loving the dismal ruin that was his Wonder and what that meant for any hope of future security against an ending that couldn't bear thinking about. "No point anyway," he said. "It's just a bunch of empty rooms."
He paused, absently turning the chair to and fro with his elbow against the edge of the desk, his eyes going unfocused. "I don't guess you can make me a car," he said at last, without even the sad little laugh to go with it. "Or abs, or ******** facial hair that doesn't look like - like - what's left in the drains after Bear Night at the bathhouse. Better think of something good or you're gonna miss the chance to gloat over me being grateful."
Posted: Wed Sep 09, 2026 11:17 pm
Before he received an answer, he was first subjected to a look of such profound pity and soft disgust that it was likely only his time with Elaine that dented its full effect. "I can fix up whatever car," and pause after assessing him in an even more dismissive manner, "...or little scooter you've got on hand. make it more fuel efficient, better radio reception, give it a little display signal if you run over youma or something."
Migh make unexpected late night speed bumps more, or less! Alarming. "And I guess I could make you some temporary muscle hunk illusion. Not the full Destiny City Glamour, that's like, a miniature god-level power. But I can help you fool people into thinking you're hot."
"I am hot," he said and it was only by virtue of being a very practiced liar that he sounded like he genuinely believed it - in much the same that Elaine, perhaps, believed it when she said it - and not like a petulant child. "I don't need abs to be hot, it'd just be a nice bonus."
He was required to do this by a second allegation of being a Scooter Guy having hit the World Maus Center. What was he to do about this? There were other five-foot-seven guys who did not give off Scooter Guy energy. Was it the clothes? It had to be the clothes, but this was a hard pill to swallow and so he instinctively rejected it. Maybe he should get a haircut. It was getting a little CW-ridiculous. Or he could -
He inwardly recoiled from the next suggestion his brain supplied. No. He had seen his own bare upper lip. Better to be believed a scooter guy than to go around the world with that devastating shortcoming just there in the middle of his face, to say nothing of the fact that without a mustache his eyebrows became, distressingly, the only part of his face that people could look at. At least he'd managed to pull focus in such a way that their attention normalized to somewhere around his eyes. Not that those were anything to write home about either.
Hadn't he thought he was cute, once? He could tell from some of the impulses he had, even if he couldn't remember. Good god, the twink death must have come in the form of a meat grinder. Or maybe he'd just had a charm and a charisma then that had been worn down by a decade of paranoia, or possibly used up by a decade of hedonism. Maybe -
All these thoughts ran through his head very rapidly, in the space of a second or two.
"How much can you fix a car?" he asked, still skeptically. "Like, you get under there one on of those rolly things with a wrench and bang on s**t til it passes emissions? Or are we talking getting a tin can moving again?"
Posted: Thu Sep 10, 2026 9:27 am
If only Creedence knew what was going on under that hood, she'd fall asleep smiling for a week. As it was, she rolled her eyes, rolled the kitten, and finally rolled out more details for the guy. "It'd be easier if I had hands, but I'm not at that upgrade, yet. So I'd have to have like, someone capable of some heavy labor, who can listen to instructions for some stuff. I won't do anything super cool that's obvious, though. Don't want the wrong eyes to notice. Some parts I can make, some you'll have to order, or at least get from a scrapyard."
Was she seriously offering? Actually, yeah. Nobody had asked for any cool gadgets and tech like, at all. Not that she'd ever offered, but they could at least ask. And wandering the city modifying unsuspecting vending machines, food trucks, and security cameras like...didn't really scratch that itch for more than a day or two.
Though his description...
"Have you ever fixed anything in like, your entire life?"
"Ask Botticelli next time you claw a hole in a shirt of his," he said. "But you don't talk to him, I guess. Lucky him. Never been more jealous of a man with trash bags in his bedroom."
He watched Ari make halfhearted attempts to attack Creedence's paws, his gaze going a little unfocused.
"You probably wouldn't consider it fixing anything," he conceded, without bitterness. "But I can't change a tire, if that's what you're asking. At least like... not without a lot of handholding. I'm good at having my hand held, though. You could pass that on to Sideris, if you ever decide to strike up a conversation with him." He did not give her an opportunity to immediately respond to this. "So if I call you up and drag you to the Pick-a-Part you'll help me out? It's probably, like... for the good of Order, or something."
Posted: Fri Sep 11, 2026 7:06 pm
"Oh, so you're a tool." Creedence didn't bother to make it sound anything other than fully insulting. "Well at least you know your like, limitations. And you aren't expecting me to pull a car out of subspace. So sure, I'll help you with that, and coach you through the rest."
Thinking it over, she did pull a few things out of subspace and placed them on the bed, one paw holding the kitten away from them. One was a keychain with a round charm, shaped like a cat's head. The others were roughly the size of an ipod case, a scuffed and unremarkable matte grey.
"In return, keep the keychain on you, and if you see a youma or agent on a patrol, try and place one of these somewhere secure nearby. It'll help collect intel on the enemy." Well, just general movement patterns in an area, but it was better than always throwing darts in the night and wondering if a patrol manages to actually hit something.
rejam
Mauvian Assessment Panel (M.A.P.) Transponders - These transponders come in two forms; the first are small mini computers that can be placed in discreet locations throughout the city to monitor locations. They are vulnerable to the elements and can be easily destroyed, requiring them to be replaced after a time. The second type of transponder is a portable keychain distributable to Order characters; this transponder can be used while powered up or in civilian form. Both transponders use a system, called Sniffer, to pick up known Chaos signatures within a one block radius and feed the information back to Orias' supercomputer M.A.P. system. These transponders cannot identify the specific Chaos character in the vicinity, but it can register their Faction and Rank. Anyone in possession of a transponder can access a miniature holographic blueprint of the city and identify potentially active areas on that map. In instances where major Chaos activity is being registered, the keychain transponders will alert the wearer of the location. These transponders cannot access the Mauvian Database at all; they also cannot directly access Orias' supercomputer beyond seeing the map of the city and where Chaos signatures have last triggered a transponder. The transponders are not unbreakable and may malfunction; this can cause blackouts in the radar. Transponders are automatically designed to reboot when they malfunction, however this can take some time and Chaos signatures may be missed during the process.
Created by Orias; blueprints for both types of transponders are available on the Mauvian Database. Anyone is permitted to create additional transponders to place around the city to help expand the map and replace broken or damaged transponders. Likewise, anyone can create a keychain to carry or share with other Order characters.
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