But Queen Laurelite had been crystal clear in the emergency message she’d sent out to the tablets: quotas had been adjusted because people needed to instead prepare for some kind of situation involving, like, aliens or something? Different aliens besides the ones normally involved with White Moon stuff? All the updates to the database from senior officers had indicated, actually, that some degree of working with White Moon people was necessary right now because all the weird purple lightning storms were signs of something heinously destructive.
But Queen Laurelite’s message had also been clear about avoiding unnecessary fraternization. Very fine balance to negotiate, and Nekoite wasn’t entirely certain how, beyond following whatever leads or hints he could get from Arsenolite and Ashanite. He didn’t want to nag them too much, though. Nobody could do the actual work of getting good for him. That was something he had to do for himself.
Most of tonight’s patrol, he’d spent trying to stay relatively out of sight. Metal Gear Solid and Assassin’s Creed weren’t his favorite games ever, but sneaking around the streets of Destiny City, stealing energy where he could, Nekoite had still imagined himself as someone like Ezio Auditore or Solid Snake. Every time he’d clambered up a fire escape, trying to be as quiet as possible, he’d let the Snake Eater theme play in his head. It had just felt right.
The energy he’d managed to gather felt like a good little orb to take back to Negaspace when he could find somebody higher-ranking to give him a lift. Still, Nekoite wanted to practice something else, to make the night feel like less of a total wash. Right as he was debating putting out a “Can someone please take me to Negaspace? Thanks muchly!” message on the tablets, an opportunity presented itself. Down in the alley beside the flower shop roof where Nekoite stood, some big, burly guy lit up a cigarette. Well, if he was gonna treat his lungs that way, he didn’t really need his starseed, did he?
Thinking about all the hours he’d logged in Dark Souls and how many hundreds of times he’d beaten the Asylum Demon, Nekoite vaulted off the roof. Landing on the burly dude didn’t go nearly as well as planned. Nekoite hit his shoulders, but failed to knock him down. Wound up awkwardly sitting there, with his skirt caught on the civilian’s head, and flailing to stay on as the guy tried to throw him off.
But with one arm clenched around the guy’s neck, Nekoite managed to plunge his hand into the dude’s chest. There we go, he thought, curling his hand around the starseed. That’s the ticket.
MiddyGlow
