Saturday, my second day in a row without participating in a Curator mission. Dandelion light crawls through a small window where one of the basement walls meets the ceiling. Ever since I started sleeping on the basement couch, this house of horrors hasn't felt so bad. The main floor still needs work, but it's not my direct problem anymore.
A quiet day off, I don't think I've ever appreciated them more than I do now.
Hm. What should I do today? I haven't had a free day to myself since I got kidnapped.
What would I usually do with my free time?
Drunk nights in front of a TV crying myself to sleep thinking of memories of Catherine and wondering why I'm even here. It's been so long since I've done something other than that. What else can I do? Maybe that's all there is. Nothing's ever driven me like her, maybe I could just lay here and inspect the little lines and wrinkles on the picture in my wallet.
Whatever I do today, I at least have to start with brushing my teeth.
I stick my hand under the couch, taking out the suitcase I've been hiding from Victoria. Recovering it wasn't easy. I'm lucky just to be alive after fighting for it.
It started yesterday, the day after our trip to Alaska and we'd been given the day off. After much searching through this trash heap and paying Victoria fifty dollars to help, we found my luggage under a nest-type thing. We lifted and dug its shell apart, and scurrying inside were a host of rats that moved like some kind of collective. I couldn't believe she wasn't lying!
The rats noticed we'd entered their piece of the home, and probably would have gnawed us to death had we not sprinted away from the aroused infestation and retreated to the basement. It was a horrible mistake to anger their horde because what looked like thousands of them skittered over the main floor and made it their own. They ate up leftover food, gnawed on plastics, and even devoured some valuable electronics she'd been hoarding.
Victoria could hear the crashing and chewing through the basement ceiling. Her collection of miscellaneous junk was being mauled. Every bite sound darkened the scarlet cracks in her eyes and nearly burst the veins in her head.
The rest of the day consisted of us devising a plan to combat the incursion, sneaking in and out of the house for supplies, and setting our plan into motion. Long story short, the two of us fought them back with all our spirit. It involved rat poison, a stray cat, a mallet, and a lot of fire, but eventually, we fought them back into a small opening in the wall. Victoria let the cat into the opening and even sealed it up with a cat door.
The rats definitely aren't gone, but they're docile. For now.
It was hell. But at least they left my suitcase so I can have something to wear and something to brush my teeth with. I know my loan shark of a landlord Victoria wouldn't lend me one for free.
Honestly, her saving me from a dark death in an icy pit and her helping with the rat incident made me warm up to her, and made me think she's not pure crazy. But no matter how much I warm up to her she always disappoints.
Damn it, it seems just thinking about her summons. One morning, I just want one morning where she doesn't egg me into sprinting after her throat! Victoria stomps down the steps, her eyes hardly open and her hair a freshly washed, frizzy bush. Maybe I was too optimistic to think a day free of work would also mean a day free of her.
She's dressed in weird clothes for a day off. Black stockings stick to her legs and creep under an evergreen skirt. Slender green sleeves stretch down the shoulders of a black wool top that just barely shows a hint of her midriff.
It's starting to make me feel underdressed. All I have on are a pair of joggers and a kitten shirt Catherine gifted me.
"What are you doing down here? And why are you dressed like that so early in the morning?"
"It's almost eleven, it's not morning. And I need your bathroom. The faucet in mine has been acting up." She grunts, holding a toothbrush and toothpaste.
"Maybe the rats chewed up a pipe?"
"Mmm... Now I have to call someone to fix it. What did I do to deserve this?"
"This is a direct consequence of your hoarding problem. It's also kind of karmic justice for how you treat me."
"On second thought, you fix it!"
"I don't know how to do that. I did construction, not plumbing."
"You'll figure it out. Or I'll come down here every day to brush." She knows how to get to me. I guess learning how to be a plumber is how I'll spend my day off. "And I hear women love a man who can handle a pipe." Her eyebrows move up and down while she grins at me.
"I hear the things you say to me and pray every night before I go to bed that you just wouldn't." Hints of my stale breath creep into my nose, and the stink that invades pushes me to join Victoria.
Side by side we scrub our teeth in the mirror. Despite the unhygienic state of the living room, I can tell Victoria takes her hygiene somewhat seriously.
She showers every day, she doesn't smell whenever she jumps on me... If she would just clean upstairs, she wouldn't be so bad of a housemate. Hell, I'd clean it if she let me.
I spit it in the toilet while Victoria leans over the bathroom sink and spits into the drain.
"Do you have any cups?" I say with toothpaste still clinging to my teeth.
"Why?"
"To wash my mouth out."
"Why do you need a cup for that?" She says as she leans over the sink and puts her lips against the running water. She swishes the water in her mouth and chases the first spit with a stream of water. "No cup needed!"
"I'm not putting my mouth on the faucet you just wrapped your lips on."
"Ohh you're too fancy to put your lips up the faucet."
"It's your mouth that's the problem." I rip off a piece of toilet paper and wipe off the faucet.
"It's my house. I can lick whatever I want in here!" Alright, so the living room might not be the only problem. Her power trips are another point of concern.
"I hope you catch some awful, debilitating virus."
"If I do, your paycheck will pay my hospital bills!"
"You can't do that!"
"I work in finances! I can do whatever I want!"
"That's illegal."
"It's not illegal if I don't get caught. Who's gonna stop me?" I shuffle over the bathroom floor, and she shuffles back an equal distance.
A doorbell rings upstairs, interrupting our almost daily morning rat race.
"They're early…"
She walks upstairs, and after washing my mouth out of the likely still contaminated faucet, I curiously follow.
We were together all day yesterday and she didn't say anything about visitors. Maybe it's some sort of food delivery. If it is I would've appreciated a heads-up so I could order something too.
The door opens and the brisk air runs in kicking up a familiar cape and ponytail. Their smile glistens brighter than the glaring star behind them. Even when we're not working, they wear that crazy costume. Do they have a collection, or do they wash the same tights every day?
The last time I saw them they'd buried me under a few feet of snow for revealing their secret identity. They made it expressly clear they didn't care that I knew it or even used it with them alone, they just didn't want it to be common knowledge. I'm still not sure I get it, but I can call the Phantom as long as they want. Whatever keeps me above ground.
"Good morning all." Jessie smiles, crossing the border into the house. "how are-" The door shuts behind them, and when the clean air from outside stops flowing inside their face smashes to the ground.
I rush to their side while Victoria's arms lazily fold in on each other. "The smell from the room killed them!"
Victoria moves her head to get a better look at Jessie. "They're not dead- just knocked out."
"Don't you think that's still telling for the state of your house?"
"...Shut up and help me move them to the basement before they do die from the smell. Getting away with murder again will cost too much."
I choose to ignore the ominous implications of what she just said and grip Jessie's legs under my armpits while Victoria throws their cape over her shoulder. Our hold just barely keeps their head from dragging against the garbage on the floor.
They're so heavy... And their silky uniform makes grabbing their legs difficult!
We get our corpse to the basement stairway, feet away from where I hope we can revive them. I carefully move in such a way as to not hurt them. Keeping their legs up high to combat their sinking body, and cautious movements so we don't jostle or hurt them.
Then their head smacks the step on the way down.
"Victoria, watch their head."
"I know what I'm doing."
We take a few more steps down, Jessie's head hitting every one.
"Victoria, their head." I reinforce.
"Yeah, yeah."
Their head smacks the next step.
"Victoria!" I snap.
"If they didn't want to be carried like this, they shouldn't have fainted!"
"That's stupid, it's your fault they're like this! Just pick their head up so we don't give them a concussion!"
My screams and chiding do nothing to convince her of the importance of not dealing a crippling amount of brain damage to them, and I just resolve to hurry the process along so they don't suffer from anything permanent.
Their head hits the last step, and I stretch them across the couch, resting their head on its arm. Their chin sits on their chest, and a stray strand of hair bobs over their mouth.
"Good, they're just sleeping."
"Told ya. I could wake them up the same way I do you."
"We are not doing that to someone you knocked out." Jessie deserves better.
"Then how are we getting them up?"
"It's your mess, fix it in a humane way. "
"You live here now too, so it's our mess."
"You conniving-"
"Whew..." Jessie bellows while their eyes slowly come apart.
"Jessie, are you ok?"
"Wha- what happened?"
"A devious, despicable, heinous villain attacked you from behind!" Victoria makes up.
"A villain?" I can't believe she's lying to them, over a hoarding problem we could easily fix.
...Well I can- but not with a lie like this. It's such an obvious lie that-
"A villain!?" And they believe it without question, sitting up to attention.
"Uh-" I prepare to give them the truth their too naive to see, but before I can a swift strike to the soft part between my legs explodes a surge of pain through my muscles and brings me to my knees.
"Umf!"
"Yeah, they smacked your head up, but we took care of it."
"Do you lie like this for fun!?" I grunt.
"Lie is a harsh and scarily accurate word. I prefer, 'alternative perspective'."
"I wish the worst for you. Every second of every day I wish you the worst."
"Hey, I'm not sure what this fighting's about, but let's pull ourselves together guys! Training day's just getting started!" Jessie sits up, stroking the wandering hairs on his face back in place.
"Training day?" I ask while I recover the feeling between my legs.
"Remember when you promised to train with us on our way to the clock tower?"
"Oh." I wasn't expecting any follow-through on that. "But won't the training make your shoulder worse?"
"I have a doctor's appointment that'll fix up my arm in no time!" One doctor's appointment fixing a broken shoulder is beyond wishful thinking.
Jessie springs from the couch, perfectly recovered from the toxic smells and head trauma they endured. "Let's get a move on!"
I was looking for something to do. I guess this is it. I've needed to visit the gym again for a while, so this'll be good for me. Plus, maybe Victoria will forget about that plumbing thing.
"Just give me a minute to change."
"You look fine as is! Nobody's going to judge how you look where we're going!"
"Fine..." If I take a shower when I get back it should be alright.
"Hold your breath, Whitey." Victoria says as we all travel up the basement steps. "There's some... sleeping gas that villain I was talking about spread around."
"Really!? That dastardly criminal ruined your house then. Will you be ok?"
"I'll find a way to fix my house. I might have to call someone and pay exorbitant amounts of money though." A false sigh relaxed her posture. "But that's the price of heroism, right?"
"If money's all you need, I'd be glad to-"
"Don't give her money!" My eye cut to Victoria. "She'll be fine on her own."
"Killjoy." She says before taking a deep breath at the boundary of her radioactive living room.
We stay silent through the journey across the wasteland. Jessie because they earnestly believe Victoria's lie and don't want to fall victim to a villain's sleeping gas. Victoria probably because she wants to keep her lie's credibility. And my lips stay shut so I don't invoke her wrath or the attention of any potential rats that are still rooting around.
Jessie's the first to escape the stink tomb. "Do you mind if we use your car to get to the spot I have in mind Victoria?"
"Why don't we take Ghislain's Antique instead!" I suggest as soon as I cross the boundary between the door and the outside.
We're only allowed to hitch a ride on it for Antique missions. Something like this wouldn't get approval."
"Well how about your car? Or a taxi? A ride share? The bus!?"
"My car's fine. As long as you're paying for gas." Victoria says.
"Fine, but I'll drive." I shout.
"It's my car."
"And it's my life I'm throwing away if I let you drive there."
"Do you even know where we're going?" Victoria persists.
"You can just give me the location and we'll use the GPS! Besides, do you know how to get there?"
"...That's irrelevant." She huffs.
"How is that-!"
"How about," Jessie interjects, "I drive us there. Would you have more courage with me behind the wheel?"
"Absolutely. You have to be a better driver than Victoria."
"A better driver than me? Doesn't exist. I'm the only person on earth deserving enough to steer this car."
Jessie reaches behind their cape where they typically keep their armory of bullets, and a twenty-dollar bill comes out from behind them. "You can have this if you let me drive." They smile.
"Do I look that easy to you? My self-respect is worth more than twenty dollars!" Jessie pulls another twenty out for Victoria.
She snatches them out of their hand and pockets both bills. "I'm driving on the way back."
"See that Ren? Sometimes heroism involves disaster prevention!"
The keys fly from Victoria's pocket into Jessie's hands and into the ignition. I would've preferred they find a way to get the keys from Victoria without effectively rewarding her for her terrible driving and general childishness, but whatever keeps her from the driver's seat.