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—

Soapy had a lot of questions bouncing around in her head recently, so many that one might even fall out of her ears. What was going on upstairs with Whiskers? Are there any actual restaurants at the Sabu-Kai this year, or were the galas the only time non-bar food would be provided? Did she hear or feel the pop her spine just made first? These were the questions.

If she’d known the massage parlors had chiropractors on staff, she might have insisted the group come here first. “Ah!” She gasped, flinching as another joint popped from the snow-kin’s ministrations.

She’d been kidding about getting disassembled by a motherly snow-kin, but lo and behold, the Sabu-Kai had that on offer. Soapy only said it because it was the first thing she imagined would have the arm strength to match the elbow work Nenda did on her lower back. Weird how the Sabu-Kai had every flavor of sex worker, masseuse, and liquor under the moon, yet they completely forgot food!... real food! Not the cheapo little stuff some of the bars had on offer. She was hungry… and she knew Tobby’s peaches in the rental’s mini-fridge weren’t going to cut it.

She’d complain, but, “Umf~” groaning through her nose, face down on a table, took far, FAR higher priority as every major adjustment had her feeling a radiating warmth wash over her nervous system.

“You should really get this done more often if you get into as many fights as you say,” Mrs. Charood patronized as her thumbs slowly glided along Soapy’s spine, checking each vertebrae along the way.

Say what you will about chiropractors, be they real medical workers who solve problems at the body’s foundation or complete hacks conning you with the placebo effect, Soapy didn’t care. This was niiiiice~

“Getting blown up two days ago probably didn't help~” Soapy cooed, as skilled thumbs worked their way into her spinal muscle to loosen it back up.

“Yeah, that would do it, dear. Explosions, car crashes, and street brawls are all things I've seen that can mess someone up in ways they’d least expect.” She didn’t even question if that was true…

“I’d imagine so. You encountering it a lot, given the clientele available to you this week?”

“I’ve already had to unjam someone’s neck after they got into a bar fight up on B1, adjust one older sha who slipped a disc in the bap-tal arena, and tend more than a few dumbass bunnies from the cathouse who suffered from some embarrassing positional mishaps.”

“Not everyone was designed to be folded in half~” Soapy pointed out, though at this point was hardly listening. If she couldn't be folded in half before, she certainly felt limber enough to do so now.

“Try telling them that.” Charood sighed, before taking a step back to inspect the ‘partially disassembled’ shi on her table. At first glance, someone might think Soapy was about to undergo surgery, given how clean the room looked. It was like someone started with a doctor's office and then converted it into a massage parlor by swapping out all the medical devices for wooden furniture and knick-knacks. If they were going for a ‘clean and professional’ vibe, then it was certainly working. “A lot of minor adjustments, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Only advice I can give is to avoid getting blown up in the future, and maybe ask your boyfriend out there to be a little more gentle with you.”

“Boyfriend?” Soapy questioned, not raising her face from the table, but perking up her ears and her tail forming into an emotive ‘?’ like she occasionally saw Movva do.

“The cute orange one out front.” She said, sliding over a nearby chair so she could sit and take hold of one of Soapy’s hands. Soapy felt the chiropractor's touch around the varying joints before giving each a slight pull, making them pop. “Timid and clinging onto that daiquiri like a social lifejacket. Wouldn't be surprised if he had an intense case of ‘Intra Bestia’ going on under the surface.”

Soapy had heard that term somewhere before… But she wasn't sure where. More importantly: “How’d you know he was with me?” She asked, turning an ear directly to Charood. Soapy would forgo correcting to shi about her relationship status if it meant she’d learn something new.

“Whilst recording devices are expressly forbidden at the Sabu-Kai, we are allowed security cameras like the one hidden above the front door, so long as it goes to a person watching a screen and not anything that stores data. We use it to spot drunks or ornery gangsters who might disturb the tranquility we’ve cultivated here and send security to intercept if necessary.”

‘Sounds like a massive loophole,’ Soapy thought while the snow-kin moved to work on her other hand. “Huh, I figured it would be something creepy like psychologically profiling people so you know what to offer them before they even walk in.”

“Oh, we do that too.” She said, making another joint pop in time with Soapy’s surprised ‘mrrp!’. “But it's not a clandestine data harvesting op as some might think. We’re required to destroy all profiles created after we close on the fourth day. Which is annoying that we have to recreate them every year, but it's an understandable compromise in the name of secrecy.”

“You mean..”

“That the shi watching the cameras heard you say you wanted to be ‘deconstructed’ by a motherly snow-kin? Yes,” she smiled. “They called me in from the break room before you even got in the front door.”

“Wow… I'd be horrified if this didn’t feel so good.” And that was true!

“It's nothing nefarious, really, even if it sounds like it on the surface. The nefarious part is that it enables us to offer more… tailored services to our visitors.”

“Tailored?” Damn, this shi had Soapy by the curiosity! Though she’d be disappointed if this were just a tie-in for happy endings.

“Yes, tailored. It really encourages clients to leave a good review with the hosts when we can offer things like, say… showing you how to work your boyfriend's ears so he melts in your claws like he’s doing one room over from us right now.” She smiled dotingly.

This shi now warranted both of Soapy’s ears to be pointed at her, and she even deemed needed to look up at her from the table. “Really?”

“Really. Our sun-kin ear expert may be busy with him at the moment, but I can happily explain the basics to you if you want.”

Now that Soapy thought about it, touching a sun-kin’s ears was a big deal for them, wasn’t it? It takes a lot of trust to let someone else touch not only a sensory organ but also a cornerstone of your phenotype's identity. Likely held in the same regard as Soapy would letting anyone near her eyes.

And now Soapy had a rather indecent mental image of her getting her claws all over those delicate radars. It would satisfy the petty vengeance she felt towards them for triggering her ‘detected’ feeling all the time. Was bullying someone with good-feels really bullying? “Yes!” she said a little too eagerly. “I mean, uhh… That would be rather useful for later.”

Meanwhile… literally one room away.

“So I just keep it like this, right?” Tobby asked his masseuse turned instructor as he tried to mimic how she’d worked the elbow into the small of Pinky’s back.

“Yes, like that,” the admittedly pretty sun-kin instructed in that lofty accent. “But, given your height, I'd recommend using your free arm for support unless she’s on a high enough surface. Otherwise, it will be your back in pain by the time you are done. I’d know.” She nodded. Quite believable since she matched Tobby for height, minus his ears being taller.

“Listen to the professional, Tobby~!” Pinky chimed from the massage table in her half-dressed state. Someone had been more than happy to volunteer as the ‘practice dummy’ for the masseuse's impromptu lessons. Tobby could only imagine why… “Also, if you could go a liiiiitle higher~”

Nonplussed Tobby was nonplussed as he moved the little elbow circles he was doing further up her back. “There?”

“Yeaaaaah, right there~” she cooed, relaxing into the table again while her tail idly whisked and fwipped in the air.

The masseuse only giggled. “Wow, such a loyal friend. I can see why she keeps you around.”

“More like I keep her around.” Tobby huffed, not that he was mad, more that he was somewhat numbed to Pinky’s shenanigans. The same way he was numbed to the fact he was a lone sha in a private room with two gorgeous shi, one of whom had to be convinced to keep her underwear ON. In short, Pinky was, is, and always will be borderline shameless about what makes her feel good. The shock value had worn off years ago… for Tobby at least.

The masseuse circled the table, inspecting both his posture and work. “When they said I’d be working in the capital, the last thing I expected was to be teaching. It’s a rather pleasant change of pace. Though I would be remiss if I didn't offer to resume working on those impressive ears, no? That is, if you can bear the thought of claws not belonging to your sweetheart touching them.”

Was she… hitting on him? Or just being considerate of his feelings? Saying a sun-kin’s ears were big was like saying night-kin can see in the dark, but implying that a sun-kin’s ears were ‘big’ was more akin to saying if he magically wished for three more inches below the belt, he’d break double digits. If only Tobby could tell the difference…

“Actually, if I do end up doing this for her at some point, I’d like to be able to do more than just one thing,” He asked, taking a break from his elbow work, to awkwardly tap his claws together. It's not a nervous tic. He swears. “If you're willing to show me more?”

The shi actually seemed impressed with his request, though he couldn't figure out for the life of him why. “But of course, you said she’s a bap-tal fighter, yes? I can show you how to tend to the common problem areas. That is, if your ‘assistant’ is still willing?”

One of Pinky’s hands came up, pointing a claw in the air for emphasis despite not moving from her relaxed state. “I have never been more pro-education than I am right now! Show him everything, ye wise master~.”

“Let's start up high then, that way you can… chisel your way down. Get the big stuff out of the way first because it's the easiest, and then smaller, detailed stuff as we go.”

—

B4: The Silk Temple Cathouse

“So this is the kind of cathouse you can get with a bottomless- pun very much intended- budget and talent from all over the world,” Soapy said as they took in the sight. “It's certainly… A lot.

Space down on the fourth sub-basement/floor/renovated-tunnel-network/thing was at an even higher premium than the third. Thus, keeping with the theme of ‘tight and warm,’ none of the space was wasted, and she couldn't spot a single cold light anywhere.

The foyer connecting all the floors was likely the largest room down here, and a quarter of it had been taken up by the temple-like facade that served as the front of the cathouse. Knowing the origin of these tunnels and the worn look of the stone pillars, they might have actually been real. Silk curtains hung every which way, and warm colors shone through every hazed-over window. Any window that wasn’t hazed over was more for… ‘window shopping’ for lack of a better phrase. Lots of scantily clad sha and shi beckoning passers-by to come closer. The owners even got cute with the sign above the main door, having a little cartoon caricature of Xoso peeking out from under some curtains and pointing to the classical ‘Shi! Shi! Shi!!’ sign. “I kinda like it.”

The only things that broke the general ‘aesthetic’ were the copious number of other smaller venues that occupied the floor. Different themes, different fetishes, different… uhh… yeah, no, that was just about it.

Team ‘Diplomatic-Incident-In-Waiting’, a name Soapy was still workshopping, hadn’t gone inside yet, nor did it look like any of them would. She wouldn't be going inside for very Tobby-shaped reasons, but as for the other two…

Tobby and his 1/4th of a daiquiri were busy looking at her like he was still mortally wounded by that ‘bottomless’ pun she’d made ten seconds ago. At least he was doing so when he wasn’t struggling to keep his burning ears tucked down, and his eyes off all the indecent things going on between the silhouettes in the fogged-over windows of the private rooms. “Can we be… anywhere but here?” It also seemed the hosts put more effort into acquiring talented staff than they did into soundproofing… because Soapy could hear A LOT.

No amount of ambient music could cover up all the moans, groans, and other super explicit sounds that seeped through the unfortunately thin walls. Also… it kinda smelled like cinnamon down here.

And then there was Movva, who looked like Xoso took time out of his day to piss in her cereal. “Xoso is a cruel and capricious god,” she grumbled, arms folded, and glaring at the establishment, her own ears were tucked back, though not for the sake of embarrassment like Tobby. “Why is it the instant, THE INSTANT, I finally find a guy loveable enough to give the whole relationship thing another try, Xoso throws this at me!” She said, gesturing vaguely at the cathouse in frustration.

“Because he’s testing that loyalty...? or at least Jek’s trust in you? Or something?..” Tobby tried to suggest.

“Tobby… if Xoso wanted to test my loyalty, Jek would have a hotter twin brother with a seven-figure income. This!” she gestured vaguely again. “The promise of getting to be the center-piece of my own private gangbang with a bunch of certified disease-free studs, it's the stuff porn is made of! Magic! And he chooses the instant I become loyal to Jek to offer it to me on a silver platter? It's just mean!”

Soapy was pretty sure Movva was the last shi who ever got to complain about someone ‘being mean’ after what she did to her that morning. Even if Movva had taken several huge steps to mend that divide between them…

“Pinky… I don’t think your not getting laid in,” he looked over to a conveniently placed clock on the foyer wall. “,five hours is the end of the world. Especially after risking your clothes mildewing so you could go at it with him for six hours beforehand.”

Soapy, kinda wanting to be involved in the conversation, jumped in. “In hindsight, it sounds to me like he knew you’d be upset about not getting to partake in your weird fantasies, and tried to satisfy you as much as possible beforehand to make up for it.”

Movva squinted at her, but Soapy could see those gears spinning in the back of her exotic brain.

“I’m willing to put money down that he’s using your absence as recovery time so he can do it again when his ‘loveable hot mess’ returns.” She had no way to confirm that without her assistant, but it was the nicest thing she’s said to Movva all day. Weird…

“Whether that's true or not, it still kinda upsets me…” She huffed for a moment before turning her back on the cathouse. “I may also be kinda hungry.”

In addition to which Tobby facepalmed. “Pinky… you know what happens when you don’t eat.”

“What happens?” Soapy asked, looking to Tobby.

“She gets hangry…”

“Do not.” Movva pouted.

“Do too…”

“Do not!”

“I watched you punch a guy in the bits after school one day because a fire drill made us miss lunch! Not kick, punch!”

“I told you he was being a dick!”

“No, he said he thought the name of the band on your shirt was weird. Because it was ‘weird’. But spelled with a y! You were hangry.”

“Fine!” Movva relented. “Tobby would you… I dunno… Go back to the car and get one of those peach things for each of us? Then meet us down on B5?” Was it just her, or was something… off about the way Movva said all that?

Tobby suddenly seemed a little nervous for some reason. “Oh... um… O-okay. You sure?”

“Certainly~” Movva nodded, but that too seemed… Off somehow. Like she was implying something Soapy was blatantly unaware of. Was it code? Or some contextual code phrase?

“Okay, guess I'll be back. Keys?”

Movva tossed him the keys to her rental, and he looked at them almost like he was holding a gun for the first time. “I’ll be back.” He didn't even look at Soapy before he scampered off towards the elevators.

“The hell was all that about?” Soapy asked, looking back to Movva. “I would have gone with him so he wasn't all alone.”

Movva simply shrugged dismissively. “I dunno, must be hungry too,” she stated before glancing over to the stairs leading down to B5. “In the meantime, though… I think it's time for stage 3 of the Pinky forgiveness plan,” she grinned.

“Wait a minute…” Soapy squinted. “You mean the timeframe I had to ask my three questions didn't expire until just now?! You made it sound like they'd expire once we got in the parking garage!”

Movva shrugged harder, putting her hands up plaintively and snickering a very disingenuous, “Whoops~.”

—

B5: The clubs

The elevators of the main foyer didn't extend all the way down to the fifth sublevel, as if it were an architectural afterthought. The forgotten tunnels of the forgotten tunnels. There was just a long, shallow staircase running down into the stony earth. The physical dive for the metaphorical dive they were going to. None of this was to say the clubs were any less lively than the other floors, it was just as crowded. The sides of the long stairway were also lined with more private rooms like the ones on B4, but furnished more like a private booth with tables and seats.

Neon lights and graffiti art were the default down here, but whether that was intentional or simply this section of underground going unmaintained remained to be seen. Soapy did note a distant thumping base that grew louder with each step down the stairs. A lot of the people down here were definitely younger, mostly 20-somethings like her in varying states of health, drunkenness, and status. Many were even wearing masks.

“Two please~” Movva chimed, making Soapy’s focus snap over to the pink exotic. She was laying it on rather thick with a poor sha who was manning a stand selling the odd masks. She was doing the forward lean, the flicky tail, the arms folded under her breasts, everything. And for nothing! The masks were free, like everything else. Maybe Soapy wasn’t the only one who liked to mess with people for the funzies…

Last time Soapy tried that maneuver was with that librarian sha back in Nykata… gods, that felt like such a long time ago now. ‘I wonder if it would work on Tobby…’ crossed her mind before one of the masks was promptly dropped in her hands.

“Aaand one for you.”

Like most of the masks around here, it was a simple alabaster white, but molded into an artistic rendition of a cave tigerress in her prime. Saber teeth and all. “Umm… why?”

“It’s all part of the Pinky forgiveness plan.” Movva nodded, only for Soapy to give her an incredulous look. “Just trust me. You’ll thank me later.”

“Fine,” she begrudgingly relented. “But why are so many other people wearing them?”

“That part’s easy,” she said as they kept walking down the stairs, sidestepping around the occasional drunk losing the battle with said stairs. “As you might have noticed, everyone down here is on the younger side, and thus likely haven’t achieved any significant rank in their varying organizations yet.”

“And what does that have to do with the masks...?”

“Because they don’t want to get fired, killed, or scolded once the Sabu-Kai is over,” Movva explained. “Just ‘cause your parents can’t spank you in public for embarrassing them at the butchers doesn’t mean they won't beat your ass the instant you get home.”

If what Movva was implying was correct, these sha-kai were hiding from their fellow members.

“Surprise surprise, not a lot of the old fuckers upstairs are very fond of the idea of their subordinates participating in ‘corruption culture,’” she air quoted. “They think it makes them look bad, that it’s debasing the Shasian identity. These guys disagree.” She said, vaguely gesturing to the ones they passed.

“Fuck yeah!” one cheered behind his mask before tripping and faceplanting into the stairs… shirtless… and smeared in an unknown white dust. He didn’t move after…

“See what I mean?”

“I think so…” Soapy said before looking at the mask she was given. It looked like it was designed to rest comfortably on her muzzle, and passing her claws over the surface, it was hard to tell if it was made out of some kind of plastic or strange ceramic… or both. She wasn’t going to bash it against the wall to check; she simply slipped it on.

“The other reason,” Movva continued, before pointing way down the stairs to what looked like a bookish snow-kin shi and plains-kin sha claw-in-claw making their way towards one of the many private rooms. Both were wearing the white masks, but even at this distance, Soapy could spot the markings of a street-level Gatogri member on the plains-kin’s outfit. And he was… all over that snow kin? The feeling seemed mutual as she wasn't letting go of him either. “,is that it also enables people to interact with others they’d normally never be caught dead with.”

Oh… ohh… Soapy could easily imagine how much trouble a Gatogri member could get in for fraternizing with anyone who wasn’t a fellow plains-kin. They’d kill him… slowly.

“Like that~” Movva subtly pointed with a knowing smile before the two examples practically fell into the private room, arms around each other as the door closed behind them. “I do believe that was my science officer, Fenna… And by the looks of it… “ Movva trailed off as the two of them stopped just in front of the door the other two had disappeared into.

The ambassador/captain of that science officer not finishing that sentence as she watched the dark silhouettes on the two made on the privacy door. The sound from within was muffled, so there was no making out what was being said, but Movva seemed… bothered. Especially when the larger Gatogri’s silhouette roughly bent the science officer over the table within.

Movva was scowling, watching that door intently as the muscles under all that bristling pink fur tensed, ready to bust someone's head in. Soapy’s eyes briefly traced down Movva’s arm to see that her claws were out; Correction, she was really ready to rip someone’s face off. At least… until the Fenna’s shadow looked back and said something to the male, before promptly perking her rear and doing a notably eager little ‘fuck me’ wiggle. A wiggle he rewarded by pinning her shoulders with one hand, and grabbing the base of her tail with the other. Soapy winced a little as he used said tail to hike Fenna’s rear up further, like a slab of particularly breedable meat. An implication the shi seemed all too happy with, if the restrained yet even more eager wiggling that followed was anything to go by.

Movva’s demeanor seemed to shift in an instant, going from ‘murder’ to ‘relieved’ to something Soapy could only describe as quite amused. “Oh… She’s about to get destroyed.” Movva tittered before turning and resuming her way down the stairs. “Should have known the smart one had a weakness for ‘big and dumb.’ Let's leave her to it.” She cheerily hummed, as if nothing hyperviolent had nearly occurred. If anything, her mood seemed perfectly restored and then some!

Soapy stood there on the stairs, having to process what the hell just happened for a second, before she snapped out of it and caught up to Movva. “Were you about to-”

“Kill a guy if what I saw in there turned out to be anything less than consensual? Yes.” She admitted, plainly and without a shred of hesitation. “I think I’d be more than justified.”

What more could Soapy say on a topic like that? That if Movva attacked, there was a decent chance she’d be banned from future Sabu-Kai gatherings? That hardly mattered in comparison to saving her science officer from the wrong kind of brute.

“For the sake of everyone involved, if you ever get a chance to meet Fenna in the future, don’t tell her we were right outside the door when she decided to invite a ska-kai to pillage her hot little village.” Movva requested, glancing back up the stairs at Soapy following her.

Soapy was unimpressed by the innuendo. “Really? Pillage her village? Can’t you just say ‘play in the snow’ like everyone else? You gotta bring up the whole plains-kin raiders thing?”

“That would be boring,” Movva stated, as she now marched down the stairs, proud of the new euphemism. “Besides, not only does it rhyme, but I'm sure you’d appreciate it more if Tobby pillaged yours. What with all the roughness that entails.”

Soapy let out an indignant trill. “Hey!”

“Is for the rous~” Movva countered, slipping on her own mask.

At the bottom of the stairs was a simple set of double doors, glowing neon graffiti painted over it so many times it was as unintelligible as the music thumping from the other side. What was intelligible was the heretically modern depiction of Ardon painted on the wall above the door.

Ardon was often depicted as a sun-kin with three faces looking different ways, three sets of towering ears, and three sets of arms, each holding different tools and instruments to represent the arts. This one still matched all those descriptors, but with a few notable changes. This Ardon was metal, blackened and cold, yet sitting in the same serene pose as the original. Countless wires hung from his form and went off in all directions. The eyes were neon lights, the ears were jagged like antenna arrays, and in each hand lay much more modern instruments. Keyboards, synthesizers, old school data-drives, and the like.

Soapy was somewhat familiar with the depiction. Back when she was still attending school… or at least attempting to, similar drawings tended to show up where the edgy corruption culture teenagers hung out. Less of a machine god and more of a symbol of the new and technologically inclined counterculture. Neat!

Movva pushed the doors open, and Soapy was almost blown back by the waves of sound, smoke, and poor decisions flowing out. The brochure was right… This place wasn't just trashy, it was trashy by design. Soapy was hard-pressed to find a single light that wasn't either neon or ultraviolet. The place was a night-club through and through, with all the strippers, drugs, poles, and shady booth dealings that entailed.

The masks suddenly felt rather necessary, as Soapy was pretty sure even she would kill an alternate universe version of her that willingly entered this place. She felt dirty just being here… But that might just be because the air filters weren't that effective this deep into the mesa.

She could hardly hear herself think in a place like this. “I still don't know what this place has to do with part three of your plan or me. Unless your plan was for me to do bumps of synth-coke off your ass like,” she panned over the main room, counting, “a dozen other people are doing right now.” Expensive and imported though the synth-coke may be… it was not the vice for her.

“Don’t worry, it's relevant,” she assured. “We just need to find a good seat before my present gets here.”

“Present? What present?” Soapy tried to yell over the music, but Movva simply walked off without her.

Turns out the ‘perfect seats’ were simply ones that were A) clean, B) far enough from the speakers so they could actually hear each other, and C) a front row to one of the many stages. Soapy was going to be pissed if Movva thought taking her to watch a bunch of exotics in g-strings dance made up for what she did. It helped a little… but Soapy wasn't exactly in the mood for an impromptu bachelorette party.

Movva checked an archaic little watch she’d been keeping tucked in her shorts pocket instead of on her wrist, “Part three of the Great Pinky Forgiveness Plan. I must pre-empt my magnanimous gift by telling you a little something about Tobby.” She said, getting comfy in her seat.

Soapy’s ears reflexively perked up at the mention of dirt on the precious orange bean.

“Now that I have your attention,” she cleared her throat. “Ever notice how Tobby is constantly trying to do nice things for you? Especially when you’re mad?”

Soapy nodded as it was rather hard not to notice in hindsight. The book, the food, the salon, the dress, taking her shopping earlier today, the peaches, the gambling money, and tons of other small things he seemed to bashfully do for her.

“There’s a reason. Two, technically, but I’m contractually bound not to say one of them. Here’s what I need you to understand about Tobby. Timid as he is, he’s a people pleaser. He feels validated knowing his actions made others happy, or at least better, and he’ll do almost anything to achieve that. Conversely, he absolutely hates being an inconvenience or burdening others with what he feels are ‘his problems’, even when he should. His sun-kin guilt goes through the roof the instant anyone does something nice for him. In fact, knowing him, he’s likely glad his apartment got attacked by pirates, because it meant he could stay at his mom’s house without feeling like a freeloader.”

Tobby did always seem to enjoy being the gift-giver rather than the receiver. He outright admitted it when they were getting her dress from that shop. “Is that why he keeps letting me steal his food?”

“That depends, was taking his food making you happy?”

Soapy had to think for a second and looked around the area as if it would give her a more immediate answer. “Well… yes. But I only did it at first ‘cause I was kinda hungry and I wanted to annoy the shit out of him. Then I was doing it because his mom knows how to cook, and now I just do it ‘cause it’s fun… and it annoys the shit out of him.”

“It’s all shits and giggles until someone giggles and shits,” Movva said, casually inspecting the old watch again. The hell was she waiting for?

“What's that even supposed to mean?”

“It means that you played with him so much that now he’s your favorite toy. For no other can compare to an endless puzzle box that will always have one more reaction to give, or secret to spill if you pry hard, smart, or persistently enough.”

She… wasn’t wrong… And Soapy felt kinda called out now. Was she really that obvious about it?

“A fact that has him more than willing to sacrifice himself upon the pyre of your amusement. A fact that makes him want to brutalize that Clard guy on your behalf, despite having never deliberately harmed anyone in his life. A fact that has him terrified you’ll get bored with him and discard him for another.”

“Waiwaiwait! He’s what?” The fuck did Movva mean Tobby was terrified of her getting bored with him?! She’s poked and prodded enough to know something like that would break him; she couldn’t do that to him!

“Right on time…” Movva muttered, looking at the watch again. “And before you ask, yes, I was using dramatic and flowery language to buy time for my third and final gift to get ready. If you can't forgive me after this, well… fuck it, I guess.”

Soapy was going to get whiplash with how fast she had to swap from alarmed confusion to intrigued confusion. “What did you do? What is it?”

“You’re familiar with the Shihereian doctrine of ‘the true self’, right? To be who you’d be if nobody else were watching?

“Yeah… It’s kind of one of her cornerstone teachings.”

“Then you should be more than relieved to know you aren't the only one with insecurity issues…” Soapy could feel Movva grin behind that mask, as a new song began to play throughout the club.

Was that… ‘Pynk Tigress’? Soapy remembered ‘Pynk Tigress’ used to be really popular about a decade ago, right around when everyone here would have been in school. A fact that didn't seem lost on those present, cheering as they got hit with pop-culture nostalgia. This was one of her more… ‘controversial’ singles, ‘Working Shi.’ It was the kind of song your parents didn’t want you listening to because of the very explicit lyrics. Lyrics that, if someone took a second to look any deeper than the surface, were very pro-confidence, anti-judgement/shame, and love of oneself. It also helped that it had the kind of beat that made you feel like a sexy pole-twirling bitch… wait.

Suddenly, Movva’s insistence on washing and rewearing the shirt she got all bloody made a lot more sense; it wasn’t that she was shameless, she’d planned this. All of this. And once Soapy looked up from said shirt, Movva nodded for her to look up at the stage before saying in a very knowing tone, “His are just buried much deeper.”

Soapy was not ready to handle the sheer weight conveyed by those six words, more specifically, that ‘His’ part as her head turned to look up at the stage.

She needed a doctor, for who else was going to stitch her jaw back on after she saw a lone paw provocatively step from behind the stage curtain …an orange paw.

(Author's note: Likes for the like god, Updoots for the updoot throne!)