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shuuen-no-cimory · 11 months ago

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To Cook a Lobster, Start by Breaking its Shield [A Projectmoon OC Fanfiction]

Language: English Rating: M

WARNING: Violence, gore, heavy language, Blood, mention of cannibalism– The usual District 23 shenanigans, really.]

PREVIEW: “Oh yes, praise me! I know my dish is so amazing it catches you speechless now!”

She’s fucking insane and he’s royally messed up. How could he mess up his very first escort mission? Not to mention when the client was a person quite THAT important? How would his leader respond TO THIS?

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Notes: This is a one year old long fanfic of my fixer OC (Theta) and my friend Geppie on Discord's fixer OC (Nero), sets in District 23 Mirror World AU! I did the illust since last year but ony manage to finish this fic yesterday to celebrate 1st year anniversary of our Project Moon TTRPG campaign, Tunas Office! I hope you may enjoy it!

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A shield exists to protect.

A shield has to be sturdy and immovable, no matter what it has to endure.

That’s how a Zwei Fixer is idealistically supposed to be. Whoever asks for their protection, whenever it is, and wherever they have to be, a Zwei Fixer shall be ready to shield them from any trouble. They'll stand for their client, for the people in The City. However, one may have a question: what if they're the one who fell into trouble themselves? Who would wield the shield for them?

This question came to Theta's mind as she sharpened her carving knife. Her eye wouldn't stop bouncing from the glisten over its blade to the Zwei Association badge tucked on the unconscious man's jacket.

Today's batch came in a bit earlier through her backdoor, surprisingly it was a plus-one batch. It might be great to get a free meat stock, but having too much on a day? That'd be wasteful. Not to mention when this plus-one could be quite a trouble to handle if not dealt properly.

"... Guess I shouldn't have been so greedy..." a frown appeared on the corner of her lips while she shed off unnecessary parts of the meat in her hands, "Now, what to do with that one?"

A click of tongue escaped her lips. It's not that she's ungrateful with the bountiful harvest she had today. Hell, these ingredients were scarce in this type of business niche. However, dealing with them is a problem by itself. To immediately cut up the meat right after she had her hands on it would make it last shorter. It wouldn't be fresh enough when she served them inside her meat pie. On the other hand, keeping them alive for a little longer would be even a greater risk to her.

In an honest opinion, she'd never expect there'll be a day where she could catch a man under Zwei's protection AND The escort from Zwei himself. In a package, nonetheless.

Oh, well, fuck it. She should focus on the main batch she's working on for the day. Can't be distracted for too long.

The knife meticulously carved out the meat from the bones, quite satisfactory despite the imperfections of her work. Slicing meat wasn't as different as crafting wooden charms, anyway. Both were delicate works that had to be done precisely with care and attention, any small mistakes could waste a good ingredient.

Just when she put the carved out meat into her basket, she heard a groan. Her head immediately turned to the source.

Oh, thought that Zwei guy had woken up, he was only disturbed while in his slumber. She only had half the usual dosage of sedative left but luckily, this man’s constitution was suck ass.

Theta approached the light haired man and kneeled down right in front of his peaceful figure. What a sight! A man so young and pretty, sleeping like Snow White in the corner of her kitchen!

In a way, he’s sort of an eye-sore.

Even if he looked bulky thanks to the layered Zwei’s outfit, he’s a bit too lean for her liking. That white hair with some black streaks might look great if dipped into some red soup, though. And what’s with the eyepatch? If it means his eyes or left face has injury, that also lessens the quality of his organ. The meat on his arms could possibly be a bit too gamey from intense arm workouts. A Zwei usually needed that type of workout so they could hold their weapon with both hands, or so that’s what her best friend said a long time ago.

(Also it’s not like he seemed that much younger than her. If anything, they were probably only a year or two apart.)

Once again she checked off the binding she made on his wrists and ankles, shook it lightly to check its fastness. All pockets and hidden compartments on his clothing had been ransacked as well, resulting in a pile of small weapons and a couple of identifications. She didn’t bother to strip this man off, she wasn’t even sure if she’d cook him up, knowing the circumstance. Though she has to deal with different kinds of men every day, Theta was yet no more than a mere feeble chef, fighting against a fixer (especially one who works under an Association) was off the charts. In all fairness, this was also her first time acquiring a game this extraordinary, a little precautions wouldn’t hurt, no?

Once she was done with the check up, there’s only one last thing to add. ‘Let’s not scare this man once he wakes up,’ that’s the idea that popped up in her mind. Thus, Theta put a black sack over his head. With this, she didn’t have to look at his sorry mug any longer!

Theta returned back to her work, moving the fresh ingredients to the freezer and preparing her oven to bake the day’s meat pies batch. After that, she was usually supposed to package her warm pies and serve it for the customer. Once daybreak came, she would close her store and wait for yet another new batch of hunts to step onto her traps. Rinse and repeat, day in and day out. Even after 5 years running this business, these redundant cycles never got any lighter.

Perhaps it’s the time to get some helping hands…? Oh, who was she kidding.

***

The Zwei man felt a great pain on his head. Whatever that shit was, it bonked his head too damn hard. Who the fuck set up a prank THAT dangerous on someone’s back door? And why was it so dark in here? He couldn’t see anything!

A faint noise of clothing being rubbed and soft hums reached his ears. The voice would be comforting if his nose wasn't assaulted by the odor of rust and decay that wafted in the air. It got stronger each moment until he gagged to death. Urgh, he must cover his mouth-

“... What? Wait, the fuck?”

The black sack that covered the Fixer’s head moved frantically on the corner of Theta’s vision. She stopped polishing her cleaver knife and turned her head to the obnoxious noises which disrupted her humming. Oh, well, the cute escort should’ve woken up from his slumber anytime soon or else she’d dump his body somewhere.

He wasn’t ready when the sack suddenly pulled off from his head. Splashes of crimson replaced the suffocating darkness. Among the gores, a tint of gold staring right at his own bloodshot eye.

“Fine morning isn’t it, sir Zwei Fixer- oh, wait,” Theta pulled out his Nest citizenship out of her breast pocket, waving it right in front of his face, “How rude of me, sorry. I mean, sir Nero? Had a nice nap, didn’tcha?”

Theta kneeled right before the man, a playful smile adorned her round face. That would be a cute encounter if only Nero didn’t feel the piercing tip of her carving knife dug on his throat. Nero held back his breath, shutting up and stared back at the red haired woman. It was good that he knew better to keep his composure, especially in front of a freak like her. After all, if she aimed for his meat, she’d have slit his neck right away, not merely use the tip of her knife to lift his chin up.

“Nap? You mean that blunt force trauma on my head?” He gave her a wary laugh, trying not to shit his pants and puked from the gruesome scenery hanging behind the woman, “Thanks for the nap, my boss would definitely nag at me if he knew I had one while on the clock.”

Speaking of work,

“Right, of course you were at work. It doesn’t make sense some random Fixer would just walk into a Bistro’s backdoor in Street of Flavor. Not a member of Zwei, especially.” She chuckled. Her blade slid down from his neck, poked on the Zwei Association's badge nestled on his chest. “So what was it? Infiltration? Patrols? Ah, maybe an escort mission?”

“Just the usual, run-in-the-mill Fixer work, miss. Don’t think a chef like you would be that interested in it.”

“Aw, not even gonna say a tidbit of it? Fiiiine,” Theta stood up and returned to her kitchen counter. Nero could see there’s something over the counter top, yet the chef’s back obscured it. As she hummed, her hand was busy preparing something, “Are you hungry, Nero? Wanna try Theta’s Bistro’s special delicacy?”

The way this woman used his name–moreover with such friendliness–irked him. What the hell did this woman plan on?

A light step, a little dramatic twirl. She faced him with a proud smile and a pie tray in her hands, “Here’s the special dish today~! I’m glad your friend was there to help me!”

Nero stopped breathing. Time slowed down. The pain on his head crushed his skull. He vomited.

She fucked him hard. He was fucked real hard at that point.

With a delicate placement, a black scarf with red lines was laid on the pie tray. Nero knew for sure it had GREEN lines instead of RED. Some vegetable cuts adorned the tray, circling the dish’s main attraction, The Head of K Corp’s W District Branch Office.

“Oh yes, praise me! I know my dish is so amazing it catches you speechless now!”

Well, there goes his paycheck for sure. And maybe his position in Zwei too? His reputation as well? And moreover, there goes his client…

“What? Doesn’t have the appetite for it?”

“Oh I wish I could,” he gritted his teeth, his hand groped on his back for any knives. While forcing a smile over his cute face (or that’s how he claimed it to be), he held back his rising bile, "but nah, I had a breakfast already ma'am. Maybe... Later?"

Good. Nice answer, Nero. Surely it won't lead him to doom, right? Refusing a meal that has been prepared specially for him isn't a bad thing, right? Even that… Disappointed sigh… Of her… Means it’s not that bad… right?

The chef hummed a tune as she put the plate down back to the counter, “That’s too bad. Put ‘em aside for a little while and the taste turns horrid! Do you know how hard it is to process their meat and to keep it fresh?” She leaned on the counter with a frown. In a swift moment, the glint of her kitchen knife has found its way back to her hand.

Her gloved hand meticulously wiped the blood off while she continued her rambles, “ There’s a reason why I always try to not process all the ingredients I collect right away whenever I get a bit too much, y’know?” A click of tongue and a smack of tail adorned her angry wiping, “Too soon, and the meat would taste bad before I could use it. Too late, and the ingredient may run or mentally deteriorate and it affects the quality of their meat. It’s a labor of love, sure, but it’s still a bit hard for a single, frail woman like me!”

‘Frail’, yeah sure, Lady.

Oh, luck on Nero as he couldn’t find any of his hidden knives. Did this woman take all of it? Even the one he purposefully hid on his boxer? Well, shit, let’s dillying a bit.

“Why don’t you hire someone, then? Surely some would kill to work with you,” just a bit more time, Nero, he thought to himself. In the midst of it, he chose the last resort he had by trying to fiddle with the rope on his wrists. At least this woman wasn’t that clever since she only used those cheap ropes to tie him up. He could feel the rope fraying slightly from his nail but… The woman approached him again with… a pack of cigarettes?

As she stride toward him, his nails froze while it still dug onto the rope. Each step she took revealed more contour of her face. He could notice some blood and cuts over her chef outfit too, some frayed and burned ends too. The moment she squatted down to be on the same level, the antsy Fixer held back his breath.

Time went like forever when Theta stared at him in silence, as if trying to gouge up the details of each strand of his locks or every inch of his wrinkles. It was the gaze of someone who enjoyed the sight of an interesting specimen, so to speak. Her left hand which held the pack propped her chin, it seemed slightly bigger and sharper than her right hand too. In such proximity, of course Nero himself couldn’t help but examine the eccentric murderer’s face as his way to avoid her penetrating golden eye. Started from some uneven bumps on her cheek, down to the cuts just right below her chin. Oh, is that some burned white splotches under her deep wine-colored hair? A third degree burn mark? Those were nasty. He couldn’t see her other eye under those bangs either, was it even there? And her-

His attention moved to her right hand that pulled a stick out of the pack. A white, cheap cigarette, something his seniors from Backstreet usually enjoy. Theta slipped those between her chapped, crimson lips, dyeing its tip. Was it painted with lipstick? Or was it blood?

“Say, do you smoke, Nero?” She took out another stick. Nero chirped, “Err, nah, I don’t, ma’am.”

“Oh, nice,” Theta put the second stick on Nero’s pale lips. “You know, I dislike smokers though I’m a smoker myself. Hated over smoked meat, yanno? It tastes bitter and harder to cook. The quality dropped soooo low. I’m the quality-over-quantity type, you see.”

A flick of her finger turned the gas on, lighting up the tail of her cigarette, “So I have the deal, let’s have a smoke together. If you’d like to be my assistant, feel free to join me. But of course, I’d rather you not smoke for the sake of your meat quality. That, if you wished to be a dish–”

CLANK CLANK

Her words cut off by the Theta immediately stood up at the alarm-like loud noise. She groaned and returned the pack back to her pocket, “Ah, cunt, I didn’t prepare for another meal yet! Do ya know how painful it is to put a new trap?! COME ON!”

Her hand swiftly fetched her knife and in a blink of eye she stormed off the kitchen.

…

Guess luck was really with him that day?

Nero quickly freed himself. Without wasting another second, he scanned every corner for any hidden exit. Nil. No damn way but the door she stormed off to.

He picked up the cleaver, the most clever weapon he could hold at the moment. Where the fuck did that woman stashed all his weapon? Oh, well, he needed to survive. He took the first step out of the door–

BAM

Theta’s back slammed on the wall just right beside the door, spat blood out, “Ya wankers go 3-in-1 on me? Fucking cowards!”

She immediately dashed toward one of the gruff men, knife thrusted– only to get a hard kick on her stomach. She did manage to slice her target’s arm yet she’s writhing on the floor. She lifted her head to find one of the men’s sole crushed her face.

Theta grabbed the man’s foot, pushing it away, “This is how ya beat your business rivals?”

CRACK. Hard stomp on her back.

“No personal feeling, miss. It’s just work.”

Her breath heaved. That might’ve cracked a bone or two.

As Nero watched the fight–Or rather, it was just the woman got pummeled–went on. He couldn’t get his attention away from the battered red hair. It wasn’t like he enjoyed this display of violence. No, he wasn’t a sick fuck, mind you. If he could, he would’ve already taken his eye away from her, or from the only visible exit from this godforsaken place that was behind one of the men. If he came out now, he’d definitely get pulled into the fight.

…And did the woman just mention ‘business rival?’

“... Shit,”

Theta tried to stand up again, but now she was pinned to the wall with her own knife pointed at her neck. Blood dripped from her lips, down to her jaw.

“Last word before we take you back as a soup, ‘Chef’?”

She spat blood to the side, “I gotta say if your meat came from me, you’d rather eat dirt. Mine’s too rotten.”

Despite how hopeless the fight was, she still tried to keep up her calm demeanor. However, even Nero could notice how her hand and tail were flinching even when the tallest of those men was standing right on his vision. It’s a hopeless situation. And he couldn’t do anything about it. Even better, he always knew how not to do anything about this. Better be smart. Better be safe. Better be smart. Better be safe–

Yet there he was, in a moment where both doing nothing or running would cut his life short.

A distant memory was scratching his brain.

Nero held his breath, biting down the forgotten cigarette between his gritted teeth. He didn’t even realize his grip on the cleaver’s handle tightened.

He wasn’t trying to hold his fear back—it was an urge. And it’s popping inside him. Raking his head.

He shouldn’t just stand. He couldn’t just stand. He doesn't want to just stand idle. He must help. He must help. He must do something. HE MUST DO SOMETHING–

A knife rose high, a blunt force crashed down.

The heavy blade rammed into fresh flesh followed by the shrill shriek. Before the stunned two men made their move against the ambusher that attacked their own, Nero pushed the butchered man on them. It took Nero a moment to detach the cleaver from him, yet Theta used the surprise attack as her chance to buy time. When the man that pinned her loosened his grip, Theta snatched her knife by its blade. A reckless hasty move, but now the tip of that knife had pointed the other way.

Although beaten, she had enough energy to pierced this fuckface on their mug. Another scream roared. The Zwei Fixer flinched, yet he had the desire he needed to fulfill. The desire to do something. And so, as the cleaver on his hand was lifted, it fell down on the last man.

One last cries, and… the house went silent.

…

The voices of two people breathing heavily in the air filled this moment with tranquility.

Two eyes met, one with subtle excitement and another with weariness. That moment was only broken by the thud of Nero who fell into his knees. The butcher’s knife slipped from his grip, his chest thumped erratically. Eaten up by realization, he gulped his spit.

He is too far to back off now.

“What is it, love? Too excited after butchered a man?” Theta sneered while pushing her body up, these screwed up legs staggered to keep her balanced. She heaved a laugh, “I thought y’all fixer supposed to be used by this.”

Reality screwed him to the T once again, but doubled it down now. He knew the shit he had to deal with when he decided to become a fixer, but he never expected THIS is the real shit that squashed him. On his first mission nonetheless.

Should he even return at this point? Would his leader throw him under the bus if his section got obliterated for this mistake? Would this bitch even let him off the hook– Wait, he could just kill her now, right? But at what cost? Would it change anything, really?

“... Lighter.”

Theta tilted her head toward him, “What was it?”

Nero lifted his dread-sunken head. He took off the stick that was already crushed between his teeth, and offered it toward Theta, “I need a smoke.”

She coughed up her cackle at the sight. She dipped her hand and pulled out the lighter, along with a box of cigarettes. Two sticks were pulled out of the box, she gave one to Nero along with her lighter, “you probably couldn’t smoke that one, that’s too wet to light up after you drools on.”

Her words ticked Nero off, but he still snatched it off her hand. He huffed as he shifted himself onto a more comfortable sitting position. He never do this before but fuck it, he light up the smoke just like how he saw his coworker done it. A woman’s laugh burst uncontrollably when Nero coughed up for being too hasty. What a lame person, but an entertaining one at that.

“Take it easy,” the laugh wind down to a giggle. The chef took the lighter from Nero, and lit her stick as well. A short inhale taken before she blew it toward him, “hope we can work well, dearest Sous-chef Nero Westenfluss.”

Ah, what a way to start her shift today. Guess the best meal is always the partner who comes through the back door, after all.

#Project Moon #/blood #/violence #District 23 shenanigans #/mentions of cannibalism #Library of Ruina #Project Moon OC #Tunas Office

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