#vespa nureyev and me were all systems

[penumbrabot]

not for the bot, but Juno is so system you’re so right. I mean he has an introject of Benzaiten in monsters reflection. I know that’s supposed to be nonliteral but I don’t care. Our lady is a system and that’s that. Also, as someone with a headmate who sometimes is Nureyev, Nureyev is also a system. Bro compartmentalizes his identity so hard that they’re separate people and that’s a fact. I would honestly say that all of the Carte Blanche are systems (aside from maybe Vespa?). Buddy is a median system who has a facet whose job is specifically to schmooze. Rita is polyfragmented and has so many fictives from all of her favorite streams. Jet is probably the smallest system of the bunch, having only the host, the unnatural disaster and an emotion holder. I can’t think of anything for Vespa but she certainly might be.

NO SO TRUE THE CARTE BLANCHE IS ALL SYSTEMS

[blue-mood-blue]

Juno’s vision fizzes out right around where the man’s face should be.

He rubs his eye. The interference doesn’t go anywhere, and he sighs. He’s already tired - always is, lately - but this, at least, is not on him. Will the wonders of modern technology never end, he thinks, and there’s a ping at the back of his head of what is probably admonishment. I’m right, he thinks back, stubborn.

The man sits down at his table. Juno leans back; the shadow already obscures his features, but something about not seeing the expression on the face of his unexpected guest makes Juno want to sink farther into the darkness. He doesn’t like being looked at - call it paranoia, call it being shy, whatever. When you have one person in the world - another ping at the back of his head - one and a half people in the world, being generous, most people’s attention loses its appeal.

Juno waits. He doesn’t talk much, anymore. His voice is... uniquely recognizable.

The man is probably smiling; his tone sounds teasing, and that’s about all Juno can glean from the unnaturally stilted sound. Audio distortion, too - whoever this is, the chip in Juno’s neck is throwing a blanket over Juno’s head in an outdated and unneeded attempt at protection. He would get angry, or suspicious, or march over to his partner in crime with a scalpel and demand it out of him, damn the consequences... but he knows the feeling of that shadow in his head, now. The chip doesn’t know why this is happening.

“Do I have the good fortune of speaking to one of the pair people are calling ‘the new Buddy and Vespa’?” The man is tall and skinny, and folds himself into the seat across from Juno like it was left out for him. Juno feels one of his fists clench and hopes the scowl isn’t clear on his face, visible or otherwise.

He’d like to correct the man; he’s not trying to be anyone else. Juno doesn’t speak. His voice would be a dead giveaway.

“Not much for conversation, hm? That’s fine. We don’t have much to talk about.” The man leans closer. Juno guesses that the look directed at him now is one of quiet intimidation; he can’t say, since the features are blurring out like static on an ancient television screen. “You’re here for the Maxine Rutherford job. I’m here to tell you to drop it.”

Juno tenses, and the thief - because that’s what he must be, if he’s here to talk another thief out of a job - must pick up on it, because he chuckles. “It’s a big ask, I’m aware. There’s a pretty penny to be had - that experimental technology is worth an incredible amount of money on its own, and that’s not even touching what might be gained from selling her out to a competitor.” There’s something in the way the thief is sitting, the set of his shoulders - or maybe it’s just the chip in Juno’s neck, setting off urgent warning signals. This is a threat. “But I need you to understand something. Maxine Rutherford is mine. And you do not want to be in my way when I get to her.”

Juno pushes the panic button in his head, the one that will bring Jet running. And he’ll need to run, because Juno’s about to do something incredibly stupid.

“Not if I get to her first,” Juno says in two voices. The thief is still, and if he’s afraid, Juno doesn’t blame him. He remembers the way he felt, the first time he heard the Theia layered under his words.

~~~

The detour wasn’t part of Buddy Aurinko’s plan. Even calling it “on the way” would have been generous; the Carte Blanche should have passed it like it had a hundred other space stations, and it would have. It would have, except for the seven names Rita had been listening for ever since she left Hyperion.

“It doesn’t hafta mean anything,” she’d told Juno, holding her tablet to her chest and looking nervous. He remembers thinking it wasn’t her usual kind of nervous, with fretful energy and too much talking - she’d been holding onto the tablet like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground. “Maybe it’s not even the same person, but. But I was doin’ some listening, you know, and a name came up, and.” Juno remembers thinking she looked almost sick, saying it out loud. “One of those names. And the soul.”

Juno doesn’t know what he thought he could do about it. He’d wanted to try, and when he and Rita went to Buddy, when he’d forced the bones of what happened in Hyperion from his throat and onto the kitchen table during a family meeting... they’d all wanted to try. Maybe that had been his mistake, Juno considers. He could have been quiet. He could have let it go.

It started with an infiltration. The Dogstar Space Station was small, relatively, but it was still the size of two major cities; finding Maxine Rutherford in the crowd would take some looking, with or without Rita’s ‘listening.’ Juno and Jet would go first, bumbling tourists who might, if they were lucky, stumble across a newly-acquired lab space. The idea was to uncover everything they could - location, security systems, layout, plans - and then get back to the ship to decide a next step. Juno packed for a short surface stay. He pulled the last Theia soul from where he’d stowed away in the back of a drawer and, after a long moment and with no clear reason, put it in his pocket. He squeezed Rita and whispered in her ear that he’d be okay when she had a hard time letting go. He kissed Nureyev and promised to call. He walked away and he didn’t look back.

Twenty-four hours later, the siege started.

That’s what the reporters on the hotel’s screen called it, while Juno and Jet sat on the edge of the couch and watched everything change. Some kind of hostile takeover, a grab for power or property or... something. The reporters didn’t know, and if the way they looked off-camera during their reports was any hint, there wouldn’t be time to find out.

If there are gaps in his memory after that, Juno thinks it can only be that he doesn’t want to remember. There’s him, running behind Jet through streets that are eerily quiet and terrifyingly loud by turns. Hiding, and running, and hiding - the thought that it’s a good goddamn chance Jet seems to know where he’s going because Juno is already lost, the shouting of soldiers behind them, the emblem on a ship Juno spends just a little too long looking at because something is wrong. The two of them finding a back entrance to the docks, using the chaos to cover them. The... wreck.

Juno will never forget the wreck.

They must have hit the docks first, is his first thought. It’s the last semblance of reason over the high, keening sound that’s enveloping the rest of his brain - they must have hit the docks first so no one could get out, they must have destroyed every waiting ship to keep the people of the Dogstar Space Station right where they were, because there is nothing but wreckage and broken parts.

Juno might have screamed. It might have been Jet. It might have been someone else, any voice out of hundreds speaking for all of them: loss, despair, desperation. It didn’t matter; the damage was done, and they were alone.

Jet held his hand. Weeks, months - however long they survived on the Dogstar after that, it was with Jet holding his hand and Juno clinging back. There were names they didn’t say for a long, long time but they held onto each other while the soldiers-who-weren’t-soldiers rounded up stragglers and led them to the government facilities that didn’t belong to any government Juno had ever heard of. They were lucky enough to have each other, but it didn’t feel like luck; it felt like borrowed time.

(He said he would call, and he did. He called, once, and he didn’t know what he expected - but he got no answer, and if he dropped his communicator the next time they ran, well, who was going to miss him?)

“I get it, if you hate me,” Juno said into the dark of the shelter they’d found, a hidden nook between big, steel beams of a bridge. “For her. For all of them.”

“I do not hate you, Juno.”

He didn’t know if that felt better or worse. “You should. You’re the only one left to feel anything about it, and they deserve -” He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t need to; Jet knew already.

A relapse, Juno will call it later. Healing is not linear, not when the wounds are torn back open every other day or so, and these things happen. Sometimes there’s a stumbling block on the way to better. And Jet will look at him, ask him if he’s any closer now, and Juno will tell him “a day closer than yesterday.” Jet will nod, because that’s all Jet ever asks of him.

Survival became an exhausting thing. When Juno knew the streets of a couple of districts of Dogstar like the back of his hand, he felt like a rat in a maze, nudged back and forth along pre-determined paths by uniformed sentries and reinforced vehicles. Jet had the kind of patience a person worked for, and Juno could see him clinging to the shreds of it; just shreds, because the hope of patching it back into a serene whole was less likely with every hole the two of them were flushed out of. It had always been only a matter of time before they stood outside of the lab doors and asked each other if they were going to do what they came here for.

Maxine Rutherford was on Dogstar. Maxine had been on Dogstar a long time, plenty long enough to set down roots for a research facility and collect a space station’s worth of subjects by force. If it looked like anything else from the outside, well, that was just a pretty face to convince everyone else that it wasn’t their problem and it wasn’t worth getting involved. The first news reports were of a siege, and that was the last outgoing message anyone received; by the time the theory fell apart, communication outside was an impossibility.

The reality was that Dogstar was a testing ground. Maxine had the Theia, and she had plans.

Juno and Jet became her personal annoyance. And it felt good, for a while; Juno felt alive, Jet laughed sometimes, and at last there was a purpose in being the ones left behind beyond dumb luck and timing. It felt good like another hit felt good, like dodging blaster fire close enough to feel the heat of it on your face felt good, and they would take what they could fucking get. There wasn’t anything else.

(They needed something, in that hell of a prison they were trapped in, with no guarantee that the people they saw were people the way they used to be. The reports they stole were horrifying and complex, and Juno was as frustrated as he was relieved he couldn’t parse the science of it. Bioengineering, maybe, or technology taught to behave like biology - a machine fed raw materials that grew them into circuitry, twisting and growing like roots into a person, along muscles and bones and into the brain and good luck, Hanataba, coming up with instructions to rid a person of an infestation that deep. Juno put down the reports. He pulled out his own Theia, considered crushing it under his foot - looked at the way Jet looked at it and knew he would understand if Juno gave in to that little violence - and then put it away. He talked about close escapes and running guards, and Jet laughed, and who cared if they were running along a cliff’s edge because they needed something.)

A relapse, Juno will call it later. An instinct he thought he’d put away, dragged back out of him into daylight. In hindsight, he could even see it coming.

Maxine had gotten sick of them, clearly; her guards were better armed every time Juno and Jet went in, and the escapes were getting closer. The thought of can we afford to do this anymore had been pushed back by well, what else are we going to do and it was a compelling argument, especially to a couple of people carrying their grief along with them everywhere.

It only took a second. Out of the corner of his eye, Juno saw it: one of the guards unclipping something from his belt. There was just enough time to think he wouldn’t, he’s too close, he’d get caught in the blast, just enough time to see the look in his eye and think if he has the Theia and he thinks this is for the greater good, he would. Just enough time to push Jet forward and press the button for the door.

Jet has to tell him what happened next, and he does, eventually - by stops and starts, in pieces, and it’s the way he tells the story that tells Juno how much it hurt. When Jet opened the door, Juno was... broken. He may have been dead already; Jet didn’t stop to check. He scooped him up like a doll and carried him away, deeper into the lab until he found a room with a reclining chair and a looming machine hanging over it.

Here, he always pauses. “I could not be alone, Juno,” he explains. “I could not lose you too, after everyone else. I could not.”

There were instructions. He needed a Theia and he had one, fished out of Juno’s pocket. He didn’t know if he was making the right decision, so he held his emotions at arms’ length, leaned into his work with the quiet, steady determination required of him in a dusty clinic hidden beneath Mars’ surface, and he knit Juno back together again with filaments of woven metal.

(So much later that it feels like a different life, Juno gets to see it. The scanner picks up the roots that wrap around him, concentrated on the back of his neck at the base of his skull. They’re in his muscles, his bones, around his brain. Tiny, delicate, firm, and Juno can trace the fault lines that would have killed him in their paths.)

Juno didn’t dream, he tells Jet later. When he woke up there was just a heaviness in his mind that he didn’t understand yet, the lab, and Jet standing next to him. When Jet looked down on him, he looked so angry that Juno was sure he was going to scream until he was hoarse - but Jet pulled him close and held him like he was something breakable.

“Never again,” he whispered, and he sounded so pained that Juno was already nodding into his shoulder, agreeing to whatever he said. “You will never do that again. You will not make that choice, for me or anyone else.”

They stayed away from the labs. Jet held his hand all the time while Juno remembered and relearned how to walk, how to move his body, how to deal with the heaviness of his mind. Every time he spoke, Jet squeezed his hand harder... and eventually, Juno just spoke less. He could hear it talking from his mouth. If he had more energy, that would have terrified him. But Juno had other things to be afraid of.

There was something else in his head. It didn’t speak; it could have, maybe - it had the last time it had been there, supplying him with information and rote instructions and orders. The Theia didn’t use words anymore, by choice or by limitation, and it’s presence was still inescapable.

Juno didn’t talk about it at first, the ideas and images that came from nowhere. They were tentative and reserved, and it was so unlike what he was used to that he was half-convinced it was all him and the disjointed feeling was just... the result of shoddily-repaired brain damage. That was a thought awful enough that it didn’t bear repeating to Jet, who already looked at Juno in the silence sometimes like he was asking himself how much he’d broken by trying to fix him. Juno shoved the whispers back into the shadows, and they went willingly; he never met resistance, and that convinced him he was right. His head didn’t work the way it used to, but nothing did; it was another adjustment while they picked their way over the ruined station.

And then he answered a question Jet hadn’t asked.

Juno stormed into his own mind. Jet saw the glaze of his eye, took him by the shoulders and called his name to coax him back out, but Juno was flooded by frantic, overlapping images of radio towers and the repair of something he didn’t know was still floating in his blood. For communication, the Theia said without words. For the kind of communication the chip knew better than spoken language - direct transmission.

Direct transmission.

It was the beginning of an idea. It was the only thing stopping Juno from doing something they’d all regret, ripping the chip back out and to hell with it.

Juno spent a lot of time in his own head after that. He poked, he prodded, he looked for traps. The Theia didn’t have anything to offer - the Theia didn’t have anything to hide. He was given the impression of a long, dark quiet, a nothing; even disconnected and not operating, something in the chip had... stayed awake. Being where it was now felt like a second chance.

There are a lot of other people I’d rather give second chances to, Juno snapped out bitterly, silently. The chip already knew. Hard to keep secrets in his own head.

Juno pushed farther. He pushed out, and sometimes Jet turned to look at him, a strange expression on his face. Sometimes, a radio hissed and whined with feedback, or a screen popped and shuddered, or he and Jet stopped walking when Juno’s view was suddenly too high. Whatever Juno’s head was doing, it didn’t work like it had before - where that invasion used to operate something like a two-way knife, now it was a battering ram, ungraceful and swinging wildly. The repair the machine and the chip had attempted in tandem was a miserable patch job at best, dangerous at worst, and Juno pushed anyway. Jet asked him about it once, and Juno let him into his head instead of answering, invited him right in to see the mess of complicated feelings and uncertainty. Jet reached for his hand.

Every day, Juno found something new. It was the worst kind of game, running up against walls: a new rat maze that he was running mostly alone, but never really alone because he was never really alone anymore. He stuttered like anything over Rita’s name, out loud and to himself. The chip caught stray transmissions and placed them right in Juno’s head, a disorienting mix of updates from the lab and tentative calls from survivors. Some memories took a long time to recall, and some weren’t his. And he ached, he ached with every step while his body healed around him.

They walked. They hid. They planned. And when they reached the dock’s communication hub, Juno leaned his forehead against a transmission tower, exhausted all the way through, and gave everything to one last attempt.

(“Symbiosis,” he says later, so much later in a different life and a different world, the kind of life that has room for beds and money for transport to other places; the kind of life that calls them thieves instead of survivors. Jet looks over at him with a raised eyebrow; if that word in two voices upsets him, he’s good at not showing it - but Juno knows better. He knows. “That’s the word for it.”

“The word for what?”

“For me. For... us.” Juno looks up at the ceiling. Jet knows which ‘us’ Juno means - he knows. “We’d be dead without each other. I get held together and it gets to exist. Symbiotes.”

Jet hums. “You are more than a chip’s second chance to be, Juno.”

“But I’m that too,” Juno says in two voices. “I’m always that, too.”)

They get away from Dogstar. Of course they do; if Dogstar and its destruction couldn’t kill them, if a tossed bomb and losing absolutely everyone and everything couldn’t finish them off, maybe they just weren’t meant for death. One call makes it through the communication barrier with enough memorized confidential information to send several planetary governments scrambling into action and Juno sleeps for a week, but no one besides two and maybe a half people know the connection. Jet carries Juno onto one of the ships sent in to clean up the mess and hides them in a distant corner; they don’t speak, and eventually concerned authority figures leave them alone. When they land somewhere - anywhere - else, Jet leads them away from the ship.

It feels like a rebirth. It feels like a second chance that Juno isn’t sure he deserves, but won’t waste - if not for his sake, for theirs. For Jet’s.

Maxine Rutherford gets away, too. She’s long gone by the time the authorities descend, no doubt trying to sink her roots into some new place, and when Juno picks up that transmission from a closed, secure line and shares it with Jet, there’s no discussion. They’ll do this, one more time, for the right reasons. After that? After that is anyone’s guess.

Jet and Juno waste no time; the flurry of criminal activity in their wake inspires rumors and nicknames, and when Juno thinks to ask Jet if that bothers him, Jet chuckles.

“The legend lives on,” he says. “I think they would be pleased.”

~~~

“I’m guessing that means you poached our contact,” Juno mutters. He’s annoyed enough about the waste of his time that he has no reservations about subjecting his guest to more of his voice - and the thief is unnaturally still, which is satisfying and offensive at the same time. “What, did the people who told you the nickname not warn you about the voice?”

“Let me see your face.”

The flatness of his tone is obvious, even with the audio distortion. Juno frowns; he can’t picture what kind of expression goes along with a tone like that, and it makes him uneasy. “...why?”

“Please.” He hasn’t moved an inch. Juno would wonder if he was still breathing except that he keeps talking. “I just need to... please.”

Not without seeing his first, Juno thinks. He doesn’t have to ask the chip to know that it’s working on it, but it’s the kind of work that’s going to take months of concentrated effort - reclaiming Rita’s name taught him that, and that’s still not a sure thing.

Jet, stop where you are.

I am almost there.

That’s great, big guy, but I need your eyes for a second and if we do that while you’re moving, you’re gonna run into something.

Juno can feel the skepticism; no lying to him in his own head. If you say so, he says anyway. What do you need?

Somebody stole our meeting and I need to see his face - the distortion on this guy is something else. Can you take a look and tell me what you see?

Jet doesn’t answer in words; he doesn’t need to. He looks, and the inside of Juno’s head is quiet for a long time. Juno, he thinks, and there’s a strange echo that usually only comes from him -

“Juno?”

Juno, it’s -

But Juno doesn’t need to be told. He knows. There’s no evidence for him to point to, but he knows the person who would say his name like that, can hear what it would sound like in the right voice in his memory.

Juno leans forward. “Nureyev?”

[solarianvoidthearoace]

Excerpt#3 of JuPeter Vampire!AU

CN/TW: friendly insults/mocking, discussion of past brawl, misunderstanding of said friendly insults/threats, brief implication of Juno being a trophy wife, friendly challenging

“So you are the lady that occupied the best thief in the entire region for over two months now”, she rested her elbows atop the counter, leaning in to scrutinize Juno. After a while she nodded in apparent approval,

“Alright, come right around Pete, the family’s waiting in the back room.” Straightening back up to her full height, she made her way to said door behind the bar counter. Curious and a bit intimidated, Juno followed by Nureyev’s hand. The back room was surprisingly better lit than the main room of the tavern, a small round table dead center, with three people waiting for them.

“Thief! Long time no see, what brought your mug back in here this time?”, a woman with green hair greeted. It was the fond kind of depreciation that carried in her raspy voice.

“As you can see, I brought lovely company I felt the need to introduce to you. Though I apparently was wrong about all of us being criminal socialites, as he doesn’t recall having heard of the Captain”, Nureyev sat down first, in a room where everyone except for him and Juno seemed to be armed purely by habit. Okay, Juno didn’t know wether Nureyev wasn’t armed, it was a habit he shared, after all, but he at least left his revolver in the mansion.

“Told you not to call me Captain, Pete, I never was your captain and haven’t carried that title in years”, the bar owner sat down next, without leaving a chair empty between her and Nureyev.

“I suppose introductions will be in order then, since Ransom’s companion does not seem to have been told about us beforehand”, the remaining person, a giant of a man, joined them at the table, leaving one chair to the Captain’s left and another one between him and Nureyev.

Juno looked cautiously around the table, his eyes locking on that green-haired woman for a bit, before he took his seat next to Nureyev.

“Doctor, would you kindly join us? I remember you being the one to establish the rule that everyone has to sit if one person sits down first. Wasn’t it about fairness in case a fight breaks loose?”, he waved at the remaining chair.

The doctor scoffed,

“And who’s fault is it we needed that damn rule, eh, Ransom? You’re lucky we work well together and my wife likes you”, she slumped into the seat, crossing her arms.

“So, introductions. I think I should disclose something first”, the Captain smirked a bit,

“I know who you brought along, Pete. One Juno Steel, vampire hunter and detective. I had Jet look into him back when he wasn’t yet agreeing with himself whether to ever leave Hyperion. So, Juno, darling, you seem to be the only one at a disadvantage of knowledge here”, the Captain leaned back.

Nureyev rolled his eyes, sighed and smoothed out his waistcoat before turning to Juno,

“Apparently the honors are mine to introduce what I already told you is this town’s ragtag gangle of criminal legends. This red-haired lady here is Captain Buddy Aurinko”, the Captain’s glare at the title didn’t go unnoticed,

“And next to her is her prickly but highly competent wife, Doctor Vespa Ilkay. And last but not least, Mister Jet Siquliak. As to what our areas of expertise are -“ Juno’s raised hand interrupted him.

“The Captain Aurinko you have been talking about like an old friend for months is Buddy Aurinko? The Buddy Aurinko?! And Vespa Ilkay, as in, the Vespa, infamous assassin and other half of legendary criminal duo Buddy and Vespa. You are on first-name-base with the legendary Vespa and Buddy and you didn’t feel the need to tell me?!” The room fell silent at that.

It was Buddy who spoke first,

“So you have heard of us, darling, that’s good to know.” Juno rubbed at his temple,

“Of course I have heard of you! Sure, I worked as a monster hunter, not exactly a career where pirates and thieves concerned me, but obviously I have heard of you. I mean, who hasn’t? Your desertion from the naval fleet was before I even picked up my first gun but, wow, yea, definitely a criminal legend!”, he turned to Vespa next,

“And you’re basically legendary for revolutionizing field medicine, pretty much every monster hunter in business fell back onto your methods to make it out at one point. And yea, I have heard about some of the kills you managed, holy hell, some of that still sounds impossible to me.” When he finished, Juno noticed the others’ expectant look on him and blinked.

“Ah, so I take it you haven’t heard of Jet, darling”, Buddy took over, leaning onto the table and looking at Juno, who shook his head.

“Jet here used to be someone”, she seemed to be searching for a word,

“Dangerous. There are several novels based around what he was up to in his youth but to us the past is past and all you need to know is that he’s a very capable thief and burglar.”

“So, ageless thief”, Vespa spoke up,

“Why did you bring your lady here? If he’s with you it can’t be that he’s desperate to get a job.” Nureyev grinned at that, a hint of danger in the way he showed his teeth,

“If what my grandfather Peter Nureyev accumulated in wealth can sustain me easily enough, why shouldn’t my lady love profit from that as well?” Juno had to suppress a shudder at how easily Nureyev lied about his true name. Also it didn’t sit right with him that Nureyev put up the facade of a rich kid born into wealth. Juno knew better, after all.

Because the memories he had seen of Nureyev were before he even reached adulthood and therefor probably one and a half decades before he was turned. It hadn’t been pretty, Nureyev had grown up as poor as can be, barely scraping by before being taken in by -

“Juno?”, Nureyev gave him a quizzical look.

“I’m sorry, I got hung up on a thought. What did I miss?”

“Pete just mentioned you would like to get back into shooting”, Buddy gave him yet another scrutinizing look,

“I heard you were brilliant with a revolver and I’m sure we might just be able to get you back on track towards former glory. I would be your training partner, coaching you through getting confident with a gun again.” At that she brushed back her hair, uncovering half her face and the eyepatch that had lain hidden behind the red curls. Juno didn’t miss a beat,

“That’s such a great offer, thank you.” Vespa snorted,

“If you happen to really become half-decent again, we might be able to get you even more of a way to kill time. Getting you out of that ratty old mansion and back out into the world. Might even earn enough to gain independence from that cocky, posh rich kid.” Peter simply rolled his eyes at that, probably used to insults regarding his supposedly inherited wealth in context of his career choice.

Juno on the other hand couldn’t help but growl,

“I’m staying with him because I want to. Because of him, actually. I would probably be three towns over by now if we hadn’t run into each other in this very tavern. Unexpected reunion? Sure. But you can stick what you’re implying there right up your -“, Peter clearing his throat interrupted him.

“Juno, dear, thank you very much for defending both our honor but rest assured, Doctor Ilkay was just bantering”, he gave Vespa a side-eye and his tone changed,

“Probably even trying to look into your intentions with me. A protective sentiment, as unnecessary as it may be.”

“But -!”, this time Vespa’s snort and cackling broke him off before he could get on with it.

“Loosen your tighty whities, Steel. You know why you couldn’t place it if Ransom even mentioned me by the name of Doctor Ilkay? Is because it’s recent”, she shrugged, leaning forward in her chair and onto the table,

“I would’ve to be real stupid to get up in arms against the man who financed me finishing my medical degree. Also from what I heard his grand-daddy Peter Nureyev was from a similar shithole to the one that spat me out, tried changing the system back there, became a folk hero and ended up here, somehow.”

Vespa shook her head, as if trying to make sense of that, before she gave a one-armed shrug and gesture by way of what have you,

“And yea, I called Ransom a cocky arse, because he is, but somehow it’s almost as if he remembers his old man’s roots. Posh rich kid, sure, but somehow with those ideals and morals the old Nureyev had. Not that I ever met the man, though Buddy and I sure are old enough that we should’ve ran into him at least once.” From Juno’s point of view there was a whole lot to unpack in just those last sentences. He felt like he needed to ask Nureyev how the hell that even worked out if Buddy was the one supplying him with literally bottled blood.

But for now, Juno somehow felt really welcome between these people he had only heard of before today. And that reminded him,

“I came to town with my research expert and best friend, Rita -“, Jet cut him off this time.

“Yes, Miss Rita has been introduced to us. We offered her to stay at the rooms in the back of this building, living along with us. Captain Buddy already gave her something to work on which is why she is not with us to greet you.” Surprised as he was, Juno made a noise of acknowledgment.

“Darling, if the Registry does get back to her, you’ll be the next person to know of it. As you might have noticed, word travels fast in small towns and even faster in this one with an established criminal network.” At Buddy’s words, Nureyev smirked and rested his chin on his palm,

“The wondrous ways of the Cerberus Province, isn’t it lovely to be a criminal socialite?” His teeth and his glasses glinted sharply in the light of the room, Vespa snorted, Buddy sighed and Juno felt that maybe this was some sort of family to Nureyev. A family that he had been anxious about for Juno to meet them.

A family, as it turned out, that was all too happy about it’s newest two members. Juno and Buddy made a habit and a statement of meeting twice a week for their firearm training. Rita and Jet became rather inseparable, at least Juno couldn’t remember the last time he had seen one without the other around the Lighthouse. Even Vespa warmed up to the occupational monster hunter, in her rough way of showing it.

“Peter is treating you well, isn’t he, darling?”, Buddy casually started between rounds of shooting. Juno raised a brow, for someone who he had barely met two months ago, she was rather motherly towards him in particular.

“He’s taking good care of me, yea”, Juno couldn’t help his smile if he had wanted to,

“To think he had offered me this life a year ago already, it’s a dizzying thought. But I also think I’m fine with how things went.” Buddy gave him a once-over, looking for something apparently. Whether or not she found it, or even what it was, he couldn’t tell when she spoke again.

“You have made yourself quite the powerful friend, darling. I hope you know as much besides your obvious appreciation for the rest of all that he is”, she leaned back on her stool, relaxing against the table behind her.

“The way I see it, it’s powerful friends. Plural. I never would have thought to even get to meet you and Vespa and now see where I’m standing”, Juno shrugged,

“I’m happy and appreciative to have met all of you. Rita was the only family I have known for so long and now I get to have -”, he had to take a breath, wiping at his eye and resting those fingers against his temple,

“I finally have a family again.” From the warm smile Buddy directed at him, she knew that very sentiment, having carved out her own corner of the world, planted her feet and declared it the Buddy Aurinko Crime Family.

“Ransom should be on his way back by now, what do you say we wrap this up for today?”, she stood, walking past him to the target area of what they had gradually made into a decent shooting range.

“Of course after you hit this”, she held up a playing card for him to see, before taking one of her hairpins and fixing it to the target they had been using. Juno saw her counting the steps on her way back, while he slowed his breath and readied his revolver.

“A two-and-a-half by three-and-a-half inch playing card. To be hit from a 32 feet distance”, she held up the rest of the deck,

“I’m not gonna be picky, darling, I just want you to hit it at all. Afterwards you can go, run off to that dear lover of yours returning home”, if her voice was more teasing than usual, so be it.

“Come on, don’t be shy. Two days ago you managed to hit the target at 25 meters distance dead center. A lady who can celebrate is a lady who can get a shot in on a playing card”, with that Buddy went back to the table, taking her seat. Juno huffed, a snarky reply on the tip of his tongue. It wasn’t as if she had invited him on a drink for that bull’s eye or anything, was it now?

[northisnotup]

I'm not saying anything new when I say I think the 2nd class X radical is the ruby7

...

But I don't think the ruby7 sent out the distress signal to Dark Matters - I think the Book did. (and here I am gonna thank @amdis for pulling the script caps for me) and here's why

JUNO: ...this says it’s a distress signal. Sent four times over two hours.

SASHA: And not via the Carte Blanche itself, either — we’ve checked your comms relays and they don’t line up.

After going back and reading through Heart of it All it stands to reason that every distress call matches up with an EMP pulse from M'Tendere's failing weapons system - which doesn't mean that it couldn't be the ruby. After all, it's computer brain withstood every pulse with enough processing left over to figure out when the EMP's were going to be coming and how strong. It could have sent the distress signal and counted on the EMP to cover it's tracks.

But that doesn't make sense.

The ruby7 loves jet, as much as we think it can love. The ruby7 came for jet (and rita) without being told to in Tools of Rust. And the ruby7 is the best guess as to what saved them all from the crash in Ultrabots. For it to call Dark Matter's now, doesn't make sense! Not if it's the class X radical and not if has gone to such lengths for the crew - what could it have had to gain?

How would it have made that call? When the EMP is frying everything from comm calls to buddy's heart?

And we know for certain now that nureyev did not contact Dark Matters - mostly because kabert never has the narrative outright lie to us. Whenever they make a character For Sure say something, its either immediately disproved by another character for dramatic/comedic effect or that character is telling the truth, and we were told several times over the course of this ep that nureyev is not working for DM and couldn't have called them. (We got some juicy tidbits about peter 'when trouble arises, i disappear' nureyev but thats for another meta)

But you know what did have motive, opportunity and means to contact Dark Matters?

The Book.

which rita says:

The Book is a program that finds passwords and schematics and computer addresses quick enough to make even the most beautiful hacker’s head spin. It’s held in high security cuz they say it’s the closest humanity’s ever gotten to a real AI. It can’t think, but it is curious. As soon as it was first turned on it started pokin’ around in all kinds of secret places, gatherin’ all kinds of information it wasn’t supposed to have. No security system could stop it. So if we’re gonna hack into the most mysterious security in the galaxy, I need the Book to help me get in!

It's the closest humanity has ever gotten to a true AI. She says it can't think, and I know what I just said up there about kabert not lying to us through text, but I the thing is! I don't think they are - rita is explaining her limited understanding of the book and she later contradicts herself to say:

RITA: We were so focused on stealin’ the Book and escapin’ that we forgot what it can actually do, Mista Ransom. It’s a hacking program that thinks about a billion times faster than we do — and it’s real curious! If we can set it free and point it towards Dark Matters’ comms jammers, not even they’re gonna be able to keep it out.

So the book MIGHT be able to think independently, which gives it motive. (It also may have been influenced by the ruby in the months since ultrabots but that is pure conjecture) The EMPs were new and scary and probably hurt - if the ruby7's reaction is any indication. Means is up there as well, the book was already familiar with DM tech, and once the book gets into a system, no one can get it out.

And as for opportunity? Rita's job was babysitting the book, but if jet was hurt, and mz buddy was hurt and maybe mistah steel and mistah ransom and mz vespa were ALSO hurt and trapped and maybe gonna die and things keep blowin' up and-!

Well, you see my point. Its possible rita wasn't as attentive as she could have been.

If a 'radical' is anything that could cause significant change to life as we know it. The book is DEFO a radical - maybe not the one DM are looking for, but definitely the one they want.

[alexandenigtscreations]

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Warnings: Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel

summary: 

Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev make a good team. But when a bank job goes horribly wrong, the injured pair are forced to lay low and hope the Carte Blanche can make it back to them in time.

Part 1

It wasn’t cheap, executing the heist of the century that is.  It wasn’t cheap to maintain their transportation or stock up on supplies, it wasn’t cheap to acquire insider information and it wasn't cheap to run a series of operations set as mere preamble for the Cure Mother Prime heist.  If the rumors were true, it would be well worth the trouble.  

It wasn’t cheap, so that’s how they found themselves in the heart of Galactic Stars First Bank, hacking into the on sight servers to relieve the institution of surplus creds.  

The whole affair had gone smoothly, down to Rita’s ‘Juno proof black box’.  The instrument allowed them to disarm the electronic security system with ease and extract the necessary information from the database.  It also sported Rita’s flare for the dramatic by making absurdly cheerful chirping sounds when connecting and completing commands.  

Juno was pacing behind him, restless as ever.  Keeping an eye out for the security.  

“Isn’t that damned thing done yet?  We’ve been here too long.” and he continued his anxious treed across the floor.  Back and forth, back and forth.  

Nureyev gave a non-committal hum.  “Careful not trip dear.  This space is cramped enough as it is.”  A long finger probed the screen of the black box, he wished Rita had thought to install some sort of progress bar-  

Juno had been particularly…. vocal… . about the myriad of concerns that drew his keen eye.  What Vespa might affectionately refer to as his whining .  He gets like this on big jobs.  Nureyev had become skilled at half listening to Juno when he got like this.  Flagging important information and letting the vague grumbling slip into obscurity.  They all have their different coping styles, who is he to deprive the one he loves of theirs?

“And what’s that supposed too- Ahhh!” there was a loud clatter and some cursing.

Nureyev didn’t even turn “I did try to warn you.”

“Ransom-” his voice took on a cautionary note.

“Another minute Detective,” the box had given a warning chirp signifying it was nearing the end of records.  He did not want to withdraw prematurely “the download hasn’t been completed yet.”

“Did Buddy say anything about booby traps?”

The lights danced across the black box, “What?  Oh, no.  There was nothing on the schematics to suggest their presence.”  he went back to monitoring the download, just as his mind sorted this question into the important category.  “Why do you ask?”

“I think I found a floor switch-”

“A floor-” he turned looking down and saw a tile recessed into the otherwise flush floor.  The chamber filled with a hissing sound.  Could it be gas? It was clear, they had to leave.  Now.

They were too far away from the door, some hundred meters away, which meant the vents-  A good thief always had multiple escape routes after all, even in a building like this-  He could see all the possible roots, outlined in red in his mind’s map.  The stares were no longer an option and the elevator shaft would be to risky which left-

“Juno, head for the center vent on your right!” he instructed, hurriedly disconnecting the black box from the server.  He hoped it had enough time to store the data- it had to be enough.

“On it!” Juno sprinted ahead, sliding on his knees to the vent pulling out his plasma cutter and making a few rushed incisions.  Not a moment too soon.  Panels were sliding open on the walls, small tubes slid out of the orifices.  A great ticking sound filled the corridor, getting faster and faster.  Juno glanced side to side then back at Nureyev “Ransom?” he voiced as the ticking reached a fever pitch.  The first flash of color slid across his vision, pining off the tile opposite.  “Ransom, Get down!”

But there was no time!

Juno rushed, flattening him to the floor as the air was infused with cyan blue feathers, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, protecting his face.

“Juno! I-” he panted, having the wind knocked out of him. His detective wasn’t paying attention though.  

“How the Hell, did we not know about this!”  he was shouting over the sound of ricocheting metal.

“Love-” Nureyev said as soon as he could breathe again, “The vent-”

“Yeah.” He rolled off, keeping low and belly crawling through the opening, Nureyev on his heels.  He took a moment to snag a few of the projectiles before receding into the security of the air ducts.  

“Are you alright?” Juno asked over his shoulder.  

Nureyev took quick stock, everything seemed to be intact and there weren’t any unwanted punctures-  That was a stroke of luck.

“Quite, thanks to you.”  He gave an affectionate squeeze to an ankle “and you?”

“Gonna need more than a few technicolored darts to take me down.” he said cheekily “Like a master thief who memorized the map to this god damned maze.  Mind sliping ahead?”

“Well, it’s going to be a tight squeeze, but, I know you don’t mind Detective.”

“Save it, Ransom.  We gotta keep moving.” Juno was right of course.  

“All work and no play is dreadfully dull love.” Nureyev pouted, but couldn’t resist a nip at Juno’s colar as he shimmied past.  Sharp teeth grazing warm skin- he was rewarded with a delightfully flustered expression.  Some of the tension easing from Juno’s shoulders.  Which was good, because he wasn’t going to like the next part at all.  Sure enough, he screamed all the down the shoot.  So much for stealth-

With Nureyev up front, they moved swiftly.  Even with Juno grumbling about giving a lady a little warning.  The vents were mercifully free of traps, but that didn’t mean that the floors they darted across were safe.  Juno took out guards and drones with a few well aimed stuned shots.  

“My Detective, you’re getting quite good at that.” he grinded, with a sly glance through his lashes before disappearing.  

His voice crackled with warmth “Less talk, more cut- Hey, wait for me!”  

Nureyev loved this.  Loved this test of strength, endurance and whits.  The thrill of the escape was intoxicating.  Above all, he loved the company.  He was acutely aware of Juno’s presence at his side, the sound of his breath, the shifting of his limbs, the glances of him between floors, coat tails twirling as he set up for the next shot and the brief moments their eyes met.  He loved what a team they were.  

By the time they got to the ground floor, Juno was breathing hard, his hands slipping on the slick metallic surface.  His grumbling had gotten more intense with every floor dropped, his aim more... unsure.  Fatigue, no doubt.  He wasn’t as accustomed to navigating crawl spaces as Nureyev.  The vents seemed to have treated him rougher than anticipated, poor dear.

Unfortunately, Nureyev couldn’t focus on that now.  No doubt the security would know how they were moving from floor to floor by now.  The building was in full lock down mode, if the red pulsating light was anything to go by.  Sure enough, as soon as they punched through their last grate, a guard shouted into their coms, their blaster trembling in novice hands.  

It was another stroke of luck.

Nureyev dove forwards, latching on to their wrist while they were locked in indecision and twisted the arm up behind their back in a flourish.  “Juno!”

A shot was fired, the guard slumped bonelessly to the ground.  Nureyev relieved their blaster of the laser cartridge and the corridor filled with the reverberations of many, many footsteps.  

“Aw Hell!  How many of them are there?!” Juno griped.  “This wasn’t what we were told to prepare for!”  he shouted to no one in particular.  That was true.  If all had gone according to plan then, there shouldn’t  have been more than two guards per floor-  Even with tripping the alarms, there shouldn't be this many people in the building at this hour!  The bank seemed to be overcompensating for- for something .

“Cover me.” Nureyev said, darting towards the door.  Using his own blaster to incapacitate one unlucky employee of the Galactic Stars First Bank.  The weapon set to stun, to satisfy his lady’s- sensibilities.  

Juno swore loudly behind him, making his insides flip in excitement? Nerves? he couldn’t say- then all he could hear was the air sizzle with blaster fire.  In one smooth motion he extracted the black box from a pocket and connected it to the doors panel.  There was nothing to do but wait for it to do it’s work, to set them free.  Moments like these were his least favorite parts of a mission.  

The seconds ticked by and Nureyev’s excitement gave way to a writhing bubbling mass of anxiety.  He couldn’t shake the idea of being cornered, pinned down like a butterfly in a glass case.  Waiting for a little black box to decide whether or not they were getting out of the building.  

He glanced back at Juno, his back to him, framed in the brilliant flash of blaster fire, like the goddess he was.  A reminder that he had someone to rely on.  They were a team.

The next thing he knew the black box was chirping cheerfully and the door slid open.  

“Juno!” he called, unclipping a few pepper smoke bombs from his chest.  

“R-Right!” he called, hot on his heels.  

They took the steps two at a time, bursting into the open night air, twin moons flooding the city with light.  Harder to hide but but there were plenty of shadows to slip into and the security would also have to deal with night blindness.  It may be enough for them to get away.  

Nureyev tossed the peper smoke bombs into the bank as they fled.  There were shouts and a string of desperate coughs.  The red light illuminating the miasma pouring from the open door turning it into a hellish portal.  

They ran towards the city streets, trying to put as much distance between them and their pursuers as possible.  Juno’s stride, normally a steady pound, was growing fainter.  For the second time that day he heard a cry from behind and a skidding thud.  

Nureyev’s insides twisted.  Turning to see Juno sprawled out on the cobblestones and a red thread of light trained on his back.  A few security guards had made it out, the farthest from the door had their pistol drawn, at the ready.  

Changing direction seemingly mid air, Nureyev sprang back, unceremoniously yanking Juno to his feet by his collar as the first shots were fired.  

He couldn’t help the cry that tore out of his throat, as the seering white pain slid it’s way across his leg, knocking him into Juno.  The man stiffened, bracing him as best he could, concern on his lips-  Now wasn’t the time, the ground sparked with blaster fire.  

“This way-” Nureyev rasped, pulling the detective to the nearest ally way out of the line of fire.  A timer set in his mind, counting down the minutes and seconds before he would really start feeling the wound.  It felt-bad-  Not even a minute fresh and he was already forced to favor that leg.  But he knew he had time before the pain truly kicked in.

Till then- well- they needed to put as much distance between themselves and their pursuers as possible.

“You’re hurt!” Juno gasped, barely keeping pace to Nureyev’s long legged strides as they transitioned from a full sprint to slipping from shadow to shadow.  

“Not- ideal-” Nureyev affirmed through gritted teeth; regretting that his studies hadn’t been as deliberate with the city plans as the building.  They were already off his planned routes.  What's more, the pain was starting to scramble his internal navigation system.  He could just detect the signs of the chase.  

One thought came back over and over again, ‘too slow, too slow, too slow too-’

Whether it was luck or the pepper smoke bombs or the pair’s stealth; they managed to put some distance between themselves and the bank.  Juno was lagging worse than ever, calling out Ransom with a growing sense of urgency.  It was too hard to focus on that though, between the pain in his leg and that dogged need to push onwards, to escape- to-

“Ransom!  Goddamnit- I need a break!” there was something in the way his voice tore that stopped Nureyev in his tracks.  He turned to find Juno sagging against shipping crates, wrapping an arm around his middle and sucking down great gulps of air.

“We need to- to keep moving.” Nureyev said, unable to keep the strain from his voice.  “We can rest later- Detective.”

“Jus- just a minute-” Juno puffed, closing his eye and leaning over.  Nureyev hobbled closer, noting the exhausted lines on his beautiful face and the sheen of sweat.  Apparently, he needed this- Juno wouldn’t ask otherwise- and the fact he did ask was- significant.

“Fine- but only a minute love-” he reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the heat roll off his flushed skin.  That was new.  He moved in closer feeling his concern deepen before he knocked his leg into a crate.  Nureyev hissed in pain.  The pulse of the burn cutting through him with every breath, every step, every-

“Christ Ransom- your leg-” Juno drew nearer, drawing the hem of Nureyev’s coat back to get a better look, but there wasn’t time for that.

“Nothing a good skin graft and laser treatment wont mend-” he gave a tight lip smile.  Juno looked like he was going to say something more, but was mercifully cut off by a call from their coms.

“Pete, Juno, this is Buddy, report.”

“Captain-” Nureyev greated “We’ve downloaded most of the financial files and managed to escape the facility but-” he took a steadying breath, trying to maintain his composure.  “We’re having some trouble dodging the security.”

“Ransoms hurt.” Juno added.

“A scratch.” Nureyev dismissed.  There wasn’t anything to be done at the moment.  

“You were hit by a goddamned blaster sh- ahh-!” his knees seemed to cave and Juno caught himself on the crates.  His eye closed tightly once more as he focused on breathing.  His expression twisting into something sharper- heavier.  

Something was very, very wrong-  

“Juno-” The anxiety was back, constricting his chest, threatening to overtake him as he floundered- then Buddy’s voice cut through.

“Pete’s hurt?”

Fold it away.  Nureyev told himself.  You won't be any use to him if you lose your head!

“It will have to wait till we get to the ship, Captain.” he said truthfully.  

There was a long pause before “Think you can make it to the rendezvous point?” her voice was clipped, almost- distracted.  Like something wasn’t going according to plan.  

“Yes- we should be able to Captain.” he said, breathing deep against the building throbs of pain in his thigh, threatening to paralyze his hip.  He wasn’t about to let Buddy Auranko down because of a scratch.  “Is there something we need to know?  Captain?”

“Hold up your end of the bargain and we’ll do the same Pete.”

Nureyev closed his eyes and nodded “A fair arrangement Captain.”

“Excellent, keep us apprised of your situation dears.  Buddy out.”

Nureyev exchanged a look with Juno.  “Well that was-”

“Odd.” Juno cut in, brows crinkling with puzzlement in that way Nureyev loved.  

“I was going to say interesting but the point still stands.”

Juno opened his mouth, clearly wanting to discuss the exchange more when snatches of conversation drifted their way.  Nureyev hushed him with a hand finger to lips, Juno picked up right away.  He couldn’t hear much but they were throwing around words like capture and shoot, it was clear who they were.  Nureyev hummed disdainfully and Juno’s hand found his own and squeezed.  It wasn’t wise to stay in one spot too long, they had to keep moving.  

“Time to go-” he grasped the Detective's hand, they had to run, they had to get out of- he moved and agony forced his leg to buckle.

[lexicals]

I'M GONNA SCREAM OH MY GOD

Spoilers under the cut, fair warning the first bit is completely incoherent

They're a family......... they're a fucking family and they have stream nights and bicker and love each other.........

Juno is such a buzzkill all the time fhsgdjfj I love him SO much

I THOUGHT BUDDY WAS AVOIDING THINGS BC SHE DIDN'T WANT TO RETIRE NOT BC SHE KNEW SHE WAS GONNA DIE OH MY GOD

MAMA BUDDY NOOOO 😭😭😭😭

Pls be okay ;;

I'm holding out hope that the "keeping landmines in his laundry" joke wasn't actually a joke and maybe the beeping was...... a landmine...... or something....... IDK I JUST WANT TO BELIEVE SHE'S OKAY 😭😭😭

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH NUREYEV ACTUALLY THOUGH THIS IS STRESSING ME OUT

Legit can't tell if he made a mistake or if he was actually?? Trying to kill jet?? My preferred theory would be that he's freaking out at the fact that he's going to betray the family soon OR that he's actually made the decision not to, and it was a genuine fuckup, but I just don't know any more pete my son wyd ;;

MESSY ROOM NUREYEV CANON THOUGH FJSGSFFJHD

Obligatory "rita redacted I love you So much"

"Then I'll have a REALLY good view ;3" RITA THAT'S CREEPY...... ILY THOUGH

He just,, runs up to the weapon,, and gives it a hug,, and starts singing at it,, JET,,

RUBY

Wait

Hm.

No nvm that's dumb this is a sci fi show they wouldn't have a car absorb dead people

Probably

Anyway

I love that ruby is sassing jet now..... eyeliner and posters of sad boys though fjdgjfks

The stuff that buddy was saying about them all having grown but she can't tell w nureyev is so,,, aaaaaa

"Juno, who stands taller than he did in the cerberus province" 🥺

If this was a radio show I would have made a "what the fuck is going on with peter nureyev" jingle by now

"Don't look at me like that, juno - not you" I'm gonna DIE

PETER WHAT IS GOING ON

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I'm actually gonna scream I can't take this 😭😭😭

Okay seriously though who is gonna be narrating the next ep after THAT?? Cause either the format is gonna have to change or they're gonna have to have a last minute twist to save buddy's life I don't KNOW god I'm so stressed. Two weeks is not gonna go by fast enough ;;

WAIT I HAVE ONE MORE:

SHOUTOUT LEVEL PATREON SPONSORS YOU ARE ALL SO VALID

Okay some more thoughts now that I have Calmed Down:

Very interesting to me that jet actually sided with nureyev over vespa. I know he stated his reasons but I would really not have expected that and I wonder how nureyev feels about it

Buddy's relationship with jet?? Really good?? Love them?? Like obvs I don't think she made a good decision in not confiding with vespa about her heart but I'm really glad she has such a solid friendship and support system with jet

I really don't think nureyev fucked up on purpose....... idk maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part but firstly, he respects jet and I don't think he'd go as far as to try to kill him, and secondly..... idk I feel like there were smoother ways of doing it even if he was?? He could have swapped out the plans for an actually wrong set, or hidden them better, or so many other things that also wouldn't have involved putting himself in danger mid-heist, idk the alternative just doesn't sit right with me. But we'll see ig

I think what would be really interesting for me is if this kicked up nureyev's fear of losing his touch again bc he genuinely fucked up and brought that all to a head with vespa right there as well, I'd really like to see that whole situation pop off....... I think this one rly is wishful thinking on my end but idk I wanna see those two work out their issues lol

NUREYEV MAKING NERVOUS PUNS IS CUTE AND FUNNY BUT IT WOULD BE FUNNIER WITHOUT THE MAGGAGE (MAG BAGGAGE)

HEY HERE'S A FUN LITTLE POSSIBILITY FOR YOU ALL CONSIDERING KABERT LIKE TO USE TOYS THEY ALREADY HAVE OUT OF THE BOX: ROBOT BUDDY

This is only half a joke

Okay some MORE thoughts now that I have slept on it

I fully think nureyev is gonna have some kind of breakdown next episode. I think that man is gonna snap like a twig. He's clearly not sleeping, clearly on edge over more than just the heist (his debts, probably), he sounded absolutely, genuinely stunned at the reveal that he'd been looking at the schematics upside down, he almost got jet killed, and given how this episode ended vespa is absolutely not going to stop laying into him any time soon, and it's gonna be even worse when buddy's task for her comes out. Add to that his preexisting anxieties about losing his touch, the way he says to juno "Don't look at me like that, not you", because juno is his main tether to the crew and the one person who he can believe trusts him no matter what, doubting him, and I really do think he's gonna break....

I'm also gonna argue that that messy room is feeling very lived in, isn't it? That's not the room of a man who is planning on cutting his ties and running any time soon. That's the room of a man who's settled - everything unpacked, stacks of books and personal items, idk this could just be me but I feel like this might be a pretty solid indicator that nureyev might have decided to abandon trying to pay his debts in order to stay with the crew...... and if not it's a very fun detail which I love lol

Buddy has been delaying the mission for a year. The last we heard from nureyev, he was telling his creditors that he would have the promised items for them before the year was out. I really doubt that he has enough good will with these people for another extension. Seems like nureyev must be very very close to running out of time here, if he hasn't done so already

I'm still convinced sasha is gonna make an appearance this season!! I know it!! And we also know that dark matters most likely heard rita talking about the curemother prime so like the likelihood of dark matters interrupting the heist/waiting for them with the curemother?? Quite high!! And if that's when we get the juno pov oh boy

[incorporealbagelbeing]

So like. Complied from myself and every theory I've read, I feel like there's a lot to cover in the simulation theory

Only certain members of the crew are present. Given everything I've seen, I believe that everyone EXCEPT Juno and Peter are in this. Will cover the other characters in other points, but I believe only Juno and Peter are not in the simulation because Dark Matters would assume that each person would have their own goals with repairs, but didnt know what Juno and Peter would do. I think they knew that Jet would do most repairs with some help from Buddy and Vespa, and would focus on the Ruby7 (more later). Buddy would be trying to help fix the ship, would be trying to keep the team together and functioning (mistrust due to Shadows on the Ship), and would be planning, analysing, strategizing. Vespa would again help with general repairs and the medical bay, and they would know just enough to figure that she's going to be trying to come to terms with all the stressors in her environment, including mild inconsistencies. Rita would be trying to save systems and computers and food. All this to say, Juno and Peter are the only two controlled because sure, we could say "Peter would be stuck with a broken leg" but they dont know if he would be busy or realize that they were in a simulation. Also, Juno's a detective and has had run-ins with Dark Matters tech, he would know what was up.

The Ruby7 is off. That's a given. The question is: do our characters not know things about Ruby, are our characters actually puppets created by Dark Matters, or is Dark Matters trying to work out how the Ruby7 works as a highly competent vehicle that has otherworldly capabilities, such as a self-driven rescue mission, creation of bombs, the Pelican Bootleg, memorization of M'Tendere's key? I think its the last one. They would have to manipulate people into dropping information to learn.

I think that Rita is ignoring red flags (or! Appears to be! She's smart most of the time! She knows Juno!) Or is messing up colossally (@ernmark posted this, and like, I really see them doing all of this) but I choose to believe that Rita would ignore more dramaticized or odd things like the unknown force pulling them out of the water because it fits with the streams, but I think she realized something was up when Juno came on the scene. This can again be one of two things, with option one being that she noticed his newfound acceptace of computers and has been quietly sabotaging her own plan, leading Dark Matters on, or she outright didnt trust him from the start and came to Nureyev first because she assumed he was trustworthy and she's gonna try to take them down somewhere along the way to make sure she isn't being tailed/ find a way to hack the simulation from inside.

I also think that Nureyev's depression instrument wont be brought up again or will be a pivotal piece, as it all depends on if he plays instruments outside of simulation. If he plays outside of the simulation, I'm betting that he feels useless and not trusted, which is something he tends to put stock into. Therefore, he makes himself useful by learning M'Tendere's key. And Rita is upset by the whole Tools of Rust episode, and her hearing the melancholy music is close to the definition of "depression instrument". If the case, I hope to God he doesnt know the tune yet. Dark Matters knowing the key is bound to be bad. If he doesnt play in real life, I'm willing to bet that Simulation Peter is a way of finding out the key. They didnt know MTendere or their key. This could be a convinient way to learn it.

I'm actually highkey worried about Juno. Reasoning? We didnt hear from him during Tools of Rust. There was a suspicious note along the lines of "well, hope he's ok...oh nvmd" which makes me wonder: is there a chance that Juno hasnt been himself in several episodes? I hate to say it, but what if he s been manipulated by Dark Matters for a while now as a spy? Just saying... But either way, I feel like hes acting weird and Rita's known him long enough to be suspicious. Also this could be me overanalyzing

Buddy knows something is wrong. Shes been to dark places, and she knows every member of the crew. There's a reason she's worried about just getting the ship back in the sky, and its because she's seeing all of the inconsistencies. She knows that Jet knows as much as he can about Ruby, she knows Juno isnt Like This, and she's probably suspicious of the smooth landing. I bet Buddy has more in mind than she lets on, and she's treading incredibly carefully.

Juno and Peter may have also been created to guide Rita in her mission as well. They both support her plan and dont really point out anything that could sabotage the plan (like the fact that Dark Matters owned the tech beforehand? ) and they near unconditionally accepted everything she was doing (which I'm hoping gave Rita the final clues she needed to realize that they're trapped in a simulation. Juno would bring up AT LEAST a few points) and they didn't even try to tell other crew members about their findings. All of this seems shadily like Juno and Peter are cardboard cutouts of themselves created to further the next plot. Hell, we can even add in distractions that would mean that Jet, Buddy, and Vespa were unavaliable.

The whole "oh Morpheus facility...how original" line indicates that its a construct of the game. This is tbh one of the bigger and better clues, not even just for the name. I think that it indicates either that 1. The Morpheus Facility is the real name, or 2. Its a made up mission to assess Rita's skill.

Also as a bonus I doubt that the Sasha Wire we know is involved with this. Sasha has seen corruption in the Hyperion police force and left because of it. Either she's gonna be a cool double agent and is gonna break the whole crew out and help them take down Dark Matters (here's how Rita/Sasha can still win!), or shes been THEIAed or something similar. Either way, I want her to be mentioned or have a reappearance, and I think shes gonna get one.

[hemaris]

Hello I love your penumbra art and I showed some to my friend who finally started listening to Juno Steel and she said that she's been enjoying penumbra fanart but keeps on seeing fantastic Peter designs and then having to ask where his pockets are. This is not at all a criticism I just needed to share the thought because now I'm wondering too

OKAY THAT IS A GREAT QUESTION so here’s a trio of highly unlikely options for your consideration (put into fic format by someone who has little to no experience writing fic and is, to be completely honest, miles outside of their comfort zone):

nureyev’s pockets contain a - for the lack of a better word - pocket dimension

“You’re full of shit, Steel,” Vespa says. “If you wanna brag about sticking your hands down the thief’s pants, go find someone else to do it to.”

And really, Juno has been at the business end of Vespa’s blade before, but twice in one morning is probably a new record. He bristles. “Okay, first of all, would it really kill you to not wave your knife at me every single time we’re in a room together? Can’t we have one conversation where this doesn’t happen?”

“You started it! You got your finger all up in my face!”

“Yeah, well, my finger doesn’t have a long and celebrated history of gutting people when-”

“Keep it civil, sweethearts,” Buddy says from the other side from their makeshift recreation room, where she and Jet are playing a game Juno has never heard of involving a set of oddly shaped dice, some old Uno cards, and, inexplicably, a pineapple. Vespa moves to sheathe the knife, but makes a whole show out of doing it without averting her icy stare for even a split second. Juno has to suppress the fleeting urge to do something petty and potentially life-threatening, like sticking out his tongue at her.

“Second of all,” he continues, his voice only slightly lowered, “you asked! You asked me about Ransom’s - about his pocket situation, I’m just telling you what I know. And for the record, I never said anything about anyone’s pants. Or where I’m sticking my hands. Or, you know, whatever. Shut up.”

Vespa still hasn’t broken eye contact. “No, Steel,” she says, “I asked you how the thief managed to get an entire cupboard worth of Ming dynasty porcelain off of Titan and onto our ship. What you’re telling me is that he has magical mega pockets that are bigger on the inside, which isn’t a thing.”

“That’s what I used to think about teleportation, and mind reading, but here we are.” The truth is that the porcelain thing is a mystery to Juno as well. He has asked Nureyev, of course, but all he got in response was a that’s for me to know and for you to figure out, isn’t it, detective, which is more than a little annoying. “All I’m saying is that it could be an option. Don’t rule it out just yet.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Vespa says. “Ask him to pull, I don’t know, a live rabbit out of his breast pocket, and maybe I’ll buy into it.”

Juno has to roll his eye at that, and immediatey realizes he’s lost their little staring match. Not that it matters - the odds were stacked against him from the get-go anyway, with Vespa having a whole extra eye to look pissed off with. “Fine, whatever. But just for the record - have you seen a rabbit lately? Because I can guarantee you those things won’t go down or come out of anyone’s pocket willingly, regardless of pocket size.”

It might be a trick of the light, but for a brief moment, he thinks he sees the corner of Vespa’s mouth quirk up just a little.

a strategy once used by juno himself: Just Put It In Your Mouth! it’s mother nature’s built-in pocket!

“Uh oh,” Nureyev says once Rita has successfully hacked the giant metal door to slam shut behind them and they’ve skidded to a halt. He tentatively presses a hand to his throat.

“What- are you-“ Juno wheezes from where he’s doubled over, "Are you okay? They didn’t hit you, right?”

Nureyev makes a dismissive fluttery motion with his free hand. “Nothing of the sort.”

Juno squints at him, giving him a once-over, and seems to sag with relief once he sees Nureyev is not actively bleeding. It’s a little bit endearing, Nureyev thinks. “Okay, whew, good,” he says. “So then - what’s the ‘uh oh’ for? We got the blueprints, we-”

“Let’s say,” Nureyev interrupts him, “hypothetically speaking, that there was some ancient and priceless treasure in the vault we took the blueprints from.”

“That’s not really a hypothetical,” Juno says. “There was enough old Earth monarchy junk in there to bedazzle the entire Carte Blanche with.”

"Right. And now let’s say, once again purely hypothetically,” Nureyev continues, “that someone with only the noblest of intentions noticed the Koh-I-Noor diamond among that treasure, and that that someone decided to free it from the monstrously tacky diadem contraption it was stuck onto, because it’s a waste for something like that to be gathering dust in a vault.”

“You know,” Juno says warily, “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”

“The problem is that this outfit, while very stealthy, does not provide a great amount of secure pocket space, so i had to improvise.”

“Oh no,” Juno says.

“So I put it in my mouth, but then the guards arrived and while we were running I-”

“Oh no,” Juno repeats, a little louder this time. “Ransom, you - did you eat the Koh-I-Noor?”

“I accidentally swallowed the Koh-I-Noor, there’s a difference-”

“You ate it. You- Ransom, who would even-”

“Who would even what, Juno” Nureyev interrupts him, “There’s this old saying, something about a pot and a kettle, I believe.”

Juno’s comms crackle to life. “RIGHT,” Rita chirps loudly, “I know the both of you are very busy talkin’ about who ate a conifer and why - and i’m not judgin’, mista Ransom, you eat your greens however you wanna! That’s what my mom told me that time I dipped my green beans in marshmallow fluff - which I wouldn’t recommend, by the way, at least not with the beans, it was a WHOLE mess. Maybe with some broccoli, though, or baby carrots, or - anyway, what I was gonna say is they’re about to crack this door open, so I’m just thinkin’, maybe now isn’t the best time for this conversation?”

“He didn’t eat a conifer, Rita, it’s - actually, don’t worry about it,” Juno says. “Let’s get moving. I’m sure Vespa can figure something out to make you hurl the thing up again. But for the record, Ransom, don’t expect me to ever let you hear the end of this.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Nureyev replies. Juno grins a little, crooked and pretty, and Nureyev’s stomach almost somersaults enough to throw the stupid diamond out.

and lastly - why use your own pockets when you can use someone else’s?

“Nureyev,” Juno says against his neck, “can I ask you something?”

They’ve folded themselves onto Nureyev’s cot, neither of them up for more than just lazing around. Nureyev has been trying to study some floor plans for the last twenty minutes, but if he’s being honest with himself, he has no idea what building, owned by what person, built on which planet in whatever system he’s been looking at. He’s mostly been lost in thought, only grounded by the weight and warmth of Juno pressed against his side. He had thought the lady asleep until now.

It’s a little ridiculous, the effect his own name being spoken by Juno Steel has on him. He’s fairly sure that with Juno this close, he should be able to feel the shiver it sends down his spine, pick up on the stutter in his pulse. It’s okay if he does, he tries to tell himself, it’s okay, it’s only Juno - but at the same time Juno is infinitely, immeasurably more than 'only Juno’ to him.

“Of course,” he replies. “Anything, anytime.”

Juno hums. “Earlier, when we got back from the media bigwig backstabbing competition-”

“It was an award show, dear Juno.”

“I said what I said. Anyway, when we got back, there was something in my pocket that I definitely didn’t put there myself.”

Oh.

“A flash drive,” Juno continues, “that had the name ’M. Valderrama’ engraved into it. And a crazy amount of plastic rhinestones glued to it, but that’s not the point. I didn’t wanna risk it containing a virus and blowing up the ship, so I didn’t plug it into anything. But I did do my research, so I know Mignon Valderrama was at the backstabbing- I mean, the award show, and is the acclaimed director of titles such as ’The Notebook Part 44: This Time They’re All Ancient Mercurians’, the entire ’Ultra Magma Tsunami’ franchise, and the upcoming-”

“The upcoming blockbuster ’Cerebral Cephalopods: Rise of the Mathematician Octopi’,” Nureyev finishes.

Juno shifts against him. "Yeah, that’s the one. Didn’t know you were a fan.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Nureyev replies airily.

“Still,” Juno says, propping himself up on an elbow. “I have to wonder. How and why did mx. Valderrama’s flash drive, rhinestones and all, end up in my pocket?”

“Hmm. Would you believe me if I told you mx. Valderrama tripped, and the drive flew out of their pocket and into yours?”

Juno shakes his head. “C'mon, Nureyev.”

And for a moment, he hesitates. It’s not the best of stories. There’s no real noble, for-the-greater-good, Robin Hood-esque reason for him stealing the drive. He didn’t do it for the challenge, either - Valderrama might as well have presented it to him on a silver platter. Sure, he could make something up, spin a tale, make it sound big and impressive and sensible. But despite the alarm bells going off in his mind, he also thinks it might not be so bad to tell the truth, to bare his throat to Juno just a little. Of course, his own voice echoes, anything, anytime.

He sighs. “I might not be a fan, but I believe your secretary is. She’s been talking about those Magma Tsunami movies for days. They are horrible, by the way - she made me sit through two of them and I can’t believe I’m never getting those four hours of my life back. Valderrama should be liable for damages to my psyche. The drive, as you probably guessed, contains what I’m pretty sure is the final cut for whatever that octopus movie is supposed to be, so I snatched it up for her. My dress didn’t have any pockets, so I slipped it into one of yours. I must have forgotten to slip it out again.”

Juno frowns. “Wait - Rita? Did she ask you to? Because at this point i’m pretty sure she could hack into the studio’s servers in a heartbeat, and rip the whole thing-”

“She didn’t ask,” Nureyev says. “It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. But she wouldn’t have been able to get her hands on this by hacking. Valderrama is famously paranoid about leaks. All of their works-in-progress are stored on only a handful of physical drives until the day of release. One of the drives goes into a vault with a nightmarishly difficult analogue lock, one goes to the executive producer, and Valderrama keeps one of them on their person at all times. I saw my chance, so I took it.”

“Huh,” Juno says, “that's… that’s kind of sweet of you, actually.” He prods Nureyev in the chest with a finger. “And very illegal, and you shouldn’t do it again. But still. That's… yeah. That’s sweet. She’s gonna be over the moon.”

That’s what he’d been hoping for. He smiles, shrugging a little. “We’re space pirates, Juno. Most of what we do is illegal. We got into the award party illegally, and for illegal reasons. Valderramma will make their billions with or without that drive. It’s just-” he sighs again, raking a hand through his hair. “Rita is very important to you, which - which makes her very important to me. She’s been there for you all these years, and she’s never been anything but kind to me either. I’m not trying to buy her friendship or her appreciation, I suppose I just… think she deserves something nice, especially if that something is within arm’s reach anyway. Even if that something is a movie about hyperintelligent squids taking over Mars’ moons.” He lets his head fall back into the pillows. “I know that might sound a little foolish.”

Juno leans into him a little more, cupping Nureyev’s jaw in his warm hand, looking a little bit puzzled and a lot fond. “I’m pretty sure you already know that I love your particular brand of foolish,” he says after a second.

And before Nureyev has the chance to think about what that means for too long, Juno is kissing him, wiping any semblance of thought from his mind.

[nureyevv]

Rita Detective Agency vs The Man Without A Name

When Rita first joins the crime crew doesn’t trust Peter Nureyev one bit

Of course back in those days she knew him by another name: Rex Glass

She hadn’t seen him since he’d stolen that Martian mask all those months ago

And, though the boss had found him annoying, she’d thought he was plenty charming. Sure he was a criminal, but there was no reason to be so judgmental!

She watched Mistah Steel’s face when they saw each other again, though, just before they left mars, and she was quick to figure out what had taken place between them, though

See, there were these face stealin’ moon dogs that lived near jupeter— she’d learned about em in one of her shows— and basically they could mimic any face they saw in order to trick unsuspecting people into becoming their dinner— in one episode a face stealer had taken the face of someone’s beloved BUT when it saw how much Justin (that’s the hero’s name of course) loved his husband the face stealer ended up Falling! In! Love! with Justin instead of eating him and it was all so tragic and romantic, but of course Justin couldn’t go on without the real Mika—

Anyway OBVIOUSLY mistah glass had been mimicked by a face stealer and sworn the boss to secrecy, but even if he fooled everyone else, he couldn’t trick Rita!

So she got straight to work. At first she just tried to use some of those classic face stealer catchin questions, ya know, how many limbs did your mom’s mom have, how do ya feel about boiled eye balls, the usual. Not-Glass was good though, too good

Plan B was less exciting. She just hacked his comms to check his search history for face stealer forums. That was easy enough.

Or at least, it should have been easy enough. Even though she knew Glass hadn’t been involved with Dark Matters for over a year, gettin into his comms reminded her of patching the boss through to that old friend of his who worked with them now. Every time she got through a layer of security codes another popped up in its place. She almost couldn’t make it through.

But she was Rita, so of course she did. Glass’s comms themselves were even stranger than his security, though, mostly because there was nothing there. Who went through all that trouble to hide nothing? She didn’t know, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find out.

Even if the guy had virtually no viral footprint, there was one footprint everyone had. The real kind! So maybe it wasn’t the most “formally worked in law enforcement” thing to do to break into Glass’s room on the ship but... well she was curious! What else could she do?

Hacking the ships door system was easy enough, but figuring out when Glass would be out of the way was much more difficult. Eventually, though, Buddy sent Glass with the boss to stock up on supplies on a nearby planet. They pained look on mistah steel’s face wasn’t lost on her, but she liked to take things one mystery at a time.

Glass’s rooms were.... well they were something. For such a well groomed man he was quite the slob if she was honest. Little papers scattered the room, crumpled up into loose balls. Upon further investigation she found that most of them were just pen doodles, and she could appriciate a fellow artist. She even found a couple that reminded her vaguely of the crew. One stick lady had Vespa’s bright green hair, the next was marked by jet’s enormous stature. She found a few of the boss and even one of herself, which she pocketed.

She moved on to investigate Glass’s desk. Oddly enough, most of the drawers were as empty as his comms. One had a tube of red lipstick, another held a couple of creds. The most interesting thing she found was a book that she saw, when she opened it, had been hollowed out to hold a single knife. It wasn’t a completely unexpected thing to come across on a ship of criminals but still. This guy was weird.

Maybe a bit sad too, though. His room was cluttered, but mostly by trash. It didn’t seem like he actually had a lot of anything except maybe clothes and makeup. It wasn’t a big room, and Glass— or whoever he really was— still couldn’t fill it.

It was as she contemplated this that she noticed a note left haphazardly on the desk. It was written in elaborate cursive script, but the bottom half of it had been scribbled over till it was no long legible. What she could read, however, was enough to grab her attention.

“Juno, my love—“

She had just put two and two together when she heard the sound of footsteps outside the room.

“We aren’t going to be able to work together like this, Peter,” said a familiar voice through the wall. She recognized Mistah Steel’s distinctive tone.

The response was so cutting she almost couldn’t place it. “We’ll have to figure something out I suppose, because I’ve said I don’t want to discuss it. Goodbye, detective.”

The owner of the second voice— Peter according to the boss, though her mind yelled another name— did not wait around for a response. The door to Mr. Glass’s room slid open and her face stealing suspect slid inside. He let out a tired sigh and rubbed his temples. Then, he saw her.

His eyes were wide, but his voice was calm, albeit a bit strained. “Oh, Mrs. Rita. I wasn’t expecting you... Pardon me, but just how much of that did you hear?”

She gaped at him. “It really is just like Justin and Mika!”

His stolen eyebrows furrowed together. “Excuse me?”

“You’re Mika, ya know from the shows! Except you’re not Mika! And you ain’t whoever that Peter is either!”

“I can’t say I’m following—”

“Hush! You won’t trick me with your face stealin tricks! I ain’t gonna let ya fool the boss either, bub, so don’t even try it! No wonder Mistah Steel’s been so distressed, with you walkin around with his beloved face and stolen love notes!”

At that, the thief seemed to flush as his eyes darted towards the paper on the desk. “I knew I should have gotten rid of that... no matter now, though, I suppose the secret is out. I am still curious about the ‘face stealer’ comment, however.”

Gracious as she was, Rita provided him with an extensive description of Justin and Mika’s tragedy. She was used to the boss being so uncultured, but even for a people eatin trickster it was hard to believe he’d never seen it. Unlike Mistah Steel, however, Fake-Peter listened intently and never even cut in with a sarcastic comment. She had to admit, it was pretty refreshing.

When she’d finished, he regarded her with quiet amusement. “Well. That is very exciting, but I’m afraid the actual story is much less interesting. With the cat out of the bag, though, I might as well enlighten you.”

Rita wished she had brought snacks with her cause Mistah Peter’s story was almost as good as any of her shows. Martian artifacts and death trains, a tragic romance— the drama of it all was too much! But most shocking of all was that everything he said made sense with what the boss had told her about his disappearance the year before.

“Huh. So no face stealers then?”

“I’m afraid not,” he answered.

“Well that’s pretty unfortunate.”

Mr. Peter nodded in solemn agreement, but Rita didn’t intend to let her snooping go to waste. “Well, face stealer or not, you have GOT to tell me where ya got this color” she said, holding up a vial of nail polish she’d come across.

He grinned, apparently happy to brag about his collection. “It’s from earth— made from snake venom they say,” he explained. Then, when he saw her excitement, suggested: “you could try it if you’d like. I happen to be a certified nail technician on six planets.”

She grabbed his wrist and led him to the table, the theif letting out a small yelp as she exclaimed “oh boy I thought you’d never ask! I can show you some of that face stealer show too— I got it downloaded on my comms of course. And I expect more inside secrets on the boss, he drives me crazy with the whole mystery man thing, like jeez Mistah Steel I didn’t know your favorite color was such a sore spot—“

She went on in that manner for about fifteen minutes.

Peter it seemed, was a very good listener. Rita liked that in a person since she considered herself a very good talker.

“Oh dear! He didn’t just— Miss. Rita this is quite the show!”

“I know!!” She exclaimed, grinning. She could get used to this, and by the looks of it, so could Peter.

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

"Everyone in this house is sick" with crime family

I love six (6) idiots, and this is the last day I can post a crime family fic before a canon Dynamic is established for them. 

25.: Everyone in this house is sick. 

(I’ve never written from Buddy’s POV before, so this was really fun!)

~~

“I wanna die.” 

“Don’t be defeatist, darling.” 

“I wanna.... ng.” The blankets shuffle as Vespa rolls over. “Go into a coma.” 

With a sigh, I let her cuddle against my side and wrap an arm around her waist. It was not in any of my plans for the entirety of our crew to come down with illness at the same time. Really, if I were able to plan for this sort of thing, this would be positively the last time I would pick. But fate doesn’t care at all for our timing, as Jet feels the need to remind me. 

He’s here too, lying across the couch. Rita had the idea that we should all “crash” here in the rec room. “If we’re gonna be sick, we might as well all be sick together and have fun”, was her exact phrasing, I believe. So now here we are, with Vespa and myself on our air mattress, Jet stretched out on the couch that is really too small for him, Rita in a nest of pillows and blankets she dragged in, and Juno passed out across Nureyev’s lap on the loveseat. 

“This is absolutely my FAVORITEST movie!” Rita chirps as she pulls the next segment of our movie marathon up. 

“You said that about the - achoo! - the last one, darling.” 

“Yeah, but I MEAN IT bout this one, Captain A! This one is for sure the best!”

“Does the acting quality improve with this one?” Vespa grumbles from under my arm. 

“It sure does - it gets EVEN - ch! - BETTER! They take the actin’ from a 100 to a 7000! Ain’t that amazin’?”

Vespa groans loudly. “Nureyev, how many sleeping pills do we have left?”

“Juno finished them off, I’m afraid.” Nureyev runs his fingers affectionately through Juno’s hair as the lady snores away against his chest. “We don’t have another bottle.” 

“Fuck.”   

“Don’t worry, Miss Vespa, I think you’re really gonna like this movie! Promise!” Rita snuggles deeper into her blanket, grinning from ear to ear. I simply reminds myself that, for the outstanding work she does, it’s almost worth watching these films. “Gosh, this is so NICE! All of us just hangin’ out as a family and watching a movie together! Makes me kinda glad we got sick, in a way.” The joy in her eyes makes me smile. I’ve grown somewhat fond of this Martian hacker, and her innocence in the face of all we go through. 

But then the voice on the screen bellows, “MERMAIDS SWIM IN THE VOID OF SPACE” followed by the now-familiar guitar riff that Rita describes as “epic”, and the smile drops. 

We collectively endure “Void is the Ocean” for a half hour or so, disturbed occasionally by the sounds of loud sniffling or Rita squealing in delight. At the movie’s one-third point, she pauses it and turns around. “Hey, you know what I want?” she says. “I could really go for an iced raspberry coffee slushie! Nothin’ better than seein’ a movie with friends AND refreshments!”

“You are sick,” Jet reminds her. “You cannot go buy iced coffee.” 

“Okay, well, maybe I could order it remotely an’ have a delivery drone bring it to us! We’re parked on a planet right now, we should take advantage of that. We really don’t do that all that often, ya know?” 

“I’m not sure that’s advisable, darling,” I say. “We can’t afford to give away our location to a delivery drone. With all the stolen merchandise we have aboard -”

“Okaaaaay, so I’ll hack it! Then nobody’s gotta pay for it AN’ it won’t give away our location!” She folds her hands on the side of the air mattress and looks imploringly into my eyes. “Pleeeeeeeease, Captain A? Pleeeease can we all have coffee an’ snacks together?” 

And there’s something so sweet about this young lady, even if she is the reason I’ve had to endure five movies of the “Void is the Ocean” saga. Oh, why not? I suppose it’s just good that she’s so willing to commit a crime. “Very well, darling. You can get me a large cappucino, hazelnut. A croissant would be lovely, too.”

“GREAT!” Rita excitedly opens the notepad on her comms and taps in my drink like a waitress. “Aaaaaand Ms. Vespa? Whaddaya want?”

“Medium espresso.” Vespa grumbles from under the covers. 

“A medium coffee with a shot of espresso?”

“Medium cup.” She pulls the covers down. “Full of espresso.” 

“That ain’t health-”

“If I’m going to be awake, I am going to be awake,” Vespa snarls, and Rita squeaks and types it into her comms. 

“O-okay! An’ for you, Mistah Big Guy?”

“I will have a large tea. With two sugars. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome! An’ I know how Mistah Steel likes his coffee already, soo.... that just leaves Mistah Nureyev!”

“Get Juno a large,” Nureyev says, still stroking Juno’s hair. “He’ll complain, but he needs it. I’ll have a medium vanilla chai latte with extra vanilla, but as little foam as possible, with soy milk instead of lactose. And honey, not sugar. That’s quite important.”

“I’m... gonna need ya to repeat that a few more times.” 

He does, until she finishes and hops up. “Okay! I’m gonna take this to our main system and hack a drone from there, an’ then we can all have our drinks! Gee, this will be fun, I ain’t ever piloted a drone before. Be right back!” 

She skips away, comms in hand. The four of us look at each other. 

“All in favor of turning off the movie while she’s gone?” Nureyev asks. 

I grab the remote. “I second.” 

[ivyontheholodeck]

Love your writing! For the ask meme, what would you do with Juno/Peter, #60 Poorly Timed Confession and #67 Character in Peril? (I have a hurt/comfort streak a mile wide)

Oh my god!! Thank you so much for asking, this legit made my night. :D I spent about five minutes going “poorly timed confession… peril… confession… peril…” and then this whole thing hit me like a bus.

I might, uh, have forgotten the ‘comfort’ aspect…

~

First rule of thieving, Pete: only use equipment you’d bet your life on.

In Nureyev’s defense, he’d hardly had time to browse, what with the dozen security guards stampeding after him. Not even Mag, rest the old man’s soul, could blame him for hopping the first ride he could find. Unfortunately, it’s beginning to seem like it’ll be the last ride he’ll ever find.

“Engines at one-sixth power and dropping,” the computer’s automated voice announces with disturbing enthusiasm. 

“Vespa,” Buddy snaps over the comm line, “I need a lock on his pod now.”

“The spatial rift’s causing too much interference.” There’s a clang, likely Vespa striking something. “Shitty good for nothing piece of fucking garbage tractor beam.”

“Less cursing, more calibrating, please. Ransom, what’s the status of the CureMother Prime?”

“Snug as an Arkasian dustmoth in its cocoon.” Nureyev strokes a hand over the protective case in his lap, the corner of his mouth curling up. For all their hiccups, this has been the heist of the century. He doesn’t know how he’ll top this one. Heaven forbid he find himself on a decline. Perhaps it’s time for him to consider retirement.

His gaze strays to the spatial anomaly on the viewscreen, pulling him relentlessly closer. Its edges flare with jagged light. No knowing what’s on the other side - another dimension? A wormhole? Pressure beyond his comprehension, crushing him instantly?

“Engines at one-eighth power and dropping.”

“We’re back,” says a voice over the comms, out of breath. “What’s going on, where’s Ransom?”

Nureyev closes his eyes. He’d hoped Juno wouldn’t have to witness this.

“Were you successful?” Buddy asks. 

“We found enough dirt on the CEO to tank their stocks a dozen times over. If Okhra wanted their fingers in any more illegal pies they’d need extras grafted on,” Juno says, impatient. “Where’s Ransom?”

Nureyev swallows the lump in his throat. He’s proud of how even his voice sounds when he says, “Captain Aurinko, my pod’s computers are estimating that I will collide with the anomaly in three minutes.” Which means he needs to prioritize. While Buddy gives Juno the rundown - Nureyev’s firefight with Okhra’s hired muscle, the prototype weapon they’d brandished and regretted, the rift in space-time as a result of the explosion, the screams as the mercenaries were dragged in - Nureyev combs his hair and retouches his makeup. With the necessities tended to, he snaps his compact shut. “If I might make an observation.”

“You know I welcome input, darling, but we’re a bit busy at the moment.”

Nureyev inhales, filling his diaphragm the way Mag taught him. A glass shield around his mind, untouchable. “Captain Aurinko, my pod’s engines are insufficient to propel me away from the anomaly. However, they could provide sufficient force to expel a single small mass. Say, the CureMother Prime’s case.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Juno snaps. “Like hell is anyone sacrificing you for momentum.”

“It’s the reasonable choice, Juno. I can either waste fuel spinning my wheels in a relentless backslide, or I can deliver you the CureMother as planned.”

“No prize,” Buddy says in a low voice, “is worth more than a member of my crew.”

“Were I carrying sapphires and sculptures, Captain, I might agree with you. However, the value of the CureMother is measured not in creds, but in human lives.”

Letting the CureMother Prime be destroyed by the anomaly would doom every individual living with a debtor’s tag or medical bills beyond their ability to pay. Nureyev’s survived for years on the hope that someday he’d be free of his debts. He cannot kill that hope for all the other souls who share his plight. 

Static crackles over the comm line.

Juno’s voice edges toward hysterical in the face of Buddy’s silence. “You can’t tell me you’re considering this.”

“Vespa?” Buddy asks.

“No good, Bud,” Vespa says. Nureyev’s never heard her sound so tired. “I can’t reach him.” 

“Captain, I would ask you to respect what is looking to be my final request.”

“Your pod doesn’t have an ejection system, Ransom. You’ll have to open the doors to release the CureMother.”

Nureyev gazes into the anomaly’s flickering maw. “Frankly, I think that might be the kinder option.”

“Ransom, don’t. We’ll come up with something,” Juno pleads. Nureyev can picture him, desperation written across his lovely face. An eye crafted to burn, a mouth equally capable of snarling and smirking. A sense of humor quicker even than his aim, and a moral core so solid not even the Martian sands could erode it. An arm slung over Nureyev’s shoulder during Rita’s most recent movie night, with a glance checking whether this was okay. 

Nureyev begins typing in calculations. He won’t be able to activate the firing sequence manually once the pod decompresses. “You once closed a door to save the world, Juno. It only seems right that I should open a hatch for the same purpose.”

“To hell with the world! I’m sick of sacrificing everything in the name of doing good. I’m being selfish, and it feels great.”

Nureyev’s fingers tremble on the touchscreen. Just a few more lines - 

“Nureyev,” Juno says, voice breaking, “I can’t do this without you.”

They could have had so much time together. Nureyev wishes he could have brought Juno to see the Festival of Flowers on Brahma, petals on the streets and nectar in the air.

The pod computer beeps as it executes its commands. Nureyev rises to his feet. Securing the CureMother under one arm, he keys the opening sequence into the pod hatch. “Juno. You’ve always been perfectly capable without me. You’d have to be quite a fool to think otherwise.” He pauses, his fingers over the opening lever, and a smile plays about his lips. “But if you’re a fool, that makes two of us.”

The vacuum of space pours in to the sound of Juno calling his name.

[measuringspoon2]

hello i know we’re all doing these

but here are my (finally collected) thoughts about man in glass part one

also, one (1) completely out of context, no-spoilers exchange between @ashellthatsang​ and i listening for the first time

okay, WOW. god BLESS kabert for giving us a high budget fanfiction for season 3

let’s start at the beginning. where the hell is the penumbra??? it sounds like the hotel, but it’s not very long, the music is slightly different, and there’s rain. i’m subscribing to the boat theory, personally

peter perspective

only one juno monologue (which we find out is not actually a monologue) makes me kind of sad. especially after my series relisten, hearing so much juno and especially so much juno growth.... i really love him and i miss hearing his thoughts. however, hearing peter? SO good. i suspect we’ll be sticking with peter throughout the season (though i’m not really sure) because, and especially in season 2, the heavy focus was on juno’s growth through juno’s perspective. the writers kept peter away until this was complete because he needed to confront trauma and learn to be good to his loved ones (see: his relationship with rita) before introducing that knot of distrust and betrayal. now, peter’s arc is going to be his trust issues, so surrounding him with one major source of said issues and with five other new people he is expected to rely on (which is why i expect the heavy emphasis was put on buddy’s buddy system). i think peter may even be more of a main character, however, i like the idea posited by several people that it’ll be rotating perspectives and it could go either way.

peter is obviously a super unreliable narrator. just as one example, he starts by saying he doesn’t bear juno ill will and then continues, throughout the episode, to display his total bitterness and hurt through callous #burns. another interesting thing about the peter primary perspective is his references to mag (and his emulation of mag’s voice), whom we’ve only seen through JUNO’S eyes. everything we know about mag and peter is basically secondhand. it’s deeply jarring as we delve into peter’s perspective to see many, many new layers to him that were unexpected and far different from the man we saw in season one.

also, is it just me, or is noah’s voice way deeper this time?????

juno and jupeter:

i MISSED juno. i know that i listened to the opening of the episode in the trailer, but hearing it for REAL made me tear up hardcore, especially as it was followed by the peter slap in the face.

juno. my favorite. i love him for choking on his coffee three (3) times. so much. i love his insistence on his conditions being upheld. i love him for wearing a dress and six inch heels and F L I R T I N G with probably one of the best minor characters ever. i love him for genuinely being super competent but like... not as a thief lmao, but like--he did do what peter told him to do, sorry peter u asked for this bud & also his voice breaking and getting incredibly indignant--sorry, “livid” per peter’s word--when juno is flirting with nova was..... perfect. absolutely perfect. thank you kabert for literally making my entire year

i was hoping for some sort of coldly professional, distant peter. now i am SO on board with this complete role reversal from train from nowhere--juno’s total mistrust in peter and reluctance to follow him or do anything he’s asked has been flipped on it’s head. “in our line of work, trust is not optional” comes to mind. now peter refuses to trust him. what i love even more is the thing that remained constant--the occasional moments of truce when they really ARE working together. peter giving juno a gun to shoot bad guys from the ruby 7 and the repoire they had there--”well DONE detective!” “yeah, it wasn’t half bad, was it? i don’t think engstrom’s goons liked it though!”--and this time things like juno describing nova’s disappearance and nureyev’s reluctant concession to it being spot on, or their agreement over how good nova’s new haircut looks. the bickering though--”and ohhh, but it shows” yes peter i totally believe that you bear juno no ill will--“because we’re both clearly distracted” “well maybe we wouldn’t be if one of us wasn’t so distract-ING” peter, you are the very picture of forgiveness 

crime family

interesting dynamics i am EXTREMELY excited to see: juno and vespa, MORE juno and rita (now with updated Healthiness!) buddy and juno (because i loved their different brands of quick wit matched together) actually seeing more buddy, juno, and jet, jet and rita (fuck yeah), rita and PETER, peter and jet..... yeah. yeah. so excited. 

hoping to see more buddy/vespa development and relationship honestly, and so happy to see buddy again because i adore her. buddy’s insistence on Crime Family versus peter’s violent desire to work Alone Alone Alone will be so much fun as it comes to head.

that’s all i got folks. i’ve listened to this episode four times and haven’t stopped thinking about it since over twelve hours ago.

[alexandenigtscreations]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Summary:

What if Juno didn't have time to heal properly from the soul incident before he and Ransom went on their first mission in the Aurinko crime family?

__________________

“I recommend we turn our walk into a run.” Nureyev said, not daring to look at the scene Miss Nova Zolotova was making.  “A very fast run, Go!”  and gave a gentle shove to the small of Juno’s back as they broke into a sprint, Juno hitching up the golden skirt as they fled.  His footsteps fell farther and farther behind, glancing back Nureyev saw his face twisted into a grimace “Quickly now Detective!” he called.

“I’d like to see you run in 6 inch heal-ahh!” he stumbled and Nureyev grasped his elbow to keep him upright at the very least.  He’d have to have a chat with Buddy about practical footwear later.  Hopefully. 

The security was closing in fast, one of them even throwing a flashy prop blaster at their retreating backs; the shot went wide.  It was no matter.  There was their ride up ahead, hovering just over the precipice of the floating mansion.  He’d rarely been so glad to see a car.

“When I say jump-”

“What are you crazy?! I’m not gonna-”

“Jump!” 

The pair dove into the transport’s open door, Nureyev never loosening his hold on a screaming Juno’s arm as they fell into a heap in the back seat.  

“Hello.” said Jet “please fasten your seatbelts.”

“A little busy- at the moment.” Nureyev disentangled an arm to pull the door shut.  “For now, might I suggest we make our getaway.”  Several drones shot out of crevices.  While the security inside had to meet aesthetic requirements, there were no such restrictions on the outer team.

“I’m merely pointing out that our escape may be bumpy.” said Jet, nonetheless plugging their route on the controls. Doing a complicated maneuver to avoid a hasty trap.  Juno hissed as the pair were jostled about, clinging to Nureyev in a peculiar fashion “The security is different from the schematics Buddy provided.” Jet grunted, pulling hard on the steering console.  

“They updated the security system at 2 a.m.” Nureyev supplied, throwing out a hand to brace against the car’s side.  

“2 a.m.?  A last minute security switch then.”

“Quite, not the most organized affair, but a switch nonetheless.” It was Juno that found that out, Juno that had saved his overly cocky self from being caught by the cameras.  He was still rattled from the whole affair.  

The lady in question was unusually quiet, the quietest he’d been all evening.  Huddling into Nureyev’s side where he’d landed; a hand wrapped around his middle, breath coming in fast and shallow.  Nureyev was reminded of Juno's less than favorable reaction to their joy ride in the Ruby 7.  Was this his motion sickness?  or- something else- concern welled up in his chest.

“Juno?” he asked softly, struggling into an upright position moving the other with him “You didn’t get hurt, did you?” 

“Wha?  No- it’s juss-'' he pushed away and leaned over “hard for a lady to catch his breath in a get up like this.  Besides'' he winced, reaching into the folds of the skirt “landed on something kind of hard.” and produced the Gilded Globe of Reaches Far with a weak smile, that made Nureyev’s nerves flutter.  The golden circuitry and intricately carved gems glinting in the faint light of the floating mansion.  Nearly losing it after a sharp maneuver from Jet.

“Might I suggest you put that away until we are back in the carte blanche?”  

Once back, they were informed to make a showing for the family meeting to debrief the others on the mission.  Juno disappeared to change, hobbling into the meeting room a half hour later looking morose. 

“So kind of you to make it darling. I was just about to send Jet after you.” Buddy greeted.  

“That dress is a nightmare to get out of.” he shot back.  

“Yes, well, if you need help, all you have to do is ask.  Ransom,” Juno made a funny sort of cough “has just been telling us the details.  It worked for the best this time, but for future reference, when you have an account filled with fake credits, best not draw too much attention to it.”

Juno sighed, collapsing into a seat.  Something seemed to be weighing on the detective, something other than the disaster of a mission the pair had endured.  Nureyev kept glancing over, noting the way Juno sat hunched over on himself, the tired way he recanted the mission, the way he tore their performance to shreds.  They had finally started to work as a team near the end, but before then- well, they both had a lot to say about the faults in their plans.  The only thing Buddy scolded them for was failing to keep her in the loop, and chastising Nureyev for not relying more on Juno.  

They had successfully retrieved the globe but it did not feel like a victory.  

Later, after the debriefing and a private word with Buddy, Juno came to his room to talk.  Well, Juno talked, a long winded apology Nureyev barely managed to listen to as his mind whirred with the information Buddy left him.

“Point is I’m jus- sorry.”  he stopped, eye over bright and wide in anticipation.  

Nureyev couldn’t think of what to say, it was clearly his turn, as it were, clearly the time to speak, but….

“Juno-” his voice came out soft and strained.  

The other man stood unsteadily “I-I’m too late aren't I, damn it, I- I should leave-” 

Nureyev swallowed, catching Juno’s hand in his “Not too late, Juno, not too late at all.” he gave a short humorless laugh “In fact, I can’t think of anyone I would want to stay with more than you.”  

Relief washed over Juno’s face as he pulled away.  “Hell, don’ tell me that’s it!”  He started to laugh, there was something off about it though, “You know how s-scared I was of-of this?  Of us?  Of- ahhh-'' he doubled over clutching his stomach for the second time that day.  

Nureyev dashed to his side “Juno?  Juno what’s wrong?” He grasped his shoulders trying to get him to look him in the eye.  They sank to the floor, Nureyev pulling him close like he had done in Miasma’s compound.  

That’s when he realized what was so off putting about the situation, Juno was in pain, serious pain and had been for quite some time.  Only he’d been too caught up in his own stupid thoughts to notice it before.  Just like the mission.  

The last instance he saw Juno this bad off was during Miasma's experiments in an old Martian Tomb.  

“Juno!”

“N-Nothin- jus feelin a bit woozy-”

“Woozy?” Nureyev pulled him closer, ghosting a hand down his side and- there was something damp there, sticky even.  

“Yeah, being swept off your feet has that effect on a la-ahh!” he curled tighter into his chest, like he did in the car, breathing far too hard.  “Don’ touch.”  Nureyev wasn’t paying attention now, thoroughly distracted by the russet smear cross his fingers.

“Juno you’re bleeding.”  His mind reeled.  Juno had been hurt, but when- how?  Why hadn’t he said anything.  

“Oh yeah, what do you know?  Thanks for the update.”

“Let me have a look.”

“N-no, it’s fine.”  He struggled to push himself upright, “shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh don’t be such a baby.” he pushed Juno back gently so he was resting against the dresser.  Juno let him, leaning his head back and closing his eye in exhaustion.  Lifting his shirt elicited a soft “ohhh-” from the thief.  

He was covered in injuries that couldn’t be more than a few weeks old, judging by the angry red and pink of the lacerations.  The corset couldn’t have been doing his healing process any favors.  Some of the wounds had opened, and Juno had placed large Band-Aids over the top.  Those would need tending to, but the one that was most concerning was one where a bandage was wrapped around his lower ribcage, blood dying the once pristine fabric a deep red.  

“May of had a lil’ more f-fun than anticipated today-”  

“Juno, what happened?” Nureyev cupped his face, gently stroking a thumb over Juno’s cheek bone.  He felt hot to the touch.  It only added to the concern.  

“Stupid really- I hit some space junk- and-” he paused, pulling in air “it hit back.” 

“Space junk-? Never mind that, why didn’t you tell us?”

“I did-”

“What? When?”

“At the meeting family thing.  Wasn’t- feelin my best-”

Nureyev thought back to the family meeting hours ago, he hadn’t been paying attention.  He remembered Juno supporting his resume and spilling his coffee moments after a defiant declaration to Buddy he could drink it.  The situation had been comical at the time, but he remembered how his hands had shook-  Same when he tripped on the carpet to the galla.  

Juno was many things, but he wasn’t a novice to heals or an elegant gown, his performance on the dance floor spoke to his skill.  His impatience to end the auction, and the way he’d bulled him over when he tried taking the globe prematurely.  The way his face had twisted, and how tightly he squeezed Nureyev-  Was that what had done it?  Or was it when they escaped to the transport-   

The truth was, Nureyev hadn’t been paying attention.  He didn’t pay attention and Juno was hurting because of it.

“Wasn’t feeling your best?  Juno, these are serious injuries.”

“N-not anymore-” Juno sighed “And we needed- the map- the Cure Mother-” he drew in another ragged breath “It could do a lot of pe-eople a lot a good.” 

Fear coiled in Nureyev’s gut as he thought of the words Buddy had said to him mear hours before ‘We are not legends- legends are dead things-’

How many times had Juno almost become a legend himself?  How many times had he tried to sacrifice himself for the greater good? 

“I’m going to get Vespa.”

“N-no!” Juno gasped, grabbing hold of the other’s wrist “Nureyev, please- I- I don’t want her to see me- right now.  Don’t need it-”

“Detective, you need more than I can give you.”

“It’ll stop- soon-” he was almost pleading “please, jus’ stay.” 

Nureyev looked at Juno Steel for a good long moment- he loved this man- it was a simple truth that he’d tried to run from- even going so far as to let him walk away on those soft feet in the dead of the night all that time ago-

He could live without Juno Steel- but it was getting harder and harder to understand why he’d wanted too.  

“Oh- have it your way Detective.  But you’re going to let me patch you up at the very least; I will not have you bleeding out on my watch.”

Juno gave an exhausted, wicked grin “Thanks Toots.” 

Nureyev relieved Juno of his soaked shirt and unwounded the bandage; careful as to not interfere with the clotting blood to reveal a truly evil wound.  A jagged V carved into the side of his ribcage, deviating into the vulnerable flesh of his stomach; half-healed bruises blotching his skin.  It wasn’t hard to believe Juno lost a fight with space junk.  The stitching had torn apart, none too neatly either.  

It wasn’t wise to stitch him up again, best let the doctor do the proper patching.  But, maybe, he could hold it off till morning.

He cleaned it best he could, Juno occasionally letting out little piteous sounds as he worked.  It was intimate, he could feel every stuttering breath under his long fingers, every twitch and tensed muscle.  He had him like this before, under more enjoyable circumstances, delighting in the honesty that played across his face-  But now- there were only gasps of pain and watery smiles.  Worry settled heavily in his chest, he’d just gotten him back, and now this-

Fresh gauze packed tight and back the bandage went.  Juno’s feverish head resting in the crock of Nureyev’s neck as he wound it tightly around.  He was given a fresh bed shirt, the largest one Nureyev had packed.  Juno was more muscular than he was, smaller in stature but broader of shoulder.  He was lucky to find anything to fit him at all.

“Okay, to bed love.” and pressed a kiss into his curls, marveling at how easy the term of endearment slipped from his lips.  “You’ve got a doctor’s appointment in the morning.” 

“I- don’ want too-” Juno whined, but placidly allowed Nureyev to maneuver him to the mattress.  He curled on his good side, laying his head in the hollow point of Nureyev’s arm.  

Nureyev found himself hoping that this time, he would stay.  

In the morning- he’d see Juno treated and that would be that.  He ran his fingers along his back in a soothing fashion and fell asleep to his lady’s gentle breath.  

 It was that same breath that woke Nureyev some odd hours later-

[nureyevv]

This job was supposed to be easy. That’s why Buddy had put him out in the field in the first place, right? He wasn’t as experienced as Jet in these things, but they’d said it’d be good practice for when the real work began. They just needed some cushion creds-- it was the perfect opportunity to acclimate him to the life of crime.

It was the exact sort of thing Juno would have normally refused to take part in. He wouldn't steal just to steal, certainly not from innocent people, but it just so happened their mark today was a double decker asshole. The Diamond Dame Casino, just off Saturn, was notorious for attracting the worst kind of people. Juno had never been fond of casinos anyway. He couldn't understand how someone could make a living off of other people’s addictions and still sleep soundly at night. The Diamond Dame was a whole different brand of nasty, though. It was a known location among criminals to make dirty deals without risk of being caught, and at the head of it all was a man by the name of Dallas Olson. He’d inherited the business from his father and had been inadvertently running the place into the ground ever since.

See, the issue with raising a kid around some of the worst spenders this side of Venus was that, more often than not, they don’t shape up to be the best with money. Olson’s bank account said he was in debt to just about every person he’d ever met, and a man like Olson met a lot of dangerous people. Normally, a guy like that would be a thief’s jackpot-- no pun intended. The only issue was that, 90% of the time Olson didn’t even know when he would be making out checks. Most days he tried to put it off until someone pulled a knife on him and he was forced to find some creds then and there. No robber worth his name (or lack thereof) would take a job with that kind of uncertainty.

At least, that was what Nureyev-- or Glass-- had told Juno when he asked why Olson had yet to be robbed blind.

They would have passed Olson by, too, if it wasn’t for the tip Buddy got. It was incredibly vague; all it told them was that Olson was making a repayment today. They didn’t know who he was repaying, how much he owed, or when it would happen. Juno had almost deemed it a lost cause when Vespa had spoke up: “They’re just giving us money at this point, Bud.”

Apparently, when you had a spaceship with four master criminals, a hacker that couldn’t be beat, and an ex-detective, nothing was impossible.

So, they set the stage. Vespa, Rita, and Jet would stay on the ship. Jet would be at the wheel, waiting for one of two orders: get us the fuck out of here or open fire. Rita would handle the tech-- get them into The Diamond Dame’s security system. Vespa would be in charge of monitoring the live footage, watching out for possible threats and keeping the operation in line. Buddy and Pe-- Rex were out in the casino, stationed by each of the exits. When they got word of who it was they’d be robbing, they’d be the ones doing the dirty work.

That was where Juno came in. His role was simple enough: figure out who it was that was walking out with their paycheck.

At least, it sounded simple enough. Then he actually got to the casino, with all its flashing lights and chiming slot machines. Juno could hardly think straight as it was, and there were so many people, more than he’d ever imagined. Being observant, picking one oddity out of a crowd, that was supposed to be his whole thing. He had to at least be decent at it if he was able to make a living off it for all those years, and yet… he had a bad feeling about this.

He couldn’t focus, and if he couldn’t focus there was no way he’d be able to pull this off. Still, he couldn’t tell the rest of them why he was so distracted because his big distraction was one of them. Whatever name he called him, Peter Nureyev, Rex Glass, or tonight’s specialty, Orion Krum, he couldn’t push that man from his mind. They hadn’t talked since their first encounter in the martian desert, not really. Every time Juno tried to catch him alone, to explain or apologize, or something, Nureyev always slipped away in the way only he could. It was obvious he didn’t want anything to do with Juno.

Juno didn’t blame him for it either. He left, and Nureyev moved on, even if Juno couldn’t say the same for himself. Just watch the crowd, Steel.

From his spot at one of the slot machines he examined a few groups. There was one gaggle of wealthy looking women who were far too drunk to be there on official business. Juno crossed them off a mental suspect list. He caught sight of one suspicious looking man dressed in a particularly showy black gown and for a moment he thought he might be onto something.

A moment later another man arrived in a similar sneaking fashion and Juno was right back to square one. The only thing those two were guilty of was an affair. His eyes continued to trace the crowds until he caught sight of that face again.

Stars, that face.

Peter didn’t look like himself tonight. His usual warm colors had been replaced with a deep blue, suit, speckled with silver like the night sky. He wore none of his signature makeup or jewelry, but his expression said he didn’t need it when he had a face like that. He looked like the kind of man that, if Juno had spotted him back on Mars, he would have avoided at all costs: arrogant, rich, and cold.

And, simultaneously, he looked like an undercover thief Juno really wanted to take back to his room after all of this was through.

He shook the thought from his mind almost as soon as it entered. He needed to move. Maybe a new vantage point would show him something he couldn’t see from here, or at least block out someone he very much could--

As he stood up from his machine he only narrowly avoided walking straight into someone. Juno stumbled backwards a few steps and was just about to apologize when he saw the man in front of him. He recognized that blonde hair and pointed nose from Vespa’s lectures. Dallas Olson.

He was young, Juno might have even said handsome if he didn’t dim in comparison to another nearby face. “Apologies, madame,” he said in a thick accent Juno couldn’t quite place, “I didn't mean to startle you.”

Juno inhaled deeply and tried to remember who he was. Tonight, his name was Renee Bruner, a lady with too much free time and enough creds on hand to find plenty of ways to entertain himself. The dress Buddy had provided him made him look the part, long and tight fit, made of a brilliant magenta silk, but he still had to sound like Renee, too.

“No harm done,” he said with a breezy, somewhat bored smile. “You know how it is after you’ve had a few.”

Olson nodded in agreement and extended a hand out to him. Internally, Juno’s stomach dropped. He’d hoped this encounter would be short and sweet. “It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance. My names Dallas Olson. I’m the owner of this establishment.”

Juno took his hand and shook it. “Renee. It’s quite the place you got here.”

“Aw, you’re too kind,” he replied with fake humility. “This may seem a bit odd, but I was wondering if you might do me a favor?”

Juno felt the hair on his arms prickle. “I suppose it depends on the request.”

Olson smiled gingerly. “But of course,” he answered with a slick kind of charm Juno only liked on one man. “My hope was that, if you agreed, you could introduce me to that gentleman behind you.”

Juno didn’t need to look to see who Olson was gesturing at. He looked anyway. Sure enough, Nureyev stood there, pretending to be properly entertained. The tenseness in his jaw said he knew he was being watched.

Juno didn’t know how Olson had managed to put together that they knew each other. They’d been so careful, coming in separate entrances and staying away from one another. Had they received bad intel? Was Olson on to them? Should they call a quits now--

“You… do know one another, yes?” asked Olson, and Juno was relieved to hear the doubt in his voice. So he didn’t know anything for sure. They could work with that. “I simply assumed with the way you have been looking at him that you were acquainted. I like to associate myself with all my new guests, and I had not seen your faces before…”

Dammit, he chided himself. He’d given himself away. If he’d been obvious enough that Olson had spotted him then he was sure Nureyev already knew too. Couldn’t he go two seconds without making a fool of himself?

Something about this situation definitely stunk. Olson wanted to talk to them for a reason, and Juno knew it wasn’t just good business practice. He was nervous, that much Juno could tell by the perspiration in their handshake, but he didn’t know why. At least, not yet.

It was time to change his approach. It’d be more suspicious to flat out deny knowing Peter now, and besides, trying to find their mark without a lead wasn’t going anywhere.

“No, no, you’re right. That’s my husband,” he said and braced himself.

“Steel,” he heard Vespa’s voice in his ear, “this is not the plan.”

Near by, Nureyev had heard the exact same conversation. He would just have to make it part of the plan.

Juno smiled and ignored her, keeping his attention on Olson. “I’ll bring you over now, just let me grab my bag.”

“Of course,” nodded Olson.

Juno moved to the side of the machine he’d been sitting at and grabbed a purple purse. Quiet enough Olson wouldn’t hear it, Juno muttered, “Just play along, alright?”

Gesturing at Olson to follow, Juno led him over to Nureyev as Vespa complained. If Peter was caught off guard he didn’t show it. Juno knew this was a role he could play. It was familiar for both of them, and a bit nostalgic. The only thing Juno had severely underestimated was how much it would hurt to pretend to be his again.

“Hello, love,” said Juno a bit awkwardly. He was learning he really hated undercover work. “I want to introduce you to the owner, Mr. Olson.”

Peter, unlike Juno, never let his disguise falter. It amazed Juno, but then again, maybe that was just what twenty years of practice looked like. His eyes were still ice cold, but he quickly adapted to the new information. He slid an arm around Juno’s waist and pulled him close, eyes still glued to Olson. It was protective but not loving. In other words, it was completely in character.

Juno hoped he didn’t notice how he shivered at his touch and seemed to flourish in the safety of Nureyev’s torso. It still felt so natural.

“Orion Krum. I hope my wife hasn’t caused too much trouble,” said Nureyev.

For a reason Juno couldn’t understand, Olson seemed to get more pale the longer he looked at them. “Not at all!” he said with unconvincing enthusiasm, “I had asked him to introduce us. I must say, though, he seems much happier now that he’s with you. His expression earlier was quite distressed.”

What was his game? If he didn’t know who they were, why was he so invested in them? Juno was trying to put the pieces together. They were missing something but he didn’t know what. Olson was scared, but of what? The answer tugged at the back of his mind and Juno tried to pull it free. He almost had it when Nureyev spoke and broke his concentration.

For the first time in the night, Peter, or rather Orion, was looking at him. There was something in his eyes, though, something that hadn’t been there earlier and made Juno’s heart do a somersault. There was something coy about that look that wasn’t like the character he was playing tonight. Peter Nureyev was peaking through. “Is that true? Were you feeling left out?” Then, noticing his error he added a cool: “then don’t wander off next time.”

That smugness… It felt like being teased by the Peter who loved him, all those months ago. Juno was caught off guard. “I, uh, Nur--”

Before he could say something that couldn’t be unsaid, Peter cut him off. Before Juno knew it Peter’s lips were on his and anything he was planning to say was forgotten. It was effective, that’s for sure. A one hit KO that was over almost as soon as it began.

Peter pulled away. It was barely a peck on the lips, just enough to fluster Juno while not being too uncalled for. Afterwards he turned his attention back to their new friend while Juno was left properly flustered. “Well then. We’ve met, my wife has been returned. Now we’ll be on our way, unless you had some further plan for my time.”

The prickly facade was back. Peter Nureyev had been shoved back inside, and while Juno had much preferred it to the emotionless creature he was imitating now, Olson looked… chipper. The color was back in his face and his smile was unsettling to say the least. It looked like they’d just fallen into whatever trap Olson had set, but Juno didn’t know how.

Something was about to go very wrong. He turned to Peter and tried to get a warning out before it was too late. “This isn’t right, we have to--”

Suddenly, Juno was ripped away and Peter’s comforting presence was gone. In its place was blaster and Olson’s iron grip.

Oh, thought Juno. This explains a lot.

One arm was up against his throat, keeping him from escaping. The barrel of the blaster was digging into his skull, and he wasn’t planning on risking his brains in a struggle. He was facing Nureyev, whose face Juno couldn’t read: shock, anger, fear? Or maybe nothing at all.

“Juno!” said Vespa’s stern voice in his head.

“Verona,” called Olson at someone Juno couldn’t quite see. “This kind man here will be providing you your payment.”

Nureyev raised an eyebrow in his direction. “And why would I do that?”

The answer was obvious enough, though, at least to Juno. Olson had finally dug himself into a hole he couldn’t climb back out of, but he wasn’t about to give in. He had plenty of unknowing customers with the kind of spending money he needed. Olson was smart enough to find an out and desperate enough to risk it all.

All he had to do was find an unsuspecting soul stupid enough to fall into his trap with something more than money to lose. Leverage. He’d almost done it, too, but their was one big problem. The most expensive thing he or Nureyev had on them was the clothes on their backs. No wonder Juno couldn’t figure out who had the check-- there wasn’t a check to begin with.

“Well, if you’d like to keep your wife’s brain in-tact, I would highly recommend giving Ms. Verona whatever she asks,” drawled Olson. Juno really hoped Peter was as concerned with his safety as Olson thought. Around them, heads turned. A few people looked nervous at the sight of the scene before them, but most just turned a blind eye. Olson let a lot of dirty business slip by unnoticed. It wasn’t difficult to return the favor.

“What makes you think I care about all that?” asked Nureyev with that signature nonchalance. He was playing some kind of angle. That didn’t make it sting any less.

Verona shot Olson a look that said he was supposed to have this under control. Panic flashed over his features but he was quick to compose himself. It seemed like the bullet in Juno’s head wouldn’t be the only shot fired if this deal fell through.

“Don’t play games. It's the money or his life,” growled Olson at Nureyev.

“Glass, Juno,” ordered Vespa, “get out of there!”

Juno thought that was easier said than done when there was a gun to your head. They were at a disadvantage-- even if they might have been able to take Olson and Verona in a fight, any sudden movements and he might end up with a hole in his head. They could try to stall until Buddy arrived, but Juno had no clue where she was or if she’d be able to do anything before Olson lost his patience. They had to act alone.

He looked to Nureyev, equal parts indignant and afraid. To Juno, it was still obvious he was in character. That’s right, he thought, we still have the element of surprise.

Juno didn’t know what his plan was, but he knew Nureyev had one. Nureyev always had a plan. So, without thinking it through, he played along.

“Orion,” he said, voice small, “I’m sorry I wandered off before I won’t do it again-- just, just get me out of here. Please. Just give them what they want.

Nureyev sighed. “Fine. What do you want.”

Verona spoke up now. “Ten thousands creds.”

“You’d have to be a fool to carry that kind of money on you!” Peter protested.

“Then give me the passcode to you fucking bank account, then,” Verona snapped back. She was getting irritated, though not entirely at Nureyev. It seemed she was under the impression Olson had a more reliable way of paying her back.

Peter caught his eyes. Did you see that, they seemed to ask, and of course Juno did. The private eye in him was already putting two and two together. She was the weak link. She was their escape route. “Hurry up, Krum,” said Olson through gritted teeth.

Peter chewed his lip. “I will, but there is a… slight complication.”

“What? What could possibly be the problem now?” demanded Verona.

“I’m a busy man-- I don’t have time to track all my expenses and banking, that’s what having a secretary is for.”

“And?”

Peter looked at her like it was obvious. “I don’t know my passcode.”

Juno nearly laughed. Their plan was to annoy Verona into snapping, and Peter was damn good at it. The mirth was, unfortunately, short lived.

Verona shook with rage. Juno thought it was entirely possible she might just combust then and there, and for a moment Juno was terrified they’d miscalculated. He couldn’t help but fear that, when she lashed out, she’d go straight for Nureyev’s throat.

The idea of it was enough to make him feel like he was going to be ill.

And then Verona spun on Olson. “Dammit, Olson, you said you had the money and you’re gonna get it for me. No more games.”

“I will, just wait, please, a few moments more,” sputtered Olson. “They have the creds we just have to--”

“We?” She cut in. “I don’t have to do anything, understand? You owe me. I said I was done playing. You either have what you owe me or you don’t. So what’s the answer?”

On cue, Juno heard the distinct click of a blaster’s safety being turned off, and he got the impression it wasn’t set to stun. A large man stood behind Olson in all black, eyes fixed on Verona. One word from her and his target would be dead.

This was their chance. In his fear, Olson’s grip loosened and his aim wavered. Juno took the moment to slip away, over to Nureyev. The two of them had been almost completely forgotten.

Nureyev’s hands were on his shoulders, sturdy and strong. Juno might have even thought protective if he didn’t know better. The taller man tried to lead him away from all of this so they could make their escape. They could disappear before anyone even noticed they were gone, but…

“Drop the gun, Olson,” instructed Verona. The blonde man whimpered, reserved to his fate, and tossed it at the floor where it clattered at their feet. At Juno’s feet.

No one was supposed to die here. Not even double decker assholes.

“Juno,” Nureyev said at his side, tugging at him now. “We need to go before people start shooting--”

Juno was moving before he could even think of the consequences. He dove for the blaster and shifted the dial to stun. Around him he heard voices, Verona yelling orders, Vespa shouting in his ear, Peter, the real Peter’s, fearful “Wait--.” He blocked it all out.

They were all close to him, he should have been able to hit them, but without the THEIA he was never one hundred percent sure. Three shots, just three shots.

Bang. The first beam went straight into the armed man’s chest. He crumpled to the floor.

Bang. The second shot was for Verona, and he only barely hit the mark. Just in time, too. By the way her hand had gone for her pocket she’d been looking to grab a blaster of her own. He made contact with her shoulder, and though she tried to stay conscious she followed her minion to ground.

Juno took a breath before firing for the third and last time. Olson gaped at him. “Wh--”

Bang. He didn't get to finish before Juno blasted him in the gut.

People were starting to panic now. Threats were one thing, but actually shooting to host was another. Before the chaos could close in, Nureyev grabbed his hand and they were running.

They busted through the casino doors, the cool night air hitting them like pool water on a summer day. “Your aim is getting quite good, detective.”

Juno glanced up at Peter and was met with a smile. A genuine one, at that. “Ah, well,” he answered, sheepishly. He hoped the darkness would hide his blush.

“Yea, he’s a fuckin’ natural,” growled Vespa over their earpiece. “It’d be awful nice if he was as skilled at following directions.

“Oh, don’t be honorary,” chided Nureyev. How was it that he could keep up this pace and not be at least a bit winded. “This job would have failed no matter what Juno did. No reason to place blame.”

“But Glass, I’d hardly call it a failure.” The voice speaking them now belonged to Buddy. Juno had almost forgotten she’d been in the casino all together.

“That so?” he asked between strained breaths. “Where did you go during all that? I nearly died!”

“Spare me the dramatics, Juno, you two had it completely under control. I figured if we weren’t going to get our creds from Olson I might as well tamper with the machines a bit. You wouldn’t believe what kind of money people put in those things.”

At his side, Nureyev’s grin widened at the thought of their loot. “Very clever, as always, Ms. Aurinko. I believe I see you now. You’ll have to show us what you picked up when we get there.”

Sure enough, they’d crested a hill and below, at the very bottom of the incline, was the ship. It was only then that Nureyev slowed his pace.

He met Juno’s eyes, lifted a hand to his ear, and shut off his communication device. Juno didn’t know why, exactly, but he repeated the motion anyway.

Nureyev seemed to blend into the night, his skin the only glowing contrast to the deep navy around them. He looked good, but then again, he always looked good.

There was a momentary silence between them, then: “You know, I’d like to believe you meant what you said back there.”

Juno searched his face for hints but found none. He had said a lot of things in the casino, most of them in the hopes of not getting killed. He didn’t have the slightest idea which one Peter was referencing now.

“I’m… not sure I follow.”

The dark haired man nodded, as if he’d expected that. “You said you wouldn’t wander off again, Juno. I hope that’s the truth this time. I hate to admit it, but each time I lose you I find it a bit more difficult to move on.”

The smile was still present on Peter’s face, but it was distant and sad. His gaze was somewhere else entirely. The ice from the evening’s alias had melted away and Juno was left with someone he recognized. Someone he loved.

“Yea… Yea I think I know how you feel,” answered Juno, “but, if it means anything, I think it is. True, I mean. At least, I want it to be.”

They were close now, and there were still a million unsaid things between them. Peter only said one of them, though.

“I suppose I’ll just have to trust you, then.”

And really, Juno couldn’t have imagined anything better than that.

[nureyevv]

The Thief and The Secretary (...and the detective)

Juno Steel didn’t need to say he loved Rita. Sure, she got on his nerves from time to time but... she was also the most reliable person in his life. That had to mean something.

And Peter Nureyev? Well they’d finally patched things up, and yea, the situation still wasn’t perfect, but they were healing. Even just as a friend, it was intoxicating to have that eccentric, one of a kind man back in his life.

Those were two unwavering truths in a galaxy of uncertainty, but the reality of the first two statements did nothing to make the third fact any less prevalent.

Peter and Rita together? Seems good on paper, but in reality they produce a level of chaos previously unknown to man kind. In short, it was a lot.

So despite what Buddy and Vespa and Jet and... well all of them who said he was being to sensitive! He knew it was more than that.

Yea, maybe he was a bit put out when Rita turned to Peter instead of him to ramble about her shows. Yea, maybe he missed being Nureyev’s go to in a pinch— his partner in crime. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be rational. The two were a force to be reckoned with and he could prove it.

It started out innocent enough. Peter would paint Rita’s nails and do her make up. Rita would doodle on his arms with pens during mission briefings. And, of course, anything they did together seemed completely adorable— honestly the two could have robbed a person stupid and they wouldn’t even know. They’d be too caught up in how Nureyev stood two feet taller than Rita and she’d still found a way to snatch his glasses from his face.

The dynamic was simply too powerful and too unstable.

The thing about Rita was, no matter how level headed a person was, it was hard to say no to her. Even when Juno managed to be blunt with her it still felt like there might have been a bit of a yes in there. The thing about Nureyev was, despite his cool analytical demeanor, the man had a little crazy genius in him waiting to be let out.

They also both had a fondness for drama

This combination was nothing less than devastating.

Two weeks on the ship together and Rita had found that it was impossible to make enough popcorn for everyone on the ship with their microwave. Not enough space for that many bags. Now, if it were Juno he would have just taken turns. Sure it would have taken longer, but there was the same end result

Rita though... Rita wasn’t that patient. But she was also very smart. Smart enough to known the ships energy production system reached about the same temperature as the microwave, and smart enough to know how to get six bags of popcorn there.

And Nureyev? Well Nureyev was just slippery enough to get those bags where they needed to be.

Long story short, the ship had smelled of popcorn for weeks— not to mention Nureyev had nearly lost his eyebrows on the trip back down when one of the bags caugh aflame.

Juno liked those eyebrows, too.

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how two certified geniuses could get into so much trouble. And figuring things out was quite literally his job.

They talked about him too. Nothing bad he supposed, but it was still... frustrating.

Like- like he’ll be minding his own business and Nureyev will mention his pocket toothpaste, unprovoked

It’s none of his business if Juno liked to have emergency access to toiletries? It was sanitary!

And besides, Nureyev had pockets full of junk from the outer rim to the sun and back. He had no room to judge!

Oh, and, of course, there was the peter and Rita movie nights

Rita had just about every show in existence downloaded onto her comms long before they left mars, but the biggest screen on the ship was in the public sitting area just off from the kitchen.

Ever since the two of them had started hanging around each other it seemed like they were always watching something new. With Rita, it made sense. She’d been addicted to shows as long as he’d known her. Peter, though? Juno couldn’t see the appeal of watching a bunch of reruns for a master thief.

It didn’t matter— it was harmless in comparison to their popcorn related highjinks— and yet... well it was a lot of things.

Juno hadn’t got a good nights sleep in a couple days. THEIA was long gone, as was the misfigured shape as Miasma just before she was the victim of an unknowing suicide. He’d been moving on from all that, slowly but surely. In sleep, however, it was difficult to be in control of his mind.

When he closed his eyes he still heard voices sometimes, not exactly like when the Martian pill had still be in his head, but more of an echo of searching through others minds. He saw the face of Yasmin Swift and heard Ramses’s drawl. Bad dreams, that was all they were. He was never actually back in that blood sucking chair, but in the moment before he woke it sure felt like he was.

He was used to the nightmares— their intensity would fade and fluctuate in the months to come. He could handle that. For now he couldn’t help being a bit irritable. Lack of sleep always seemed to do that to him.

So sleep deprived asshole Juno was at the wheel when he stubbled across Nureyev and Rita having one of their usual movie nights a few days after they passed Saturn. Rita’s hair was in two tight braids, platted with Peter’s expert precision. Curlers were scattered across Nureyev’s own head, leaving Juno amazed that his hair was long enough to even hold them. They both sported green face masks that looked like just another skin care tip he didn’t know the first thing about. The biggest difference between the two was that Rita’s mask had pink salmon snack dust near the mouth.

“Y’ want wan?” Rita asked Peter, mouth stuffed full with crackers. Peter’s response came in the shape of a pained smile— one that said he’d fallen into that trap once and wouldn’t go back. He just had to find a way to put it nicely.

“I’m going to have to pass, unfortunately. I’d hate to deprive you your treat.”

Rita seemed to consider this and nod in agreement. “That’s a very good point, Mistah Petah”

By all means Juno could have just kept walking. The exchange was, admittedly, very sweet. With all his complaining, he had to say he was happy to see them both enjoying themselves. But then he caught sight of their film of choice.

Andromeda, the original. He knew the story well.

That was the last straw— Juno knew just about everyone in the galaxy had scene andromeda, but it felt... personal. Like they were watching his life story unfold on screen. It made his skin crawl, and, suddenly, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know how this pair had gotten so close so fast. Some of the most impactful people in his life were gathered in that room. He had a right to know how it’s come to be.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll bite. Someone explain to me what’s going on here,” he snapped, harsher than he’d expected.

Peter raised an eyebrow at him. “Just passing the time, detective.”

“That’s not what I— I mean when did this even happen?” He asked, gesturing vaguely at the two of them. How did I miss it his mind added, silently.

“It’s a small ship, Mistah Steel, we were bound to cross pathes eventually,” said Rita with significantly less snacks in her mouth. They looked at him with that look they both shared— the one that said, even though he was being an asshole, even though they’d make him apologize later, they were more worried about him for the time being. How could two people so incredibly different look at him the exact same way?

“Juno... are you alright?” Asked Nureyev when he didn’t answer. He wanted to be angry, to let himself fester in the self pity of being left out. But then again, it seemed almost natural now.

Of course— of course these two would get along. After all, if they could put up with him, they could probably put up with just about anyone.

If Juno was being honest, they were two stellar picks anyway

He let out a groan and collapsed onto the empty space on the couch right in between them. “I can’t understand what I’ve done to make you encourage her like this. I can’t stand this show.”

“Boss, weve been over this— just cause your taste is the absolute worst and you hate everything universally loved doesn’t mean everyone else feels the same way!”

Juno gave her an unconvinced look.

Nureyev chimed in: “actually, I have to agree with Miss Rita, I quite enjoy this— oh what was it called again?”

“Andromeda” answered Juno and Rita in unison.

“Ah, yes, Andromeda. We didn’t have anything like this in the outer rim.”

This seemed to catch Rita’s attention, her extensive movie knowledge kicking in. “Andromeda was a galaxy wide success, though. Surely you must have heard of it?”

There was a pause.

Juno knew Nureyev had never been in one place long enough to keep up with pop culture, and if he did stick around he wouldn’t have had the kind of spending money on him to see a movie. After that, he and Mag had been too busy trying to save the world to bother with things like that.

Rita, of course, hadn’t seen that side of Peter Nureyev. Juno thought he’d save him the trouble of explaining. “Rita the outer rim was ravaged by war. I doubt things work the same way they do on mars.”

This answer was enough to satisfy Rita. Nureyev, with a grateful half smile, nodded in agreement. “It’s a nice change of pace. I’m fond of this Andromeda, though. I can understand why she became to popular.”

Juno rolled his eyes while Nureyev continued. “Actually, now that I think of it, she reminds me a bit of you, detective.”

Rita snorted from beside him, finding the comparison immensely funny after all of Juno’s comments. She then descended into coughing, evidently having choked on one of her salmon crackers.

Juno... well he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He’d always seen Sarah Steel in Andromeda— in all of North Star’s shows, really— but ever since he had his eye removed things had been different. Not exactly better. Knowing what he did now wasn’t easy, but it also left a lot less room for being bitter over twenty year old mistakes.

And now that Peter pointed it out, he thought he could recognize a bit of his brother in Andromeda, too. They said to write what you know, and Sarah had known her boys, at least back then.

He glanced at Nureyev to his right and Rita to his left. A few months ago, thinking about the old days would have sent him spiraling into a whole abyss of Things He Didn’t Want To Think About. But now? He felt strangely ok.

“You know... it has been a while since I’ve seen it. Maybe I’ll stick around.”

Rita nearly spontaneously combusted at that sentence. Peter smiled softly in that knowing way. “You know, I believe I have an extra face mask, too, if that sounds alright.”

Juno thought that sounded pretty good.