Papers, Please

Dirt climbs out of the van with Talon on his mind and nearly bumps into Aythya. "Oh hey, uh, yeah. Yeah, you, uh--" God! Why is he always so tongue tied around her? "--take care too." He beams at her. "And yeah. Totally. The third floor and me are like--" The van door slams. Dirt laughs and deflates a little, but holds his head high. Well hot damn. She wants me to 'come say hi.' He resists the urge to pump his fist. Saint Lucy's. Saint Lucy's. Saint Lucy's. He commits it to memory. Third floor. Saint Lucy's. Aythya. Third floor. Saint Lucy's--

Dirt looks for a way out of this madhouse–still down one Station ID card, he couldn't help but notice–when he spots Zrain Cloudchaser hooting around outside the cordoned off zone. Come to bail Ol' Dirty out of whatever mess he'd gotten himself into this time. If it wasn't for those blast doors, Zrain would've probably been in there between him and the terrorists waving his wallet around trying to pay for whatever Dirt had broken or ruined or generally messed up. It wasn't that he had money either, quite the opposite actually. Zrain was Poor, poor. Nobody paid his rent. (Well, he lives in the barracks, but you get the point). He had no financial safety net of any kind, and yet, he was just the type of guy who would've given his shirt, and shoes, and glasses off his face, all his books, everything. He'd have given everything he had to help out a friend. Dirt knew that to be true, because Zrain had given everything to help Dirt after mom and brother...after the attack. He'd been the one that told Dirt he had to keep living, had to chase his dream for them. Because they'd have wanted him to. He'd even signed up for the Fleet so that Dirt wouldn't be alone. He had some of his own reasons for wanting to reach for the stars, but he gave up his comfy, cozy studious life to be there for Dirt. And Dirt would never forget it. Not for as long as he lived.

"Zrain!" Dirt hurries over to him and Booster. "How does my hair look? Do I look okay?" He poses for Zrain and at his friend's perplexed look, Dirt pulls him aside slightly, but still within earshot of Booster, and whispers, "I'm gonna be rich, my dude!" Dirt checks over his shoulder that the coast is clear, then spills the beans. "The Lizard Lampoon is paying big bucks for an interview with a hero. I'm talking quadruple digits, baby." He gives Zrain a "discreet" high five. "I figure I'll just say I carried someone to safety and boom, I'm a hero. Cha-Ching!" Dirt does a little money dance as he watches Booster from the corner of his eye. "Cha-ching! Cha-ching! Cha-ching!" He keeps on dancing until hopefully Booster takes the bait and leaves to collect the prize himself.

Yoshi continues to stare down the "boss" as he waddles away. "Fools," he whispers to no one in particular.

He turns to Melly after they leave. "Those guys have the worst vibes. I can't stand them. Trouble-making ass bunch of goons." He tries to shake the anger out. "No more pie, unfortunately. And hey, you leave Yuki alone." He points a serious finger at Melly.

"I don't know, geck, I guess we could get in on that action. Tell you the truth I'm pretty beat, but I'm not gonna turn down extra money." He considers his instruction to meet up with Dirt at the Drop. "Can't run too late though. Got a prior thing."

'Right now though, I just want to kick back, burn some moss and listen to some music or something. You game?"

Dirt clicks his tongue. "Hard pass on the races," he says. "You do you, and all is hooty-hoo, but they treat those dactyls like shit. It ain’t for me." He ponders Zrain’s other suggestion. "Now, you know I’m always willing to grind some ground bitches beneath my boot," he says, tempted. "But once I get started with the nectar, there's usually no one-and-done option for me, especially when rivalries are involved. Next week for sure. Tonight, I got plans though. Can’t be too molted." He notes Zrain's hopeful eyebrow raise. "Not those kind of plans." He swears, Zrain is jonesing for him to find a nice guy or gal and settle down on some quiet outer deck. He's referred to himself as 'Uncle Zrain' on multiple occasions. The dude's incorrigible. Dirt clarifies, "Meeting an old friend. I'll introduce you to him sometime. You'd like him. He's a big mosshead," Dirt adds, "Just like you." He gives Zrain a sideways glance and smirks.

"In the meantime," Dirt says as he squeezes his way through the throng of assembled rubberneckers, "what do you say we hit the simulator?" He adds quickly, "I know we hit it last night, and the night before, but I gotta be ready--we," he corrects, "gotta be one hundred percent perfect tomorrow." His eyes narrow and his brow furrows. "The Peregrine Flyers don't take C students, ya heard? They don't even take the top one percent of the top--" From the look on Zrain's face, Dirt stops and politely gets off his soapbox. He reluctantly offers, "Or." He sighs. "If you're all sim'd out, I suppose we could work on your hand-to-hand fighting skills instead. " He adds more seriously, "You tap out of another brood challenge and Preen could clip your wings, mayn." He throws the choice to Zrain with a head nod. "What'cha feeling, bird?"

Yoshi spots Dirt coming from a mile away. The guy has a way about him. He always had. Just a certain energy that makes him unable to be mistaken for anybody else. If there was one thing boot camp hadn't taken away from him, it was his spark.

"Or maybe I'm just high," he thinks. He gives Dirt a subtle nod when he's sure he's been seen.

He takes the lead and heads down the secret opening first. His feet pad the floor as he lands. He scurries over to a jury-rigged dimmer switch, and waits for Dirt to land. When he does, the dim glow of string lights softly illuminates the compartment beneath the mega ramp that they affectionately refer to as The Drop.

"Hey," Yoshi says. He wonders how long it's been since Dirt's been down here. He also wonders if Dirt can tell that he still comes down here when he needs to clear his head and get away from everything. It had been a lot lately. The only people he knew of that were ever aware of this place were Yoshi, Dirt and...

"Christian," he thinks.

"How you doing, man?"

Dirt chuckles. "Good man." He claps Zrain on the back. "We should probably make it three competitions though right?" At Zrain's confused look, Dirt takes off running down the hall at a full-tilt sprint. He calls back over his shoulder, "Last one to the hexagon is a lazy lizard lover!"

Dirt and Zrain train the night away. First, Dirt dons a pair of punching mitts and they go enough rounds to make his hands hurt. Then they 'rassle. Not wrestle, 'rassle. Wrestling has rules. 'Rasslin ain't got none. It's a lot more like a real fight and more fun too.

After that, they hit the sim, sweaty as all hell, but that was nothing new for the sim. You can only imagine the smell in there if you've never been, but you get used to it after a while. Dirt knows the Devil's Nebula like the back of his hand, but they drill it and drill it and drill it again until Dirt's alarm goes off and yanks him back to reality. "Damn. I gotta go, man, but we got this shit." He daps up Zrain and grabs his wingboard. "Get some rest. We got a big day tomorrow. Big, big day!"

Dirt kicks up dust as his wingboard settles down at the top of The Drop. "Damn," Dirt says under his breath, taking in the familiar surroundings. It's been a hot minute. Old memories flood in and the nostalgia is palpable for Dirt. So many good times here. He checks that the coast is clear, old habits dying hard and all, then goes to pry open the hatch, but it's loose. Maybe Yoshi already beat him here. Hell, maybe Yoshi lives here, he didn't know. He dismisses the thought, then takes a couple tentative steps down the makeshift ladder rungs, then hooks his feet around the outside and slides the rest of the way down like old times. He lands in a pool of diagonal shadows and laughs when he sees Yoshi. "Duuude. This is crazy. Really takes me back." He takes in the room, basking in it. "Actually, I think the last time I was down here was--" His smile slowly fades as he realizes... "Before..." He tries to continue, but can't. He swallows hard. He looks up at his friend and knows that Yoshi knows what he means. Don't think about it. He forces a smile. Don't ruin this, he tells himself.

"Looks just like it used to," he says. "I guess nobody else found it." He flops down in a beanbag chair they'd made out of dumpster bag filled with packing peanuts and interlaces his fingers behind his head. "I'm good, man," he says. "You see these muscles, baby? Military issue, yo. You're not the only mac-daddy around here now, mayn." He puffs up his chest and raises his chin, then laughs and deflates. "For real though, it's good. I've got a real shot at flying," he says, then adds, "as long as I don't screw it all up." He snorts a laugh, obviously kidding. Sorta. "How about you?" He pretends to check if the coast is clear. "You some kind of bigshot now?" He looks Yoshi over. "By the look of you, I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and guess... He thinks. "Rodeo clown?" He fights back a smirk. "No, no--manure farmer, right? You've always been a hell of a shit-stirrer, after all." He nods, approvingly. "It suites you." He breaks and smiles at his old friend. It feels good to give Yoshi shit again, just like the old days.

Yoshi chuckles at Dirt's antics. "Yeah it's mostly the same. Though I've been able to add a couple of things over the years." He makes his way to the corner of the room, bends down and opens a nice looking mini fridge that looks very out of place. It had been a bitch to get down here. "Beer? Seltzer? Juice?" Who says crime doesn't pay? He tosses Dirt whatever drink he specifies.

"Still got Mega Bash Sibs on the TS5, if you feel like getting embarrassed sometime. I picked up some other games for the collection too. Chimera Quest Lavender, Flute of the Ages, Last Story 19..." He sips his beer and takes a seat on the rocking gaming chair near Dirt.

"Damn, baby bird finally got his wings, huh?" Yoshi wondered at just how seriously Dirt took his military career. We all do what we have to do, but he just couldn't shake the visions of Jeremiah's ravaged home. How long before his old friend was doing bombing raids on farms? Creating more Talon cells? "I'm happy for you. You belong in the air, know what I'm saying?" He finds a bag on the old table in front of them and begins rolling up some moss.

He lights up and inhales deeply. "Yeah, rodeo clown sounds good," he laughs. He hesitates for a moment. "I can trust you right?" He lifts his shirt, revealing a twisting dragon tattoo on his chest. The hallmark of an Orochi member. "Not a big shot. Just a geck with skills."

He shifts in his chair, trying to gradually work his way up to telling Dirt what he came here to tell him. "Crazy day, huh? You stick around for the cops?"

He takes another drag, then offers Dirt the za.

"Oo," Dirt says, eying the fancy fridge. "Somebody's moving up in the world, I see." He nods approvingly. He turns his nose up and speaks haughtily, "One bubbly libation please, good sir. Preferably Cosmic Berry if you would be so kind." He cracks it, sips, and lets out a refreshing, "Ahh," as he lounges in his makeshift beanbag chair.

"Whew baby," Dirt says, rubbing his hands together like a supervillain. "You're going down, fool." Dirt grabs the controller, boots up Mega Bash Sibs, and selects a dancing ball of custard named Puff-Puff Jiggle.

He smiles at his friend's words. "Thanks, man." He still cringes a little though. "Honestly, I was kind of nervous to tell you. Wasn't exactly sure how you'd feel about the whole 'military galactic complex' thing, ya know?" He sighs, shaking his head. "I don't even know how I feel about it to be honest, but here we are." He shrugs. "Hopefully I can do more good than bad, ya know?"

Dirt chuckles. "I'm a lot of things, but I ain't no fucking rat." He sings, "Fuck the police. Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em. Fuck the police." He laughs and checks out Yoshi's tat, impressed. "Damn dude. If I'd known their standards were so low, maybe I'd doing seed runs through the asteroid belt right now." He laughs, teasing his friend, but his mind fixates on the word 'asteroid.' He realizes he hadn't said that word out loud in over a year. He hadn't been intentionally avoiding it he didn't think, but, subconsciously? Maybe. Don't think about it, he told himself. Not now. He forces down the flicker of a frown and plasters on a smile for his old friend. "I'm just kiddng, mayn. I'm glad you found your place. Really." He nods. "Just..." He considers not saying anything. "Don't get got." He leaves it at that. "Ya heard?"

He greedily accepts the moss and puff-puff-passes it back. He holds in the smoke and chokes out a, "Yah," then exhales a massive cloud of pale yellow smoke. "Easier to just tell the truth when the truth is that I don't know shit, I didn't see shit, and I ain't never heard of nobody, nowhere, no-how." He shrugs. "I noticed you slipped the collar though," he says, impressed again. "Pretty slick." He narrows his eyes at Yoshi. "And I do believe I saw you destroying official government records..." Dirt is "on to" something. "So I guess these days you're Orochi and Talon now, huh?"

"We all have our own motivations we have to follow. You got yours, I got mine. I know you've got a good heart. That's what matters the most." He takes another couple of puffs of moss and hands it back to Dirt.

When the character select screen appears, he picks random. "Wouldn't be fair to use my main," he says with a grin.

"Don't worry about me, man. The opps aren't anywhere close to my level." When the match ends, he takes a victory sip (or defeat sip).

"I thought you said you didn't see shit," he says, at Dirt's mention of the record destruction. He sets his controller down. "About that... there's something I need to tell you. Well, a few things really. Just try not to freak out about them, ok?"

He drains the rest of his drink and stands up. "You remember Krell and Seamus? They were in high school back when we were in junior high. Couple of real assholes. Used to make fun of me relentlessly. Humiliate me, torture me, beat the shit out of me. I couldn't fight back then so they got away with it. Steg offered to whoop their asses but making him handle my problem would've felt worse than the beatings." He grabs another drink out of the fridge. "You remember how they disappeared all of a sudden? You ever wonder why?"

Yoshi focuses deeply, and all of a sudden the room becomes a dark alleyway behind Dirt and Yoshi's middle school. They watch, like ghosts, as the scene plays out before them:

***

An 11 year old Yoshi rushes into the alley clutching a book to his chest, nervous sweat beading on his forehead. Mocking laughter emits from either side of the alleyway as two older Kebo kids step into view: Krell and Seamus.

"What's the matter, little hot blood? You scared?"

Yoshi backs away from the approaching Krell, only to bump into the chest of Seamus, who immediately pushes him onto the ground. His book flies into the air.

"Where you gonna run? Back to that blood traitor old lady?"

Yoshi starts to crawl over to his book, but is interrupted by a kick to his stomach.

Krell draws his Kebo-tet. "You see this? This is my little problem solver."

Seamus grabs Yoshi by the throat and starts to raise him up.

"My dad says the biggest problems on this station are birds, hot bloods and blood traitors." Krell steps toward Yoshi and makes a couple of light slices around his torso. Red stains begin to form on his shirt. "Hey, I've got an idea! Why don't we join you in paying old Granny Modo a visit? Maybe we could solve two problems at once."

Something changes in kid Yoshi's eyes. Seamus and Krell begin to scream. Both fall to the ground, suddenly terrified by some unknown force. They claw at their scales, crying and screaming, reduced to animalistic horror and desperation. Kid Yoshi stands over them with a flat expression.

***

The Dreaming ends. Yoshi and Dirt return to their little ramshackle hideout. "They never really recovered. Got shipped off to a care facility on Kebos from what I heard."

He returns to his gaming chair. "I call it The Dreaming. I can show people visions. Scenes from the past, worst fears, greatest desires, whatever I want really. And it's pretty easy to find out, because I can also read people's minds. See, I'm a psionic. Hence the record burning."

"Anyway, now that I've told you that, I guess I can get to the real reason why I wanted you to meet me here today. Besides catching up." He takes a breath, and then a ridiculously deep puff of moss. "Those Talon dudes from earlier today, Ruby Sun? I read their minds. I had to find out who was on their list, just in case something really bad goes down. Christian's name was on it."

Dirt blinks.

"Christian?" He laughs. "That’s pretty fucked up, man." He tries to shake it off. "Like, really. Pretty not cool."

His smile fades as he fights his anger towards his friend’s…what, joke? Pretty fucking funny.

"Yeahh. I think I’m gonna go." He gets up. "It was good to see you." Was it though? Seriously. What the fuck was that?

He grabs a rung of the ladder, hesitates, then turns back to tell his old friend exactly where he can go fuck himself, but something about Yoshi’s eyes, the sincerity in them, unnerves Dirt. He scowls and narrows his eyes.

"You can read people's minds, huh?" Dirt says as a challenge. "What am I thinking right now?"

Go fuck yourself, you stupid fucking piece of... He trails off. His face probably says, "go fuck yourself" all on it's own. It had to be something Yoshi couldn't possible deduce on his own. Dirt focuses his mind on an emo girl, Cindy Scales, that Yoshi had a crush on a few years back. He repeats in his head, I french kissed Cindy Scales in the theatre box office junior year. Then again, and again. I french kissed Cindy Scales...

Yoshi watches in disbelief at Dirt's reaction.

"Fuck are you looking at me like you're mad at me for? Look, I didn't have to tell you any of this shit."

He pauses.

"I don't like to read friend's minds. It feels like an invasion. But if you're gonna call me a liar, so be it..."

He opens his third eye to gently prod at what Dirt is thinking.His heart sinks into his gut. The image is clear. Dirt and Cindy, beak to maw. Feathers flying, scales shining. He asks her to be his girlfriend. She denies him, but the makeout sesh resumes.

Back in reality, Yoshi's sorrow turns into rage.

"You turkey! You knew I liked her!" He brushes his green dreads back, bracing his throbbing head. "I ought to knock that beak right off your face..." He stands. "And you know what? I think I will! RAAAHHHHH!"

He rushes Dirt, ready to punch him right in the dome, but stops suddenly. "AAAAaaauuuuhhh what the hell am I doing? Things would've never worked out between me and Cindy. I can't be held down. I'm a lone cowboy. Just a matter of time before I'd have to hit that dusty trail."

He sighs. "Do you believe me now?! What else do I need to do? I could show you back in high school when Sally Mander told everybody you have a weird cloaca. Just give me the sign and I'll use my PSIONIC FUCKING POWERS."

He takes a few breaths to calm himself down. "Look, Christian's name was on their list. It's possible that he was just one of the decoy identities, but its also possible he's not. One of the Ruby Sun birds told me I could meet up with him if he made it out alive. That's the best hope of finding out more information. I know he's your brother and it's a sensitive topic, but he was my friend too. I wouldn't joke about some shit like this. You going to join me for that tomorrow night or are you going to be too busy betraying your friends' trust?"

Dirt puffs up his breast and flares his nostril slits. He eyes Yoshi for a moment, then says, "Sally really said that shit?" He gives his friend a sideways smirk and deflates little.

He shakes his head as the tension eases out of him and is replaced with guilt and shame. He sighs. "Sorry, I, uh--" He rakes a hand through his crest of feathers. "I should've known you wouldn't say some shit like that. I'm an idiot, alright? It's just been a long time, and people change, and, I just..." He gives up on trying to explain and finally just looks up to meet Yoshi's eye. "My bad, yo," he says. "My bad." He hopes that'll squash shit like it used to.

"I still don't understand why Christian's name would be..." He realizes, "And shit. You've got fucking super powers?" He flops down in the dumpster bag chair again. "God damn, dude. So much to process here." He realizes again, "And while were at it, my cloaca is tight, alright? Pretty as a freaking peach, okay? Nothing weird about it. Nothing strange. Nothing weird at all. Nothing." He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, butthurt, until his mind comes back around full circle.

Christian.

His brother couldn't possibly be alive. Dirt watched him die. He can't-- "I don't care what it takes, I'll kill every one of those Talon bitches if they're using his name for some crazy terrorist shit." He can't even hope his brother is alive. That'd mean... It'd mean that they'd left him there. He'd left Christian to suffer god knows what fate at the hands of those fanatical assholes. He looks up at Yoshi. "Oh, I'll be there," he says, menacingly, his temple throbbing, jaw clenched.

Dirt collects his emotions, then gets up and rifles through a rusty, old tool box and finds a pair of bolt cutters. "And you trusted me," he says, slicing a sizeable gash across the center of his own palm. "So the least I can do is return the favor." He lets the blood pool in his cupped hand before covering it with the other hand and rubbing them together like he's warming them by a fire, then spreads them wide and says, "Ta-da!" Both hands are coated in sticky, warm blood, but the wound on his right hand has been replaced with a fleshly-stitched, pink scar.

Yoshi softens. "It's all good. And look, Sally is a hater. Don't worry about your cloaca."

He returns to his own seat. "Just promise me that you'll be cool. Don't go in there all angry looking for a fight. We gotta do this the right way."

He stands again when he sees Dirt grab the bolt cutters. "Dirt, man what are you doing? Geck, chill!" He watches as Dirt cuts himself. "Dude, calm down it's ok I forgive y-" The cut is suddenly gone.

Yoshi approaches Dirt and takes a closer look at his hands. "Illusion? Are you psionic too?" He takes Dirt's hand and smudges it with his thumb. The blood is real. "Not illusion. Then...what is it? What's your ability? When did you get it? How?"

Dirt shrugs. "Beats me." He wipes his hands onto a crusty old towel and stains it red. "I can just..." He mulls it over. "I don't know... feel injuries and sickness and just... fix them, I guess." He counts off his patients. "First was my dad..." He sidesteps any story there. "Then I broke my collar bone in training and just sort of popped it back into place. I can still feel where it's a little wonky though." He rubs the divot in his neck to make sure it's still there. "And, uh..." He cringes a little. "This is stupid, but there was a cricket in my bunk one night. And I just knew..." He grasps for words to describe exactly how he knew. "I could just sense it, ya know? It was sick and I just scooped it up in my hands, and I found it in my mind's eye, or focused my chi or chakras, or whatever--" He laughs at his own wu-wu bullshit. "And I just breathed into that feeling, like stoking a flame, hot in my chest, and then--you wouldn't believe it--a fucking hookworm as long as my hand spilled out of the fucking thing. It was crazy." He shivers thinking about it. "And then, well, I helped the security guard at the records office too, but that's really been it." He leans back in his chair, a sense of relief washing over him. It felt good to tell someone. "How'd I get it and why?" He shrugs again. "Beats the shit out of me, man." He adds, "Bad luck, maybe?" He laughs, but he certainly didn't think of it as a bad thing. Was he worried he was some sort of radioactive space-mutant freak-thing? Yeah, a little. But mostly he was glad he could use it to help people. "It's no freaking mind control," he teases, "But I'll take it."

"And don't worry. I'll be on my best behavior tomorrow night," he says, then adds, "And if I lose my temper and get you shot to pieces, well then... He rubs his hands together, presses them to Yoshi's chest, and makes a fake defibrillator shock noise as he shakes Yoshi by his shirt. He laughs. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding. I'll be cool."

"Bad luck? Dude, you're a healer. That's amazing." He daps Dirt up. "Between the two of us, nobody stands a chance."

"I'll shoot you a text tomorrow and we'll meet up before heading to Cardi."

Before they split ways, Yoshi gives Dirt a friendly shoulder pat. "We should do this again, sometime. Maybe without all the stunning revelations." He laughs.