Chapter 35: Dying Ditty

Kylee was at the warehouse when he arrived.

“Hey, Kylee!”

She looked at him, a frown on her face. Around her a machine was putting together a laser rifle, though one far bigger than he could think of a use for.

“Jester? Why are you here?”

“I figured out what DollmakerMC meant about a rage form.”

She blinked and looked at him, one hand moving to hit a switch to stop the mechanical arms that swung through the air. Only when the sound ceased did he truly register how loud it’d been.

“How?”

By the time he’d finished explaining the fight, she was grinning as she looked towards Happy Hour.

“I see.”

“So?” He asked, and gestured to Whiskers. “What do you think I should do?”

She looked at him, her expression confused.

“About what?”

“About the fact Whiskers is the trigger?”

“Oh.” Kylee shrugged. “Make his lead smaller?”

Jester blinked. “You don’t think I should get rid of him?”

“No. You may not like it, but it is a powerful form. Could come in handy.” A smirk crossed her face. “Imagine Virus Hour against Rippertooth.”

He could. Oh, he could. That would be hilarious. Though potentially risky. If she got snarky and wouldn’t perform, he’d never hear the end of it.

However, watching her crush the annoying dog would be fun.

The issue remained that his actions might make the Android’s reputation worse. Then again, with how big the Final Cup was going to be? Players might not even remember it.

“It could be worth it.”

“I’d do it.” Kylee laughed. “Be a hell of a last show.”

“Last show?” He looked at her. “What, don’t think I should use it against Glasshopper?”

She waved a hand through the air. “That form isn’t for squishing bugs. Even weird ones.”

Whiskers meowed, and he looked over at Happy Hour. Her face was impassive, and she didn’t look concerned. Still, he could see from the way she stood she’d been listening in. Even if she wasn’t contributing.

Guilt welled up inside him.

He should have been asking her about this. It was her transformation, after all. Not getting her input would be wrong. With a wave, he turned in her direction.

“Sorry, I should have asked you before now. What do you think about using that form in battle? Actually, how does it feel for you?”

Happy Hour continued to pat Whiskers. He meowed and yawned as she did. It would shock Jester if he wasn’t asleep in a few more minutes. The cat could sleep anywhere.

Her words were slow, as though she was picking them with great care. There was a contemplative look on her face. Her eyes looking past him, as if she was trying to remember.

“In all honesty, it’s hard to say. I fall asleep in a sense? Or maybe it’s like being possessed?”

“So, like you’re not yourself?” He asked.

“And not really aware. I remember things when I wake up. Bits and pieces. Also, the anger. There was so much rage when I came back to myself. Not that it lasts for long.”

“I see.” Jester nodded. “How do you fell about using it though?”

“If we have to. As always, it’s your choice.” She looked away from him, her free hand clutching at her skirt.

He shook his head.

“No. It’s yours as well. You know that. We’re in this together.”

A small smile graced her face, though she didn’t look him in the eye.

“As you say.”

“I do. Think about it. We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. We can always keep it as a back pocket option.”

Kylee clapped her hands. “That brings up the question, though. How would you even activate it in a fight?”

“We can’t.” Jester shrugged. “She needs to touch Whiskers, who needs to touch a Chimera-bot. Got to hand it to DollmakerMC. They didn’t make the activation easy.”

He watched a look come over the mechanic’s face. One that he’d seen before. She was thinking.

“I may have something. Tell me, did you have any plans for outfits for your next fight?”

“Actually, yes.”

He caught Happy Hour’s eye as he grinned.

“There’s an outfit that Madame Merriam once threatened me with. I think Happy hour could pull it off with ease.”

“You don’t mean the tutu, do you?” Happy Hour sounded scandalized. “There’s no way she’d give that up.”

“For an important match that we know is going to be watched by a full house? I bet she would.”

Kylee nodded thoughtfully, as she examined Happy Hour, who did her best to stand still under the attention.

“Going full Ballerina for the last fight?”

“Provided we find nothing better.” He gestured towards Happy Hour. “She might need an upgrade for her shoes.”

Happy Hour gave a small cough, and they turned to her. She reached up and placed the now sleeping Whiskers onto a nearby bench. His tail twitched, and she continued to lightly stroke him.

“I was wondering if we could skip any flashy weapons for this?”

Kylee looked confused. A hand gesturing around the warehouse.

“Are you sure? We could go for something simple. Maybe a baton or a ribbon wand?”

With one hand, she gestured as though twirling a stick through the air. Jester nodded along. Both were solid options, but Happy Hour shook her head. Instead, she simply stuck out a foot, flashing her ballet shoes.

“No. I’d rather go back to basics. Show them I’m more than my weapons or gimmicks. If that’s ok, Jester?”

He nodded.

“It’s up to you.”

“In that case, yes. Though, perhaps.” She looked down at her shoes. “Would you be able to make me something a little more fitting? I love my knife shoes. However, I’m not a huge fan of the name.”

Kylee bit her lip and looked away.

“I was a little annoyed when I made those, true. I’ll get Madame Merriam to give me a helping hand. They’d be easier to work with if I can get something pre-made.”

“Thank you.” Happy Hour dropped into a curtsy. “You’ve done so much for us. I won’t forget it.”

With a wave, Kylee turned back to her workbench. An act that Jester knew was to hide her smile.

“In that case, try to stay out of trouble until I’m done. You still have two weeks to go before the actual fight. I hope you have plans for them.”

“We do.” Jester nodded, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “The plan is to find out more about Glasshopper and Inectorz. See what makes them tick. I’ve seen them during their previous goes around in the Coliseum. However, they seem new. Like, this year new.”

“So not much to go on then,” Kylee remarked.

“Maybe. I think the plan is to go information.”

“You should take Dam13n along for that. He’s good at that sort of thing.” Her words were casual, but Jester swore he caught a hint of something in them.

“I’ll do that.”

“Good, in that case, go bother him. I do have other clients than you.”

Jester laughed as he scooped a sleepily protesting Whiskers off the bench.

“Of course. Thanks for make time for us Kylee. We’ll be seeing you.”

The last thing he heard from her was a clap to restart her music as he walked out the door.

***

“What do you want to do first?” Happy Hour asked.

They were wandering around the streets of Geartown, without an actual destination in mind. Jester did his best to keep them off the main street as best he could. He’d gotten sick of the way the others players gawked.

“I’m honestly not sure,” he said. “I’m open to suggestions.”

She frowned as she stared around.

“Someone to relax? I think sitting somewhere quiet would be nice.”

He couldn’t disagree there. The question would be where. Geartown wasn’t a small place. Which meant plenty of hole-in-the-wall restaurants and hidden places to duck into.

“Shall we go get a drink somewhere?” He asked Happy Hour.

“That sounds nice. Meat Cutes again?” She gestured towards the café, but he shook his head.

“No, we should try somewhere new. What are you in the mood for? I know a few cabarets that are nice.”

“I’m always interested in watching performances.”

“Alright. A cabaret it is.”

With their destination in mind, he moved through the streets with purpose. Happy Hour kept up with ease, even as the crowd forced them to dodge around clumps of players.

“Do you go to these often?” Happy Hour asked as a group forced them to push their way past.

“It depended on my week’s haul normally.”

With a quick sidestep, he moved into the gap between two stores where the crowds lessened. After another few minutes, Jester stopped.

“And here we are.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Happy Hour said.

Jester couldn’t help but agree as he looked at the airship that floated a foot above the ground. Steampunk in style, a large oblong balloon held it aloft. Lights that blinked from blue to red at regular intervals decorated the outside of the deep purple material.

Light spilled from the long glass windows from the cabin below. Even from the street, it was easy to tell from the mass of shadows that players packed the place.

With a sweep of his hand, Jester gestured towards the gangplank, and the sigh hung next to it.

It read STEAM VEILED SHOWBOAT in bold, black lettering.

“Shall we?”

Happy Hour smiled and nodded.

“After you.”

He could hear Happy Hour following him, whispering excitedly to Whiskers, who occasionally meowed back.

As they reached the door, a heavyset man approached them.

The first thing Jester noticed was that he dressed like a pirate who was a fan of gears and cogs. He’d even glued them onto his cutlass and hat. As he turned, the large cog earring he wore became visible.

“Do you have a reservation, or are you simply dropping in?”

“Drop in.” Jester waved to Happy Hour. “Table for two. Is there a show on tonight?”

The man’s eyes flicked to Happy Hour and paused. He then looked once more at Jester, before a smile crossed his face.

“I’m sure we can do that. My name is Dave. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Jester, isn’t it?”

“I am. Nice to meet you, Dave.” jester tried to smile, but it was odd for people to seem so pleased to see him.

“No, no. The pleasure is mine. Would you excuse me for one moment? I need to make sure our staff prepares a suitable table.”

Jester nodded, even as he heard grumbling from behind him. Happy Hour was standing next to him, her impassive mask in place. Even Whiskers was curled up on her shoulder. Eyes closed as though blocking out the world.

Dave returned a minute later with two other men flanking him. They dressed similarly to him, though one wore a tricorne hate. Out of which a tube poked from the top, constantly emitting steam.

The man with the steam hat spoke first.

“Jester! My name is Captain Cogsworth. Please! Follow me.”

With a sidelong look at Happy Hour, who nodded, he did so.

“It’s such an exciting thing for you to come and visit us,” Captain Cogsworth said as they walked through a fancy dining area.

Small round tables sat equidistant to each other. All of them packed with players. A bar area ran the back wall of the large room, opposite to the massive stage.

Which currently sat empty.

“I’m glad to be here. I’ve always enjoyed my visits,” Jester said truthfully.

“Oh, you’re a regular? Fantastic. Have you ever been behind the scenes?”

“No.”

“Oh, you must. Happy Hour isn’t it?”

She smiled as she answered.

“Yes, Captain.”

That got a laugh from the man. High-pitched and a touch feminine. He clapped his hands with obvious delight.

“So polite! You’re exactly as described. Please, come. A table for two, yes?”

“If that’s ok?”

Jester wasn’t sure what to think, however, the captain didn’t seem to notice his hesitation.

“Right here then.”

With a flourish of his hand, Captain Cogsworth gestured towards the table they’d arrived at. It was small and tucked away behind a curtain of red fabric. One that Cogsworth quickly assured they could shift to let them view the stage or hide them as needed.

“Would you like a backstage tour now, or after your meal?”

Jester shrugged. “Happy Hour?”

“Would they mind? I’d hate to disturb them,” she asked even as her eyes flicked towards the stage.

“Not at all. I’m sure they’d be glad. Right this way.”

In moments, they were being ushered through a door marked as Staff Only.

“Come, come! I’m sure they’re all dying to meet you.”

***

The backstage area wasn’t much to look at.

Three rooms made up its entirety. A dressing room, a wardrobe, and a supply room. Men and women filled the space, moving around each other with practiced ease.

Cowboy hats and boots adorned the men, while the women wore various styles of blouses, dresses and vests.

No matter how they dressed, though, they all spoke with western accents that would have made a Hollywood movie proud. More than once, he heard a chorus of Yee-haw that was picked up and traveled around the room.

Two, however, stood out to him.

One was a woman. With her curly green ringlets hanging long, she fiddled and fussed with a top hat. Her gloved fingers working to tighten a pair of goggles that sat above the brim. Her blouse and long skirt were both a rich sky blue, with a dark metal belt breaking up the color.

Clipped to the belt was a six-shooter in a holster. Alongside a device he couldn’t fathom the purpose of. Though from the way it glowed, he assumed it was important.

Next to her stood a man in little but an open vest and a pair of beige shorts. Slung across his back was a rifle. Jester noted his dark skin and ripped physique were at odds with the lighter and slender build of his companion.

Captain Cogsworth reached out a hand and clasped the dark-skinned man’s in his own.

“Cedric!”

“Boss,” the man said in a deep voice. “Who did you bring along?”

“These two? You don’t recognize them?” Captain Cogsworth sounded scandalized.

“No, get to the point.” The woman snapped. Her cockney accent was at odds with the frontier getup.

“Now, now Lucie. Don’t be like that. Are you telling me you’re not watching the Cups this year?”

Lucie didn’t look up from her hat as she shrugged.

“Saw the first Technomancers one. Captain Rocket kicked ass.”

“That he did. Jester here is the current champion of the Frankensteins arena. Along with Happy Hour here.”

At the sound of her name, she dropped into a curtsy.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Thank you for speaking with us. I know you’re busy.”

Cedric chuckled.

“You’re the Doll right? The dancing one?”

“She is indeed.” Captain Cogsworth was beaming now. The steam coming out of his hat in little white clouds. “I was wondering if you might introduce her to the chorus? They need another member.”

Lucie looked up at that, and rolled her eyes.

“You asked him about this yet?”

“He has not,” Jester confirmed. “Hi by the way.”

“Yeah, hi or whatever. Feel free to tell him no. We’ll be fine with three.”

“But we designed the act for four!” Captain Cogsworth cried out as he whirled on Jester. “Fully comped meal, of course. Plus whatever you want from the bar. One night only, I promise.”

He paused, thinking.

It wasn’t a terrible deal. When he caught Happy Hour’s eye, he saw her make the briefest of nods. There was something else there, too. Excitement? He wouldn’t put it past her. She always loved performing.

So, if she was happy to do it, he couldn’t think of any reason to say no.

Still, there was something else he wanted from the deal, something to help his friends.

“Sure. That all sounds good. Though, I’d like one other small add on, if I may?”

“Of course, of course.”

“How do you feel about a shout-out? A dear friend of mine runs an Android based club of her own. Happy Hour was a server there. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a name-drop, seeing as you’re using one of her old staff.”

Captain Cogsworth blinked, paused, and then nodded.

“Well, I don’t see why not? Yes. Yes. Provided we can announce who she is before the start of the show?”

“That’s fine.”

Jester smiled as he turned to Happy Hour.

“Do you need me to stay?”

“I’ll be fine. Promise. Can you take Whiskers?”

“Sure.”

With careful movements, he maneuvered the cat off her shoulder and onto his own.

“Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

After a brief explanation of what he wanted to be said, he followed one of the other cast members back to his table. In moments, a waiter was beside him, happily taking his order.

A simple seafood basket. There wasn’t even a pop-up asking him to confirm. The waiter simply smiled and moved off to go grab him what he wanted.

Whiskers was yawning as he explored the table by the time the waiter returned.

After they placed a hot plate on a small tray, he looked at Jester.

“Anything I can help you with?”

“Drinks from you or from the bar?” Jester asked.

“For you? I can handle that. You’re my only customers for tonight. Orders from on high.”

“Beer then, nothing fancy.”

The waiter nodded and dash off.

“Is this what it feels like to be popular?” He whispered to Whiskers.

The robopet meowed at him.

When his waiter returned, he waved at the stage.

“When does the show start?”

“Ten minutes.” The waiter replied. “Though it might be a touch late. Some new girl.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“My pleasure, wave if you need something. Enjoy your meal.”

Jester watched him go and returned to the stage. Already happily munching down on the digital food, which was exquisite as always. After listening to Whisker meow, he dropped one of his chips in front of the robopet.

With delicate motions, Whiskers gnawed at it. His rubber teeth struggling with even that.

“Don’t eat it too quick. I don’t want you getting sick.”

Jester had almost finished his meal when the curtain around his area shifted aside as though by an unseen hand.

Captain Cogsworth strode onto the stage, clapping his hands once to gather the room’s attention. His smile was wide, and the steam coming from his hat made a variety of shapes. Most were wild wet themed, such as cactus and small horse.

“Ladies, Gentleman and others. We welcome you to tonight’s performance of The Time Travelling Cowgirl. We would also like to thank our friends over at Debrah’s Dollhouse for allowing us to borrow one of their ex-staff for this performance.”

With a snap of his wrist, he raised his arm into the air.

“For performing with us tonight, we have the one and only Happy Hour! Famed dancer and winner of three out of four matches in the Frankenstein cup. We hope you enjoy the performance.”

He moved off-stage amidst a variety of muttering and whispers.

Jester for his part leaned forward, eager to see what was coming. This was going to be fun.

The performance wasn’t anything too complicated.

A simple story about a pair of time travelers, who ended up stranded in the wild west. Both Lucie and Cedric sung and danced their heart out during the first act. Each shifting their partners between the various other performers.

Happy Hour, however, didn’t make an appearance.

Once he’d ordered desert, and the intermission finished, the curtain rose once again. This time, a quartet he’d not seen before was standing there. Spotlights flicked on, one by one, to illuminate each member.

Happy Hour was last, her smile wide as she stepped forward with the rest.

They’d gotten her to put her hair down, and brushed it to hang loose past her neck. Various paints and powders covered her face. Each dab of makeup created a particular effect.

In this case? Blue.

Her cheeks were pale, almost corpse-like, with a tinge of light blue intermixed. She’d used a much darker shade for her lips and around her eyes. Which, he noticed, was now black as pitch.

Contacts, he realized as she walked forward.

As he traced the loop of rope that hung around her neck, he leaned forward. It trailed on the ground, and it took him a moment to see all four of the women had the same thing.

When they reached the edge, Happy Hour opened her mouth and sang.

“Oh! See us, See us, See us please.

The Quartet whose throat you squeezed.

You left us there

Upon the rope

To squeeze us one more time

Oh! See us, See us, See us please.

Those you once paid to squeeze!”

Each line and word was soft and slow. The rhythm and time putting him on edge with how sheer off it was. With each word, she shook her head, causing the end of the rope to drag along the ground.

In time, the others joined her, each giving a verse about why the villagers executed them. For not selling at a discount. Because they wouldn’t lie for their husband. A petty revenge for a perceived slight. Due to the misplaced idea that faith couldn’t save her.

As they finished their personal verse and another rendition of the chorus, an invisible force pulled them off-stage. Until Happy Hour was the last one who remained.

With one hand outstretched to the audience, Jester could feel her eyes bore into him.

Her mouth twisted in terror and pain as her body shook. As she sang, the words turned into sobs and gasps. The tug on her rope was slower. He watched her seem to fight for each step.

It was a losing battle.

One more choking rendition of the chorus was all she managed before she once more vanished off-stage.

Someone in the audience clapped. Then another, and soon another. Jester joined in as well, and the room filled with the sound. Not until it died completely did they continue the performance. Whiskers glared at him, the nose having woken him up.

As Lucie and Cedric came back on, the scene changed. They stood in the center of town, at the back of which hung the four who’d sung before. Out of them, Happy Hour looked the most corpse like.

Jester watched, fascinated, as the two leads sang and danced, and got the town back to rights. Until they simply vanished with the help of the glowing device, he’d seen earlier. As the play ended, he was on his feet.

All around him, people were standing and cheering. As the cast came out and bowed, Happy Hour caught his eye.

Her grin was massive.

Jester hoped he could match it.

They bowed throughout the applause until it finally petered out. As it did, his waiter returned.

“The Captain would like to speak with you?”

“Sure.” As he rose from his seat, the waiter waved him back down.

“No, sit. He’ll come to you. Please wait for a moment.”

Jester did as he was told. For a while, he watched as Whiskers licked at his dessert spoon. He’d almost finished what little was there by the time Captain Cogsworth returned.

Happy Hour was beside him, sans corpse make-up. She was smiling, and before she could say a word, he was on her feet.

“That was amazing.”

She looked away from him. Her voice was excited and breathy.

“Thank you. It was a lot of fun. Different from fighting.”

“I might have to steal her from you again,” Captain Cogsworth said, laughing. “If she can learn any parts that quickly. We need her to fill in.”

“If my date and I can get treatment like this, sure.”

Jester held out a hand, and Captain Cogsworth shook it firmly.

“You have a deal. May I add you to my friend’s list?”

“Yeah, good idea.”

He nodded as the captain’s contact information showed up with a green dot beside it.

“You aren’t worried what having an Android in your show will do, though?” Jester asked.

“Not her.” Captain Cogsworth look at Happy Hour. “With her level of fame? I bet people will line up to see if they can catch her in action.”

“You say it like that, and I might have to get you to pay her.”

“Not you?”

Jester made a note of the raised eyebrow.

“No. Her. She’s doing the work.”

“So you’re going to split your winnings with her, then?”

That made him pause. He’d never thought about it. She couldn’t exactly use the one thousand real world dollars. However, the one-hundred thousand credits? Happy Hour had showed no interest in it.

It would be fair, though.

As though he could see Jester’s thoughts, Captain Cogsworth shook his head. “I heard you types were weird. Pay for a robot companion.”

Jester smiled and held out a hand.

“Thank you for allowing her to do this.”

“You’re welcome. Until next time.” With that, Captain Cogsworth turned and left.

Once he was gone, Happy Hour took a seat and beamed at him. Whiskers sitting on her shoulder.

“Thank you for allowing me to do that.”

“You’re welcome.” Jester shrugged. “Would you want to do it again?”

She blinked. “Would they let me?”

“Here? Without a doubt. At other places? No idea. Though it wouldn’t surprise me.”

Happy Hour nodded. “It would be nice. We have the fights though. That should be our priority.”

“Agreed.” Jester raised a finger. “But.”

“But?”

“Yes, but. We’ll have a life afterward. If we win against Glasshopper, there’ll be the Final Cup. Then next year will be its own thing. We don’t have to enter the next one.”

“Debrah’s deal—”

“—was for this year,” Jester cut her off. “Look, we don’t have to figure it out now. Think about it.”

At the look of concern on her face, he tried distracting her.

“Also, I wanted to talk to you about the money.”

“Money?”

“The credit prize. How did you want to split that? I was hoping to make enough to buy Markal’s place. However, you’re the one doing the work. Which means you deserve a cut.”

“Jester. What would I even do with it?” She leaned forward, eyes wide.

“I don’t know. Buy clothes?” He shrugged. “I wanted you to know the offer was there.”

“Thank you. Can I think about that as well?”

“Sure.” With one hand, he gestured at the nearby seat. “Come sit and watch the show. We’ll see what comes up next.”

As they started to watch the show together, he couldn’t help but smile. She’d been right. Thai was what they needed. Even if tomorrow the real work would begin.