"Heard you run a security company. I need a job. Let's talk."

     “ i do. ” its voice was level and careful - murderbot was desperately trying to not give away the fact that it was very thrown off-guard by the other’s appearance; an alien? some kind of genetic experiment? it had no idea, and it wasn’t about to go guessing out loud either. good thing it was wearing its visor, though - or she probably would have seen the alarm on its face. 

The Trickster had never been one to leave a job half-finished, he punished people in sets of at least two and always cleaned up after himself when he was done--except for the candy wrappers, those were left behind like ink on a dotted line.  But something had just gone bump in the night in a big way; big enough that it was cause to drop his current project with two assholes left unpunished.  It was, frankly, unheard of.  It was also familiar in a way he couldn’t place his finger on. It pricked at something somewhere deep down in his being.  It felt--if he had to put words to it--like spinning off. 

“Hey bro, aren’t you a little... little?”  It was his brother, of that he was certain. But the bump hadn’t felt like the Cage opening.  That would have felt more like a rumble. “No need to get all teary eyed and sentimental about seeing me again.  I know you’re crying on the inside. Tears of joy, right?”

There were things people said to estranged relatives; these things ran the gambit from ‘it’s been ages how have you been?’ to ‘fourteen years seems like an awful long time for a cigarette run’, and covered everything in between. But none of it seemed appropriate now.

“You ever try one of these?” He held up a cup that was still half full of pink and blue slurry.  “Unicorn frappuccino, it’s genius.  All sugar, topped with more sugar, and not a drop of coffee to be seen.” Gabriel’s smile almost looked comfortable.

It had been going on since the first time he’d counted: there was an extra.  It shouldn’t have been possible; whenever he sent an illusory version of himself out into the world to take care of business he was looking though its eyes and speaking with its mouth.  (This frequently left him in several places at once balancing conversations like spinning plates and he was proud to say he hadn’t let one fall to the ground yet.)  But there it was whenever he counted.  A blip. And it wasn’t going away. 

So what’s one more plate?

❝ Not by ME, smartypants. ❞

A figure stepped out alongside the other, almost as tall as him, but just a few inches shorter with mousy ears to top off her height. Pink, rodent eyes glared back at Tyrone, squinting ever slightly as she gave a slanted smirk to the predicament the boy found himself in.

                ❛ C..Craig! GHA! Do..Don’t do that! You fucking                 scared me!!! ❜

                more from the fact that his parents had Tweek doing                 the late night shift again.