I Know Where AT Is And It's Between H And E

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Man, I do not like Rob Williams. I got a whole list of reasons why. Dude is an insensitive pig. He goes back and forth between insulting me and crudely flirting with me. The whole crucifixion thing. The fact that he's now a Whoresmen. I could probably keep going and keep finding more. But c'mon… if you know me and you know him, you know what the main problem is.

The rotten son of a bitch still somehow found a way to get some sympathy from me.

What? You thought it was something else? That? OH! THAT! Yeah, I'll get into that in a bit. But lemme stay on the sympathy path for a moment. I'm an emotional bitch. It's one of my main strengths and it might be one of my biggest weaknesses. The dude is physically failin’. But that's not why I feel the way I do. Hell, some might say that's karma coming back to bite him on the ass.

Dude has accepted his fate. Well, he mostly accepted his fate. I guess the better way to put it is he's accepted his diagnosis. But he's still fightin’. He's not lettin’ this shit drag him down without givin’ everything he got left before the reaper takes him. It kinda makes my heart hurt. If I were in his shoes, I'd probably wanna do the same thing. Maybe that's part of why I don't like him? We're more alike than I wanna admit.

Guess I should get to the reality warpin’ elephant in the room; Anna Daniels. We both love her. It might be in different ways, but the feels are still there. I felt like he stole her from me. Immature shit, right? Like, she's a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. He didn't force her into anything. Shit, she said as much to me. It doesn't make me any less angry. It doesn't make me feel any less hurt.

It's irrational. It's childish bullshit. But I feel like she chose him over me. Some random asshole babblin’ about burnin’ ships and tearin’ the world apart. And that's what she would rather have? Chaos over compassion? Destruction over devotion? Look, I'm used to being second place. Outside of brief periods in my life, there's always been somebody else. Professionally, personally, platonically, romantically… Fuckin’ silver at best most of the time.

Anna and I have had discussions. She'll always be there and I'll always be here. No matter what we do, no matter the company we keep, I’m her sister and she’s mine. So I get it. But just cuz I get it doesn’t mean I’m just gonna accept it. Like I said, more alike than we might think. But ya know what? For at least one night? No more running up. No more silver. I’m gonna show her. I’m gonna show Rob. Even if I have to accept my place everywhere else in every other way… In the ring. One on one. I don’t have to be second to him. I don’t have to take a backseat. I’m driving this car, motherfucker! He’s just gonna be along for the ride.

The Keyes estate in San Francisco. Lavish. Extravagant. There's rooms in this sprawling mansion Henry doesn't even know about! Things like a complicated metal coffee drip straight out of steampunk fantasy could be found in one of the kitchens. A golden cutlass was proudly displayed over the fireplace in Henry’s favorite den (perhaps the only den he could find in the house). A carport packed with vehicles, some potentially gained through less than legal means.

Some might say this is all excessive. Fuck those people though. Those people? They can’t sit with us. Back on task, there’s a reason our favorite RIA is here. A very big reason. A very hungry reason. A very white tiger reason. Yes, that’s right; RIA was paying a very special visit to Helen, the resident white tiger of Vae Victis, in her personal chamber. And Ms. Lockhart came bearing a gift.

Dressed in form hugging black jeans with a loose fitting white New World Trash tank top and a hot pink VV zipper hoodie, the Psychoberry unwrapped something covered in butcher’s paper. What was underneath? A large ribeye steak, just for the feline. She playfully waved the raw meat in front of the patient tiger, a big smile on the woman's face. After a beat, RIA chucked the steak up and Helen, who it turns out is still a tiger and is still quite dangerous cuz TIGER, caught the chow in her jaws. The large cat wasted little time dropping into a laying position to gnaw on her unexpected feast.

For her part, RIA lowered onto the ground, scooting over to cuddle up with Helen. She scratched just behind the left ear of the cat, leading to chuffing emanating from Helen. Food, affection, what more could a deadly apex predator ask for? How about some conversation?

“Ya know, I was told you were excited I’d be around.” RIA cooed. “So I wanted to bring you a gift and hang out. Most of the cats I interact with are a whole hell of a lot smaller. But hey, you and I both know there ain't nothin’ wrong with a full figured woman!”

A huff of approval came from Helen’s throat. The physical spoiling from RIA continued as she resumed speaking.

“We’re kinda similar in ways, and not just cuz we’re curvy girls. It’s the duality of what we can be.” The smallest smirk crept across RIA’s lips. “We can be sweet and cuddly when we wanna be. When we have what we want, we’ll be calm and beautiful, and we’ll be well behaved. But you piss us off…”

RIA slid over to gently grasp sides of Helen’s ruff, locking eyes with the tiger as best she could.

“We’ll tear you the fuck apart! We will make you our meal! You can run, you can try to fight back, we’ll hunt you with the feral ferocity we’ve got inside us. Compliance ain't a factor!”

The Rainbow Death Doll let go of the large animal. Though eye contact remained for a brief moment, Helen’s attention moved back to her unfinished treat. Into the meat her fatal fangs went. RIA repositioned herself around the back of the tiger, laying across her like the biggest fluffy pillow.

“I’ve got troubles, honey.” Further words the cat probably had no more than a curious interest in. “I feel like I’m starting to lose control. Like, I dunno what I’m even doing any more. Being in Vae Victis is great. I’m glad I get to see you more! I get to learn a bit more directly from Lindz and Henry. I’ll get to hear more compliments from Scottie, and that’s always nice. I might actually get more than a few words outta Clay. I can get some advice from Kerry or Kaz. And I’ll have more time to hang around with Ami.”

RIA let the last statement hang in the air momentarily.

“I dunno what the fuck I’m doing with myself anymore. I feel like my mind is going in so many different directions. The two others sharing that space ain’t makin’ it any easier. One of the big things that’s bothering me right now, though? Girl troubles. Okay, maybe I should be more specific; there’s feelin’s goin’ ‘round and I dunno what the hell is real and what’s just flirting.”

A sigh, one that wavered between frustration and desperation. Her fingers tenderly dug into the flesh and fur of Helen’s neck, drawing to and fro. After a few moments, RIA hugged the tiger around its shoulders.

“I like to have fun, ya know? But I want something serious. But I also don't wanna get hurt again.” She babbled, her pace of speech picking up. “After Sid… Well, I didn't think I'd meet anyone that quickly. I have, but… I dunno. I'm scared. I'm confused. I'm frustrated. I just turned 30 and it's like I'm still a fuckin' teenager!”

The Psychoberry miffed and sat up. The tiger kept tearing the steak apart like it was the truth and she was Ivan Stanislav.

“People seem like they don't take me seriously, and I think it kinda extends to this.” RIA postulated. “I mean, yeah, I'm here for a good time, not a long time. I just… I want something real. Something where the other person is as into me as I am them. I'm sure people would say it's not, but it feels kinda pathetic to me.”

Another sigh and RIA pushed herself to her feet. Done with her delicacy, the tiger gazed over at the woman. She, too, rose. Sauntering over, Helen gently bumped her head against the Psychoberry’s leg. With a giggle, RIA crouched down and again took a light hold of the tiger’s ruff.

“You trying to tell me not to worry about it?” She mused with a bright smile. Helen learned forward, her tongue darting out and running the vertical length of RIA's face. Though she kept the smile, RIA struggled. That smell, man… Bobby Dean or Fred Dick might be able to do worse, but damn. “You need some dental treats.”

She straightened out, ruffling the top of Helen's head after doing so. She began to mosey towards the exit of the room.

“Maybe I should talk to Seán about it?” RIA thought out loud. “I mean, I'm probably gonna talk match strategy with him anyway. He probably ain't gonna approve of my ‘kick the fuck outta Rob Williams till he actual owes me fucks’ plan, but my emotions are running kinda haywire.”

She paused her stride and eyed up the exit.

“I guess I could talk to Henry. But he seems like his advice would probably be enjoy the now and worry about the consequences later. Or he'd be all ‘go for it!’ and again, not worry about the consequences. As much as I'd agree with these things in most cases, this is different.”

RIA let out a crabby groan, wildly fluffing her hair. She looked down to Helen, who glanced back at her.

“On the plus side, you're a real good listener. Maybe it was my bribe, but you stayed and heard what I had to say. You coulda went off and done tiger things. Lord knows you have enough room in here… So thank you. But now, the biggest challenge I have in front of me is… how the fuck did I even get in here?!”

RIA once more eyed the door. She really didn't have the energy at the moment to try and traverse the sprawling residence. She looked down to Helen. A grin started peeking back onto her face, eyes sparkling.

“Hey Helen, you wanna hear a story?”

17th century England. The world was far different than today. Horse drawn carriages, horses themselves or walking; those were your forms of transport. The air was cleaner, but the people were far far dirtier. Bathing? That shit was very much optional. Toothpaste? Ha! Not needed when you got wooden teeth!

This particular little town was on edge. You see, it was based on a port. Such a thing shouldn't be a worry. Global warming wasn't a thing yet, so hurricanes didn't happen monthly. But the people still had reason to be leery. Under the cover of darkness, with further stealth of fog, there had been talk of numerous cases of arson in the nearby water adjacent villages. The target of these attacks? Ships. There were no suspects. There was no speculated reason for the fires. It all seemed so random, chaotic.

A man, dressed in standard fare outside of a dusty long coat and an equally filth covered top hat, lurked around town. Was he suspicious? Slightly. But he was a rather broad man. His hard to see weathered face, the hat and a scraggly beard obscuring it, was one that could tell tales of hardship without a single word leaving his lips. This man? This was not a man you trifled with.

For the last day or two, the man had set up shop at the largest inn the town offered. He partook in alcohol, but rarely spoke. Though an air of menace surrounded him, his actions were entirely civil. Accosting such a man may lead to a loss of life. Better to let the creepy vagabond alone. He wasn't hurting anything, after all.

At least not yet.

Day faded and night took a firm hold. The fog drifted in, as was commonplace. The wanderer leaned against a building situated just off center from the shipyard. He placed a shaking hand against the stone, drawing a deep breath inward.

“The time is now.”

His stride was quick, but cautious. He had been observing the last few nights. The constable’s patrol was well down the road at this point. They wouldn't pass by again for at least an hour. Plenty of time for him to do what was needed. Still, there was no need to potentially draw any extra attention his way.

He found his way to the dock, avoiding detection. Most of the town’s residents were comfortably sleeping at this point. Despite their concern for the reported fires, no one took them quite seriously enough to bother posting a guard of some kind at the port. A simple, foolish mistake.

He sauntered from one ship to another. There were five in total, with four of them being rather standard trade or fishing boats. But the fifth one, the one that occupied the spot at the furthest right of the dock… It was bigger than the others. The bow had a flamboyant golden figurehead in the shape of a female mermaid. The captain’s cabin at the stern of the ship was spacious, with large, frosted windows. There was obviously a lot of coin put into this vessel.

“Perfect.”

He swung a satchel concealed under his long coat to his front. Digging into the bag, he produced a large glass bottle in a small burlap sack. The bottle was filled to just below the brim with lamp oil, a crude wick sticking out of the mouth of the bottle. He sat it down on a nearby wooden railing before producing a second. The last items were procured from the satchel; flint and an iron striker. A malicious grin formed on his face as he held the paraphernalia close to the wick…

“And what might you be doin’, love?”

The voice panicked the man, causing him to nearly drop his materials into the sea. He whipped to the right, then to the left, his head on a swivel.

“Up here, sunshine.”

The vagrant calmed himself quickly before glancing skyward. The lack of moonlight and dense fog made it hard to make out features. He saw and heard enough, though. The outline of a feminine figure was on the deck of the ship.

“Begone, wench! My activities do not concern you!” The man growled with every bit of fury his voice could muster. A light chuckle came from the shadowy figure.

“Well you're lookin' at me ship. And seein’ what's in your hand, I'd say your activities very much concern me!” The woman reasoned. The vagabond tilted his head ever so slightly.

“Your ship?” The man inquired. “My my, aren't you the enterprising lass?”

“Got that right.” She responded. “She's my baby and if you wish to harm her, I'm afraid I'll be takin’ action to prevent such a thing!”

It was the man's turn to laugh, shaking his head as he did. Still holding the flint in his right hand and the iron in his left, the arsonist stretched his arms out to his sides.

“My dear, this world? This world is rotten.” The man explained in confidence. “I myself am as well. But I am honest. I must attest that my actions are for the betterment of all. No more classes. No more corruption. Anarchy. I am answering a calling from a higher power. If you wish, you can aid me. I'll even spare your ship as a form of gratitude!”

Silence sat atop of the fog for a moment. How would she respond? She drew a blunderbuss from the holster of her left hip and pointed it at the man.

“Pretty speech, darlin’.” The armed woman began to answer. “But I must enlighten you to a few things about me. You see, I'm a pirate. I already do as I please. Though I have little love for law, I stand by my own code. You? I feel as if you may harm innocent people without a care in the world. I have no desire to join in this form of delinquency.”

“Oh please!” He snarked back. “I have no need for lectures from one as selfish as a pirate! I'm being generous. You can be part of the solution, or simply continue to compound the problem. But if you choose the latter, you will have retribution! Completely abandon this foolishness! Together, we can cleanse the earth!"

The pistol remained trained on the man.

“I, in turn, have no time for heretics. Excuse such a label, sweetheart, but I had noticed you said higher power and not God. Mind you, I am no friend to the church. But I know how your types are. You're no better than a crusader.” The woman spat back. The wanderer sighed heavily with a shrug.

“Such a shame.” He lamented. “But I am to do what must be done.”

The man dashed for the bottles. He was within a fingertips reach when…

BOOM

The gunshot rang out through the relative silence of the town. A scream of agony followed. The man lurched forward into the railing the bottles sat upon. The wood cracked and splintered, sending the arsonist and all his tools into the water. The woman holstered her pistol and quickly threw a rope ladder over the side of the ship, close to the bow. She scampered down, setting foot on the docks in short order. The pirate rushed over to the busted rail and looked down into the water.

Nothing. Even with the poor sight conditions, she should be able to see a body. But no. There wasn't even evidence of the man outside of the damage to the bannister of the dock. Footsteps thudded onto the dock of the ship as lamps of nearby houses began to flicker.

“Captain!” A voice with a thick Irish accent rang out from the ship. “What happened?”

The woman’s eyes stayed locked onto the still ocean below.

“Prepare to sail.” She answered without looking up. “This is a whole mess. I'll explain later.”

As the man tore around the ship waking what crew hadn't been jerked out of sleep by the gunfire, the captain turned and approached the vessel. She started trudging up the rope ladder. She stopped momentarily, unable help herself. She paused and looked back once more. Still no sign of life, no evidence someone had ever been there. She lightly shook her head before climbing onto the deck.

“What the hell happened?!” The Irish man approached, trying but failing to keep his voice calm.

“I might have shot a ghost.” The woman mused. “And yet, I can't help but feel like I haven't seen the last of him…”

The ship’s crew raced back and forth in frantic preparation to set sail. No doubt constables would arrive soon. If the first mate didn't believe the pirate captain’s story, there was little reason to believe authorities would be any more understanding. They could hear the sound of hooves clomping on cobblestone as the ship began lurching forward, sails fully open.

The vessel picked up speed and soon enough, the port town began growing smaller and smaller. The captain had moved to the stern of the ship by this point. She continued to look back, as if some unholy miracle would come to fruition and the man would reappear. As the port became nothing more than a dim light in the fog, the first mate stood next to the captain.

“Well?” He asked. “Where we even going?”

The captain finally moved her gaze, glancing up to the night sky. Despite the conditions of limited visibility, she managed to spot a sole star twinkling in the atmosphere. A soft grin covered her face.

“Follow the arch of a rainbow and see where it takes us. I'm sure we'll be alright.”