The snide grin on Maysah’s face only widened as Peterson spoke up, but she didn’t take her eyes off of Void. She was curious to see what the man would do. It was a test, almost, although a test implied that she had intended to set him up in this situation all along when in reality she was the one who had her buttons pushed. Unfortunately, when Void had stepped up that locked Maysah from ever entertaining the possibility of backing off. She was a matador and Hex’s notebook was the red cape. All that was left was to see if Void was more bullheaded than she. Maysah gestured to her empty glass. It was his move. 

Maysah’s head snapped away as TONDE broke first. Something pulled the plug and the whole bar shut itself down in such a furiously self-destructive manner that it couldn’t have been the normal protocol of signalling to time displaced drunks that it was past closing. The carnival of lights and noise was now dead, the only source of light coming from the single bulb above their table. Maysah glanced up at the solitary light with a frown and let Arbiter pull the notebook from her fingers as he growled. So that’s what Arbiter could actually do, then? She knew he was more than just a stiff in a super suit. The test was now over. 

Satisfied, Maysah leaned back in her seat and reached for her glass, cocking an eyebrow when she saw that it was empty. Maysah followed the old drinking rule of “when you don’t remember drinking it, it’s time to stop”, but normally she felt more drunk when it would come to that point. Funny that. She folded her arms over her chest and stared at Arbiter. Perhaps she should stop poking at the man so much. Her healthy suspicion coupled with just the simple pleasure of winding the man up was fine when it was just the two of them, or just the two of them and the Tower there to keep the peace, but it did them no good to squabble in public. Especially not in front of Peterson. 

“Of course,” said Maysah at Arbiter’s insistence on getting some sleep. It was strange. She knew she had been arguing with him, but she felt no anger towards him. Naturally, she wouldn’t dare to give him an apology, but she’d accept his excuse. “We’re all in need of some actual good sleep.”

[hr]

Maysah didn’t get good sleep. It wasn’t that the room Peterson had set her up with wasn’t adequate, although there was a sort of gauche tackiness to the decoration that suggested the room could be rented by the hour. The bed was comfortable enough as long as she kept that previous thought out of her mind and the amenities were, at the very least, existent. There was a faint pink glow to the room that emerged once she kicked off the lights, the pollution of neon advertisements forcing their way past the blackout curtains to get to the consumer. Still, Maysah was out the moment her head touched the pillow. Regardless, the sleep wasn’t good.

Their house together hadn’t been large but it was exquisite and solitary, located in a forest clearing at the end of a winding drive. The windows were so numerous and so enormous that it’d be more accurate to say that it was made of glass and a few planks than to say it was constructed out of cedar. Henri was a proponent of minimalism, so every room was neat and smartly decorated with the exclusion of her study, although he always found time to tidy up the chaos of “the Stardust Cave” as he insisted on calling it. Really, beside her one room it was [i]his[/i] house. He did everything in the kitchen, he cleaned the bathroom, he remodeled the children’s room into a personal gym once that dream was realized to be irresponsible. He put a lot of work in making their home a home. Once she was Stardust, she hardly even had time to be there let alone think about dusting.

She was running down the driveway he’d happily shovel for an hour every time it snowed, despite her offer of torching it with her powers. The moon was full and she could see the house clearly as she turned around the final bend. The huge windows to the dining room, the ones that he insisted were great because of how much natural light they let in, were shattered inwards. She went through them. All was dark inside except the flicker of the television in the other room. Henri had been opposed to getting a TV, but there wasn’t a night when she came home from fighting crime where she didn’t find him staying up to watch for news of her accolades. She dropped her shield and slowed down. Maysah knew what she was about to walk into but still screamed as she turned the corner. It always surprised her by the amount of viscera Soothslayer left dripping from the ceiling.

Maysah woke up with a jolt of panic that was louder than any alarm and more energizing than any shot of espresso. Her body ached. Realization eased the pain in her chest as she leaned back against the headboard and breathed.  It had been a while since she had that nightmare, although she never kidded herself once that it would ever be gone. It was this damn job, as if she needed her subconscious to remind her of the terrible things the corps would do if you dared to oppose them. She looked at the aging woman in the mirror above the dresser and frowned. What more could they take now? She had a few hours to kill, and going out wasn’t an option. 

So, Maysah decided to find out the answer to that question, even though she feared that it’d be nothing.

[hr]

It was difficult not to look at the message anytime Maysah pulled out her phone. [i]You can trust him.[/i] Unlike her previous question, this one still had no answer. Maysah could remember the directions to A Morning Cup from here. She sighed and locked the screen, momentarily startled by the sight of Maria in the reflection. No matter how many times she saw that face looking back at her she’d never recognize it as her own. Thanks to her supply of glamour pills being down to the last two, she wouldn’t have to ever overcome that hurdle. Of course, she’d have new problems to deal with once she ran out, and they were the kind that’d be a little harder to jump over than a hurdle. All in good time. She had to survive tonight.

Fortunately, she was nailing it on the surviving aspect so far. She had managed the short walk from the hotel to the jazz club without a scratch on her, although she did have to fend off several promoters that were bombarding anyone who got too close with flyers for various clubs. By the time she was outside of A Morning Cup she had a healthy stack in her hand. With so many places to have an awful time at, how did any of these clubs stay open? She squeezed her way inside through a gauntlet of expensive haircuts and tailored suits while a baritone saxophone loudly died to find Arbiter had gotten them a table. A kind gesture, considering he hadn’t offered to give them a ride.

“Do you find it as worrisome as I do that our benefactor isn’t already here?” asked Maysah, joining Arbiter at the table. “I suppose if a betrayal was lined up corp sec would’ve kicked in our doors during the night. Still. Things haven’t really gone our way so far.”