Chapter Fifty-One – Gothic Public Relations

Chapter Fifty-One – Gothic Public Relations

“It’s all about the memes.”

–Emoscythe Mordeath Noir, Seventh-Annual PR Specialist Conference, 2049

***

“So what’re you doing here?” I asked.

Emoscythe stared at me. For some reason her lack of armour was bothering me. I mean, she was her own girl, and if that big ship was anything to go by, she could afford some pretty nice shit if she wanted to.

I couldn’t even toss that many stones from my glass house, I had been reluctant to get armour for myself for a while. I’d learned better since, especially after my gear had likely saved my ass a few times.

“I’m here to kill aliens,” Emosycthe said. “And to keep an eye on you.”

“Me?” I asked.

She nodded. “I have access to the records. You’re the third newest samurai in the city. The newest who didn’t become a Vanguard in the last forty-eight hours.”

“Alright,” I said. “But I think I’m doing okay for myself.”

“You think that?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

She looked me up and down. “I suppose it could be worse.”

“Thanks,” I said flatly. “Look, I don’t mind keeping someone company, but I don’t do babysitting and I don’t need to be babysat. I’m guessing you can pull your weight, if you’re acting so self-confident.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “I can handle myself, Stray Cat.”

“You sure do have a stick,” I said with a gesture to the staff she held next to her.

Emoscythe’s thumb ran along the shaft. “It’s my preferred weapon. Maybe you’ll get to see it in use. But… that can wait. What are your objectives now?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I got side-tracked when I heard that Grasshopper needed help. Wasn’t doing much before that. Well, that’s not true. I was setting up chokepoints and ambushes to take out as many aliens as possible before they reached the front.”

She nodded. “Invisibility and explosives. I remember. You have both of those and the cat gimmick going on. You’re spreading yourself a little thin, I think, but you’re new enough that some experimentation’s normal.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said. “Anyway, the building I was in collapsed and I got pinned at the bottom. Had to get a new arm.” I wiggled my hand around.

I was expecting some sort of reaction from that. What I’d just described had been kind of metal, but Emoscythe didn’t seem either surprised or impressed. “We should probably head back to the wall. We can plug any gaps in the formation there, and it’s possible that they need the assistance we could provide. Two samurai not assisting is a huge loss in firepower.”

“You’re a bit more… no-nonsense than I was expecting,” I said.

She stared at me. She had a good stare going on, what with the eyeliner. “I’m a goth, not an idiot. Sure, I accept and understand that every action I take, no matter how hard I work, will likely amount to very little in the end, but I’m not a coward. I’ll fight against the void until the very end.”

That would have sounded a lot cooler if it wasn’t delivered in a monotone. “Okay then,” I said. “Front lines?” I asked.

She nodded. “Front lines.We can discuss personal style and how one’s attitude and appearance play a role in shaping others perception of you.”

I raised a hand in a ‘wait a moment’ sort of gesture. “What?”

“Would you rather talk about something else?” Emoscythe asked. “You have my attention, might as well use it.”

“I got that part, but why would I… how do I politely say that I don’t know what you’re on about without sounding like an ass?”

“Grasshopper didn’t explain,” Emoscythe said. She looked away from me and took a deep breath. “I should have known. Yes, that’s very much like her. Grasshopper’s a good woman, but her communication skills sometimes… well, it doesn’t matter I suppose.” She bowed in my direction. “I’m Emoscythe Mordeath Noir. I cut things.”

“Yeah, uh, Stray Cat. I… blow shit up and kiss cute girls. Pleased to meetcha.”

Emoscythe rolled her eyes. “Your introduction could use some work.”

“Yours was fantastic. Never expected the bowing. Ten outta ten.”

She didn’t seem amused. “At least the sarcasm fits your cat persona.” My what? “My job, more often than not, is to help new samurai find their place. Not so much in combat but within society. To make them recognizable, so that when they inevitably die we have something to remember them by.”

“Wait, you’re a samurai PR person? Who’s also a goth?”