Post by Sloane Taylor on Mar 20, 2021 21:27:02 GMT -5
“What do you mean I can’t pay it here? It literally says at the top ‘pay at this address’ and I’m at this address and I’m paying. Or, well, trying to anyway,” Sloane said, smiling weakly as she slid her card across the counter to the woman who sat behind the protective pane of glass, trying not to stare at the all-too distracting chain that hung from the woman’s glasses. It was sparkly.
The woman, Barb, at least that’s what her name badge stated, sat at her desk, dull brown hair piled atop her head with at least two pens sticking out of the messy bun. They didn’t look at all like they’d been placed there with the purpose of holding her hair, rather that she’d needed a place to store them and had decided long ago that hair worked quite nicely as a storage selection. Barb’s dark eyes peered over the rim of a pair of rhinestoned cat-eye glasses, her voice so nasally that even though she’d already heard it before, Sloane had to struggle to suppress a giggle.
“Look, I’m just telling you what it says here, there’s a flag every time I type in the number.” Barb spoke as if she were talking to a child. “I’ll call for someone, see if they can clear up this mess,” she muttered, and the glance she cast at Sloane clearly stated that she felt the fault lay with her and not in their system.
Sloane turned her back to the desk so Barb wouldn’t see the face she made before dropping into a sulk. She glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand and cringed automatically. It’s not that she was embarrassed, well, okay she was embarrassed, but not by the fact that she’d gotten a ticket. It was more everyone’s reaction to it. Kit, Bastian, her mom, Seb. They’d all had the same reaction. The Sky Queen, the high-flying adrenaline-loving Sloane Taylor, getting pulled over and ticketed for driving too slow in the fast lane.
“Why is that even a thing?” She grumbled to herself, even though she knew now why it was. The same ones amused by her plight had been all-too-eager to explain exactly what she’d done wrong and why, and in incredible detail to top it off.
And none of it changed the fact that she was sure she’d been screwed over in some way, was surely facing something that would leave a permanent stain on her record. Sloane chewed her lip. Maybe she was supposed to call first? It would explain why the courthouse was oddly empty when she’d arrived. Maybe she’d committed some kind of ticket faux pas by trying to pay at this time? She wasn’t a trouble maker, not really (don’t tell Shawn), she was just trying to hand over her ticket and pay her fine. Then she’d be sure to drive within 10% of the speed limit at all times.
And then a thought occurred to her. Daylight savings. Maybe that has messed her up here as it had so many other times this week? With that in mind, Sloane turned back to Barb who still appeared to be waiting for something. She cleared her throat, getting the woman’s attention before smiling brightly.
“Hi, yeah, umm, I was wondering, is this because of the time? Like, it doesn’t say a time on there, I don’t think it does anyway, but I could have missed it and then with daylight savings I just—“ she didn’t even get to finish before Barb croaked out a single word.
“No.”
Sloane blinked, her nervousness rising.
“Oh. Okay. Well I guess that’s not it then,” said, giving a weak laugh. And then she started to babble. “What is daylight savings anyway? I mean, why do we even have it now? Or ever really? It’s like… time isn’t real, why are you trying to hurt me?” She asked leaning against the counter as she tried to work out some sort of camaraderie with the stoic Barb.
Not even a smile.
Challenge accepted.
“You know, I bet this all started with wizards. Yeah, like a group of them, and I just wanna know who these grandmaster wizards are and why we keep letting them play it so fast and loosey goosey with the sands of time because something’s just not adding up to me. Well, like all of it, actually. Like… it’s the audacity for me. These guys just got together for their wizard shark-cootchie session one night and they’re like ‘oh, let’s just sprinkle a little hour over here’ and then a few months later they meet back up but this time it’s a barbecue, and they’re like ‘oop, actually, kinda want that back now.’ And then they just—“ Sloane made a sound as if sucking through a straw, flinching when it echoed around the empty halls. “That was supposed to represent them sucking up time,” she said in an apologetic whisper.
Still no reaction from Barb beyond a blank, flat-faced stare.
“Tough crowd,” Sloane muttered, the sound of heels echoing on the floors drawing her notice.
“Ms. Taylor?” Came a voice from behind her.
Sloane turned around to face a woman wearing a dark suit with her hair pulled back much more neatly than Barb’s.
“Oh. Yeah. Hi.” Sloane said smiling. “Are you here to take the payment for the fine?”
“I’m sorry, you can’t pay that at the desk. We need to take you before the judge.” The woman said.
“What? Why?! I’m not late, I just want to pay the fine like it says here,” Sloane’s voice held more than a thread of panic as she held up the ticket, but the woman cut her off with a wave of her hand.
“I’m sorry, you can’t pay that at the desk, you need to be taken before the judge.” She repeated. “If you’ll follow me, please.”
Sloane cleared her throat, suddenly aware that her casual outfit meant for running errands wasn’t exactly suited for a courtroom. As she walked, she tried to make herself more presentable, smoothing her swinging pink ponytail, thankful she’d at least worn new-ish sneakers. The hoodie and jogging pants, there was nothing she could do with. Following behind the woman, she lifted her chin. If they’d wanted her to be more presentable, she should have been told that this particularly fine had to go through a judge. Safe in that conclusion, her confidence rose until they reached the large double doors that barred the way to the courtroom.
“Just in there if you please.” The woman said when Sloane hesitated.
“Are you sure this is right? I mean, it was just a ticket for…” She began but the woman turned and walked away, leaving her there.
“This is fine. I’ll just go in and explain everything to the judge. The judge will obviously be super intelligent and he or she will definitely see it’s all been a simple misunderstanding,” Sloane said softly to herself and then with a nod, she pushed open the doors of the court.
Her jaw dropped and she blinked, looking around the room at the people there.
“What the—“ Sloane couldn’t even finish the thought because there, on the judge’s bench, sat Robert Ooley, Louis sat beside him… acting as an impromptu gavel? “Umm—“ Sloane began, wincing when the bellowing started.
“About damn time you showed up, you think this is a joke? Flounder, get your defendant NOW!” Ooley roared, slamming Louis repeatedly, far more than was necessary in fact.
“I OBJECT! I call for the defendant, Sloane Anais Taylor, to be held in CONTEMPT OF COURT and for this to go ahead as Trial in Absentia! And to receive further punishment for having such a PRETENTIOUS middle name!” Came another, familiar voice.
“Johnny?!” Sloane gaped as the manager straightened his jacket, but before she could comment further, she found herself drawn over behind the desk set up for the defense, her roommate’s hand on her elbow. “Seb?! What’s going on?” She hissed at him. “What are you doing here, what’s… all this?” She asked, gesturing around them.
“I’m here to defend you, of course.” He said as if that were obvious.
“Defend me? What are you— wait is this one of your shows? A SEBEmpire production or something? That’s not funny, you could have told me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff, her manner easing as she felt more and more safe in this highly believable explanation.
“Hey.” Said Judge Ooley from behind the bench.
“Sloane, this is your trial. I’m defending you,” Seb said again.
“Hey!” The voice was more insistent this time, accompanied by the creaking sound of wood being gripped tightly.
“Don’t play games, you’re not a lawyer, and I was scared out of my mind!” Sloane hissed at Seb, not at all quietly. “Don’t you think this is all a bit much? And what is this going to have to do with Tempest? I should have known I wouldn’t have to go to court for a ticket for driving too slow, and it’s my first offense! I just want to pay my fine… wait, did you set me up to get pulled over?!” She gasped, glaring daggers at her best friend, firing off questions at him faster than he could answer.
“HEY!” A loud bang sounded through the courtroom as Judge Ooley smashed his gavel on the bench. Sloane could have sworn she saw a splinter of wood fly away from the blow, but whether it was from Louis or the heavy podium, she wasn’t sure.
“Counsel? Get your witness up to date, and if Ol’ Bob hears any more dumb shit out of your mouth, Bone Layer?” Judge Ooley shook Louis at her, glaring at her with the patchless eye. “Louis’ going to find out if you got shit for brains after all!”
Sloane gulped. Seb hasn’t needed to squeeze her arm to tell her to be silent, she suddenly wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
“I’ll require a moment, your honor,” Seb said, pulling Sloane in close so they could speak privately, but Sloane’s wide blue eyes were looking all around them.
“Why is Mr. Ooley the judge?!” Sloane hiss-whispered before her eyes fell on the bailiff who wore a mask across his face. “And Mr. Orson? He’s the bailiff?!”
“Will you shush?!” Said Seb in her ear.
“Your honor this is an OUTRAGE! Let me make one thing PERFECTLY CLEAR…” Said the prosecution lawyer.
Sloane’s head slowly turned in his direction.
“Johnny?!” She said again, though she'd recognized him earlier. And then she spotted the jury, scanning over them one by one as realization dawned on her - it was the roster. Angelica waved enthusiastically while Konrad Raab looked around as if not entirely sure why he was there. Beside them sat Travis Pierce, Montague Cervantes, Donovan Hastings, Eden Morgan, Gabriel Baal, Centurion, Lucy, JC, Carlson Rex, and BoolZ, who stared daggers at her.
“Mr…. Your… Ooley… Honor? Can I ask what’s going on here?” Sloane said. “I’m not just a little confused.”
“So not only are you late, you’re unprepared?!” Judge Ooley said looking down at Bailiff Orson.
“Scoff,” came the reply from the bailiff, his eyes rolling behind his mask.
“We’re here today to decide whether or not you—“ Ooley looked down at a note on his desk. “— Bone Layer… will be sent to hell.”
Silence followed, Seb squeezing her arm again.
Sloane blinked, her voice breaking as she spoke.
“... What?” Asked Sloane.
“You deaf, Bone?” Judge Ooley asked, squinting his eye at her.
“Your honor, I object…” Said Seb.
“On what grounds? They better be damn good ones, or you can get the same thing she does. Louis hasn’t had much use lately and maybe knocking your heads together will do the trick!” Shouted Judge Ooley.
Seb paused and then cleared his throat.
“It was mean.” Said Seb.
“Shut your mouth, Flounder.” Said Ooley before looking at Sloane. “We’re here to decide whether you’re going to hell or not.”
“Seb, this is your weirdest episode yet,” Sloane muttered before signing. She’d play her part even if everyone else was acting super weird and Seb wouldn’t just give her a script. “Okay, but like, isn’t that kinda… I don’t know… Extreme?” Sloane asked.
“You know what, Layer, the fact that you’re arguing with me in my court after you were late for the start of the trial? It’s not looking good for you.” Ooley said menacingly as he started to laugh.
Sloane’s brow furrowed as Orson began to laugh along with him, but it wasn’t a sound of mirth, more hollow. And then Johnny. Until finally the entire jury was laughing along, even Angelica, though Sloane felt she wasn’t sure what everyone was laughing at and was just playing along.
“Okay so… what’s the plan?” Sloane asked Seb, her skin crawling from the creepy laughter. “What are we going to do? And… where’s Hide?”
“Well first off, you’re going to win!” Seb said confidently before knocking all of his papers off the desk. He scurried beneath, Sloane dropping down with him to help him gather them. “And Hide, well— he’s what happens if you lose,” he muttered quickly, coughing to clear his throat. His eyes darted off to the side, Sloane following his gaze.
She took a deep breath.
Hide stood there to the side of Judge Ooley, his face divided in half, one-half in skull paint, the other side the face of the devil. He held no weapons, the clear intent being that he was weapon enough. Chains hung from his neck, a gold medallion tangled within them. Sloane recognized it as the faceplate of the World Championship, the title she’d be facing Hide for at Ignition.
“Don’t. Don’t look Sloane. It’ll… unnerve you,” Seb said, and his voice wavered.
As if feeling her eyes on him, Hide turned his head slightly to stare into the eyes of the Sky Queen.
“Too late,” Sloane said softly, and though she knew it was all for Seb’s show, she felt her stomach twist into knots.
Sloane had sat numbly, only barely listening as Seb spoke to her of strategy and their defense, the same as she’d done as the trial had officially come to order, her attention solely on Hide Yamazaki. Was he the executioner? The devil? Both? Something about all of it unnerved her, and she made a mental note to have a chat with Seb after it was all said and done, that she didn’t want to participate in any more spur of the moment or unplanned “specials” of his.
“Now this isn’t orthodox but it’s Old Bob’s fuckin’ court so we’re doing things the Old Bob way. Muscle Massager!! Flounder!!” Judge Ooley barked, Johnny and Seb both jumping to attention.
“Yes, your honor?” They said simultaneously before glaring at each other.
“Old Bob’s thinking of a number between 1 and 50. Whoever gets closest to it gets to call the first witness, and if you lose, Old Bob gets to break your hand with Louis. Now spit it out!”
Seb and Johnny both go pale, Johnny’s two brains clearly in overtime here.
“Uhh… that is to say…” sweat broke out on his forehead as he looked over at Seb, clearly wanting to be the first to give his number but also worried about the same.
“Twenty-three,” Seb finally said.
“WHAT?!” Johnny bellowed. “That was clearly MY intended number, and the Sebastard STOLE it!”
Louis came crashing down on the bench, more wood chips flying away. Judge Ooley pointed the bay at Sloane.
“Choose, Bone!”
“I OBJECT—“ Johnny began.
“SHUT UP!” Shouted Ooley, glaring at Johnny until he was sure the other man would be silent before looking back at Sloane.
“48?” Sloane gulped out.
“Flounder’s closer, he can call first witness, and if you say one more word about it not being fair, Muscle…” Judge Ooley waved the bat threateningly.
“But… but… but…” Johnny turned red with the effort of remaining silent, and Sloane could have sworn steam was about to billow from his ears. She stifled a giggle, drawing all eyes back to her. She suddenly remembered Judge Ooley’s threat and curled her fingers in against her palm.
“Umm, your honor, maybe we should just… get on with it… and save the breaking of body parts for after the trial?” She suggested. “That way it’s more efficient and you can do it all at once,” she said brightly.
“Sometimes you’re not a dumbass, Bone. Not often, though. Call your witness Flounder!”
Seb got to his feet, his voice booming confidently.
“The defense calls to the stand Lord Quilliam!”
“What?!” Sloane practically shrieked as she turned in her chair to look back. Behind them, the double doors she’d come through earlier opened to admit a little hedgehog she knew so well, his tiny feet a blur as he scurried down the aisle, under the bannisters, and directly over to the podium where he would testify. After a few audible grunts and more scurrying, he appeared on the stand, his nose wriggling with curiosity.
“Don’t you dare let him fall,” Sloane said suddenly, glaring at Bailiff Orson.
“Scoff,” was all she got in reply before a tiny Bible was placed under the hedgehog.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” Orson asked.
“I do,” came a high-pitched almost squeaking voice, Sloane looking around the room.
“You’re even doing voice acting for Quill? Omg that’s so cute!” She enthused, Seb shushing her before he got to his feet.
“Lord Quilliam. Please tell us how you know the defendant, Sloane Taylor.”
“Pinky pretty. Adopt hedgie, take care of me. Give me cute name, lots of belly rubs. All the best snacky-snacks,” the high-pitched squeak echoed around the room while Sloane grinned happily. “Pinky get up at weird hours some. Never grumpy with Quill, always smile and give buzzfeed quizzes.”
Seb nodded in approval.
“As you can see, my client is kind and giving to all creatures big and small. She adopted this poor little battle potato, saved him from the streets—“
“Pet store,” Quilliam corrected.
“A particularly dangerous pet store,” Seb qualified. “And she gave of her love and affection freely. I ask you… is this the sort of person who deserves to go to hell? I think not. I think not,” Seb said, directing the last at the jury.
Angelica jumped to her feet, applauding and whistling.
“Order!! Order in Old Bob’s goddamn court!” Judge Ooley banged his gavel. “Is that it? You called a poke rat up here to say she can take care of one?”
Seb nodded proudly.
“I did.”
“Christ. Muscle, you got anything to say? You always do,” Judge Ooley muttered.
Sputtering, Johnny rounded his table, squinting at Lord Quilliam.
“Now see here, you’re gonna tell Johnny the truth. It can’t be all sunshine and daisies, can it? Nobody is that PERFECT! Tell the truth!” He demanded.
Sloane gasped and jumped to her feet.
“Hey, you stop bullying my hedgie. It’s alright Quill, we’ll get some crunchies after this,” she said, Judge Ooley slamming Louis down, wood chips flying.
“Hey! Shut the fuck up!” He shouted, Sloane fixing him with a mutinous look. She barely suppressed the urge to stick her tongue out at him.
“Your honor, she’s bribing the witness!!!” Johnny complained before covering his mouth with his hand, though his voice was still audible. “I’ll give you twice what she will.”
“ENOUGH! Muscle, question that damn witness or so help Old Bob—“
“Okay, okay. Lord Quilliam, if you’d be so kind as to answer my earlier question before we were so RUDELY interrupted?” Johnny glared back at Sloane.
She did stick her tongue out at him.
“Pinky nice. And she smell pretty. But Pinky not take hedgie dissociative identity disorder seriously. Pinky knows Quill have issues but Pinky call Quill other half Darth Prickles. It hurts Quill’s feelings,” the hedgehog said, and though she knew it was fake, Sloane’s hands covered her mouth as her eyes watered. “Pinky let Seb use my poke em’s as grape holders.”
The jury gasped, Sloane glaring at Seb who shrugged sheepishly.
“And Seb even peed on me once,” Lord Quilliam finished.
The court erupted. Sloane turned to Seb, snatching up the papers he’d recovered and whacking him with them while the jury digested this news. Angelica looked far less happy than she had earlier, and the rest of the faces were a mixture of disgust and smug knowing.
Some of them wanted to see her fail.
“Do something!” Sloane hissed at Seb.
He jumped to his feet.
“Your honor, I object!” He shouted importantly.
“On what fucking grounds this time, and it better not be because it’s mean!” Judge Ooley said with a warning.
“I— well that is to say… the grapes came first. Before the, erm, bathroom incident, of course,” Seb stammered.
“Are you serious?! THAT’S what you dispute?!” Sloane leapt to her feet, punctuating her words with resounding thwacks of the sheaf of papers she held.
“As you can see, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Sloane Taylor’s kindness and love is conditional and not at all what it appears to be. She’s also very violent!” Johnny snapped.
Sloane quickly stopped what she was doing, sitting down, though she still looked incredibly irritated with her lawyer.
“The prosecution rests. The witness may go,” Johnny said with a sneer, the entire courtroom seeming to come to a standstill as they walk watched Lord Quilliam climb down from his perch and scuttle back down the aisle.
Sloane noticed Hide had moved closer, and she scooted her chair as far to the end of the table as she could, putting more distance between them, the noise from her chair earning a glare from Judge Ooley and an amused grin from Bailiff Orson.
“Next! Muscle Massager, call your witness! Old Bob doesn’t have all day!”
“While this MAY seem weird… well… it is weird, but THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS!” Johnny insisted. “I’m calling the Astro Creeps to the stand, yes, all THREE of them!”
All eyes in the courtroom turned to the double doors, waiting for them to open to admit the trio of Tempest, Daedalus, and Kosnar. They waited… and waited… and waited…. finally Judge Ooley sighed, sucking in a breath for what promised to be an elaborate and explicit rant.
“Oooo, that was a big one,” came an amused voice from the witness stand.
“Shit!” Shouted Old Bob, brandishing Louis at the Astro Creeps who had somehow appeared in the witness stand. Yes, all of them. It’s quite cramped.
Daedalus merely smiled, Tempest stared at the threatening bat, and Kosnar let out a low, gravelly growl.
“These bastards are worse than Scared. Put some bells on them,” Judge Ooley demanded, though no one moved to complete the order. “And swear them in, let’s get on with it!”
Bailiff Orson held up the Bible, but all three Creeps shake their head.
“That’s no good here. We brought our own,” he said as Tempest leaned forward and enthusiastically pulled a notebook out.
Sloane’s eyes narrowed, staring at the familiar book as Daedalus glanced around, his whisper somehow loud.
“It’s also evidence,” he said with a solemn nod, looking from Johnny to Seb to Judge Ooley and then to Sloane.
Recognizing the notebook, Sloane sat in confusion for a moment and then groaned. Tempest smiled at her before he and the other Creeps piled their hands on the notebook and recited their oath of truth before each of them spit to the left, narrowly missing Bailiff Orson.
“Now that that’s out of the way, what the hell is that?” Asked Judge Ooley, gesturing at the notebook.
Tempest took the notebook back, hugging it to his chest.
“It’s very special, a collection of some of the most bloodthirsty advice that’s been passed down by our own and brought together by one violent hand,” Tempest said, his eyes never leaving Sloane’s.
“Sloane?” Seb whispered beside her.
“It’s… my hardcore Bible I put together when I was doing the Ultraviolent and Chaos matches,” Sloane said quietly, swiftly.
Tempest’s smile grew knowing.
“Your honor, I would like to enter this so-called Hardcore Bible into evidence!” Johnny said, though he didn’t move to take it from Tempest. “Evidence against the goodness of Sloane Taylor!”
“Against? Oh no, no, no, we did not bring this as evidence against the Final Girl, we brought it in support of her,” Daedalus said, shaking his head. Tempest and Kosnar nodded beside him.
Sloane felt her pulse quicken. How had they…?
“FOR?! How could this possibly be for?!” Johnny demanded.
“Because the Final Girl does what it takes to survive. She gathered all of this to teach herself, and then… she evolved,” Tempest said, looking at the jury. “Not even we know exactly what she’s evolved into. I wonder if she does,” he said thoughtfully, looking to Sloane.
“Ms. Taylor is strong, determined. She bends just enough, but she doesn’t break, and that bending only tempers the steel in her spine. It’s no small feat to stand against the Tempest, and yet, she did. I admit, I underestimated her resolve and how resourceful she is,” Daedalus said shrewdly. “But she is a winner. She is the Final Girl. And even if you send her to hell, she’ll find her way out. And then what will you do?” His beady eyes stared at everyone in the courtroom in turn.
“Right now, she wants to get heaven because she thinks she’s an angel. She kinda looks like one,” Tempest said and then flushed. “And that’s a favor to you guys because if she’s in Heaven and thinks she’s an Angel, she doesn’t have to fight you.” He grinned, his face paint stretching against his skin. “I’ve fought the Final Girl. Multiple times. It was an— “ he breathed in deeply, his eyelids fluttering closed for a moment “experience I won’t forget. She looks like an Angel, but she fights like a devil,” he said, looking directly at Hide.
Murmurs broke out, Johnny already stammering. Seb leaned over, whispering in her ear.
“That could have been much worse. In fact, I think they helped you,” he said, and then aloud to the judge, “No questions, your honor. Ms. Taylor and I thank the Astro Creeps for their candor.”
“THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS!” Johnny bellowed. “I called these weird bastards here to support ME, ME, MY case, and they come out and support her?! Get out of my witness stand!!”
The Creeps were already slinking out, Tempest tossing a wink at Sloane and a grin at Seb as they departed.
“YOUR witness stand?! Does Old Bob need to come down there and teach you a lesson about whose witness stand that is?!”
Johnny stammered again.
“I-I’d just like to point out that while the Creeps commented favorably on Ms. Taylor, that in and of itself is damning!” Johnny crowed, looking toward the jury who seemed to consider his words with nods.
Sloane groaned.
“Tell me you’ve got something good saved up,” she said to Seb, realizing she was getting into this.
“His case is about to be dust,” Seb said emphatically before rising.
“Your honor, I have one more character witness to call, and it’s the defendant’s own father—“
“What?” Sloane said, her breath leaving her in a whoosh, her hands gripping the arms of her chair. “Seb that’s not funny..”
“— Richard Taylor!” Seb finished, reaching down to squeeze her shoulder.
Just then, the doors swung inward and a white light appeared in the entryway. From within that light stepped a figure, Sloane turning in her seat to see a man frozen by time, never to age beyond the young adult he’d been when he’d… died.
Reality slammed into her. There was no way, it was him, not an actor or a lookalike, him. Seb would never do this to her, not for ratings, not for anything, which could only mean that she was dead… this was a real trial… and the man coming closer and closer was her father.
Sloane’s head swam dizzily, tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks though whether it was for herself or her father, she wasn’t entirely sure. Perhaps both. There were so many things she wanted to say, so many questions she wanted to ask, and yet all of it came out in one word.
“Dad?” She reached for him, the tears coming faster… but he didn’t even look her way, made no move to reach back or even acknowledge her. She wanted to get up, to run to him, hug him and cry, to just tell him everything he’d missed, everything she was doing.
Was. She was dead now. How?
“Are you okay? Sloane?”
Sloane shook herself, forcing herself into the present as she stared at Seb. Unable to actually get the words out, she nodded. He quickly squeezed her hand and then approached the bench. Sloane realized she must have missed the swearing in, she was so deep in her thoughts.
“Mr. Taylor. I suppose you know why we’re here today.” Seb said.
“I do,” Richard Taylor’s voice was smooth and of a rich timbre, and just hearing again it made Sloane ache.
Dad. Here. Now. And… I think he’s gonna be proud of me, she thought.
“A trial to weigh whether Sloane Taylor, your daughter, should be sent to Hell following her untimely death,” Seb said, walking by slowly with his hands in his pockets before aiming one dramatically in her direction.
Sloane started to roll her eyes but stopped when she realized her father was finally looking at her. She smiled at him, her vulnerability like a beacon as she regarded him with tear-stained cheeks.
“Are you asking me if she should?” Richard Taylor clarified.
Seb frowned, clearing his throat.
“Not exactly, you’re more supposed to talk about what kind of person she is,” Seb said.
“Of course, of course,” Mr. Taylor scratched his stubbled chin. “Well, I suppose I should qualify all this by saying I’ve just sort of been looking over Sloane, her brother, and their mother from above, so it’s just based on what I see,” he said to the jury. “And what I see— I can’t say I’m proud of how my daughter turned out.”
It was like a knife to the chest. Sloane froze, staring at the witness stand in growing horror.
“Sure she’s determined and focused sometimes, but not when it matters. Not like it would have mattered. And you know, that just makes her mother’s many sacrifices even worse. My wife worked her fingers to the bone, sometimes three jobs at a time just to be able to have even the consideration of giving Sloane that single-minded dream of hers. And all because we watched some wrestling when her and Kit were little. If we’d watched Jeopardy, would she actually be intelligent?” Richard Taylor shook his head bitterly, the courtroom deathly silent. He looked right at his daughter. “You know, if you’d truly given yourself over to it, truly put everything you had into the sport? I wouldn’t think your mother’s sacrifices were such a shame. But she did all that only to watch you give up and fail when it counts, to whine when it doesn’t go your way, to see something she worked to give you squandered time and time again. Honestly, Sloane, I wish I’d never taken you to that first live show; I wish I’d never made it a thing with you and your brother. You’re selfish and you put your hope and dreams far ahead of anyone else’s. Do I think you should go to Hell? I don’t know. But you shouldn’t be in Heaven either. I don’t want to see what you’ve become.”
The world around her became a low hum as her father’s words repeated over and over in her head. How many times had she longed for him to see where she was now? How many times had she wondered if he’d be proud of her hard work? How many times… And then he was gone. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed him leave, hadn’t heard Johnny’s remarks though he was no doubt crowing that Seb’s character witness had ended up being for him.
And Hide was so much closer now.
Executioner.
The Devil.
Was that what had happened? Had it been her match, something gone wrong and this was her mind’s way of processing it? Was it something else?
Executioner.
The Devil.
Seb was floundering, and it was clear he hadn’t expected Richard Taylor’s testimony to go as it had. Sloane felt herself rise.
Executioner.
The Devil.
“I’d like to testify for myself,” she said forcefully. Not asking, demanding.
“Get on with it,” Judge Ooley growled, glowering when she moved out from behind the table, skirting away from Hide. Sloane approached Bailiff Orson, placing her hand on the Bible and mumbling the words as she was sworn in.
It was different looking out at the courtroom from this view, and she found it intimidating, all eyes on her. Though she’d been the subject of this entire thing, she had never felt so watched.
“So, I know from where you’re sitting, this looks pretty bad. My own hedgie feels like I’m making fun of him all the time, the guy who was supposed to be here to give evidence against me thought he was giving evidence for me, but was actually giving evidence against me… And my dad…” She paused, trying to maintain her composure. “Anyway… What I’m trying to say is that there’s more to me, so much more to me than just the things that you’ve heard here today.”
Sloane did everything she could to avoid Hide’s gaze. As he watched her from afar, she could feel it burning against her skin.
“This one moment is defining for me, this moment, right here, right now. And I know, it’s about more than that, I know it’s about everything I’ve done and everything I will do, I understand it’s about every single decision I’ve ever made and ever will make. Because we’re all made of the choices in our lives. I’m the product of the stories of my past; who I am now, is made from layer upon layer of my history, like the layers of a tree. Or an onion, maybe,” she said with a small smile and a shrug. .
“You got a point here, Bone?” Asked Judge Ooley.
“Of course. Well I think I do, anyway. I guess you guys will be the judges of that,” Sloane said, looking over at the jury.
“I’ve never claimed to be perfect. I’ve made bad choices. Quite a few of them, in fact, but who hasn’t? Sure, I call Quill ‘Darth Prickles’, but I do it out of a place of love. Others would have given him up or been mean to him, but I never even considered it. I love him, even when he’s cranky, and I stuck by him because I’m loyal. And sure, Tempest and Co painted a picture of me as dangerous and violent, but when you do what we do, is that really a bad thing? I’ve had to fight every day to get where I am in the face of people laughing at me, calling me names, and constantly underestimating me, telling me I couldn’t make it. And you know what? Everything they told me I couldn’t do? I’ve done it. And then I did the next thing and the next and the next,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice.
“And as for my dad? Well, if he’s not proud of me…” she paused, her voice that has been strong only moments ago filled with her pain. “That hurts. And for a minute when I heard that, I thought it would make a difference, make me change my mind, but I’ve realized it doesn’t. I don’t need him to be proud of me. I spent my entire life trying to live up to what I thought he wanted me to be and ignored the fact that I’m surrounded by people who are all super proud of me. My mom. Kit. My best friend.” She glanced down at Seb who smiled and nodded. “And myself. Because I’m proud of myself and what I’ve accomplished. Truth is, I’m not sure I ever really believed I would do the things I’ve done. Even when I fought against what others said I couldn’t do, I fought against myself as well. And anyone who’s had that fight knows it’s the hardest of them all.”
Sloane glanced over at Hide who had stopped moving towards her, was standing, watching her, his chains rattling gently.
“I'm not afraid anymore. Not of the executioner… Not of the Devil. And why should I be? Because of pain? Because it's hard? I've been hurt. I've walked the hard path, and I'm ready to go further than I ever have. I'm ready to go harder than I've ever needed to go. I don’t know what happened to me. I don’t know if I made it to our match or if this was a result of our match or if this is to decide what happens to me when I eventually die. But I want you to know, Hide… All of you. If I've not stepped into that ring yet? It's you who should be afraid. Because I'm ready, more ready than I've ever been. I’m going to give it my all, and you’ll get every bit of the Sky Queen and the Final Girl I can give you. Because they’re both in me, both a part of me just as much as the Bubblegum Princess,” she said with a smile.
“That doesn't make me evil, or worthy of a place in Hell. It makes me worthy of a place in history. Come what may? I'll make sure you all remember me, but it won't be because the Devil dragged me to his depths.” She said as she watched Hide give her a slow nod. “It will be because I'm worth remembering.”
“Are you done yet? Christ you’re making Old Bob’s head hurt,” Judge Ooley complained. “You two better speak now or forever hold your peace!”
“We’re not up here to get HITCHED, this is something IMPORTANT,” Johnny said emphatically. “And… ahem… The Johnny rests,” he grumbled.
“I’m good, too,” Seb said, smiling as his client joined him.
“About time. Now you guys on the jury… do your jury bullshit, Old Bob doesn’t give a fuck what that is, just get it done—“ as he spoke, the jury members seemed to converge on one another, clearly discussing what they’d just seen and heard… and their conversation lasted approximately three seconds.
Centurion got to his feet.
“Yeah, we’ve already come to a verdict,” he said, passing a piece of paper to Bailiff Orson who opened it, read it, and… said nothing.
“You heard the man, Bone Layer, get your ass up and learn your fate so Old Bob can go home and polish Louis!”
Sloane got up, but instead of standing in place, she moved up beside Hide, facing the verdict head-on.
Had she imagined a smile on the face of her executioner, the devil?
“The verdict is—“ Holden Orson began.
…
“Seb? Are you even listening to me?” Sloane asked, leaning over the table to snap her fingers in his face.
“Hmm? Oh yes, of course, what did they say? What was the verdict?” He asked, straightening on his stool, eyes bleary. The apartment was mostly dark with a lamp on as well as the ligh over the stove. Sloane had turned them both on when he kept falling asleep during her telling of her dream.
“I’m not telling,” Sloane said, crossing her arms, unsatisfied with his response.
“What? What the fuck, Sloane? It’s 3 AM, at least tell me how your dream ended! Sloane!!” Seb shouted, but it was no use.
“You want to find out how it ended? Watch my match Monday,” Sloane said with a mischievous grin, and then she picked up Lord Quilliam before flouncing back to her room.
“Damn night brain,” Seb grumbled, but with a look on his face that said he'd do precisely what Sloane had suggested.
The woman, Barb, at least that’s what her name badge stated, sat at her desk, dull brown hair piled atop her head with at least two pens sticking out of the messy bun. They didn’t look at all like they’d been placed there with the purpose of holding her hair, rather that she’d needed a place to store them and had decided long ago that hair worked quite nicely as a storage selection. Barb’s dark eyes peered over the rim of a pair of rhinestoned cat-eye glasses, her voice so nasally that even though she’d already heard it before, Sloane had to struggle to suppress a giggle.
“Look, I’m just telling you what it says here, there’s a flag every time I type in the number.” Barb spoke as if she were talking to a child. “I’ll call for someone, see if they can clear up this mess,” she muttered, and the glance she cast at Sloane clearly stated that she felt the fault lay with her and not in their system.
Sloane turned her back to the desk so Barb wouldn’t see the face she made before dropping into a sulk. She glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand and cringed automatically. It’s not that she was embarrassed, well, okay she was embarrassed, but not by the fact that she’d gotten a ticket. It was more everyone’s reaction to it. Kit, Bastian, her mom, Seb. They’d all had the same reaction. The Sky Queen, the high-flying adrenaline-loving Sloane Taylor, getting pulled over and ticketed for driving too slow in the fast lane.
“Why is that even a thing?” She grumbled to herself, even though she knew now why it was. The same ones amused by her plight had been all-too-eager to explain exactly what she’d done wrong and why, and in incredible detail to top it off.
And none of it changed the fact that she was sure she’d been screwed over in some way, was surely facing something that would leave a permanent stain on her record. Sloane chewed her lip. Maybe she was supposed to call first? It would explain why the courthouse was oddly empty when she’d arrived. Maybe she’d committed some kind of ticket faux pas by trying to pay at this time? She wasn’t a trouble maker, not really (don’t tell Shawn), she was just trying to hand over her ticket and pay her fine. Then she’d be sure to drive within 10% of the speed limit at all times.
And then a thought occurred to her. Daylight savings. Maybe that has messed her up here as it had so many other times this week? With that in mind, Sloane turned back to Barb who still appeared to be waiting for something. She cleared her throat, getting the woman’s attention before smiling brightly.
“Hi, yeah, umm, I was wondering, is this because of the time? Like, it doesn’t say a time on there, I don’t think it does anyway, but I could have missed it and then with daylight savings I just—“ she didn’t even get to finish before Barb croaked out a single word.
“No.”
Sloane blinked, her nervousness rising.
“Oh. Okay. Well I guess that’s not it then,” said, giving a weak laugh. And then she started to babble. “What is daylight savings anyway? I mean, why do we even have it now? Or ever really? It’s like… time isn’t real, why are you trying to hurt me?” She asked leaning against the counter as she tried to work out some sort of camaraderie with the stoic Barb.
Not even a smile.
Challenge accepted.
“You know, I bet this all started with wizards. Yeah, like a group of them, and I just wanna know who these grandmaster wizards are and why we keep letting them play it so fast and loosey goosey with the sands of time because something’s just not adding up to me. Well, like all of it, actually. Like… it’s the audacity for me. These guys just got together for their wizard shark-cootchie session one night and they’re like ‘oh, let’s just sprinkle a little hour over here’ and then a few months later they meet back up but this time it’s a barbecue, and they’re like ‘oop, actually, kinda want that back now.’ And then they just—“ Sloane made a sound as if sucking through a straw, flinching when it echoed around the empty halls. “That was supposed to represent them sucking up time,” she said in an apologetic whisper.
Still no reaction from Barb beyond a blank, flat-faced stare.
“Tough crowd,” Sloane muttered, the sound of heels echoing on the floors drawing her notice.
“Ms. Taylor?” Came a voice from behind her.
Sloane turned around to face a woman wearing a dark suit with her hair pulled back much more neatly than Barb’s.
“Oh. Yeah. Hi.” Sloane said smiling. “Are you here to take the payment for the fine?”
“I’m sorry, you can’t pay that at the desk. We need to take you before the judge.” The woman said.
“What? Why?! I’m not late, I just want to pay the fine like it says here,” Sloane’s voice held more than a thread of panic as she held up the ticket, but the woman cut her off with a wave of her hand.
“I’m sorry, you can’t pay that at the desk, you need to be taken before the judge.” She repeated. “If you’ll follow me, please.”
Sloane cleared her throat, suddenly aware that her casual outfit meant for running errands wasn’t exactly suited for a courtroom. As she walked, she tried to make herself more presentable, smoothing her swinging pink ponytail, thankful she’d at least worn new-ish sneakers. The hoodie and jogging pants, there was nothing she could do with. Following behind the woman, she lifted her chin. If they’d wanted her to be more presentable, she should have been told that this particularly fine had to go through a judge. Safe in that conclusion, her confidence rose until they reached the large double doors that barred the way to the courtroom.
“Just in there if you please.” The woman said when Sloane hesitated.
“Are you sure this is right? I mean, it was just a ticket for…” She began but the woman turned and walked away, leaving her there.
“This is fine. I’ll just go in and explain everything to the judge. The judge will obviously be super intelligent and he or she will definitely see it’s all been a simple misunderstanding,” Sloane said softly to herself and then with a nod, she pushed open the doors of the court.
Her jaw dropped and she blinked, looking around the room at the people there.
“What the—“ Sloane couldn’t even finish the thought because there, on the judge’s bench, sat Robert Ooley, Louis sat beside him… acting as an impromptu gavel? “Umm—“ Sloane began, wincing when the bellowing started.
“About damn time you showed up, you think this is a joke? Flounder, get your defendant NOW!” Ooley roared, slamming Louis repeatedly, far more than was necessary in fact.
“I OBJECT! I call for the defendant, Sloane Anais Taylor, to be held in CONTEMPT OF COURT and for this to go ahead as Trial in Absentia! And to receive further punishment for having such a PRETENTIOUS middle name!” Came another, familiar voice.
“Johnny?!” Sloane gaped as the manager straightened his jacket, but before she could comment further, she found herself drawn over behind the desk set up for the defense, her roommate’s hand on her elbow. “Seb?! What’s going on?” She hissed at him. “What are you doing here, what’s… all this?” She asked, gesturing around them.
“I’m here to defend you, of course.” He said as if that were obvious.
“Defend me? What are you— wait is this one of your shows? A SEBEmpire production or something? That’s not funny, you could have told me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff, her manner easing as she felt more and more safe in this highly believable explanation.
“Hey.” Said Judge Ooley from behind the bench.
“Sloane, this is your trial. I’m defending you,” Seb said again.
“Hey!” The voice was more insistent this time, accompanied by the creaking sound of wood being gripped tightly.
“Don’t play games, you’re not a lawyer, and I was scared out of my mind!” Sloane hissed at Seb, not at all quietly. “Don’t you think this is all a bit much? And what is this going to have to do with Tempest? I should have known I wouldn’t have to go to court for a ticket for driving too slow, and it’s my first offense! I just want to pay my fine… wait, did you set me up to get pulled over?!” She gasped, glaring daggers at her best friend, firing off questions at him faster than he could answer.
“HEY!” A loud bang sounded through the courtroom as Judge Ooley smashed his gavel on the bench. Sloane could have sworn she saw a splinter of wood fly away from the blow, but whether it was from Louis or the heavy podium, she wasn’t sure.
“Counsel? Get your witness up to date, and if Ol’ Bob hears any more dumb shit out of your mouth, Bone Layer?” Judge Ooley shook Louis at her, glaring at her with the patchless eye. “Louis’ going to find out if you got shit for brains after all!”
Sloane gulped. Seb hasn’t needed to squeeze her arm to tell her to be silent, she suddenly wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
“I’ll require a moment, your honor,” Seb said, pulling Sloane in close so they could speak privately, but Sloane’s wide blue eyes were looking all around them.
“Why is Mr. Ooley the judge?!” Sloane hiss-whispered before her eyes fell on the bailiff who wore a mask across his face. “And Mr. Orson? He’s the bailiff?!”
“Will you shush?!” Said Seb in her ear.
“Your honor this is an OUTRAGE! Let me make one thing PERFECTLY CLEAR…” Said the prosecution lawyer.
Sloane’s head slowly turned in his direction.
“Johnny?!” She said again, though she'd recognized him earlier. And then she spotted the jury, scanning over them one by one as realization dawned on her - it was the roster. Angelica waved enthusiastically while Konrad Raab looked around as if not entirely sure why he was there. Beside them sat Travis Pierce, Montague Cervantes, Donovan Hastings, Eden Morgan, Gabriel Baal, Centurion, Lucy, JC, Carlson Rex, and BoolZ, who stared daggers at her.
“Mr…. Your… Ooley… Honor? Can I ask what’s going on here?” Sloane said. “I’m not just a little confused.”
“So not only are you late, you’re unprepared?!” Judge Ooley said looking down at Bailiff Orson.
“Scoff,” came the reply from the bailiff, his eyes rolling behind his mask.
“We’re here today to decide whether or not you—“ Ooley looked down at a note on his desk. “— Bone Layer… will be sent to hell.”
Silence followed, Seb squeezing her arm again.
Sloane blinked, her voice breaking as she spoke.
“... What?” Asked Sloane.
“You deaf, Bone?” Judge Ooley asked, squinting his eye at her.
“Your honor, I object…” Said Seb.
“On what grounds? They better be damn good ones, or you can get the same thing she does. Louis hasn’t had much use lately and maybe knocking your heads together will do the trick!” Shouted Judge Ooley.
Seb paused and then cleared his throat.
“It was mean.” Said Seb.
“Shut your mouth, Flounder.” Said Ooley before looking at Sloane. “We’re here to decide whether you’re going to hell or not.”
“Seb, this is your weirdest episode yet,” Sloane muttered before signing. She’d play her part even if everyone else was acting super weird and Seb wouldn’t just give her a script. “Okay, but like, isn’t that kinda… I don’t know… Extreme?” Sloane asked.
“You know what, Layer, the fact that you’re arguing with me in my court after you were late for the start of the trial? It’s not looking good for you.” Ooley said menacingly as he started to laugh.
Sloane’s brow furrowed as Orson began to laugh along with him, but it wasn’t a sound of mirth, more hollow. And then Johnny. Until finally the entire jury was laughing along, even Angelica, though Sloane felt she wasn’t sure what everyone was laughing at and was just playing along.
“Okay so… what’s the plan?” Sloane asked Seb, her skin crawling from the creepy laughter. “What are we going to do? And… where’s Hide?”
“Well first off, you’re going to win!” Seb said confidently before knocking all of his papers off the desk. He scurried beneath, Sloane dropping down with him to help him gather them. “And Hide, well— he’s what happens if you lose,” he muttered quickly, coughing to clear his throat. His eyes darted off to the side, Sloane following his gaze.
She took a deep breath.
Hide stood there to the side of Judge Ooley, his face divided in half, one-half in skull paint, the other side the face of the devil. He held no weapons, the clear intent being that he was weapon enough. Chains hung from his neck, a gold medallion tangled within them. Sloane recognized it as the faceplate of the World Championship, the title she’d be facing Hide for at Ignition.
“Don’t. Don’t look Sloane. It’ll… unnerve you,” Seb said, and his voice wavered.
As if feeling her eyes on him, Hide turned his head slightly to stare into the eyes of the Sky Queen.
“Too late,” Sloane said softly, and though she knew it was all for Seb’s show, she felt her stomach twist into knots.
Sloane had sat numbly, only barely listening as Seb spoke to her of strategy and their defense, the same as she’d done as the trial had officially come to order, her attention solely on Hide Yamazaki. Was he the executioner? The devil? Both? Something about all of it unnerved her, and she made a mental note to have a chat with Seb after it was all said and done, that she didn’t want to participate in any more spur of the moment or unplanned “specials” of his.
“Now this isn’t orthodox but it’s Old Bob’s fuckin’ court so we’re doing things the Old Bob way. Muscle Massager!! Flounder!!” Judge Ooley barked, Johnny and Seb both jumping to attention.
“Yes, your honor?” They said simultaneously before glaring at each other.
“Old Bob’s thinking of a number between 1 and 50. Whoever gets closest to it gets to call the first witness, and if you lose, Old Bob gets to break your hand with Louis. Now spit it out!”
Seb and Johnny both go pale, Johnny’s two brains clearly in overtime here.
“Uhh… that is to say…” sweat broke out on his forehead as he looked over at Seb, clearly wanting to be the first to give his number but also worried about the same.
“Twenty-three,” Seb finally said.
“WHAT?!” Johnny bellowed. “That was clearly MY intended number, and the Sebastard STOLE it!”
Louis came crashing down on the bench, more wood chips flying away. Judge Ooley pointed the bay at Sloane.
“Choose, Bone!”
“I OBJECT—“ Johnny began.
“SHUT UP!” Shouted Ooley, glaring at Johnny until he was sure the other man would be silent before looking back at Sloane.
“48?” Sloane gulped out.
“Flounder’s closer, he can call first witness, and if you say one more word about it not being fair, Muscle…” Judge Ooley waved the bat threateningly.
“But… but… but…” Johnny turned red with the effort of remaining silent, and Sloane could have sworn steam was about to billow from his ears. She stifled a giggle, drawing all eyes back to her. She suddenly remembered Judge Ooley’s threat and curled her fingers in against her palm.
“Umm, your honor, maybe we should just… get on with it… and save the breaking of body parts for after the trial?” She suggested. “That way it’s more efficient and you can do it all at once,” she said brightly.
“Sometimes you’re not a dumbass, Bone. Not often, though. Call your witness Flounder!”
Seb got to his feet, his voice booming confidently.
“The defense calls to the stand Lord Quilliam!”
“What?!” Sloane practically shrieked as she turned in her chair to look back. Behind them, the double doors she’d come through earlier opened to admit a little hedgehog she knew so well, his tiny feet a blur as he scurried down the aisle, under the bannisters, and directly over to the podium where he would testify. After a few audible grunts and more scurrying, he appeared on the stand, his nose wriggling with curiosity.
“Don’t you dare let him fall,” Sloane said suddenly, glaring at Bailiff Orson.
“Scoff,” was all she got in reply before a tiny Bible was placed under the hedgehog.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” Orson asked.
“I do,” came a high-pitched almost squeaking voice, Sloane looking around the room.
“You’re even doing voice acting for Quill? Omg that’s so cute!” She enthused, Seb shushing her before he got to his feet.
“Lord Quilliam. Please tell us how you know the defendant, Sloane Taylor.”
“Pinky pretty. Adopt hedgie, take care of me. Give me cute name, lots of belly rubs. All the best snacky-snacks,” the high-pitched squeak echoed around the room while Sloane grinned happily. “Pinky get up at weird hours some. Never grumpy with Quill, always smile and give buzzfeed quizzes.”
Seb nodded in approval.
“As you can see, my client is kind and giving to all creatures big and small. She adopted this poor little battle potato, saved him from the streets—“
“Pet store,” Quilliam corrected.
“A particularly dangerous pet store,” Seb qualified. “And she gave of her love and affection freely. I ask you… is this the sort of person who deserves to go to hell? I think not. I think not,” Seb said, directing the last at the jury.
Angelica jumped to her feet, applauding and whistling.
“Order!! Order in Old Bob’s goddamn court!” Judge Ooley banged his gavel. “Is that it? You called a poke rat up here to say she can take care of one?”
Seb nodded proudly.
“I did.”
“Christ. Muscle, you got anything to say? You always do,” Judge Ooley muttered.
Sputtering, Johnny rounded his table, squinting at Lord Quilliam.
“Now see here, you’re gonna tell Johnny the truth. It can’t be all sunshine and daisies, can it? Nobody is that PERFECT! Tell the truth!” He demanded.
Sloane gasped and jumped to her feet.
“Hey, you stop bullying my hedgie. It’s alright Quill, we’ll get some crunchies after this,” she said, Judge Ooley slamming Louis down, wood chips flying.
“Hey! Shut the fuck up!” He shouted, Sloane fixing him with a mutinous look. She barely suppressed the urge to stick her tongue out at him.
“Your honor, she’s bribing the witness!!!” Johnny complained before covering his mouth with his hand, though his voice was still audible. “I’ll give you twice what she will.”
“ENOUGH! Muscle, question that damn witness or so help Old Bob—“
“Okay, okay. Lord Quilliam, if you’d be so kind as to answer my earlier question before we were so RUDELY interrupted?” Johnny glared back at Sloane.
She did stick her tongue out at him.
“Pinky nice. And she smell pretty. But Pinky not take hedgie dissociative identity disorder seriously. Pinky knows Quill have issues but Pinky call Quill other half Darth Prickles. It hurts Quill’s feelings,” the hedgehog said, and though she knew it was fake, Sloane’s hands covered her mouth as her eyes watered. “Pinky let Seb use my poke em’s as grape holders.”
The jury gasped, Sloane glaring at Seb who shrugged sheepishly.
“And Seb even peed on me once,” Lord Quilliam finished.
The court erupted. Sloane turned to Seb, snatching up the papers he’d recovered and whacking him with them while the jury digested this news. Angelica looked far less happy than she had earlier, and the rest of the faces were a mixture of disgust and smug knowing.
Some of them wanted to see her fail.
“Do something!” Sloane hissed at Seb.
He jumped to his feet.
“Your honor, I object!” He shouted importantly.
“On what fucking grounds this time, and it better not be because it’s mean!” Judge Ooley said with a warning.
“I— well that is to say… the grapes came first. Before the, erm, bathroom incident, of course,” Seb stammered.
“Are you serious?! THAT’S what you dispute?!” Sloane leapt to her feet, punctuating her words with resounding thwacks of the sheaf of papers she held.
“As you can see, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Sloane Taylor’s kindness and love is conditional and not at all what it appears to be. She’s also very violent!” Johnny snapped.
Sloane quickly stopped what she was doing, sitting down, though she still looked incredibly irritated with her lawyer.
“The prosecution rests. The witness may go,” Johnny said with a sneer, the entire courtroom seeming to come to a standstill as they walk watched Lord Quilliam climb down from his perch and scuttle back down the aisle.
Sloane noticed Hide had moved closer, and she scooted her chair as far to the end of the table as she could, putting more distance between them, the noise from her chair earning a glare from Judge Ooley and an amused grin from Bailiff Orson.
“Next! Muscle Massager, call your witness! Old Bob doesn’t have all day!”
“While this MAY seem weird… well… it is weird, but THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS!” Johnny insisted. “I’m calling the Astro Creeps to the stand, yes, all THREE of them!”
All eyes in the courtroom turned to the double doors, waiting for them to open to admit the trio of Tempest, Daedalus, and Kosnar. They waited… and waited… and waited…. finally Judge Ooley sighed, sucking in a breath for what promised to be an elaborate and explicit rant.
“Oooo, that was a big one,” came an amused voice from the witness stand.
“Shit!” Shouted Old Bob, brandishing Louis at the Astro Creeps who had somehow appeared in the witness stand. Yes, all of them. It’s quite cramped.
Daedalus merely smiled, Tempest stared at the threatening bat, and Kosnar let out a low, gravelly growl.
“These bastards are worse than Scared. Put some bells on them,” Judge Ooley demanded, though no one moved to complete the order. “And swear them in, let’s get on with it!”
Bailiff Orson held up the Bible, but all three Creeps shake their head.
“That’s no good here. We brought our own,” he said as Tempest leaned forward and enthusiastically pulled a notebook out.
Sloane’s eyes narrowed, staring at the familiar book as Daedalus glanced around, his whisper somehow loud.
“It’s also evidence,” he said with a solemn nod, looking from Johnny to Seb to Judge Ooley and then to Sloane.
Recognizing the notebook, Sloane sat in confusion for a moment and then groaned. Tempest smiled at her before he and the other Creeps piled their hands on the notebook and recited their oath of truth before each of them spit to the left, narrowly missing Bailiff Orson.
“Now that that’s out of the way, what the hell is that?” Asked Judge Ooley, gesturing at the notebook.
Tempest took the notebook back, hugging it to his chest.
“It’s very special, a collection of some of the most bloodthirsty advice that’s been passed down by our own and brought together by one violent hand,” Tempest said, his eyes never leaving Sloane’s.
“Sloane?” Seb whispered beside her.
“It’s… my hardcore Bible I put together when I was doing the Ultraviolent and Chaos matches,” Sloane said quietly, swiftly.
Tempest’s smile grew knowing.
“Your honor, I would like to enter this so-called Hardcore Bible into evidence!” Johnny said, though he didn’t move to take it from Tempest. “Evidence against the goodness of Sloane Taylor!”
“Against? Oh no, no, no, we did not bring this as evidence against the Final Girl, we brought it in support of her,” Daedalus said, shaking his head. Tempest and Kosnar nodded beside him.
Sloane felt her pulse quicken. How had they…?
“FOR?! How could this possibly be for?!” Johnny demanded.
“Because the Final Girl does what it takes to survive. She gathered all of this to teach herself, and then… she evolved,” Tempest said, looking at the jury. “Not even we know exactly what she’s evolved into. I wonder if she does,” he said thoughtfully, looking to Sloane.
“Ms. Taylor is strong, determined. She bends just enough, but she doesn’t break, and that bending only tempers the steel in her spine. It’s no small feat to stand against the Tempest, and yet, she did. I admit, I underestimated her resolve and how resourceful she is,” Daedalus said shrewdly. “But she is a winner. She is the Final Girl. And even if you send her to hell, she’ll find her way out. And then what will you do?” His beady eyes stared at everyone in the courtroom in turn.
“Right now, she wants to get heaven because she thinks she’s an angel. She kinda looks like one,” Tempest said and then flushed. “And that’s a favor to you guys because if she’s in Heaven and thinks she’s an Angel, she doesn’t have to fight you.” He grinned, his face paint stretching against his skin. “I’ve fought the Final Girl. Multiple times. It was an— “ he breathed in deeply, his eyelids fluttering closed for a moment “experience I won’t forget. She looks like an Angel, but she fights like a devil,” he said, looking directly at Hide.
Murmurs broke out, Johnny already stammering. Seb leaned over, whispering in her ear.
“That could have been much worse. In fact, I think they helped you,” he said, and then aloud to the judge, “No questions, your honor. Ms. Taylor and I thank the Astro Creeps for their candor.”
“THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS!” Johnny bellowed. “I called these weird bastards here to support ME, ME, MY case, and they come out and support her?! Get out of my witness stand!!”
The Creeps were already slinking out, Tempest tossing a wink at Sloane and a grin at Seb as they departed.
“YOUR witness stand?! Does Old Bob need to come down there and teach you a lesson about whose witness stand that is?!”
Johnny stammered again.
“I-I’d just like to point out that while the Creeps commented favorably on Ms. Taylor, that in and of itself is damning!” Johnny crowed, looking toward the jury who seemed to consider his words with nods.
Sloane groaned.
“Tell me you’ve got something good saved up,” she said to Seb, realizing she was getting into this.
“His case is about to be dust,” Seb said emphatically before rising.
“Your honor, I have one more character witness to call, and it’s the defendant’s own father—“
“What?” Sloane said, her breath leaving her in a whoosh, her hands gripping the arms of her chair. “Seb that’s not funny..”
“— Richard Taylor!” Seb finished, reaching down to squeeze her shoulder.
Just then, the doors swung inward and a white light appeared in the entryway. From within that light stepped a figure, Sloane turning in her seat to see a man frozen by time, never to age beyond the young adult he’d been when he’d… died.
Reality slammed into her. There was no way, it was him, not an actor or a lookalike, him. Seb would never do this to her, not for ratings, not for anything, which could only mean that she was dead… this was a real trial… and the man coming closer and closer was her father.
Sloane’s head swam dizzily, tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks though whether it was for herself or her father, she wasn’t entirely sure. Perhaps both. There were so many things she wanted to say, so many questions she wanted to ask, and yet all of it came out in one word.
“Dad?” She reached for him, the tears coming faster… but he didn’t even look her way, made no move to reach back or even acknowledge her. She wanted to get up, to run to him, hug him and cry, to just tell him everything he’d missed, everything she was doing.
Was. She was dead now. How?
“Are you okay? Sloane?”
Sloane shook herself, forcing herself into the present as she stared at Seb. Unable to actually get the words out, she nodded. He quickly squeezed her hand and then approached the bench. Sloane realized she must have missed the swearing in, she was so deep in her thoughts.
“Mr. Taylor. I suppose you know why we’re here today.” Seb said.
“I do,” Richard Taylor’s voice was smooth and of a rich timbre, and just hearing again it made Sloane ache.
Dad. Here. Now. And… I think he’s gonna be proud of me, she thought.
“A trial to weigh whether Sloane Taylor, your daughter, should be sent to Hell following her untimely death,” Seb said, walking by slowly with his hands in his pockets before aiming one dramatically in her direction.
Sloane started to roll her eyes but stopped when she realized her father was finally looking at her. She smiled at him, her vulnerability like a beacon as she regarded him with tear-stained cheeks.
“Are you asking me if she should?” Richard Taylor clarified.
Seb frowned, clearing his throat.
“Not exactly, you’re more supposed to talk about what kind of person she is,” Seb said.
“Of course, of course,” Mr. Taylor scratched his stubbled chin. “Well, I suppose I should qualify all this by saying I’ve just sort of been looking over Sloane, her brother, and their mother from above, so it’s just based on what I see,” he said to the jury. “And what I see— I can’t say I’m proud of how my daughter turned out.”
It was like a knife to the chest. Sloane froze, staring at the witness stand in growing horror.
“Sure she’s determined and focused sometimes, but not when it matters. Not like it would have mattered. And you know, that just makes her mother’s many sacrifices even worse. My wife worked her fingers to the bone, sometimes three jobs at a time just to be able to have even the consideration of giving Sloane that single-minded dream of hers. And all because we watched some wrestling when her and Kit were little. If we’d watched Jeopardy, would she actually be intelligent?” Richard Taylor shook his head bitterly, the courtroom deathly silent. He looked right at his daughter. “You know, if you’d truly given yourself over to it, truly put everything you had into the sport? I wouldn’t think your mother’s sacrifices were such a shame. But she did all that only to watch you give up and fail when it counts, to whine when it doesn’t go your way, to see something she worked to give you squandered time and time again. Honestly, Sloane, I wish I’d never taken you to that first live show; I wish I’d never made it a thing with you and your brother. You’re selfish and you put your hope and dreams far ahead of anyone else’s. Do I think you should go to Hell? I don’t know. But you shouldn’t be in Heaven either. I don’t want to see what you’ve become.”
The world around her became a low hum as her father’s words repeated over and over in her head. How many times had she longed for him to see where she was now? How many times had she wondered if he’d be proud of her hard work? How many times… And then he was gone. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed him leave, hadn’t heard Johnny’s remarks though he was no doubt crowing that Seb’s character witness had ended up being for him.
And Hide was so much closer now.
Executioner.
The Devil.
Was that what had happened? Had it been her match, something gone wrong and this was her mind’s way of processing it? Was it something else?
Executioner.
The Devil.
Seb was floundering, and it was clear he hadn’t expected Richard Taylor’s testimony to go as it had. Sloane felt herself rise.
Executioner.
The Devil.
“I’d like to testify for myself,” she said forcefully. Not asking, demanding.
“Get on with it,” Judge Ooley growled, glowering when she moved out from behind the table, skirting away from Hide. Sloane approached Bailiff Orson, placing her hand on the Bible and mumbling the words as she was sworn in.
It was different looking out at the courtroom from this view, and she found it intimidating, all eyes on her. Though she’d been the subject of this entire thing, she had never felt so watched.
“So, I know from where you’re sitting, this looks pretty bad. My own hedgie feels like I’m making fun of him all the time, the guy who was supposed to be here to give evidence against me thought he was giving evidence for me, but was actually giving evidence against me… And my dad…” She paused, trying to maintain her composure. “Anyway… What I’m trying to say is that there’s more to me, so much more to me than just the things that you’ve heard here today.”
Sloane did everything she could to avoid Hide’s gaze. As he watched her from afar, she could feel it burning against her skin.
“This one moment is defining for me, this moment, right here, right now. And I know, it’s about more than that, I know it’s about everything I’ve done and everything I will do, I understand it’s about every single decision I’ve ever made and ever will make. Because we’re all made of the choices in our lives. I’m the product of the stories of my past; who I am now, is made from layer upon layer of my history, like the layers of a tree. Or an onion, maybe,” she said with a small smile and a shrug. .
“You got a point here, Bone?” Asked Judge Ooley.
“Of course. Well I think I do, anyway. I guess you guys will be the judges of that,” Sloane said, looking over at the jury.
“I’ve never claimed to be perfect. I’ve made bad choices. Quite a few of them, in fact, but who hasn’t? Sure, I call Quill ‘Darth Prickles’, but I do it out of a place of love. Others would have given him up or been mean to him, but I never even considered it. I love him, even when he’s cranky, and I stuck by him because I’m loyal. And sure, Tempest and Co painted a picture of me as dangerous and violent, but when you do what we do, is that really a bad thing? I’ve had to fight every day to get where I am in the face of people laughing at me, calling me names, and constantly underestimating me, telling me I couldn’t make it. And you know what? Everything they told me I couldn’t do? I’ve done it. And then I did the next thing and the next and the next,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice.
“And as for my dad? Well, if he’s not proud of me…” she paused, her voice that has been strong only moments ago filled with her pain. “That hurts. And for a minute when I heard that, I thought it would make a difference, make me change my mind, but I’ve realized it doesn’t. I don’t need him to be proud of me. I spent my entire life trying to live up to what I thought he wanted me to be and ignored the fact that I’m surrounded by people who are all super proud of me. My mom. Kit. My best friend.” She glanced down at Seb who smiled and nodded. “And myself. Because I’m proud of myself and what I’ve accomplished. Truth is, I’m not sure I ever really believed I would do the things I’ve done. Even when I fought against what others said I couldn’t do, I fought against myself as well. And anyone who’s had that fight knows it’s the hardest of them all.”
Sloane glanced over at Hide who had stopped moving towards her, was standing, watching her, his chains rattling gently.
“I'm not afraid anymore. Not of the executioner… Not of the Devil. And why should I be? Because of pain? Because it's hard? I've been hurt. I've walked the hard path, and I'm ready to go further than I ever have. I'm ready to go harder than I've ever needed to go. I don’t know what happened to me. I don’t know if I made it to our match or if this was a result of our match or if this is to decide what happens to me when I eventually die. But I want you to know, Hide… All of you. If I've not stepped into that ring yet? It's you who should be afraid. Because I'm ready, more ready than I've ever been. I’m going to give it my all, and you’ll get every bit of the Sky Queen and the Final Girl I can give you. Because they’re both in me, both a part of me just as much as the Bubblegum Princess,” she said with a smile.
“That doesn't make me evil, or worthy of a place in Hell. It makes me worthy of a place in history. Come what may? I'll make sure you all remember me, but it won't be because the Devil dragged me to his depths.” She said as she watched Hide give her a slow nod. “It will be because I'm worth remembering.”
“Are you done yet? Christ you’re making Old Bob’s head hurt,” Judge Ooley complained. “You two better speak now or forever hold your peace!”
“We’re not up here to get HITCHED, this is something IMPORTANT,” Johnny said emphatically. “And… ahem… The Johnny rests,” he grumbled.
“I’m good, too,” Seb said, smiling as his client joined him.
“About time. Now you guys on the jury… do your jury bullshit, Old Bob doesn’t give a fuck what that is, just get it done—“ as he spoke, the jury members seemed to converge on one another, clearly discussing what they’d just seen and heard… and their conversation lasted approximately three seconds.
Centurion got to his feet.
“Yeah, we’ve already come to a verdict,” he said, passing a piece of paper to Bailiff Orson who opened it, read it, and… said nothing.
“You heard the man, Bone Layer, get your ass up and learn your fate so Old Bob can go home and polish Louis!”
Sloane got up, but instead of standing in place, she moved up beside Hide, facing the verdict head-on.
Had she imagined a smile on the face of her executioner, the devil?
“The verdict is—“ Holden Orson began.
…
“Seb? Are you even listening to me?” Sloane asked, leaning over the table to snap her fingers in his face.
“Hmm? Oh yes, of course, what did they say? What was the verdict?” He asked, straightening on his stool, eyes bleary. The apartment was mostly dark with a lamp on as well as the ligh over the stove. Sloane had turned them both on when he kept falling asleep during her telling of her dream.
“I’m not telling,” Sloane said, crossing her arms, unsatisfied with his response.
“What? What the fuck, Sloane? It’s 3 AM, at least tell me how your dream ended! Sloane!!” Seb shouted, but it was no use.
“You want to find out how it ended? Watch my match Monday,” Sloane said with a mischievous grin, and then she picked up Lord Quilliam before flouncing back to her room.
“Damn night brain,” Seb grumbled, but with a look on his face that said he'd do precisely what Sloane had suggested.
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