Post-It: ETD 00:05am

[maced_eggs]

Right. Gather around, kids. Uncle Mason is here to teach you about what you need to know to survive in your crazy little worlds once you redeem yourselves and go on to live full, productive lives.

First, you need money to survive. So you can either steal, or you can get a job. Job is safer, but it's more work, so if you're going to do the job route you want somewhere where you can slack off as much as humanly possible. Night security, retail, stocking, anythin' like that. Bonus if you're stocking because it means you can lift things on the side. But if you're going the stealing route, leave the credit cards. Cash is king. And hocking stolen merchandise can be a pain in the ass: don't steal things you yourself can't use.

Next, you're gonna need a place to live, right? So what you do is you pick up your newspaper and flip to the local obituary section. Look for older men who live alone, preferably with their kids living out of state. Then go to their houses an' break in. You've got yourself a place! An' sometimes the kids forget to write the social security office so you get free checks too.

Which leaves showering. Don't fuckin' throw your money away on washing clothes. Wear your nastiest, rattiest outfit and go down to the Salvation Army. Pick out clothes you like, switch them out for the ones you're wearing and walk out the door. None the wiser.

Next lessons, we will cover meals, dating, and fighting blokes twice your size. Have I fucking graduated yet? Yes? Fucking hell.

Comments

[routemistress]

You are the type, Mason; it takes one to know one.

Aye; you can 'ave one this afternoon if you don't mind it being scorpion-shaped. If you want it personalised it might take longer.

[maced_eggs]

Yes, but maybe not from you. Possibly. How many nice things do you own?

Why's it in the shape of a scorpion?

[routemistress]

Everything I own's nice and I want to keep it, sunshine.

They're like it 'cause when I first designed 'em I was working with Rex Lewis, and 'e wanted 'em to look mean. So the default ones are all things like snakes and scorpions. Our Rex were a big snake fan.

[maced_eggs]

But I want nice things too.

I'm not much of a snake person. Actually, I'm not sure what sort of animal person I am. Do people think about that often?

[routemistress]

Then get your own. Admiral request. Doing chores for people. Gifts - and I mean gifts people give you on purpose, Mason.

We 'ad a breach once where everyone's soul took the shape of an animal that went around with 'em. I made at least one of the Lassiebots based on those. It doesn't 'ave to be significant, mind. Just summat you like the look of.

[maced_eggs]

I'm not talking to the Admiral at the moment. Did you know, I asked for a bit of weed and he gave me catnip? I only found that out afterwards.

I've no idea what animal I am.

[routemistress]

Why would you go asking the Admiral for weed, you pillock? You should've asked me.

That's contingent on Gwen's okay and you being showered and clean too, mind.

[maced_eggs]

Oh. ...Can I have some weed then, Iris?

I am quite clean at the moment. I promise.

[routemistress]

If Gwen doesn't shoot me down you can, aye. I'm not undermining another warden, even a temporary one.

[maced_eggs]

I believe I can be trusted with one tiny bit of it. What do you think's going to happen, even? There's not much you can do with more'n a dime bag, Iris love.

[routemistress]

It's not about trusting you. I trust you - more or less. It's about me not disrespecting Gwen.

[maced_eggs]

Gwenny doesn't smoke?

[routemistress]

And nor do you without 'er sayso. Not while she's in charge.

[maced_eggs]

Are you aware of how depressing it is to be asking permission to smoke one little blunt from a girl a third my age?

Because it is. It's bloody emasculating.

[routemistress]

Are you aware you're technically in prison, darling?

Because you are. It's lucky weed's even an option without you 'aving to 'ave someone outside shove it up where the sun don't shine for you.

[maced_eggs]

I have done that, you know. Multiple times. Once you get past the initial discomfort it's not so terrible, really.

[routemistress]

Oh aye, I know. The tricky bit's passing it across without getting spotted - mind you, I 'ave some natural advantages in that department.

Unless the guards are robots. Then you need to try and reprogramme the buggers on the fly. That's the real pain in the arse.

cw; idiocy, drug smuggling.

[maced_eggs]

Dogs. Dogs are worse than robots.

I'm assuming. I've never actually met a robot before.

Here, this might be a personal question, but do girls...? I mean, can they smuggle more up their...?

I've always wondered.

cw; idiocy, drug smuggling.

[routemistress]

Oh, dogs are no problem for me. I just ask 'em nicely not to tell. That's actually what I meant by natural advantages, Mason my love.

...but aye, the other thing also applies.

You've met David, 'aven't you? Our Mira's warden?

[maced_eggs]

How they let you get away with that? You're only naturally good at dogs? That's a bloody convenient power.

No, can't say that I have.

[routemistress]

Dogs, security guards, anyone like that. I just sort of gently remind 'em they didn't see me. It's very useful at times. Doesn't work on everyone; that's when you 'ave to get creative.

Well, 'e's a robot. Advanced enough to be a person. Bit of a git, actually, but that's nowt to do with being a robot, that's just David.

[maced_eggs]

Does it work on parking meter maids? Because I've a feeling Roxy would not appreciate your trickery, Iris.

Will he check my bum for illegals? I don't think I'd like to meet him if he does.

[routemistress]

Depends what species they are. But my bus 'as a cloaking device, she's never been ticketed yet.

Well. Except in Gotham that time, but Gotham's special.

I think I can feel pretty safe in saying David's not going to be remotely interested in your bum in any capacity whatever, Mason.

[maced_eggs]

Roxy's a reaper, same as me. An' she gives out parking tickets like candy.

Or did. I think she's a cop now. Isshard to tell sometimes, remembering.

That's a relief. I've enough troubles without worrying about overly friendly robots interested in my lower regions.

[routemistress]

...So she's dead, but she still gives out parking tickets? Does anyone pay them?

Nah. David 'as a lot of sterling qualities, but friendliness isn't one of 'em. Or interest in anyone's lower regions, come to that.