Work Text:
…What?
Footsteps…?
!!
A new [Customer???]
DON’T MIND IF I DO…
You shove open the metal lid above your head. The artificial yellow light of the alley, dim as it is, is momentarily blinding. The customer — >lightNer??? — is frozen in a defensive stance, one blue hand on the sword on their back. Well, you’ve dealt with difficult customers before.
You lean out. Better recite the spiel before they run away like the others. Their hand doesn’t move from their sword, but neither do they move from their position. Good. Great! And if they do attack, that means you’ve got their attention! [Heaven] knows you can bargain at gunpoint.
“HEY, EVERY—!” Your voice — that is your voice, right? It’s not… theirs…? — catches like always and disappears. Don’t break the smile. Don’t break the deal. Everything is fine. Introduction: “IT’S ME, EVERYONE’S FAVORITE [[Number 1 Rated Salesman1997,]] SPAMT—”
Goddamn! Come on!!!
“SPAMTON G. SPAMTON!” There it is! That should catch their attention. Everyone knows your name—!
No one knows your name. You’re a total [No Body].
Well, they wouldn’t know you anyway. They’re not from around here. They wouldn’t know who you are. Or who you used to be.
Shut up!!! Your smile is as fixed as ever, but your teeth are clenched so tight your jaw creaks. You turn to your customer and lean closer to them, really looking at them for the first time. “WOAH! IF IT ISN’T A…”
You clamber out of the box and over to them. They sure look like a— “LIGHTNER! HEY-HEY HEY!!!” It’s hard to tell, but you think they’re young. No more than a kid, really. Though they’re still twice your goddamn height. Their eyes — do Lightners have eyes?? It’s hard to remember — are obscured by heavy bangs, but what little you can see of their face is completely devoid of emotion, except maybe a tension in their jaw to match yours as they nod. They’re dressed like a [Knight]—
No. Your mind skips like a scratched CD. They’re dressed in sparse silver armor over a black bodysuit, only a pink cape at their shoulder for decoration. Perhaps their most striking feature is that they’re completely blue — their skin cerulean and hair so dark blue it’s almost black as yours. Is that normal for Lighters???
“LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE [[all alone on a late night?]]” you say, looking down your nose at them. You give them what you mean to be a sympathetic look, but you aren’t sure how it comes across. “ALL YOUR FRIENDS, [[abandoned you for the slime]] YOU ARE?” Though you mean to address the Lightner, your words strike a chord in you. They’re shaking their head. They look almost unnerved though. Maybe… maybe they’re like you… Abandoned… ruined… all their sales gone down the [drain] [drain?] LIVING IN A GODDAMN GARBAGE CAN?!
You realize you’re saying that last part out loud. You laugh. You can’t stop laughing. It’s so funny.
FUCK!
The loud slam wakes you up. There’s a new dent in the metal dumpster, with your fist in the center. Wrong. You’re ruining the deal.
Breathe. Smile. Pull your hand out of that dent. Unclench your fist. Adjust your glasses — they’re crooked. Back to the customer. Figure out what they want and sell it to them. Don’t lose them. Don’t lose this.
You turn to them. Their blue face is so unreadable — Demographic: [ ]? — how can you know what they want? But wait — their hands are raised, as if to defend themself. There’s the slightest change in expression, and you latch into it — they’re unnerved. Scared.
Demographic: [Desperate]
Demographic: [Alone]
Demographic: [You.] The customer is you.
What do you want…?
“WELL, HAVE I GOT A [[special deal]] FOR LONELY [[hearts]] LIKE YOU! IF YOU’VE [[lost control of your life—]]” You have, you have— “THEN YOU’VE JUST GOTTA GRAB IT BY THE [[silly strings.]]” And that’s what you’re doing right now, aren’t you? You’re taking your [Last Chances] when they come. This is your chance. They are your chance. You can see it in their face, they’re so desperate for it!
“WHY BE THE [[little sponge]] WHO HATES ITS [[$4.99]] LIFE —” Here it is, you know this pitch, you’ve said this thousands of times— “WHEN YOU CAN BE A [[big shot,]] [[big shot,]] [[BIG SHOT?!]]”
You’re shouting, but you can’t help it. For a moment, you could be recording a commercial back in your shop, face shoved so close to the camera your nose taps the lens, Mike holding back laughter—
No. Stop it. Forget that.
The Lightner kid is shrinking away from you. They look scared— They’re not scared of you; they want your deal. They want it more than anything.
The Lightner kid is shrinking away from you. They look [interested!] “Uh, sure,” they say quietly. You’re making progress!
“THAT’S RIGHT! NOW’S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A [[big shot!]]” you say, confidence flooding you as the kid tilts their head curiously. This is it… You’re barely inches from them, head tipped back to meet their gaze, but you need to be closer. You grab their arm. They try to wrench it out of your grip. You don’t budge. You just smile. “AND I HAVE JUST. THE THING. YOU NEED. THAT’S…”
You glance around the alleyway. The two of you are alone. Obviously. But still, you stand on your toes, hand cupped around your mouth, to whisper in their ear: “[[Hyperlink blocked]]”
You rock back on your heels, letting go of their arm. You’re racked with laughter so hard that you’re already desperate for air. The Lightner kid looks confused, but they rearrange their features into polite interest. “I guess.” Good. Back on track.
“YOU WANT IT. YOU WANT [[Hyperlink blocked,]] DON’T YOU?” Of course they do, they just said it. “WELL, HAVE I GOT A DEAL FOR YOU! ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SHOW ME… YOUR [[HeartShapedObject.]]”
The kid takes a step back, but their mouth tightens with resolve. A blue hand reaches for their sword. They think you’re threatening them? Poor kid. No one’s ever taught them the art of the [Deal?!]
“YOU’RE LIGHTNER, AREN’T YOU?” you ask. “YOU’VE GOT THE [[light.]]” You can see it blazing red through their armor. Bright, bright red. Bright as neon signs.
“WHY DON’T YOU [[show it off?]]”