Episode 4: Prologue

  --- Booker H. Freeman ---

  “You finished?” Lydia asked when he made his way out of the one of the local contracting consortiums, the industry at least mildly present in all districts of Invidia and Avarus.

  “For now.” He nodded, having spent the day burning through roughly a year of work with his sole contract if he wasn’t mistaken.

  (Sloth: That sounds like so much work when you put it like that…)

  (Greed: At least we were paid for it.)

  (Lust: And we got to help Bugsby!)

  (Envy: If you call putting him in the same position as us helping him…)

  He felt his ever present smile twitch at the reminder of his most recent batch of memories.

  (Pride: Well, look at us! At how far we’ve come. Why that boy will be lucky to be half as successful and adaptive as we are when he’s grown!)

  (Envy: Barring the cannibalism, insanity, and complete lack of anything our own?)

  (Gluttony: You make cannibalism sound bad. Plenty of species indulge.)

  (Pride: Also if we’re being pedantic it only counts as cannibalism if we were to eat another Demon like us.)

  (Wrath: We’ve some honor, I’d like to believe.)

  (Envy: Self-delusions as well.)

  “You alright, Booker?” A new voice asked, snapping him out of his thoughts and drawing his attention to the scruffy man who’d been following him like a lost puppy for the past day.

  “He gets like that sometimes.” He heard Lydia whisper to Tucker.

  “Just lost in my thoughts.” He assured them, before gesturing for them to follow. “So much to do and we’ve so much time to do all of it.”

  “Uh, weren’t those Grand Assassin Games soon?” Lydia reminded him. “If you want to do those still you’re going to have to sign up for them before they begin in a couple weeks.”

  “True, but not an immediately pressing concern.” He reminded her in turn. “Especially given how we’ve still the consequences of our recent work to wrap up.”

  “Right… I, um, a lot of the Inferni from before they uh, they’re still… uncomfortable around us.” Lydia frowned, pointedly not looking towards Tucker, more out of concern than disapproval.

  “If you knew half the shit those fuckers were doing…” The former pit fighter shook his head. “I don’t blame them for hating me, deserve it all things considered.”

  “You were as much a slave as the rest of them.” Lydia tried to argue, not seeing that (Envy: He’s not just talking about what he did in the pit.)

  “Maybe.” Tucker scoffed in clear disagreement. “Either way though those fuckers deserve every moment of agony it’s going to take them to dig their way out of the rubble. And even if I’m not really with them, the Inferni probably think I deserve the same.”

  “Is that how that works? Dying under the rubble I mean.” The youngest of their trio clarified. “Back in Ira Invidia when someone, uh, died they usually stayed so for a day… and even if they woke up in a body pile there was nothing, uh, stopping them from getting up.”

  “Burial is probably one of the worst ways to die down here.” Tucker grimaced, the look of someone who had experienced the subject. “Even burning is more merciful in some ways. Every time you come back you end up immediately suffocating again, your body moving a little closer with each resurrection as your body digs its way out…. Deeper you’re buried longer it lasts… Few feet, a few months. Deep as we buried them they’ll be out for a good few years.”

  “Oh…” Lydia paled, eyes gaining a distant look as she realized the full depths of what she’d helped unleashed upon those poor sinners.

  “Don’t forget what they did to deserve such a fate.” He told her before she could wallow too deeply into her guilt, a hand ruffling the girl’s blonde hair to draw her from such morbid thoughts.

  (Wrath: We do grim work, but honorable work all the same.)

  (Sloth: Beside’s cinderblock and water is worse, strong enough rope and they’ll drown for years longer than putting someone six feet under.)

  (Envy: You can do all sorts of things with enough justification.)

  (Gluttony: We’re all monsters after all.)

  “Still… Kid’s got a point, doubt the Inferni will do much on the healing front as long as I’m around them.” Tucker confessed after a moment.

  “That’s… that’s not what I meant.” Lydia frowned (hideously.)

  “Maybe not, but it’s the truth of the matter.” Tucker sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before turning his attention back to Booker. “Any idea what you’re going to be doing next, fratello? I know it’s been ages, but I doubt you’ve never been the kind to stick around helping with the aftermath of your little… rampages.”

  (Sloth: Oh, I’d love to stick around. Just laze about a bit as we kill some time.)

  (Lust: Especially if it means making new friends!)

  (Envy: They’re safer without us dragging them down.)

  (Wrath: They’re also not the only ones suffering in the world.)

  (Gluttony: Plenty of prey to hunt.)

  (Pride: Secrets to discover.)

  (Greed: And profit to be made.)

  “Yes… I don’t think I’ll be sticking around for too long.” He admitted, some ache inside of him -one separate from the voices of his fractured psyche- telling him that he needed to keep moving, that there was still more to do. “Not too sure what I’ll be doing next though.”

  “Well… Maybe we should check in with your gang?” Lydia suggested, somewhere between bashful and reluctant.

  (Sloth: Oh, right we were in charge of one of those weren't we?)

  (Pride: The fact that you can’t recall does not bode well for us.)

  “Uh, which gang?” Tucker asked, his face scrunching up.

  “The Rabid Red-Eyed Rabbits.” Lydia answered for him. “Have you heard about them?”

  “A little?” Tucker crossed his arms, before eventually shaking his head. “But honestly that’s not too surprising if Booker was in charge of them.”

  (Pride: Is that a jab at us?)

  (Lust: No. The spotlight loves us and he knows it.)

  “What do you mean?” Lydia frowned in (grotesque) confusion.

  “Er, the Clean Slate Curse?” Tucker said as if that alone explained everything.

  Lydia simply blinked. “The what?”

  Tucker gave Booker a curious look, to which he felt the need to explain that, “Lydia is still… new to all of this.” with a gesture to the world around them.

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  “Right, right. Okay… And you’re young so… yeah.” Tucker nodded, as if everything was slowly making sense before he told them both. “Alright, so the Clean Slate Curse is… It’s meant to be a mercy of sorts if rumor is true, but like everything else down here got twisted into something kind of fucked.”

  “The way it works is that the world applies a certain magical pressure thing, that prevents people from reuniting with the people you knew in life. The idea being that you’re avoiding the people who led you to hell in life. There are a few ways around it with bloodline connections and shit because apparently the devil doesn’t know what an asshole parent is, but the long and short of it is that any friends you had in life? You ain’t meeting them in hell.”

  “Oh…” Lydia gained a very conflicted look, a twisted mix of disappointment and rage that marred her face in a rather (hideous) scowl. “Of course that’s how it works…”

  “Yeah…” The Bear sinner nodded in commiseration before turning violet eyes onto Booker. “Though Booker here has apparently found some kind of loophole to it if he managed to track me down after so long.”

  “Well, truth be told that was partially a lucky break on my part.” In large part because he hadn’t known of Tucker’s existence prior to meeting the man.

  “Maybe but luck won’t get you around the Curse. I know everyone has tried.” Tucker let out a huff. “Makes sense only a bastard as insane as you could pull it off.”

  “Erm, quite right!” He chuckled, his smile feeling unnaturally tense as he considered the matter.

  (Pride: So whatever was done to us shattered the curse on us?)

  (Envy: Could be a sympathetic connection? We don’t remember them so the curse doesn’t separate us.)

  (Sloth: A cracked soul has a lot of side effects both good and bad. It’s russian roulette on what all you get.)

  “Wonder if this means I can see Emily again, I owe her an apology for you know… dying on you two.” Tucker grimaced in a way that made Booker wince.

  “Ah, that… might be difficult…” He confessed, hand gripping the stopwatch in his pocket. “We’ve been… separated for the time being.”

  Tucker’s eyes immediately narrowed. “Seperated how? Not even the devil himself could keep the two of you apart.”

  “Well you see…” He began contemplating the best excuse for the moment before a thought occurred to him.

  (Lust: Why are we bothering to lie?)

  (Greed: To maintain a position of power within these negotiations.)

  (Sloth: To show weakness is asking for someone to take your throne.)

  (Gluttony: The weakest of the pack is the first to die.)

  (Lust: Maybe all of that’s true but… Tucker is our friend and so is Lydia!)

  (Sloth: They’re our minions not our friends.)

  (Lust: Same thing!)

  (Sloth: No, there’s a hierarchy.)

  (Pride: One that we must remain on top of.)

  (Lust: But -hear me out- Tucker knows who we are, before we lost our memories. And he’s our friend, he can help us figure out what’s going on with us!)

  (Pride: I suppose we can trade a bit of momentary standing to reclaim the secrets of our greatness.)

  (Greed: And everything else that belongs to us.)

  (Envy: That… could work. I mean he knows what kind of monster we are and hasn’t run yet.)

  (Wrath: Loyalty begets loyalty.)

  (Sloth: Ugh, I hate that that makes sense…)

  (Lust: It also means less work for us!)

  (Sloth: Fine…)

  (Lust: So power of friendship?)

  (Envy: We are not calling this that… but yes.)

  (Lust: Yay!!!)

  “He really does do this a lot doesn’t he?” Tucker asked Lydia with no small amount of concern. “That’s different… You seeing his eyes flash different colors?”

  Not quite knowing what they were talking about but seeing it as a valid segway he let out a sigh. “That, actually is a good opening for a matter that does in fact concern all three of us.”

  “Uh, what concern?” Tucker blinked as they began down the steps to the underground railroads that made up the markets.

  “Lydia, do you recall how you found me in that alley last week?” He checked.

  “Uh, yeah… You’d had a run in with the Smiling Man leaving you a smiler, but you resisted the worst of it… Though that might’ve been the bullet in your head.” Lydia remembered.

  “The fuck is a smiler?” Tucker frowned (disgustingly.)

  “A smiler is a person who- the Smiling Man basically ate their souls and cursed them to be mindless smiling things. Honestly, I think burying them alive may’ve been more merciful than whatever lobotomy bullshit those things were.” Lydia shivered before turning a concerned look Booker’s way. “I was kind of wondering if that would fade since we killed him but… you haven’t stopped smiling…”

  “Yeah… That probably doesn’t have anything to do with this… Smiling Man. Booker has always been like this…” Tucker argued with a gesture towards the rabbit Demon’s everything. “Honestly the few times I’ve seen him without a smile are far scarier than what I’ve seen him do with one.”

  (Envy: Then he hasn’t seen everything we’ve done…)

  “Correct, given what few memories have returned… I don’t believe your Smiling Man is responsible for my current condition.” He confirmed, mind briefly drifting towards a black rabbit with rabid red eyes.

  “Wait, the few memories that have returned?” Tucker repeated.

  “Yes, the one symptom she forgot. I’m missing a number of my memories… Truthfully, more than I implied when I met young Lydia.” He sighed, smile twisting into a grimace as he revealed the hole still in his head. “All thanks to this little injury that refuses to heal.”

  “That’s… You’ve had that for a week?” Tucker asked, leaning in to examine the injury.

  “Yes, I have.” He confirmed. “And unlike the arm I regrew, this isn’t healing.”

  “So when you said you were missing your recent memories?” Lydia trailed off.

  “I have next to no memories of anything involving this world we’ve found ourselves in.” He shrugged in what can you do manner. “And the few bits and pieces I have managed to recall… Tell me nothing. I know I was the boss of the rabbits but I don’t know what district they’re based out of. In fact truth be told I don’t know the name of any district we haven’t been to yet…” (Pride: Ahem.) “Though I have noticed the sinful latin naming conventions.”

  “So for all intent, you’re basically a freshly fallen.” Lydia blinked, staring at him with something between distaste and awe.

  (Sloth: That tends to happen when someone realizes the con.)

  (Pride: Especially when one is still worthy of the awe and respect they’ve thus far earned.)

  “Wait… How many memories are you missing?” Tucker interrupted an uncomfortable look on his face. “Like do you remember me?”

  He swallowed before confessing that. “I… don’t even know what Emilia looks like now…”

  Tucker stumbled back as if struck. “That’s… shit…”

  “It is…” He agreed, before considering things his hands reaching out to grasp something. “My memories are slowly returning but… they seem half tied to the things I do? The lessons that I learned in life? I… remember my mother teaching me magic… My grandfather teaching me to hunt… Learning with Emilia in the Library… My first performance on a stage… Why I had to do what I’ve done… But in between all of that is… a blur. Years, decades, missing.”

  His hands held little more than air by the time he was through voicing thoughts he’d been avoiding dwelling on.

  All three of them were silent for a moment, their trip into the market coming to a short stop as they all considered the revelation he’d just given.

  Even the voices in his head were quiet, as if doing the same despite being little more than thoughts themselves.

  “Shit.” Tucker cursed once more hand running down his hands, before continuing to curse a few more times. “Shit fucking… Figlio di puttana!”

  This continued for another minute before Tucker eventually nodded to himself. “Alright… Fuck. This isn’t great but… It’s not like this is your fault. And you’ve had my back through a lot worse than amnesia. Even if you don’t remember it…” The bear sinner’s face twisted in pain for a moment before he shook it clear. “No, that doesn’t matter. The Curse is broken, and… I’m not abandoning you after waiting a hundred years, fratello. Especially when you don’t know shit about this hell hole you’re stuck in.”

  (Lust: See I told you this would all work out!)

  (Sloth: He was the easy one…)

  His eyes drifted towards Lydia, the young girl who had been following him into danger and mystery time and again because she thought he actually knew what he was doing. Only to now discover that he’d been faking it the entire time they’d been together, purposely misleading her and using her for his own goals. (Even if I have no greater goals.)

  Regardless he could tell that she was less than happy with this revelation by the (horrific) scowl that marred her face as she began to paw at her face. “I… I’m not sure how to feel about this.”

  He tilted his head watching his young companion begin to pace in place.

  “On the one hand, you lied to me about being some bigshot badass, and dragged me into a whole bunch of stuff that could’ve been worse than death. On the other hand you backed it up and got me out of Ira Invidia and taught me magic and everything else you’ve managed to do all while… while making it up as you go!” Lydia ranted as she vented out her thoughts, before lightly tugging at her hair. “Shit, fucking… What am I supposed to do with this?”

  He considered that for a moment before opening his mouth- (Lust: Don’t, she just needs to work out her feelings.) -and promptly closing it.

  Both he and Tucker watched the young girl for a moment as she took a deep breath before letting it out. “Fuck it. This… this doesn’t change - No it changes a lot but- You, you’ve still been holding up your end of the deal. You may have no idea what you’re doing but… You’re a lot better at this than I am, and even with no memories you’ve still helped me.”

  He let out a relieved sigh and gave them both a grateful smile, “I’m gla-”

  “But if there is anything else like this and you keep it secret then I’ll… I’ll go and make it up on my own instead! Maybe, maybe go with V and help with the Inferni.” Lydia grumbled as she stomped past him.

  Booker slapped on his most charming smile and following after. “Don’t you worry my dear, I am not the kind of person to hide who I am from friend or foe!”

  He felt the fact that they were passing the men he’d publicly crucified only underlined that point.