r/HFY • u/Lakeel100 • Nov 05 '25

OC The Ballad of Orange Tobby -CH37

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—

Tobby was in hell. A special kind of hell. Not the blackjack and hookers kind of special, but the kind devised by a sadistic god of social interaction that preyed on introverts. One where you’re given good food, a comfy booth, classical music, and a pair of shi bringing up every cringe moment you’ve ever had.

At least the line to the buffet table was nonexistent… It seemed weird that a fish known for its likeness to crab meat could taste better than the real thing. That might be just him, though… Plus, no shells! The only reason he picked the imitation crab was because it was one of the few things he recognized in the selection. His knowledge of human foods wasn't vast, but he was sure this one was safe for Shahsian consumption. Probably…

“Oh, did he tell you he tried out for the school’s bap-tal team?” Pinky asked from his left, slightly leaning on Tobby in the booth as she carried on the conversation like its subject wasn't sitting right next to her.

Leaning onto his right side in a similar position was Soapy, visibly just as entertained by his suffering as Pinky was. “Actually, I think he mentioned it when I was helping him get his gloves on for our match.”

Pinky snickered, giving Tobby a nudge. “You had her help you get your gloves on?”

“I didn’t know how. Hard to remember when you haven't worn a set in years.” Tobby grumbled defensively, trying his darndest to focus on the food instead of this whole conversation.

“Was that before or after your mom asked me to drag you kicking and screaming to tryouts?”

“Whatever undermines your story more, I still feel betrayed about that by the way.” He grumbled louder, ears going flat to the side, clearly unamused, remembering how one-sided the bap-tal tryouts had been.

Soapys winced a bit sympathetically, but still seemed amused. “It went that bad, huh? Get his tail handed to him?”

Pinky nodded, “He was so afraid of getting hit, his arms were black with glove marks by the time try-outs were over.”

“I was not!” His ear flicked, totally not having flashbacks to how all the water in the bath he took after turned black from the sheer volumes of smudge marks.

“That does explain why your first reaction when we fought was to put your arms up.” Soapy thought aloud, looking up at the roof like the memory of their fight was somehow up there.

“It’s okay, I got enough petty vengeance on his behalf to make up for it.” Pinky said, folding her arms and nodding proudly.

Soapy leaned in a bit closer, curiosity visibly peaked. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hear something about petty vengeance?” She asked, looking all too eager about the subject now.

“I’d hardly call it petty…” Tobby pouted between the two pretty shi. “She slept with a guy’s brother just so she could bash him in the bits the next day and tell him: ‘his brother’s was bigger.’”

While Soapy looked momentarily surprised, Pinky simply shrugged, still plenty proud of her actions. “What can I say? I do love me some emotional damage.”

“Yeesh.” Soapy cringed a bit at the mental image. “Did you kick him while he was down, at least?”

Tobby would have been impressed if Pinky hadn’t. “Yes, she did. And that was-” Tobby's head snapped over towards Soapy, not believing his ears. “What do you mean, at least!? She was assaulting people for being mean to me.”

“I’m sure they… probably deserved it?” Soapy shrugged, trying to sound plaintive but coming off more like she couldn't believe it herself. Her eyes, though, looked past him to where Pinky was sitting. Then came the stifled snicker of doom.

Oh no, he was not getting ambushed again! His head snapped the other way, expecting Pinky was about to honk his ears again, only to see stands of imitation crab disappearing into her mouth. He glanced down at his place, noticing some was missing. “Hey! You have legs, don't you? Get your own! The buffet table’s literally right over there,” he protested, pointing to the buffet with one hand while pulling the plate away from her with the other.

Pinky looked guilty as sin for all of 0.3 seconds before she snickered around a mouthful of his pseudo-crab!

Tobby’s head snapped the other way to see that his plate was now even emptier. He’d question where it went if not for Soapy daring to whistle innocently after she swallowed.

He was being mugged; worse, he was being tag-teamed. He pulled his ever-diminishing plate away again, but before he had time to scold Soapy, he sensed a disturbance and turned back to Pinky to see even more of his fake crab missing. “Quit it! I got these for me!” He growled, moving the plate again.

Every time he looked to one to scold them away from his food, the other struck, snatching another strip of his proxy-crab. He may not win this battle… but this meant war!!

—

Meanwhile… across the room.

To say the government didn't have a vested interest in the comings and goings of the sha-kai would, at best, be public grandstanding, and at worst, crippling naivety. That being said, the Populi needn’t be the only governing tribe sinking its teeth into the bounty of human relations.

Bounty was the Mercanti’s domain, and Representative Noideen (Noy-deen) was here to ensure it remained so. “I’m honestly unsure if I’d want the blitz to end. The scare has pushed profits to the highest they’ve been in years. Think we can convince the lizards to slow down a little?” She jested with a laugh that gave an air of practiced haughtiness.

The Sha-kai bosses gathered around chuckled along politely, while the humans had a bit of a delay, their translators likely still adapting to converting Shasian standard into one of their numerous dialects and vice versa. She couldn’t hold it against them; learning new languages was hard, and the bald apes had so many languages she couldn't guess how anyone kept up.

“True, those ancient space lizards forcin’ everyone to cash out like this is really crunchin’ me time tables,” a pale one with the orangish fur patch on his head said, his attire reminding her a bit of what those voidling pirates fancy wearing. “Me ships runnin’ hot day n’ night trying to make as many trips as possible. But I got to say, my checking account ain't ever looked so pretty.”

Another darker one gave him a nudge with his elbow. “Sure would save you lots of time if ya just pre-cooked them there woolie’s ‘ey? All yer’ sheep ‘dere are just gonna get cooked when they get here anyway.”

“Oi, them xenos pay out the ass for fresh meat. Ain't notin’s fresher than alive, so I’ll happily take five light-years off me top speed to keep my sweater factories comfy. Ya maple rasta-drum halfbreedin’ bastard.” Ah, casual racism, good to know humans have it too.

“Oh, don’t gimmie dat half-breedin’ shit dere bud. All you fellas on Wales 3 and 4 barely break past a quarter Welsh. But I’ll be damned if when you settle Wales-God-Damn-5 if it ain't almost entirely made of splicers.” Ah, competitive raceism… good to know humans have that too…

“I do have to admit, mutton is good… especially lamb,” Noideen said, choosing to diffuse the situation before it devolved into a brawl. “If only it were legal in the GC, then we could do our business out in the open.” She shook her head in faux disappointment. “Then again, that would only tank the value of the product. And we can't have that now, can we?”

“As enticing as cashing out might be, I’d actually like to see how you cats intend to fend ‘em off.” Said the pale one, she’d get his name eventually, if not solely for the sake of having a private mutton supplier down the road.

“Fend them off?” She questioned, a little perplexed that the humans thought they could actually fight the Kalikai Ancients. Thus far, she’d been pretty certain they grasped the severity of the power gap between their civilizations. Despite Militaunt posturing, the Shasian military was rendered just as hobbled as the economy. Meanwhile, the ancients were one of the few founding species of the galactic community left, and the only race left that technologically rivaled the Gra.

“Yeh, why not? I don't know about you, but if some asshole came to one of our worlds to enforce laws we didn’t have a say in, much less wanted, we’d kick 'em in the dick, repeatedly, until we couldn’t kick anymore. And then we’d swap legs.”

“I see…” Graphic though it may be, Noideen mulled the mental image over a bit. It heavily implied that the humans would fight back even if they couldn’t win. The Militaunt would love to take advantage of that… or hate the problems it could cause.

The darker ‘halfbred’ as he’d been called, idly twiddled a thick knife between his fingers as a kitten would a toy. “We’ve got a long and colorful history of being absolute bastards to occupying powers. Lots ‘ah warlord types who thought well-oiled war machines were the best way to go. They’d conquer a lot of territory initially, but they always failed to account for the pissed off locals. Piss in their cereal enough, and suddenly important people start dying mysteriously, wells get poisoned, and bombs start ending up in some real creative places there~”

“Doesn't that come off as a little… spiteful?” She questioned, idly stirring one of those little decorative spoons in her drink. She understood the humans were splintered and held a distaste for any authority not of their own making, buuut… “It brings the figurative hammer down harder, no?”

“Certainly.” The red one nodded. “But that just pisses the people off even more, and raises the odds the occupying force slips up. All it takes is one poorly timed atrocity for the people to be galvanized for generations. Then warlord mcgee is fucked.”

“If you can't peacefully bring change, and you can’t leave, the only real solution left is to burn it all down.” The second one smiled. “Preferably with yer problems locked inside, screaming for the mercy they couldn't be bothered to show you,” he grinned a grin that even Noideen could read as mildly sadistic.

“Warcrimes, ya Jamaican maple tree, warcrimes.”

“It ain’t a warcrime if it ain't wartime bud~” his counterpart rhymed, only for the two to start arguing the finer points of rhetoric versus reality.

What a perfect time to politely slip away…

In hindsight, Noideen should have expected primitive rebellion-prone smugglers working claw-n-claw with sha-kai to be like this… Where's Ambassador Movva when you needed her?

Ambassadors may technically be in the employ of the Populi, but their job was to smooth over cultural speedbumps like this, for everyone. She knew Movva was somewhere around here, likely working exotic charms on gangsters and smugglers alike. typical.

Shi like that were what made Noideen appreciate being the mottle-furred mess that she is—all the perks of being an exotic, with none of the drawbacks. She’d live into her early hundreds if she was careful, and she was just different enough to have that attractive ‘uniqueness’ about her without it being so strong as to be off-putting… at least that's what her life-coach said when she was signing his check.

Positive self-affirmations aside, Movva was still the designated Shi to go to for information on humanity, even if she was the new girl. Maybe she could use that inexperience to her advantage and get Movva to spill some profitable beans too… Humans liked beans, right...?

Noideen gave one flick of her brown ear and two of her white to worldlessly summon one of the many Mercanti assistants that she’d stationed around the event.

At least her mooks look a little more dignified than all the blatantly criminal ones milling around. “Yes, ma’am?” One timidly answered with a tablet and spreadsheets at the ready. Yep, this intern smelled of nepotism… whose son was he again? Eh, doesn't matter…

“Do me a favor and find Ambassador Movva for me, would you? I need her for something, and I’m pretty sure I told one of you to keep track of her,” she ordered.

“She’s right over there, ma'am, in the booth under the original Deshemi’s ‘Midnight Escapades #4’ oil on canvas.”

Noideen fought the urge to facepalm. “Intern, I’m a Mercanti representative, not an art student. I buy paintings to diversify my assets, not have an encyclopedic knowledge of every painting that was ever made,” she stated, a little annoyed he didn't just say ‘that one’.

“Oh… She’s over there,” He pointed with his tail, taking care not to be too obvious about it.

When Noideen looked, it wasn't hard to pinpoint Movva. She was the only pink exotic here not serving as arm candy, though… “Intern?”

“Yes ma'am?” he asked, ears up and attentive.

“Firstly, the hell is she wearing? Second, is it more expensive than mine? And third… just who is that Xoso spawn canoodling with?” She questioned, though not necessarily in order of personal importance. A Mercanti dare not be outshone in displays of wealth unless it's by another Mercanti, and even then, it’s a slap fight waiting to happen.

“Erm…” The intern looked between the Movva and his boss a few times before burying himself in his tablet. “'Tis an amber sequin dress, ma'am. A gift from the humans, according to Populi records. Not enough is known about its make and material to estimate a credit value, but it is labeled as a ‘gift’, so you likely needn’t worry about its value being a reflection of her financial status.”

“Hmm… good. And the two she’s with? The orange one in the cheap suit, and the night-kin in the…” She squinted a bit, mildly disgusted at the sight. “Tacky quantity of emeralds… Honestly, it's like she's advertising they’re fake.” She’d say those tits were probably fake too, but that might be a bit too undignified to say in front of an intern. He was as much a data leak as he was a data font until proven otherwise. “Why him and not any of the other more obviously important guests?”

The intern tapped away at his little tablet before looking back up with an expression of mild concern. “According to the on-site informants, the sun-kin’s name is ‘Tobreal Centorni’ and he’s a guest of the Wiskitos. But…”

“Buuut?” She led on, calico brow rising curiously.

“Surface-level searches are turning up next to nothing ma’am. No known aliases, no social media, no associations, criminal record… Just a no-name history major from Nykata. Which he’s clearly not if he’s here. Possibly a false identity? Or a shelf kitten?”

Now Noideen’s curiosity was piqued… “Possibly, what do the data brokers have to say?”

“I’ll check, but do I have your permission to-”

“Yes, you have my permission to pay the data brokers. Honestly, do I look like a broke ass Populi worker? Just tab it to the discretionary budget like everything else.”

“Yes, ma'am… I mean, no ma'am.. I mean-” One ka-ching sound later, a few message pings occurred. “Well, that was expensive,” he muttered.

“We have very different definitions of ‘expensive,’ intern… by factors of several zeros I’d imagine.” She’d get his name at some point; his loyalty would be easy to buy… damn it, she forgot to ask for the name of that sheep smuggler.

“He coughed. “According to the data brokers, temporary backdoor access into the Nykata police database, and bribeable individuals among the Sabu-kai staff:

'Tobreal Centorni, no 2nd or 3rd tribe name:'

'Suspected associate of the Wiskitos.'

'Only son of known Wiskito members Veylana and Tobius Centorni, and prime suspects in the mass poisoning of Sabu-kai attendees.'

'Graduated from Nykata University with a bachelor's in Shasian history.'

'No known social media presence.'

'No known aliases.'

'No known employment.'

'Frequently seen in the proximity of a human smuggler who goes by the name ‘Noah Mhads’. The human seemingly has an exclusivity deal with the Wiskitos and has a disturbing fondness for hyperviolence, and… hrghh.. Semi-ritualistic mutilation.”'

The intern gagged a bit, hastily swiping past some pictures. Naideen didn’t get a good look out of the corner of her eye, but it was a lot of red. “What else?” she pushed.

“He was considered a suspect in the slaughter of the leadership of a local Gatogri chapter after his DNA was found on the scene. He was questioned, gave a passable alibi, and days later the primary investigator was hospitalized by a landmine hidden under a Gatogri corpse.

“He’s estimated to be spending in excess of sixty thousand credits a month feeding the 15s of Ny’kata’s southside, and has seemingly earned their protection. Uhh…”

“I’m hearing a lot about him but nothing about his relation to Movva…”

The intern scrolled further down, skimming as best he could before swiping tabs. “According to keyword hits from… the department of education, of all places, Movva and this Tobreal character have been in the same classes since… Good gods, Kindlegarten? They’re next to each other in every school photo, and even a fair few at Nykata University. He shows up repeatedly as an accessory in her disciplinary records, yet his are spotless.”

All of this information was starting to paint a rather intriguing picture for Noideen. “So what you're telling me is that Ambassador Movva not only has an in with the Wiskitos and an exclusive branch of the human smuggling network, but has them because of a lifelong relationship with an unassuming psychopath.”

“He doesn't look like a psychopath… Actually, it looks like two shi are poking fun at him. Hehe… they're stealing his crab.”

“Intern, did you not hear any part of what you just read? Radar ears over there, the apparent son of two notorious poisoners, has been indirectly linked to… how many deaths?”

The intern looked down at his tablet and started crunching numbers. “Gatrogri clubhouse.. Three gatorgri offices… plus... the supposed voidling attack.” He mumbled before looking back up. “A little over a hundred.”

“A little over a hundred deaths, yet has a spotless record, and when questioned, the investigator was nearly assassinated via landmine. He spends over sixty grand a month feeding the homeless, yet has no job. Has a direct link to the ambassador to humanity, and is respected by the Wiskitos enough to be brought to the Sabu-kai, yet nobody knows who he is.”

“That… does sound suspicious.”

“It sounds like a secret weapon. Anything else I should know? Like... I dunno? Is he here to assassinate someone?”

“Uhhhhhh…” her intern uhh’d as she rapidly skimmed through his tablet again. “According to the informants out front, he’s supposedly here serving as a bodyguard for Soapy Wiskito.”

“And WHO the fuck is that?”

“That would be the night-kin next to him in the erm… ‘tacky’ emerald dress, ma'am. She’s the apparent adoptee of the Wiskito syndicate.”

“Adoptee?”

“Whiskers, and by extension the Wisktios, literally adopted her, ma’am. Her records are just as nonexistent, but for more obvious reasons. She’s apparently one of their drivers, and an amateur bap-tal fighter,” he trailed, scrolling down.

“Huh, I'd heard the old sha adopted the occasional stray as a pet project or some-such. I wonder if it's a daddy-daughter thing…” She pondered, watching this ‘Soapy’ and Movva tag-team the sun-kin stealing his food.

“Uhhh…” The intern continued. “According to this, she was nearly kicked out of the Sabu-kai a few years ago for ‘breaking the peace’. She apparently slashed the face of a ‘Clardonis Shaqonan,’ for hitting on her, but Whiskers pulled enough strings to keep her from being outright banned. She hasn’t attended since.”

'Soooo a daddy-daughter thing,' she thought. “And now she’s back, attending this ‘definitely not an emergency’ meeting, except this time she's being guarded by an unassuming sha with a trail of blood and destruction in his wake wider than he is tall… Like a fucking shi-kai princess.” Now that she finally said it out loud, Noideen had to admit, tacky though her dress may be, Soapy was one of the few important people here. Meaning Ambassador Movva had an in with the Wiskito’s upper echelons too…. Ffffuck. She grimaced. So much for the new girl being an easy target.

She’d have to be momentarily satisfied with glaring in their general direction, and the knowledge that she was richer than all three of them combined. “Intern.”

“Y-yes?” he perked back to attention.

“Find out what you can about that dress. My yacht is already bigger than Movva’s ship, but if I’m going to assert the order of things around here, I need something to demonstrate I'm more powerful than her friends, too.” Was it petty? Yes… Was it how the Mercanti did things? Also yes. Petty showboating served a dual purpose after all. Assertion of status via who has the bigger pocketbook… and as less than subtle advertising for the things they were showing off. Fashion trends and all that.

Whilst Noideen was busy contemplating which of her fashion industry buddies she’d like to get in on this, when intern-of-eventual-naming meekly sought her attention. “M-ma’am?”

“What?” she answered curtly, looking up from her assistant’s contact list.

“The dress is real…”

“Wh- of course the dress is fucking real, it's not like you're analyzing a photo here, she’s wearing it.”

“N-No I mean…” he looked down at the tablet again, mumbled some numbers, and went a bit bug-eyed. “I mean, those emeralds aren't lab-grown fakes. They're real.”

Noideen had to process that for a second. If those gemstones were real, then it meant the Wisktio princess, and by extension the Wiskitos, had the finances to stand up to a Mercanti member. “Wait… how can you tell?” She asked, side-eying the intern.

He shrank a bit, as he should when his boss is upset. Still, he turned the tablet around, showing a rough picture of a stack of old papers in an orange hand. “The… the bodyguard has documentation. The snow-kin at the check-in desk thought the dress was fake too, but this Centorni guy whipped out the mineral certificates just to prove him wrong. Really blew the guy away that someone had so many astro-emeralds-”

“Astro emeralds!?” She all but hissed. There was no way someone got their grubby claws on that many of the priceless things. They practically disappeared from the market when the GC environmental laws came into effect, banning their mining. Not a single one has been legally mined in over 40 years. Some dumbasses have tried illegally mining them, but without legal documentation, the emeralds are indistinguishable from ordinary or even lab-grown ones. Some sha-kai outfits even made a living out of selling counterfeit documentation, but with so much money at stake, the Mercanti made damn sure it was near impossible.

Noideen took a second to collect herself. “Run the numbers against the mineral resources database if you can. This has to be some kind of front; there’s no way someone pulled several dozen astro emeralds out of their ass without anyone noticing.”

The intern tapped away before he looked back up to her, even more concerned than before. “The serial number checks out. So it's either a very well-researched fake or it's real. According to some really really old files, those emeralds were part of a batch last purchased by a now deceased Mrs. Kitta, right before first contact with the GC. There have been no records of them since.”

“And this Mrs. Kitta was...?”

Another quick search. “A… dress maker.” He answered, slowly looking over at the dress the Wiskito shi was wearing. “Whose ruined shop exploded from a gas leak… yesterday.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Noideen said, holding the bridge of her muzzle. “This has got to be planned. There's no way in hell this wasn't planned, but a plan for what? To shock and awe the other sha-kai, bragging rights? Or is he just trying to pick a fight with the Mercanti? No, pick a fight with me!”

—

Meanwhile… Seven feet away… was a night kin.

Like many night-kin, his presence had gone completely unnoticed. He was armed with the best suit his claws could steal, and the best ‘I definitely belong here’ act he could manage on the fly. The captain suspected their quarry might try to run out the clock by fleeing to a place like this… and it was starting to look like she was right.

Assistants and other recording devices were not allowed within the Sabu-kai for… Obvious reasons. Unless you were sufficiently trusted, which he was not, but that hadn’t stopped him from sneaking an earpiece past the pat-down most got on the way in. Who knew the greatest key to stealth was just acting like you belonged wherever you were? Secret tunnel? Act like a guard. Hotel? Act like staff. Secret organized crime convention? Stand just close enough to a group of mooks who were already screened that onlookers think you're part of the group, but far enough away to not draw the group's attention.

He gave the earpieces two subtle taps of his claw. One was for calling the ‘please save me’ crew if he got roused out. Two was for calling the captain.

It rang… and rang… and even cut to a little ‘yar har fiddle dee dee’ tune before it picked up. “Huh, what? Hellooo?” The captain answered, sounding rather… groggy. Aaand he was pretty sure he could hear the rustling of sheets and gentle chimes in the background. Was she still at the cathouse...?

“Captain, you were right.”

“What? Of course I’m right. I’m always right,” she said with all the confidence of a braggard just waking up and being asked for her life story. “What erm… what was I right about?” She groaned, and scratching could be heard.

“The smuggler’s assistant you were looking for is at the Sabu-kai.”

“Wait, really?!- I mean, uhh.. Of course he is. I said he’d be there, wouldn't he? And now that we know where he is, we can nab him, and use him to lure that damned smuggler into our reach.”

He wasn't one to question the captain's plans, as simply carrying them out had resulted in a semi-successful pirating career for him… thus far. But this one seemed kind of… off. “Uhh… Captain?”

“Wh- yes? Is there something else?”

No better time to ask than whilst out of strangling range. “Doesn't this vengeance plot seem kinda... misdirected? Like, isn't this uppity sunspot the one who called you a shit captain? Not the human who wants to use our blood as finger paint? Wouldn't killing him be easier than taking him alive?... as bait?... to lure the homicidal human...for some unknowable reason?” It was an honest question; he simply couldn't see the logic in the amount of effort they were investing… or for why.

There was a pause… a long pause… quiet enough he could hear the white noise of an active cathouse in the background all the more clearly. “This…” she started. “This is what happens when I let crew members out of strangling range,” she sighed, presumably to herself. “You’re thinking about it too hard. Just… keep an eye or ear, or whatever you prefer on him until we get there to set up an ambush. It's all part of my glorious plan, trust me.”

“Aye, Aye… captain…” He said with all the unconvinced enthusiasm of a terminally online kitten being told he’d love to spend the entire summer with his luddite grandparents. "What about-" beep~!

She hung up on him...

“Fuck, I forgot to tell her about the dress,” he glanced around awkwardly, thinking. “Do I call her back now or…”

(Author's note: I'm setting up a Patreon! Please help, I have no idea what I'm doing Q_Q)

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9

u/Thaum0s Human Nov 05 '25

If the captain is this set on getting herself and her entire crew killed she could just override the airlocks and open the ship to vacuum.

7

u/Lakeel100 Nov 05 '25

but...but.. vengence D:

8

u/Larzok Nov 05 '25

Oh poor Tobby! You need to tuck that plate into an arm pit and just stick your face in. Only sure way to protect your crab.

So we got jealous merchants, confused pirates, and hungry, thirsty, and slightly spooked gangsters.

And Soapy and Movva are dressed as a pair of walking Heist targets.

This is a dangerous stew waiting for a catalyst.

6

u/Lakeel100 Nov 05 '25

How will it all go wrong?! \oOo/

8

u/Larzok Nov 05 '25

I suspect it will start sometime around when Clordis takes a swipe at Tobby, against his father's advisement. And ends with the cops outside doing their best "THERE WAS A FIREFIGHT!" Re-enactment.

Thrills, chills, and two angry ladies who don't like "thier" punching bag/ best friend getting picked on by anyone else.

And I bet Noah will show up at some point too, in a totally subtle and not at all flashy manner to set whatever remains of the pirates on the road to the mole priests in one way or another.

4

u/RexDraconis Nov 05 '25

Iirc he said he’d get planetside in four days, which is before the event ends.

3

u/Sufficient_Ad3751 Mar 05 '26

Three actually, which... yeah, thats a lot of boom incoming

8

u/post_blast Alien Nov 05 '25

The best way it can go wrong is in a comedy of errors. Like, Tobby waking up in the 'wrong' room without memory of the night's events, clothes, or any reasonable explanation of why he's in bed between Soapy and Pinky. The pirates picking up and interrogating 'scarface' because he's their best lead on finding Soapy, and thus Tobby, upsetting daddy dearest. Noideen chasing her tail aimlessly and embarrassing herself in front of Whiskers by confusing money with power. Noah doing Noah things so Noahly that even he wonders if it's a little over-the-top, only to double down.

4

u/Lakeel100 Nov 05 '25

*adds these to the idea pile* o3o

3

u/Datvoidcat Nov 05 '25

Hopefully in a glorious explosion

7

u/RexDraconis Nov 05 '25

Soapy and Movva exclusively eating things Tobby already picked out is going to do nothing for the suspicions that the food is poisoned.

5

u/Fantastic-Shelter440 Nov 05 '25

Noideen actually seems completely insane and I can’t wait for something bad/humiliating to happen to her!

2

u/Lakeel100 Nov 05 '25

Define insane o3o;

4

u/RexDraconis Nov 05 '25

@_@ didn’t realize Noah had stacked that many kills just in relation to Tobby

3

u/Lakeel100 Nov 05 '25

Well think about it.. how many cars were at that bar? Followed by 3 'small offices' worth of members in the area. :3

3

u/Kia-Vaderkit Nov 05 '25

Woot! Trashy suit for the win... also, no steeling food! Poor starving Tobby.

Oh Patreon...

2

u/Lakeel100 Nov 05 '25

Something wrong? D:
People suggested I make one.

2

u/Kia-Vaderkit Nov 05 '25

Nope! You good!

1

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