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Victory sat at her desk, staring at the screen. Her elbows were on the surface, supporting her head as she blinked tiredly. She'd been drilling holes in her mixing board software for the better part of four hours now, and had been working on this song for about... She checked the clock on her screen. About three of those four hours. A heavy sigh punctuated the silence. She'd been listening to the same beat track so long with her minor edits that the sound was starting to lose meaning. As sharp as her mind was, it was starting to tune out the repetitive beat. Maybe she needed a break, but her next gig was in two days, and she really needed to finish her set list.

She'd been hired to play at a wedding. A nonstandard union to be sure, a partnership between a human and a pokemon - Furfrou. The news had been calling it all manner of things, not that she paid that much attention. Work was work where she could get it. She'd love to get something more stable, working at a club of some kind, not having to go out of her way to find scoops, leads, and taking on projects no one else would touch, like this wedding. As if weddings weren't enough stress.

Her head slipped out of her hands and hit her desk with a heavy thud, knocking over her microphone, glass, and her little star-shaped paper holder - which was currently empty - with her big, V-shaped ears. Victory was a Victini, a pokemon associated with victory and luck. The association had been the source of her stage name, Victory. Despite how much she struggled, Victory did have one trick up her sleeve that others didn't - her Victory Star. An innate ability that just made her luckier overall. It heightened her senses when she needed it - a little stronger, a little faster, a little smarter, a little more focused... whatever she needed to win. It didn't always clinch the victory for her, but it was often enough to feel her stage name, and ability, were well warranted.

Unfortunately, it didn't help her when she wasn't performing or competing, like right now. With the stupid mastering track on her screen. Sure, the playlist was almost done, she'd had a month to work on it. Amid her regular selection of request songs, she'd been more or less commissioned to mix and remix a few select songs for the happy couple. Given the media storm over the event, she needed to make sure that her part was perfect. Or as perfect as it could be. Last thing she needed was to show up unprepared - her victory star could only do so much. Even it couldn't perform miracles.

She sat for a while, head sitting on the desk as she let out a little groan. Her hands groped around in the dark around her desk until it found what it was looking for - a large, glass bottle of distilled relaxation. Her other hand fished around for her glass, lifting it upright again, giving it a shake, and setting it back down. She briefly considered pouring blind - she wasn't that uncoordinated. As she lifted the bottle, she thought better of it, and sat up, using the light of the monitors to guide her hand to the glass, and poured herself something to take a little edge off.

She downed the swig in one gulp. It burned all the way down. She let out a small sigh, exhaling a little swirl of flame as she did, letting her head fall back against her chair as she looked up at the ceiling. Not that there was much to see - it was dark. Victory had taken a break when the last mix had been finished, which was done in about the amount of time that she'd been staring at this one. The mastering was just wrapping up on the computer's screen, the progress bar showing that the saving would be done soon. Hopefully it would hit her before then so mastering could continue. It would take a second for the impromptu medicine to work, even if she always wished it would be a little faster. As she waited, she hit the spacebar on her computer and the song began to play one more time.

It wasn't a bad song - a blend of traditional pokemon music, mixed with some of the traditional irish songs. It was meant to be the procession march - she couldn't just fill this one with pop cuts and bass to help smooth over the small imperfections in the blend. It was a lot harder to mask the crossfading without a lot of work and some sort of underlying beat. She'd found something she felt would work, but listening to it again for the umpteen millionth, billionth time, there were still so many little things wrong with it. A little bit of healing there, some equalizing balance here, raise the bass, pull more midtones, drop bass... so many fine tuning little tweaks as she tried to get a balance she was happy with, and yet, even now, there was still so much work to be done on the track. It felt that, as far as she'd come, there was still so much farther to go.

As the song ended, Victory heard her phone ringing. _Shit!_She shouted mentally as she fumbled over the small cell, slipping her headphones off and answering the call.

"You've found Victory!" She said, putting on her best customer service voice. "What can I do for ya?"

"Hello Victory." Came a professional, cool female voice from the line. "My name is Nikki, and I represent Café Plaisir. We are looking for some local talent as part of a sort of community outreach effort following our recent renovations. As part of this, we've decided to contact you, to see if you'd be interested in doing a show for us at our in-house club, Dark Pulse."

Victory thought the alcohol was playing a trick on her. She looked at her phone - yep, the line was on.

"Miss Victory?" Nikki prompted. "Are you there?"

"Y-yes, sorry." Victory said, getting her bearings. "I'd love to. When would it be?"

"You'd be covering the club on Tuesday night. You're free to bring whatever music you'd like, just make sure you've got something they can dance to." Nikki replied, maintaining her professional demeanor, but sounding like someone who was getting really tired of her script.

Tuesday... It was Thursday now. That gave her enough time to sort out the wedding on Saturday, and still give her maybe two days to work out a setlist for that. Sure, she could recycle a fair amount of it, but... It was a lot of work on short notice, especially with the wedding. On the other hand, if she could pull off the wedding perfectly, following the coattails of that, if she performed at an actual club, she might draw a larger crowd. This could be huge, she could even get signed.

The prospect was too juicy to pass up.

"Yeah, I'm free Tuesday." Victory said, suppressing her excitement, "I'd love to come for yer outreach event thing."

"Excellent. The club formally opens at 7 PM, so make sure you show up with enough time to set up your equipment and perform any pre-event work you need to do. You know how much of that you need better than me." She said, sounding like she was drifting off script a bit, more than a little bored.

"I will be there." Victory confirmed.

"Do you need directions, or..."

"Nah, I got my phone. It'll tell me how to get there. Dark Pulse, right?" Victory interjected.

"...Cafe Plaisir. Dark Pulse is inside the café proper." Nikki's voice sounded a bit more terse for being interrupted.

"Right, sorry. Plaisir. I can find that, no worries." Victory replied back quickly. "See you on Tuesday!"

"Thank you, Victory. We look forward to hosting you." Nikki sounded less than halfhearted. Maybe even less than quarter-hearted.

"It's Victory, or Val for short. Victory's my stage name." the Victini added quickly.

"Yes, alright Miss Victory. We'll see you then."

"See you!" Val replied, her small body quivering with excitement. Community outreach event! At a real club! Dark Pulse - an ominous name to be sure, but it couldn't be that bad. She was going to have to get a set list ready for that! She eagerly snapped her focus back to her monitor, only to have her excitement crushed by a familiar foe - the unfinished wedding procession master on her screen. It taunted her - one thing was missing. Something she couldn't put a finger on. "Maybe another shot of medicine would help..." She said, pouring another small glass of the burning fluid. She drained it, feeling it scorch her all the way down.

--

The light of the club strobed around her as she mixed and turned the tables. The crowd wasn't dancing. It wasn't even moving. It just watched her expectantly. Victory did her best to draw them in, coaxing them to action but instead the crowd roared in a chorus of disapproval. Faceless voices crying out for her to get off the stage. The booth had become a stage, the spotlights were on her... Across from her was an upset looking couple, hurt, staring judgmentally at her as she reached for records that were on longer there.

The floor became lined with pews, the crowd took their seats and watched as Victory struggled hopelessly before them, put on the spot. Flashbulbs went off as paparazzi swarmed the chapel, recording every second of her failure, the couple passing their judgement behind the flare. The crowd began to boo harder, joining together into a tidal wave of disapproval as it crashed against her.

She struggled to swim, begging for relief, until her hand touched something hard and metal. Her fingers closed around the familiar shape of her flask. She ripped the cap off, taking a healthy swig as the current subsided, draining away and leaving her resting on a beach. The world was quiet again, and the disapproving crowd had washed away into the calm ocean current. She felt her soul come to ease as she reclined in the sun...

--

Val awoke the next day with her head on her keyboard, looking sideways into an empty, long necked bottle. Looked like she'd ended up having a little too much. Not that she could tell that right now. As soon as the light hit her big blue eyes, she felt like her brain was on fire, forcing her eyes to clench tight as she shut out the light.

The light may have been gone, but the pain was still very much there. A quick mental inventory of her body told her that; her mouth felt cottony, her head was filled with a painful haze, feeling like it was tempted to split if she did anything too harsh right now. Ears were hyper sensitive - the large, V-shaped red membranes could normally pick up on things pretty well, but with her body like this, she could almost hear her fur growing. Sounds hurt. Speaking of hurt, her stomach wasn't feeling all that great either. Mr. Hangover had come to visit, and he'd brought all of his friends.

She pushed herself off the desk back into the chair with a heavy wince and a heavier grunt. She blinked a few times, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and letting her world to come into focus. The bottle was empty. Looks like there'd be no hair of the Houndour today, and she'd have to deal with it in a productive, adult way instead. She lurched out of her chair, and made her way to the kitchen, the second of the three rooms of her apartment. Breakfast would help. She washed her hands and splashed some cold water on her face - the sting of the water helped to wake up a little more, and made the world sharper and more vibrant.

She took stock of the fridge. Looked like an omelette day. She pulled out a few eggs, protein, cheese, some peppers... a little bit of everything a girl needed to start the day. After combining them in a pan and liberal application of some of her own fire abilities, she had edible, if slightly scorched, food. She took breakfast and a mug of instant coffee back to her computer. It was friday. She had one day before the wedding... and the dress rehearsal was tonight. So it needed to be ready in... She checked the clock on her computer, taking a second for her eyes to focus on it. 11:28 AM. She checked her phone's calendar as she drank the awful coffee; it wasn't the coffee she wanted, but it was the coffee she deserved. She needed to be at the dress rehearsal before 6 PM. She needed about an hour to set up, so before 5.

_ _

_Fuck._she thought. As if the block she was having on the procession wasn't enough trouble. That gave her about 5 hours, and she had to finish the procession and the song for the father-daughter dance. Everything else was cut, print, ready to ship. She decided to tackle the song she hadn't started yet. She pulled up a few songs in her mastering feed and began to work, quickly shovelling down breakfast as she made her selections. It wasn't going to be as pretty as some of her other work, but she'd be ready, come hell or high water... well maybe not the water.

It can't be that hard. Let's remix the father's song into a song from the daughter... rip the track, overlay the lyrics... up the tempo and... She felt better about working on this song. This sort of mashup wasn't hard for her. Something old, and something new... she thought, blending the underlying tracks, and putting the lyrics from the father's song into the bridge, cool, confident, like something from the era of rock, while keeping the pop-y upbeat refrain from the daughter's pop song. The combination of the lyrics seemed to change the meanings of both songs into something new, one she hoped would convey the personalities of those involved. She knew she'd have to submit them to the couple for approval and last minute changes after the rehearsal.

She was really hoping for no changes. She needed to start working on a set for Dark Pulse tonight, and any remakes would keep her up all night, easy. She checked her computer's clock as the finished song was saved into a playable format. 2:47. It had taken only three hours. She still had two before she needed to be there, not counting travel time. Which was about 35 minutes. So she really had about an hour and a half to break her block. She sighed and swapped back to her master, and her heart sank. It didn't look how it did last night, which meant one of two things - she'd been laying on some of the setting keys and broke it and she could just undo it with a few quick undos, or Drunk Victory had played with it. The problem with Drunk Victory was, although she had all of her regular competency, and in spades at that, she could only really do her best work when she was really into it. Hungover Victory was suspecting that the procession march did not fit into the interest category, given Drunk Victory's fondness for hot and heavy beats, over something supposed to be refined and restrained like her current project. She picked up her headphones and slipped them on, bracing for the worst as she hit the play button.

The melody was as elegant and refined as it had been the previous night, with a few noticeable tweaks. It had been Drunk Victory. Victory swore audibly as she listened. She liked some things. The increased orchestral backing was a nice touch. She'd had some in there before, but the addition of a greater string section really seemed to help out, as well as the deeper, underplay of timpani drums, seeming to call attention to a way one was meant to walk, almost hidden under everything else. It was actually a lot of improvement. Except for one thing.

The procession did not need to be dubstep.

But that was an easy enough fix. Just cut out the drop and the actual bass section and... She gave it another listen, just to be safe. Looked like she'd cut out all the bass, as she listened to the march in its entirety. Just a little bit of healing and fading at the seams and it'd be good enough! She checked the clock as the system chewed through the healing, and began printing the playable file. 4:30 PM. If she left _right this second_she'd get there 5 minutes later than she was hoping to, assuming there was no traffic. She grabbed her bag, threw the drive with the newly pressed songs in with her laptop and other equipment - mostly granola bars and bottled water - and hit the road. Or, really, the skies.

One of the benefits of being a tiny psychic type is that she could fly. Not as effectively as a bird could, but enough for general transportation, like she was doing right now. She produced her phone and pulled up the address of the First Reformed Church of Arceus, and flew as fast as she could. There were some headwinds, but that wasn't about to stop her. Not with everyone counting on her being there.

She arrived a little later than expected, at about 5:13. 45 minutes was cutting it close, but the church at least had a rudimentary sound system. Nothing too special or that would require much tweaking. The hard part was she had to set up the speakers for the reception downstairs. But that wasn't until tomorrow, at least. She met with the pastor, an old Xatu, who seemed happy to see her and gave her the key to the sound booth upstairs, so she could go set up. The booth was on the upper floor, looking out over the many pews below. The system up here was archaic, and she wondered if it would even run, but her job was to make it work, one way or another.

She produced her laptop and drive, and connected it to the sound system with an auxiliary cable. It felt stupid to have to do it this way, without a dock or any real direct connection, but that's just the way it went sometimes. She fired up a track from her experimental beats folder to perform a sound test, opening a file called NoneSuch, a track given to her by an old friend she'd wanted to finish for the longest time, but hadn't gotten around to fixing.

The hall filled with the haunting piano keys, and Victory started to make adjustments on her system's equalizer. Eventually, she found a tone she was happy with and went out to meet her employers - the soon-to-be newlyweds. The groom was sitting on a bench, dressed in business-casual attire - button up shirt, khaki pants, nothing really all that fancy - but it was the rehearsal, so it wasn't that big of a deal. Tomorrow, he'd look nicer, in a slick tuxedo, he might even shave - he was rocking a rather thick beard. It wasn't as thick as his bride to be's fur though. The Furfrou seemed to be doing a lot of the work - she seemed to be ironing out last minute details with the florist about the flowers. Her fur was not as clean as her groom's clothes - she seemed more than a little tense, if the various protrusions of fur weren't an indication.

Victory approached the groom, trying her best to sound relaxed. She flashed him a quick V with her fingers as he waved.

"Oh, hi. You're the DJ, right?" he asked, sounding a little tired. "Heather's been looking for you."

"Sorry Jeff. I was runnin' a little late today." Victory said apologetically, scratching nervously at the back of her head.

"As long as you're not late tomorrow, we can avoid the meltdown." He said with a light laugh.

Victory returned it with a smile. "Alright, well, let me go tell 'er I'm here. Thanks Jeff." She turned her attention to bride, who seemed to be done with the florist - a Comfey. Seemed appropriate. It was now her turn to get in the hound's gaze. Victory felt her blood run cold as Heather stared her down, and crossed over.

"Where have you been?" the furfrou demanded, coming to a stop. The dog stood about three times her size. The smaller Victini could have easily been mistaken for a chew toy as the bride loomed, her shaggy white fur making her seem far more menacing.

"Sorry, I'm runnin' a little late puttin' some last minute touches on your requests."

"You've had a month to work on it! Why were you working at the last minute!?" She said, sounding incredulous and angry.

It was a question Victory had answered many times. "I do a lot of the heavy liftin' in creating songs when I first get th' order, and spend much time an' labor refinin' it and honin' it until it's as perfect as can be." She said in a tone and inflection that sounded very rehearsed. A fact Heather seemed to notice.

"I hope it wasn't that dreadful music I heard a little while ago." She said, narrowing her eyes.

That almost hurt. Victory had to fight to keep Victory as professional as possible. "All due respect miss, that was an unfinished work from a friend, who I lost some time ago, when..."

"Well, don't play it, I don't want everyone to be miserable during this." Heather barked. "You have the music ready?"

"Yeah, I do. It's queued up and ready to hit when the rehearsal starts." Victory was really wishing she could go back to dealing with the groom - he seemed a lot more relaxed about this.

"Well, you'd better. I can't afford to have this go wrong." Heather huffed, before turning on her heels and finding the caterer to abuse.

"Hey, sorry about that." came a familiar voice from behind. Victory spun around and saw Jeff standing there. If Heather was big, Jeff was huge - standing roughly six times the Victini's size. She floated up to be at eye level - it was quite a ways up.

Jeff patiently waited for Victory to get adjusted before continuing. "She's just a little tense. This is kind of a big deal. We're not the first marriage between human and pokemon, but we might be the second or third. We've been getting questions from the news all week, and been threatened almost every day since it got out." He frowned a little. "The world is more accepting than it used to be, but we still have a way to go."

"Amen to that." Victory agreed, nodding her head. "Are ya doin' anythin'? Did'ja want to listen to my cuts?"

"Cuts?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

"The tracks. The songs ya had me make." She explained, trying not to sound condescending.

"Oh, yeah, I think I could do that. Lead the way." he sounded chipper. It was refreshing to Victory after her encounter with Heather.

One trip upstairs to the sound booth later, the two sat in the room - Victory on the counter, and Jeff in an old swiveling chair that desperately needed replacing. Victory pulled up the songs, and explained what each would be used for. Jeff nodded and listened intently to the tracks, looking fairly expressionless the whole time. When she finished the commissioned songs, and explained what music would be available for the reception, he finally looked up, and smiled warmly at her.

"I love it. You've done some good work. I knew you wouldn't let us down." He said finally.

Victory felt like a yoke had been removed from her shoulders, and she could breathe easily again. "Yeh? Ya like?"

"I do." He chuckled. "Some of it sounded a little... um... tinny? But it was from your computer speakers, so I'm not expecting miracles."

"True, yeh. When it's on a real sound system, yer gonna really hear it."

"I'll tell Heather not to worry about you then. Thank you, Victory." He offered a hand to shake, then realized it was a little too big for her, and laughed again.

She liked Jeff. People like Jeff made her job easier. She went back to set up, and Jeff went down to soothe his poor frazzled bride. Before he'd gone, she'd given him a backup drive of the music she'd made, as well as a copy of her business card, so they could listen to it and send her any last minute notes. Jeff commented that it would help put his darling Furfrou at ease, and was very thankful for her thoughtfulness.

Six rolled around, and the rehearsal began - the staff was there, with the bride, groom, and their immediate families - it was definitely an interesting mix. A collection of pokemon of all shapes and sizes on one side, and a bunch of humans with various levels of wariness at the nearby gathering of pokemon. A liberated world indeed.

Despite nervousness on both sides about how the families would get along, the rehearsal went very smoothly, taking just over two hours to complete with everyone learning their place and roles, and going through the motions a few dozen times to make sure they all knew what to do tomorrow, both for the sake of the ceremony and for the audience. There would be those who scrutinized every little detail, looking for anything out of place. As she watched from the booth, she found herself actively hoping that love truly did conquer all. They really did seem happy together - Heather seemed more relaxed, joking and laughing with her groom, and Jeff couldn't seem to stop teasing her ear during serious parts, making her have to stop, sit and scratch a bit, which made him laugh every time.

It was almost sickeningly adorable, but it made Victory happy to see such love and adoration, and she decided that maybe, just maybe, the couple could use a little extra luck tomorrow...

--

The world was a hostile place. Full of pain, misery, anger. Her world contorted, the events of the previous day twisted and contorted in her head and played back as if on a personal nightmare reel. Heather became a three-headed hellhound, cerberus incarnate. Barking, demanding, chewing her up and swallowing her down to the infernal pits of her stomach. Down a damp slide to the beat of the procession she'd spent so long working on, playing as the hits track to her nightmare. In the infernal pits, there Jeff sat, offering a friendly hand.

She gasped as she reached for it, trying to stay clear of the acid wash boiling below. Victory grabbed his hand, only to have it fade into an empty white glove in her grip. Instinctively, she let it fall to the pit below watching it sizzle away into nothingness. The air was suffocating and oppressive, and it seemed like there was no way out. In an act of desperation, her body became a ball of flame, hurtling toward the wall. It connected and repelled her. Again, she charged, and was, again, rebuffed. Again, and again the desperate Victini rushed the wall and each time she was knocked back, lower and lower as the acids below seemed to rise...

Where Jeff had been, a small silver glint caught her exhausted eye. In her last burst of strength, she shot herself over to the glint she'd seen and collected it. Her flask, heavy with purpose as Victory ripped the cap off and downed the contents. It filled her with energy and clarity as the world around her started to lighten and ease, the hellish landscape of Cerberous-Heather's stomach being pierced by spears of light, rending her defeated and causing the world around her dissolve.

Her soul was filled with the warm comfort and soothing sensation of her flask and its contents as it chased her nightmares away, leaving her with a more easy rest as the warmth radiated through her small frame.

--

Victory awoke the next morning more peacefully than she had the previous day. She hadn't blacked out at her computer while drinking and fallen asleep on her keyboard. Any day where that didn't happen was going to be a good day. She'd waited by her phone all night, in case the couple called and needed to make any revisions. There weren't any and Victory had ended up passing out on her couch, TV turned on to... She had to watch for a second to see if it was a commercial or not. It didn't appear to be ending, so... she'd fallen asleep to the soothing sounds of infomercials.

She checked her phone. 10:30 AM. She still had a few hours before the wedding. Not enough time to start building a new setlist for her next gig, but too early to go to the church and set up. If she went now, she'd be more in the way as the other staff tended to their parts - caterers bringing food in, florists moving in floral displays and putting petals everywhere. She wanted to show up early, but - she did some quick math - roughly seven hours early may be too early for her. She floated over to the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of cereal. She briefly considered substituting the milk with a little "medicine" to help keep her at ease today, but remembered that the media would be present, and the last thing she needed was to make a scene.

Milk it was.

She ate her cereal while watching the infomercial on TV - a sweeping new product she _couldn't_live without. She was only half paying attention, but it looked like they were selling some sort of mop. Not that Victory had a real need for a mop, being as small as she was. Instead, her thoughts drifted as her eyes vacantly stared at the revolutionary new mop that was only 4 times her size! Her mind wandered, thinking about the day. Paparazzi would probably be there. Guards would probably be there from the police office at least. Jeff had mentioned threats, after all. She could imagine what some of them were - violence against the couple, threatening to kill Jeff, or threatening to catch Heather, some even detailing how they'd do it... Val shook the thought off. She was going to do her part. She was going to really make it count.

After breakfast, she got up, rinsed her bowl, and packed her equipment up. In addition to her trusty backpack, she needed to bring a second bag with her - this one carrying portable tweeters on a tripod, and an extra sub for the reception. It was about as bare a kit as she could find, given it needed to be light enough for her to fly with. It would slow her down too - more weight meant more focus. More focus meant less speed. This was the best compromise she could find.

She ended up arriving about four hours early, through the lower staff entrance, and set about setup, first setting up the system in the reception area, making sure everything was up and operational from the small, portable soundboard she'd attached to the sub back when she'd done a gig and they didn't have a sound system hooked up at all. Nowhere to run the wires to or work the music from. She vowed for this not to be a problem ever again. When she was satisfied with the setup in the basement, she headed upstairs to the sound booth.

She made a quick detour to the front doors - as she suspected, there were a few police cars in the parking lot, standing by. She hadn't seen any by the staff entrance. She made a quick detour out to go and let them know there was another entrance. They thanked her for the tip and sent a car over to keep an eye on it while she explained that she was musical coordinator for the event. She bid the officers farewell, hoping they weren't actually needed. The officers seemed to share the sentiment, and she headed back inside to get the sound booth ready.

It was all pretty much ready from yesterday - she pulled her laptop out and connected it to the sound system, leaving it off for now. No need for it yet. She pulled the backing out of her backpack, and unfolded a small table where she could put food, drink, and anything else she needed - it _never_hurt to have a table along. She arranged the booth to her liking and looked out over the main hall again. It looked radically different - flowers, streamers, some guests were even milling around, human and pokemon alike. She checked her phone. Two and a half hours to go. It was time to go see the bride and groom.

She decided to check on the groom first. She found where the men were getting ready, and knocked on the door. The door was answered by someone she didn't expect. No one was at the door. At least, not where she was looking. Instead, her attention was caught by a voice in front of her. "Down here."

She looked down, and, lo, she was eye to eye with a Pachirisu. "Sorry! I'm not used to someone my own size."

"Hey, I know the feeling." He said with a grin. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm the DJ, actually. I need to see the groom quick."

"A'ight, let me get 'im." The squirrel turned his head "Hey Jeff! The DJ wants to talk to you."

A few seconds later, Jeff appeared at the door, and stepped out into the hall. He cleaned up nice from business casual. Shaved, in a sleek suit. He looked a little nervous. Just a few jitters, probably.

"Is everything ok?" Jeff said, sounding a little anxious.

"It will be. I've got my stuff set up, but I wanna do something a little extra for ya." Victory said, floating up to eye level again.

"Alright, uh, it's not going to cost us anything, right? We're already a little over budget." The tension grew.

"Nah, this is on the house. To ensure that a happy couple like you stays happy." She grinned, putting her small red hand on his forehead. Her body started to twinkle with a golden light, which began to slowly ooze onto him as well, enveloping his form in the same golden light. When he was completely covered, she removed her hand, and the light faded from him. He looked _very_confused.

"Wha..."

"A special ability o'mine. I'ma Pokemon, remember? The victory_pokemon. I gave you a Victory Star - it doesn't last forever, just a few hours. But as long as it's on ya, you'll have better luck, and just be _better at things. With this, the ceremony'll go off without a hitch."

He looked stunned. "T... thank you." He seemed to relax a little. "We could use all the help we can get."

"I figured. I'mma go see the bride here in a sec, give her one too." Victory grinned. "You two should be happy. Yer a cute couple."

Jeff nodded and muttered out another thank you before heading back into the room with his friends, while Victory set off to spread more luck to the bride. Her room wasn't far away, and was marked with a sign. Once again, the small Victini knocked. Some commotion behind the door was heard before the door swung open with a flutter of wings. A Pidgeotto was perched on the doorknob, eyeing the small Victini with a very contemptuous glare.

"Heyheyhey! I'm the DJ! Just need to talk to the bride for a second!" Victory said quickly, trying not to trip over her words.

That seemed to relax the Pidgeotto a fair amount. "Heather, the DJ needs you."

"What is the DJ?" Came a reply.

"Uh... some really short thing? Got great big ears. Never seen one before. I think it's a Pokemon?" Said the bird, who seemed to be scrutinizing Victory, who was muttering under her breath.

"Yeah, that sounds like her. I'll be right there." Came the voice again. It sounded a bit softer than it had yesterday, and after a second, she was pulled into the room. The room was disorganized and in disarray - clothing scattered everywhere, emergency style bags were open on a table, with everything one would need - starch, bleach pen, anti-static, and a few other things Victory didn't get to see as her attention was directed to the bride, who was made up in her wedding attire.

She looked nothing like she had the previous day. Where she'd been rough and shaggy, she looked radiant. Her fur had been trimmed and styled to resemble a bridal gown. Victory actually mistook her as wearing a gown at first, but the fur had been pulled down into a short trail, and frilled along the side to give it the appearance of lace, tapered up the body, above her shoulders, where it seemed draped along her. The hair on her head was pulled down like a veil as well, to complete the look. She wasn't sure how they did it, but whoever had done her hair was some sort of mad genius beautician.

"Is everything alright?" She asked, sounding softer and more feminine than the harsh side she'd dealt with yesterday.

"I trust yer happy with the music, since I didn't hear the call?" She asked, leading in with something actually business related.

"Oh! Yes! Jeff played it for me last night - thank you for giving us the drive. Sorry I was such a bitch yesterday, I..."

"Hey, weddin's are stressful. It's nothin'." She said with a grin, cutting the bride off.

Heather at first looked like she was going to snap for getting cut off, but then seemed to register the words, and laughed a bit. "Yes, they are. I'm still sorry. Your work was wonderful, and I'm sorry for doubting you."

"It's nothin'." Victory said, glad for the apology. "Actually, I wanna give ya a little extra while I'm here. T'put yer mind at ease."

"Oh, you don't have to..." She said, sounding a little embarrassed. Her friends stopped chatting in the background to see what was going on with the DJ still being here.

"I know I don't have to - I wanna." Victory replied earnestly. "Watchin' you two from the sound booth durin' the rehearsal? You two are real adorable together. I wanna make sure that happens, so you two can have a nice long happy life together, yeah?"

"Well, what is it?" She asked hesitantly.

"Somethin' you can't get anywhere else. Now, close your eyes..."

Heather shot a nervous look at her friends, who shrugged back at her. She took a deep breath, turned back to Victory, and closed her eyes. As she'd done with Jeff, she put a hand on the canid's forehead, and once again her body began to glow with the sparkling golden light as it moved from Victory to Heather, enveloping the pair completely. Her friends watched, some made sounds, but Victory ignored it, focusing on getting this right. After a minute or so, she removed her hand, and once again, the light slowly fading from them.

"What was that?" Heather asked, opening her eyes and looking around.

"It's my Victory Star, a skill unique to Victini, like me." She said with a grin, "Ya never know when you could use a little luck, especially on a big day like this. It'll make everythin' jus'... easier."

Heather was speechless. "T...thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"Again, I wanted to." Victory reminded her. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I gotta get back to the sound booth. I did my sound check already, but it's, like..." she looked at the clock hanging in the room. "Jjjjjuuuuust over an hour until showtime!"

That seemed to help reality soak back into the bride. She quickly thanked Victory for the gift and let the tiny pokemon get back to her booth. Victory hurried up to the booth. She really needed to get an assistant for weddings. Or learn how to clone herself. She made a mental note to come back to later as she took stock of her preparations:

? 5 Granola bars

? 2 bottles of water

? 1 Can of El Tauros

? 1 Flask of 'Medicine'

? Spare laptop battery

? Assorted useful cables (AUX, XML, ¼-? adapter, extra stereo wire)

? Solder coils

Really, just something for any occasion. Especially one as stressful as this. The bride and groom having her Victory Stars helped put her at ease as she watched the time on her phone. At T-one hour, she started playing some ambient music - soft, simple, just to help arriving guests get in the mood and give them something to listen to. All the while in the booth, she started to get her lists together, and hooked up to the second most important part of her kit - her mixpad. The pad was a collection of identical buttons, with smaller buttons around the edge. It could be programmed to swap between files and tones, and even mix on the fly if she needed to. She didn't in this case, but it allowed her to quickly start, stop, and switch songs at the pastor's cue.

She spend the rest of the hour setting up, repairing some of her cables, and programming her mixpad, until she saw the pastor, a Xatu with his wings dyed black to look more like a traditional human's clergyman's robe, the only one seemingly unchanged from yesterday. She hit her crossfade button, and the music faded into the first procession piece, for the attendants and witnesses, as well as the groom. She watched with awe as the groomsmen and the bridesmaids filed in - it was as diverse a group as she'd ever seen at a wedding - on the bride's side, there was a Pidgeotto, two humans and... what looked like an Alolan Ninetales. It was the first one that Victory had actually seen. She tried not to stare.

The groomsmen consisted of a Sceptile, a Grumpig, and a Flareon next to a human. The groom himself walked in with a familiar Pachirisu on his shoulders, wrapped around his neck like a scarf, almost. As soon as the groom took his position, and his best man sat up on his shoulder, looking out, the pastor gave Victory the signal, and she killed the song, prompting everyone to look around. Then she hit the bridal procession she'd labored over. After a few notes in, she could hear the crowd below reacting to the bride coming in. It was a few minutes before Victory could see the bride herself, being walked out by another human, almost like a pet dog would, if Victory didn't know better.

_ _

A bold choice for maid of honor Victory thought to herself. Not who I would have picked for sure. I hope this works plays out well...

The pastor gave the signal, the music stopped, the congregation was seated, and the ceremony began. It was beautiful. They wrote their own vows, and, while she didn't have a microphone on them, she could catch some of it residually from the pastor's. She decided to use her psychic powers to be a little naughty, jaunting into one of the guest's minds (okay, maybe it was kinda illegal, but it was just to hear the custom vows more clearly! It's not like she was listening in to anyone's thoughts or anything...) It seemed to be a lot of personal stuff - personal moments, shared events, stuff that Victory didn't really understand, but it was very apparent that there was much love and adoration between the couple. The families also seemed to be enjoying the vows, and there were many, many tears.

Victory slipped out of the mind and watched the exchanging of rings. Pachirisu had the groom's ring in a pouch around his neck, while the maid of honor just had it in a pocket. Through a bit of interesting mechanics, Heather held the ring in her teeth and put it on Jeff's finger, before hopping up onto his shoulders, and letting the best mon quickly scamper and put the ring on one of her paws, before they embraced in a hug. It was, admittedly, adorable.

The priest introduced them and bound them in the will of Arceus, before providing them a stone plate, like the ones that held the memory of Arceus, so too would this plate hold the memories of their vows. Another mix of tradition. These two had decided to go full integration. Cameras flashed as they kissed. With another signal from the pastor, Victory snapped back to what she was supposed to be doing. She hit a button on her mixpad, fading into the exit music, before going back to watching the wedding party slowly exiting, pair by pair.

After the procession had ended, Victory quickly snapped up her gear, swiftly moving it downstairs. She wove through the crowd, making her way to her little sound system in the basement. There was precious little time until the party would be down here, and she still had to set everything back up, and partaking of some of her provisions. She was going to be here a while, as the reception hall started to fill...

The feast began. There were toasts, drinks, laughs, stories, dancing and food. A truly grand party to celebrate the union. Victory herself racked up quite a few tips as the night went on, playing request after request from her extensive catalog as some danced. The one she watched with great interest was the first father-daughter dance, the last of her commissioned melodies. She saw the bride take her place in the center of the dance floor, only to be joined by a Nidoking. Victory was caught off-guard - she'd been expecting another Furfrou.

Heather hopped up, putting her paws on the Nidoking's shoulders, and the two began to dance, as best as the quadrupedal pokemon could on her hind legs. It was fairly endearing, watching the big, clumsy nido trying to dance with his off-balance dog daughter. Her new husband stepped in after a little bit, taking her off his hands. The newlyweds danced with much more grace, though it was mostly the human leading. Heather had, apparently, put effort into practicing dancing on her hind legs for this moment.

The party went on though the night, until about midnight, when the last few stragglers followed the couple to the hotel, leaving Victory and the caterers alone to clean up. Her provisions were drained, including her 'medicine'. As the crowd got drunker, she found she needed a bit of a nip to help keep the edge off. But it was over, she'd survived. It was time to pack up and go home.

--

Lights.

Sounds.

Sirens.

Police.

Red and blue lights illuminated the walls and washed the room with a panicked strobing as the warning alarm rang through her head, striking fear and anxiety through her body. She looked down. Her body wasn't her own, it didn't move like hers. She looked down - it was the body of a spider -- a joltik. She scrambled, trying to coordinate her body as it refused to listen, an animalistic urge to run and hide. It wasn't her body. She... released? Letting the small insect scurry to safety as she bounced to a new body. A human. Then another. A Jolteon. Then another... and another... and another... constantly fleeing the red and blue lights as they chased her from body to body, mind to mind as she desperately sought out her own.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of running, she found a familiar focus - the sound of her procession, the nightmarish, distorted tune from the night before, yet this time, almost calling to her. Victory pushed towards it, seeing the familiar metallic glint in the distance, and her burnt orange V resting limp next to it. She jumped back into her own body,quickly pulling the cap off the metallic chalice and draining the contents. It filled her body with warmth and serenity.

A sense of belonging. It brought peace to her, and the lights faded away, dawn seeming to break and allowing her a minute to catch her breath and breathe easily as she faded into restful sleep...

--

Victory awoke the next day at about noon. She did not make her way to the bed. Or even the couch. Today, she woke up on the floor, using her bag as a pillow. After the night she'd had at the wedding, this was not exactly a high point in her life. But it was a good event, and she'd get a pretty hefty paycheck for that, even if she wasn't paid for the setup time, or her extra service with her Victory Star. That was ok. Customer service was important.

Didn't pay the bills though. Or buy food. Or 'medicine'. That's what the money was for. She hoisted herself up off the floor, brushing her fur straight and getting her bearings. She needed a shower. She needed some breakfast. She fished her flask out of the bag. It was empty. She was going to need some medicine sometime soon. Not now, but... soon. It was Sunday, and she had a gig on Tuesday at Dark Pulse. She needed to get a set together. She pulled out her phone, and made herself a to-do list as she made her way to the bathroom and poured herself into the shower.

She hit the play button on her phone, and music started to play out of a speaker hanging in the shower - something upbeat, but not heavy, to energize, but not overwhelm. She used her psychic powers to turn the water on and braced for the sting of water. She was, after all, a fire type.

What she'd forgotten, is that water always came out ice cold first.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. She bolted up into the air, eyes suddenly open and wide as she shivered in a mix of pain and cold, waiting for her shower to reach a more reasonable temperature. When the steam started to rise, she slid back down into it. The water stung, but the temperature was at least amenable. She let the water wash her fur clean as she stood there, brain coming down from the shock of the cold, and still processing what she had to do today. She needed to eat. She needed to work... The sting of the water turned into more of a dull pain as her body was soaked through. She grabbed a shampoo bottle and started to lather up her fur absently, still going over her checklist and listening to her playlist as she rinsed herself clean.

Shower concluded, she stepped out of the shower, fur soaking wet. She lifted herself in the air and closed her eyes, before her body bust into searing flames, covering from ear to foot, flash-steaming her dry. When the fire dissipated, she shook off and landed, picking up her phone and killing the playlist, and heading to the kitchen. She didn't need to take stock, she knew what breakfast was going to be. Although, at this point, most would call it lunch. She opened her phone and sent a quick text. A minute later, she got a response thanking her and informing her that her pizza was on the way. She pulled a can of 'El Tauros' out of the fridge and floated off to her room, ready to stare at her mixing software for another ten hours.

She paused, then went back and grabbed a second can. Just in case.

Today, there was light. She threw open the window and let the sounds of nature inspire her as she got right down to work and didn't waste even a single second of valuable work time catching up on her favorite blogs, checking social media, watching a couple of videos, and hit up her favorite link aggregate... which she only checked for news, of course. And pictures of Lillipups, but, c'mon, who didn't like Lillipups? She was just wrapping up the newest updates of her favorite webcomic when the doorbell alerted her to the arrival of pizza. Fate had knocked on her door, and who was she not to let it in?

Fate, in this case, was a 14' meat lover's pizza. It was usually enough to feed Victory for 3 or 4 days, given her small stature. She took the box in, and headed back to her room, setting the open box on her desk next to her microphone, and cracked an energy drink. It was time to get down to _work..._just after she checked the sales and the DJ forum she was part of. She couldn't just work while she was eating, after all.

After she'd finished her lunch, and put away the leftovers in the fridge, while grabbing another can of 'El Tauros' energy drink, she made her way back to her computer. She was actually going to get to work now. She pulled open her mixing board and started opening her music files when a little window popped up on the bottom of her screen. A old friend of hers was inviting her to a game. She opened the window to respond.

Path4: yo v, u wanna come play?

V4V: nah man, gotta work

Path4: sux bro

V4V: yah

Path4: the event ends 2day tho

V4V: event? what event?

Path4: dude u didnt play the event? Its limited time yo

V4V: oshit

V4V: what do i get

Path4: theres a thing for logging in

Path4: and a thing if u win like, ten matches

Path4: and a special thing if ur in the top 10

Path4: its sweet bro

V4V: i gotta work tho

Path4: last day man

V4V: ...ok i'm in, but not for long.

Path4: sick heres an invite.

Path4 is inviting you to play BattleWatch Fortress: The Brink

And so it went. Victory got her login prize - a new hat for her character. Then she hit up matchmaking to party up with Path4. She only had to win ten games to get her other prize. No way she could compete for top 10. Initially, she tried to avoid using her Victory Star power to give her an unfair advantage, but after losing the first three games consecutively, her moral obligation to fairness started to buckle just a little.

Even with the edge from Victory Star, it was still tough. Match after match, round after round, until she hit round 15, when she clinched her 10th victory, and got her second prize, a new skin. She really should quit, but... she couldn't just quit on a hot streak. Two more rounds later, she lost again, by a narrow margin. Again, she felt she should quit, but... she couldn't just quit on a loss, right? That took another two games until she won and could finally quit.

Alright. No more distractions. This could be my big break. She steeled herself and checked the time. 9:44 PM. Where had the day gone? She took a deep breath and finally opened her mixing board, and started loading tracks, using her now-warm cans of energy drink to stay awake and focused as she mixed and remixed and tuned her songs until dawn. She needed to make a sound that was distinctly her own, to showcase her skills and what she could bring to the table. Heavy songs, light songs, mellow songs, thumping songs. She worked through the night creating a playlist she could be proud of, until the light of dawn cracked through her open window.

Her body needed medicine, and it needed it now. She realized that, having been so engrossed in her work, she hadn't actually noticed it until now. But now she noticed. She noticed and her body was needy, and she couldn't focus on anything else until she tended to it. So back to the kitchen went Victory, rummaging through the cabinets, looking for whatever she could use to quell the angry beast within. It took her a minute, and more than a few threats to burn the entire place to the ground, but she found an old bottle of gin.

She took a healthy swig. It wasn't good. It was old, it was bad, it burned the whole way down, but it hit the right note. It cleaned her mind, putting her mind at ease and lifting the veil. She sighed looking down at it with a grimace, before taking the bottle, a glass and two more cans of 'El Tauros' to the bedroom with her, getting back to the desk and staring at her mixing board again with her nagging feeling temporarily sated. As Victory reviewed the track listing, and checked out her edits, she began to mix the two liquids together in the glass she'd brought, hoping the energy drink would mask the flavor of the awful medicine.

Another hour passed. She checked the clock - 9:23 AM. Even with the copious amounts of energy drink she'd dumped into her body, the medicine was starting to make her a little drowsy. She briefly considered letting Drunk Victory take over the editing, as this sort of thing was closer to her wheelhouse. The implications of waking up another night outside of her bed, however, made her reconsider. She saved her work, proud of what she'd done tuning and tweaking her sound, and getting her set ready, with her mixpad programmed and ready for the show. Slowly, her body ascended into the air, and lazily drifted over to the bed, using her psychic powers to draw the curtain shut. She let out a cozy little sigh and started to drift off.

--

Idiots. Why was she always surrounded by idiots? Her team seemed to be off humping each other or playing hide the bullet while she was out here moving the payload by herself, trying to fend off the enemy team as they bore down on her. With Path4 at the lead, no less. They bore down on her mercilessly, guns, explosives, arrows... everything flying right at her and her alone.

Shrapnel riddled her body and the healing from the payload wasn't really enough to compensate for the incoming firestorm. She felt reality fade away, and darkness consume her... only for her to be returned to her spawn point. Her teammates were standing around idle, unhelpful as she streaked back out to the payload, only to get gunned down again. And again. And again. Only to be returned to her spawn each time. It began to hurt as she felt compelled to try again. To move that payload one more time.

In the spawn, there was a resupply cabinet. It hung slightly open and an alluring glint caught her eye. She grabbed a special bit of resupply from the cabinet, ingesting the contents of the steel canteen, she felt her body become invincible. She blasted out toward the payload, effortlessly tanking the enemy fire as fire shot out of her in a V-shape, forming almost flaming wings as she was consumed by fire, charging them all down in an explosive wave of fire.

Her foes vanquished, she rode the wave of flames, sitting on top of the payload as it rolled its way to victory! The winning music started to play... Repeating... almost blaring?

...Wait...

--

An alarm klaxon woke her up with a start. She fumbled with her phone a bit to answer the incoming call. She almost wished she hadn't.

"Hello, is a miss Olivia Ilex available?" came a voice on the other line

"Who's askin'?" Victory replied with a note of tired irritation

"I need to speak to Olivia Ilex. Is she available?" the voice insisted.

Victory got a call from this jerk about once a week or so, trying to find someone named Olivia Ilex. After telling him countless times that this was Victory's personal cell, and no one but Victory or Victory could be reached here, he still insisted on calling. She'd started to make a game out of it.

"Depends on who's callin'." She replied, deciding to see how far she could push him today.

"I can't tell you. I can only speak to miss Ilex. is she available?" the voice had a growing note of frustration that it was trying to play down.

"Y'know, I'd love to help you, but i can't tell ya if she's here if I don't know who ya are." she replied. "Y'could be one of those stalker-types, given how often ya call."

"I cannot disclose that information with anyone except miss Ilex." the voice insisted again, growing weary. "Please put her on."

And so it went, with Victory leading him around in circles until she got bored and explained for the billionth and one time that, no, whoever miss Ilex is was unreachable at this number. The voice thanked her for her time, in a way that Victory was sure was sarcastic. It'd been a good way to kill twenty or so minutes while she woke up. Better than coffee, almost better than AMPHY energy, which she preferred a little over El Tauros, but the latter was cheaper and a bit more common.

Speaking of energy, she needed some more. Victory lifted herself out of bed and deposited herself in front of her computer. She picked up last night's concoction, which sat in a glass, half-finished in front of her mixer. She eyed it curiously as she checked the time. 8:03 PM. It was after 5, right? She picked it up and tossed it back, letting the mixture of energy and sweet medicine take hold as she tried to reacquaint herself to her position in her work.

Everything looked mostly done, some tweaking to do here, some balancing to do there... all in all, not a lot of work, but enough to keep her busy as she drained the last of the refreshments she'd left on her desk the night before as she began to fine-tune the mixing, adding a bit heavier base, or raising the midtones, or just fixing overall balance in some custom mixed tracks, trying to keep her mind on the work.

Her focus was interrupted by an unfortunate realization around midnight. The worst had come to pass. Her desk no longer contained an energy drink to smooth out the medicine. That was going to need fixing right now, not only because she needed it to finish working, but because she was _absolutely_going to need it tomorrow, given she was about to be up all night again. She was booked for an overnight gig at Dark Pulse, at least. Better to keep the schedule going this way, with that in mind. She made her way to the kitchen, only to find more woe - she was completely out. No more of that familiar Tauros in her fridge.

The unthinkable was upon her. It was time to go to the gas station -- the only place one could really get energy drinks this late at night. She stepped out into the night, her body lighting up with fire to guide her way as she headed out to the local Gastly-N-Go, streaking through the air like a purposeful comet.

She arrived at the gas station after a short flight. It wasn't far to get to, but a path she knew only too well at this point. As she entered the station, a weary looking navy blue Meowstic behind the counter eyed the small Victini cautiously at first.

"Hey Sal." Victory said with a wave.

"I've told you a hundred times now, Val, my name ain't Sal. It's Dominick." The Meowstic said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but ya know who I am 'cuz'a it." She shot back with a grin.

Dominick rolled his eyes. "Now that ain't true and you know it. What're you here fer tonight, Val?"

"Man, I'm straight fresh out of canned energy." She said, with an air of fake lament.

"The way you go through that shit, I'm surprised you're not an electric type. Shit's gotta keep you wired as hell." Dominick raised an eyebrow. "You bought a case of the stuff just last week."

"It was a week and a half, and hey, I got a stressful job. Need to be awake for it, not like you!" She said playfully making her way over to the coolers to grab a few drinks.

"Jeez, you caught me napping once and you're never gonna let me live it down, are you?" Dominick sighed, rolling his eyes as Victory came back with a few AMPHY energy drinks in tow.

"Not on your life, Sal." She replied with a laugh. "How's the wife?"

Dominick sighed and shook his head, ringing up the energy drinks, a grin across his face. "Aw, c'mon, I know he can be a bit of a bitch sometimes, but you know I love him."

"Alright, alright, sorry for pickin' on ya so much tonight, you're always a big help Dom, and always fun to chat with." She held up her phone, tapping it against the card reader. "Hey, give my best to Dan when you see him, yeah?"

"I'll tell him you stopped by. I'm sure he's gonna ask if you stole shit again." Dominick chuckled.

Victory laughed back. "Hey, you can't prove I did anything. He really needs to loosen up. Maybe you should let him chase you for a while - just don't let him catch you."

Dominick handed her the bag of energy. "Look, just 'cuz he's a Herdier and I'm a Meowstic... " He stopped mid-thought. "...Then again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad for him to catch me sometime."

"I love you guys." She smiled, producing a bundle of small bills, and handing it over to Dominick. "Hey, buy 'im something nice fer me, ok?" she said, turning to leave.

"I will, but I'm not saying it's from you." He teased with a wave.

"Pfft, you wouldn't. Yer too honest for that. 'S why I like ya." She said, warmly smiling back at him "See ya next time Dom!"

And with that, she flew back to her apartment, laughing a bit to herself. She liked Dan and Dom. They were a cute couple, and had been one of Victory's first customers. As well they should have, what with Dom being one of her oldest friends. For as much as they insulted each other, she honestly didn't know what she'd do without him some days.

She arrived back at her apartment and slipped back inside. It was near quarter to one, and she had the fuel to finish the work. Hell, maybe she didn't even need her medicine this time. She plopped back at her desk, threw her headphones on, turned up the volume and got back to work, a cold can of power cracked on her desk.

--

Victory woke with a case of waffle face again as she lifted her head from the keyboard and looked at the time as she tried to wake up.

Her gig was at 6 PM.

She was going to be late. To the most important gig show she'd booked in some time... well, to be fair, it had booked her, but those were the sorts of semantics that she didn't have time for. Fortunately, her bag was mostly ready from the last show. She burned down the music as she started throwing things in her bag, letting the computer do its processing as she gathered the things for this kind of show. After getting her gear together, she floated in the air, incinerated herself, then quickly rubbed some deodorant on herself.

It wasn't a perfect bath. Or a bath at all. But it would do for now. She cracked another drink from the night before, and threw the last two cans and a bottle of water into the bag just as the computer dinged - the processing was done. She bundled the last of her equipment, computer, playlist and mixpad into her bag, before running outside and taking off, flying as fast as she could... until she remembered she didn't know where she needed to go. She pulled out her phone and typed "Dark Pulse Club" Into GoGoat Maps.

It did not know of a Dark Pulse. She nearly screamed in frustration. What had that Nikki woman said? Club Petier... no, Crib Platter? No... Craft Planter? A few minutes of searching later, and she found the right one - Cafe Plaisir. Her ETA was about 30 minutes. 5:20. She would be cutting it much, much closer than she was comfortable with, especially without an assistant. She swore loudly as she sped off like a rocket toward the Cafe, leaving a blazing streak behind her.

She may have cooked a few Pidgeys on her way, as she streaked through the sky, leaving a long, blazing tail toward Plaisir. 18 minutes later, she arrived, panting gently. She grabbed a drink from her backpack and downed it. It burned. Energy drinks were not meant to be slammed. The drink sat heavy in her stomach for a bit, feeling like it was corroding her organs, or demanding that it immediately be removed from her body.

Victory winced as she rode out the pain, making a mental note to never do that again, before filing it away with a bunch of identical mental notes saying the same thing. After collecting herself she stepped inside, plastering herself with bravado and confidence. She was, after all, Victory.

The vaporeon at the door gave her directions to Dark Pulse, informing her that it wasn't open quite yet. She insisted she was there to work for the night. The vaporeon asked why he'd never seen her before. Victory didn't have time for 20 questions. She had a sound check to do.

She sped away from the vaporeon, zipping through the halls as fast as she could to get set up. There was scarcely time to appreciate the atmosphere as she zipped through the halls, finding her way to Dark Pulse, until she almost crashed through the club's doors. It was actually rather lovely. The size and scope of the place was almost enough to stop her in her tracks.

Almost.

She swooped up to the DJ booth and quickly dropped her pack, producing the table from the backing and setting it up with her psychic powers as she looked over the sound set she had to work with, begging to Arceus that it was better than the church's as she eyed up.

What she saw was enough to make her believe in miracles.

The sound system was beautiful. Had a dock for her laptop to directly mount in, lightboard, mixer, even an amplifier. It was beautiful, and was going to cut her set up time significantly. She docked the computer, letting it boot up as she went through her provisions for the show.

? Two bottles of water

? One can of AMPHY energy drink

? Three granola bars

? Assorted cables

? Solder coils

? Rainbow gradient small hoop earrings

? Cream and burnt orange bandanna, with a solar pattern

? Trusty Flask

? ....wait,

This last item had to be a mistake as she produced it. A small, blue, bullet vibrator. Must've been in my bandanna... She thought to herself, using her psychic powers to put the earrings halfway up one side of her large, V-shaped ears, and tying the bandana around the other, hanging loose off it. The shutter shades rested on her forehead for now as she looked for someone to help her with the sound test -- time was short and she didn't have time to do all the flying around to ensure it was done right before the show started...

As her luck would have it, someone did come through the door. Purple, lithe, catlike, and looking around, she saw the perfect candidate - literally anyone. He looked like an Espeon, and given the way he was looking around a place that wasn't exactly open, she figured he probably worked here. She decided to get his attention.

Hey, kitten, up here. Can ya gimme a hand iffen' yer not too busy slackin' off down there. I need to do a sound test and I can't be here and there at once. She said telepathically, implanting the thoughts in his head.

The Espeon seemed to blush at being called 'kitten'. "Sounds good to me," he said once he was over the surprise and embarrassment, his tail twitching softly and his gem flickering slightly, before adding "I don't have much else better to do at the moment! I'm Vara. What do I need to do?"

Hey Vara, I'm Victory, but you can just call me Victory. So i'mma play some test tracks, and I want ya to tell me if it sounds alright. Y'know, gotta make sure the gain and balance is good, make sure the snare is right. The acoustics are messed up in the box. Hard to get a sense of what it's like on the floor._She pointed her fingergun down at him, winked and dropped the "hammer" a little puff of flame spiraling out of her finger as she did so. _Just use your psychic abilities to talk to me while we're testing this so I don't have to strain to hear you over the system.

Vara nodded. Sounds good! He shot back, taking position in the center of the dance floor and looking up at the Victini.

So, what do you want to be blasted with today? She asked, testing the lights - making them come up, go down, flash, strobe, and everything in between. Looked like she had full control of the lights from here... And the board would give her power over sound, as soon as the check was done.

No real preference. Came the Espeon's reply. Don't like the crazy-repetitive mainstream dubstep, but aside from that, just go for it.

Folks without real preference were a mixed blessing. On the one hand, they were usually good to drop anything on. The bad side was that sometimes she found that no real preference sometimes meant they didn't have a lot of musical experience. She hoped it was the former as she queued up a good test track . A'ight, I'ma start with something bass heavy. Nothin' gets the crowd hoppin' like bass. She turned a couple knobs and fussed with some sliders before tapping a few buttons on her mixpad. When she did, the music started, light, not overly painful, kind of upbeat, not really using the bass yet, though a drop was obviously building in the background. This is a pretty good song to use for audio checks - covers your highs, lows, bass and vocal tones... At least after the drop. She shot to him as she watched the equalizer bars.

Kinda sounds like a little bit of the midrange is getting truncated he commented, eyes locking on one of the speakers, maybe to show her which side needed work? Try running the equalizer up a bit around the... I think it's the 125hz range? 250 maybe? Don't remember, it's been a while. I think the subwoofer's eating it instead of getting through to the main speakers because it's too quiet. His ears twitched intently - he was definitely the former, she thought. Good song, though.

Thanks! 250's getting in the higher range, so... she made the required adjustments. But I can mess with it too if you think it needs work. Dials turned and bars moved, adjusting the E.Q. balance in the booth and listening to the tone. I don't like relyin' on the tweeters so much, they kinna suck for midtones, get kinna tinny. Let me know if you hear tin. Never enough balance, y'know? Hey, get ready for the drop btw.

_ _

_ _ The Espeon prowled the dance floor's edge, listening to the sounds at all points around the floor and relaying his notes back up to her, allowing her to make the required changes. Even with the warning though, the drop seemed to catch him off guard as he jumped about a foot in the air with the heavy bass flooding through Dark Pulse' speakers. His only note from that was it's a bit loud.

It's necessary when this place gets full. She explained. Come on back tonight and see fer yerself... hey, before you head outta here, stop up by the booth - i got somethin' i wanna give ya as thanks fer helpin' out. She asked, getting the rest of her set ready. 5:49. 10 minutes to showtime, and what a show she was going to give! She spent the last few minutes getting relaxed and loose as Vara came into the booth.

I don't need compensation, I'm just happy to help. Vara said, entering the booth, before realizing he didn't need to speak telepathically anymore, and blushing slightly. "Er, sorry. But... yeah! You're welcome for the help, ultimately, and I'd love to come back tonight."

"Y'may not want it, but I'mma give it to ya anyway, fer bein' an essential help." She tapped her head to his, right against his gem as her body began to glow with a sparking gold light, which crossed over to him and suffused his body with a similar glow. It seemed to freak him out just a little bit. She withdrew and the light faded, all except a golden star around his gem, glowing faintly with the glittering gold of her Victory Star.

"Wh... what was that?" He asked, cautiously.

"That's my Victory Star~! s'better than a backstage pass. Not only will it get you up here durin' showtime if ya wanna join me in the booth, but you'll have great luck and success the rest'a the day, no matter what'cha do. Anything ya put yer mind to." She said, beaming with pride as she explained. "Hell, it might even help you get lucky yourself tonight..."

"Well... thank you!" He said, scrunching his nose a bit at the sensation. He certainly seemed more confident and cocksure than he had coming into the booth. If she had more time, she would have asked for his help unwinding, but they both had jobs to get back to, what with her show starting in about... 5 minutes?!

Vara turned to leave. "So... you say this'll help me get lucky, right? You wouldn't happen to know who could help me with that, would you? I mean... the floor is so empty right now." His voice was playful, almost flirty.

If only I had more time... she thought to herself. It had been a while since she'd gotten any action, and here was a perfectly good male who seemed interested, worked at a brothel, and was, admittedly, attractive. She'd made worse decisions under the influence, and she was, for the most part, sober. It seemed like a good idea to take him up on the offer. First things first, though. Instead, she said "Yeah, and we're both on the clock. Though, I like to leave a little time before the show to unwind a bit, but I was runnin' late today. Ya could always come back durin' the show though... Never know what'll happen if ya play yer cards right. Otherwise I'm sure ya could find someone out there - any chick you could want with that star on yer head... or dudes, if that's what yer into. Ain't nothin' to me." She shrugged and started queueing up her list, ready for the show to start.

The Espeon was blushing behind her as she set up, still seeming hesitant to go. "I... am very much into that, but... you're cute and I definitely wouldn't mind helping you unwind... Maybe I will have to come back and see you during the show, if you don't mind..."

"No diff to me. But if ya come back durin' the show, I'm happy t'give everyone in the crowd one hellva show. Really please the management." She said ominously. "The star should get ya back up here." Vara turned to leave before she added. "See ya soon, Kitten." It made sense at the time - it's a brothel, maybe they'd appreciate that kind of a show...

--

The bass began to thump and pound as she called out to the crowd. "Good evening Dark Pulse! Victory here to get yer night turnt up!" She called to the crowd. "So let's make some noise out there!" The crowd did, and the music began to pump, something a little slow at start, while the crowd filed in, as the tempo worked up to the familiar dance party beat. Victory had a pair of studio earphones pressed against her bandanna'd ear, keeping track of the music without the din of the audience interfering as she started to blend songs and balance the tones, waiting for a particular visitor to enter her booth. The management had provided an Infernape as security, keeping an eye on the door for her to make sure no undesirables came up to mess with the booth.

A familiar presence was felt in the crowd - it seemed that Vara had decided to come back to try his hand. While she waited for him to come up, she started making some adjustments to her playlist, pumping up the bass and filling the crowd with the overwhelming thump of clubstep. She switched to an automated playlist set she'd worked up earlier, giving her a little free time... Normally, it'd be used to step away, for bathroom or something - not a thing to leave unattended for too long ever, just to be on the safe side. But she did want to make sure she was free for what she was planning to do next, when that purple kitten made it up to her booth, still adorned by that star on his head.

_Hello?_He asked, the thump of the bass seeming to throw him off a little, and using his telepathy to talk instead of trying to shout over the volume, but he seemed to relax being in the booth instead of the mercy of her dubstomp.

Kitten!_She called back spinning to meet him as she hopped off the mixing board and crossed over to him, obscuring her from the crowd below. Not that many were paying attention to the victini in the booth anyway. _I wasn't sure you'd make it! Glad that ya did though! So, I take it you want to help me put on a show? She grinned, nodding back to the mixing board_. I gotta stay in view of the customers, and that means we'll be in plain view of everyone. If yer alright with that, I've got somethin' ready that's I think yer gonna like..._ She needed some help unwinding, and what better place than here?

Some of the customers down on the edges of the floor seemed to have the same idea. It was probably ok, she figured.

Uhm, I... guess? Sure..! He responded, blushing a little more furiously. She figured he'd no longer be able to blame it on the lighting. He glanced out over the board at the crowd, and seemed to grow nervous, even with her Victory Star adorning him.

It's not like a lot of folks will be watchin' anyway. She snickered, floating up to the mixing board. I should have this covered with my psychic abilities, if I need to do anything. She swapped out her studio ears for some buds, running one line into her ear as she spread her legs invitingly. So come on up kitten. Get into the rhythm.

_ _

Isee... he tele-murmured back to her as he padded his way forward to follow Victory to the mixing board, hesitating just behind the spread-out Victini. His eyes were caught on her rather excited sex... before trailing back up to her face. He rose up over her on the mixing board, front paws placing on the back of it for balance, while the underside of his throbbing, growing shaft pressed up against those lips. She saw it was already looking fairly ready to go, twitching and aching for use. Are you sure I'm not gonna hurt you with it? The length of it is almost half as tall as your body when I'm fully hard...

Ah, so that was what was holding him back. She admitted, it was a bit forward - she barely knew him, and here she was at a show, ready to get unwound by some Espeon dick, and he was worried about her safety. It was cute, in a way. But not the way that was going to help her. It'd been over a week since she'd gotten a chance to really unwind, and she wasn't going to let a little thing like physics stop her now. Maybe he needed a little more encouragement.

Ya know, we're both Psychic types, yeh? We can make anythin' fit when we put our minds to it. She grinned, took a short breath, and used her Psychic powers to start fading into a different song, this one starting slow and quiet as she drew him forward. Time for a surprise. She produced the small bullet vibrator from her lower lips - she'd inserted during her relaxation time, getting ready just in case she had a visitor during the show. It zipped around the Espeon before her, gently resting itself against his back ring, beckoning him forth.

You know, I've practiced this before. Yer in for somethin' special. As soon as he'd draped himself over her the music started to raise in intensity. The intensity seemed to climb as that bullet pushed its way against Vara's backside. The slickened surface slipped in with general ease, to the slow climb of the song. As the small vibrator finished finding its way into Vara's ring, nestling itself deep with a soft buzz as she turned it on, cramming up against his innermost sensitive area. The song simultaneously hit a completely quiet beat. She opened her mic channel allowing the whole dance floor to hear whatever sound Vara made in response to that... and watched for his reaction.

It was an interesting one. The Espeon's face turned a bright scarlet as she forced her toy into him. He was still hesitating, and Victory wasn't about to have any of that. The mic picked up his sound - a sharp, needy cry rang out from his throat in time with the silent beat. It drew the attention of the crowd, who could see the DJ's head, laying in the booth with the purple Espeon perched over her. Some snickered, some gasped, some just shrugged and went to dancing, and some kept watching. Victory smiled up at him, looking into his blushing, victimized expression as it looked back down at her. It was clear to her, though, he no longer needed further encouragement.

The vibrator encouraged a buck forward, pushing his shaft into Victory. She bit her lip and closed the mic channel, before letting out a soft moan. Her body began to spread, accommodating his length, but only so far. There was a limit to how far she could take him in, even with her psychic powers forcing her to relax around his length. That happened to be just shy of her deepest most area. Try as he might to get a good rut going on her, the shortness of her sex was making things problematic as he tried again and again to find more space to sink into. His speed increased to the beat, but even their psychic powers couldn't magically make more space, and he was quickly capped.

As nice as the rut was for her, she could see that he was having some trouble. With more of the crowd starting to watch, she realized she needed another approach. Their bodies rocked in time with the heavy beat blasting through the club, letting the sound control them both as they rocked and fucked to the overwhelming music. As much as she wanted to give the audience a show, it was hard with her particular physical limitation. At least he seemed to be getting into it, his expression of hurt changing to one of pleasure as he half-fucked the Victini beneath him, even if he kept trying to buck entirely too far in. Even psychically, she couldn't stop all the pain if he kept this up, especially if he were to break through her inner wall.

It was time for a new approach. She started the crossfade, and started pressing a new button on her pad as the song filtered in - when she'd opened her microphone channel to catch his cry, she'd saved it as a sample to her mixpad, allowing her to throw in quiet Espeon moans into the beat. Nothing really that loud, but definitely there. She snickered quietly to herself between moans - she felt more clever than she probably should have as she waited for him to notice her addition to the beat. She watched his expression, as his pleasured grunting started to taper off, ears catching something in the music. He slowed to a stop, and realization dawned on his face. There was a drip of their leaking pleasure as it registered what was new, and it made him blush so furiously, Victory was worried he'd get a nosebleed from the intensity of blood rushing to his face.

His ears flattened against his head as he looked down at her, growling slightly. She couldn't help but laugh at it, letting it devolve into snickers and moans as the Espeon starting getting back into the beat of the rut. His confidence seemed to settle over him like a blanket as his grin grew a little wry, a particularly long rut drawing him out of her body. Before she had a second to question it, his intentions were made very known as his point leveled itself a little lower and found its way into Victory's backside. His psychic energy moved to her rear as well, forcing her to relax and accept it, keeping some psychic stimulation on her lips to keep her pleasure ramping up in tune with the song.

"What do you think?" He asked, easing himself as deep into her backside as would allow. She could feel his knot pressed up against her backside - it was almost as big as her hips were. No way it was going to fit. "Should I go for another Victory Star today?"

His precum was already overflowing from her lips, and was already starting to help her back end with a healthy coat of arousal as he came to a hesitant pause, his mouth close to her clinking earrings. She could feel his breath on her neck, and his hips gave a threatening, urgent press against her backside. She could take more back there with his psychic assistance, but that might be a bit too much for her, even with help... She took a deep breath and looked at him with a grin, showing off her fang with a glint from the flashing club lights - for as confident as he sounded, his body belied his true feelings. His ears were splayed back and twitching. Even his teeth nipping softly at her neck seemed to be laced with hesitation. She realized - this confidence was from her Victory Star.

For some reason, that made her feel more confident too. "If ya think you can handle the beat, be my guest." She shot back, before letting out a gasp as the fangs bit softly into the side of her neck. Her ears twitched - she could hear the audience below through the one ear not connected to the sound system. Some were growing concerned from the display and the biting - she was, after all, the performer.

"Careful, kitten." She cooed, forcing the bullet harder into his prostate. He gasped, releasing her. "We don't want security to come and remove you, right? Not that I mind being down here... " She turned up the vibrator to the max setting, letting the song fade out and letting his cry ring out over the club again, this time laced with the arousal and need he'd been working up in her. The crowd turned to look again, this time, some were grinning and pointing, before she spun up the next song, something _heavy_and full of bass, urging him forward. "You don't want to worry the fans now, do you?" She let out a soft moan, as if punctuating her thought.

It seemed to work. He bit at her more gently, and acted a bit more showy about it, getting back into a more heavy rut, as if drawn forth by her musical ministration. She began to mix more of his moans into the underlying bass, feeling the buzzing vibrator in his backside rattle through his shaft and into her smaller frame. His length twitched in her tellingly. He was nearing the brink - and, admittedly, she was too. The thump of the beat around them with his heavy rut, even if it wasn't on her preferred hole, the length and girth of the Espeon, plus his Psychic attentions on her clit... it was working for her in a big way. Especially with the crowd below.

She felt the song grow with the intensity of their activity, feeling the knot press intently against her backside - physics and biology alike be damned, he seemed intent to get it in her! Her body clenched around him, milking his shaft as it pushed needfully into her depths. She flailed slightly at a hard press, causing the song to scratch a bit. She instinctively pushed a few buttons on her pad, which pushed a few other scratch and beat sounds into the track, before the song continued. She twitched her ear, seeing if anyone noticed the error - it didn't sound like it. From what she could hear through the beat, it sounded intentional. Or at least, somewhat intentional. She let out a soft sigh, as she bled a new song in with crossfade into the underlying track. Crisis averted, and not a second too soon...

The song reached a pregnant note before, everything seemed to stop. The beat, Vara, Victory... even the club seemed to come to a freeze for that frame before the bass dropped hard. His knot pressed up against her backside, but she was just too tight - it wasn't going to happen. Instead, he pressed hard against her backside, and unloaded his seed deep into her ass, with heavy, urgent throbs, Victory held on as long as she could, but feeling the need and heat in her backend, with the psychic attentions and vibration, proved to be too much, even for her, and her world was rocked by climax, just in time for the bass to drop, filling the club with gloriously heavy beat, masking her pleasured cries as she rode their combined waves of pleasure.

She stuck a finger up, shooting a small ball of energy out above the club, a large, gold, glittering star outlined with fire hung above the club, before shimmering and exploding, shards of flaming luck snowing down onto the crowd below, filling everyone present with a sense of confidence and her own burning passions through her Victory Star as the two writhed in their combined climax at the controls.

Slowly, the climax subsided, Vara panting heavily as he looked at her with a lopsided grin - he may have been full of her confidence, but he was still spent. Slowly, he withdrew himself and the realization of what he'd just done seemed to come over him. He blushed furiously, as Victory laughed. She pushed herself up, before taking to the air again, doing her best to keep the mess inside her -- didn't want to damage the equipment now. She had a show to get back to, now that she was properly unwound...

Thanks, Vara. You've been a big help tonight. She thought to him, before switching off her automated playlist and taking full control of the club again. Now that her itch had been lifted, she felt far more in control. Especially since the crowd seemed to be taking her boon to heart and expressing their love a little more openly below, courtesy of the sweet beat of Fucking Victory, Ft. Varalen. It was time to make some more noise, and she knew just the track to do it as Vara excused himself from the booth, probably to hide in shame and embarrassment forever. He did, however, stop before wandering off to offer a brief You're welcome. That worked for her, she had a show to put on.

--

The show had gone well, even with her somewhat unexpected interlude - admittedly, one she had ended up arranging - from the Espeon. It, however, like all things, needed to end eventually. For her, that happened to be shortly before dawn. She was very glad she'd had the foresight to bring energy drinks and snacks. Still, she met up with the Scrafty for her payment. Nikki commented that, while her show was good, to make sure her personal needs are dealt with _before_any future shows. But she seemed inclined to let it slide, and implied there would be more shows in the future, and that was all Victory needed as she gathered her equipment and made her way to the door.

The flight home was enjoyable - she got to watch the sunrise, painting the inky black world with the glorious oranges and reds of dawn and the new day it heralded. She landed at her apartment and unlocked the door, casually dropping her equipment to the side as she locked the door behind her. She reached into her bag and found a familiar friend - her metal flask. It was heavy in her hand, still full of her medicine. A provision she found she hadn't needed in the heat of her show, the thump of the club, the roar of the crowd... the thrill of it all. She hadn't needed it.

But she wasn't there now. She slowly took off her accessories and placed them into her bag, before taking her flask to the bedroom. She drug herself into the bed, and started at the metal canteen, giving it a tentative shake. She reached to unscrew the lid, and hesitated. She sat there for a minute in her bed, hand on the cap of her flask, staring at it. She knew she needed it. She knew she wanted it. It would help her sleep. She knew it would... but she was already tired, and still on the high from the night, from her show. It... didn't feel right. The sensation was strange to her. She put the flask on her desk, but couldn't break her eyes from it. This didn't feel right either. Her body seemed to have an internal conflict between her elation from her successful show and her need of the medicinal salve of her flask.

After almost a half-hour of internal conflict, willing the flask to give her an easy answer, she finally let out a heavy sigh and grabbed the flask, popping the top and taking a healthy swig. It burned. More than usual. It hit her heavily and, for the first time in a long time, she felt a twinge of regret as she screwed the cap back on her flask and putting it on her desk. Her body felt better having the searing medicine in her, but her soul seemed to be chiding her for weakness in taking it. She sighed, curling up in her bed, setting an alarm on her phone. She'd deal with it later, when she woke up. The morality and conflicting emotions she was feeling was too much for her to deal with right now. She pulled her blankets up to her neck closed her eyes, letting sleep consume her, so she could relive the show, and the pleasure that came with it.

It was just easier that way.

--

The next day, Victory awoke in her bed. It was a welcome change to how she'd found herself the past few days, from playing a wedding to doing a show at a brothel's night club. It was definitely a disparity. She pushed her tiny frame up from the bed and looked around. The colors of her room seemed washed out. Not enough medicine, clearly. She reached for her flask, but her fumbling, tired hands knocked it over with a metallic klak against the wood of her desk. She frowned, as more of the feelings of the night before returned to her. Complicated feelings. Feelings she wasn't prepared to deal with.

She left the flask where it was for now and stumbled her way out of bed to the bathroom, turned the water as hot as it would go, and threw herself into the tub, letting her mind race. Or, crawl, as it were. She had enjoyed the wedding - she loved doing that kind of freelance work whenever it came up, but there was so much competition it was hard to find consistent work doing that. So, maybe she could find more consistent work at a place like Dark Pulse - the staff had been helpful, one Espeon in particular had been more than generous, and the atmosphere more closely jived with how she was when she was... well, in her element. The water, while a good temperature, stung fiercely against her body, dragging Victory's mind out of sleep and helping it process things a bit faster.

Ultimately, she needed regular work. She didn't know if that meant making an arrangement at Craft Planter or whatever and taking extra work on the side, or if the intermittent gigs from her freelance professional work would be enough. She'd gotten enough from both recent shows that she had a little time to think, but the options weighed heavily on her mind. She found that, at times like these, she wished she had another musician to talk to, to work her options over, to help line up her thoughts, convoluted as they sometimes were. For now, it was just the sting of the water sizzling against her keeping her awake and aware, letting her mind wander as she weighed her options fruitlessly in her mind until the water started to get cold and _really_started to hurt.

She pulled herself out of the tub and incinerated herself to quickly steam-dry, before returning to her computer. Cans cluttered her workspace, and Victory quickly cleared them into a pile off the side of her desk, before putting her head face down against the wood, letting out a low grown. Her head hurt. Maybe she'd head out there again tomorrow or the next day, sometime in the near future, see if she couldn't get some more work, or at least some advice.

Her hand wrapped around the familiar shape of her flask and she drained the remainder. There wasn't that much, but it helped fix some of the scramble in her head. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would go and try to take control of her future, and find more stable employment to help with her totally not serious energy drink love. Yeah, that was a good plan.

Tomorrow.