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cophene · 10 months

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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐓 | vento aureo; nine v2.

☆ ⁺ « THE BRICK PHONE

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pairing : vento aureo x gn reader summary : with virtually nothing left in their credit account, a gang of space thieves turn to the richest man in the galaxy to give them a job worth millions. too bad those never come easy, even with stand abilities and a pretty-faced crew. notes : sci fi au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 3.1k+

[ PLEASE PROVIDE YOUR FIRST AND LAST NAME. ]

"Jerick Glass."

[ APOLOGIES, BUT THAT NAME IS NOT INCLUDED IN BANQUET INVITES. PLEASE REPEAT CLEARLY. ]

"Jerick. Glass."

[ APOLOGIES, BUT THAT NAME IS NOT INCLUDED IN BANQUET INVITES. PLEASE REPEAT CLEARLY. ]

Mista huffed in annoyance. "Did Coco do us dirty or something? What's going on? Jerick. Glass."

The little bot blinked regretfully and repeated its message. Mista blinked at it, looking ready to punt its squat body like a football.

"It might have something to do with the fact that you're saying the damn name wrong," Fugo grumbled. He elbowed Mista out of the way and spoke crisply to the bot. "Jerick Cage. Philip Glass. Ahren Irani."

[ NAMES CONFIRMED. PLEASE PRESENT INVITE CODES. ]

You, Mista, and Fugo presented the false invites Coco had whipped up on your holopads. The bot nodded at each one, its display turning green.

[ WELCOME TO THE PARTY. PLEASE HAVE A GOOD TIME. ]

You stepped onto the gangway of the ship with no small amount of relief. The stares the rest of the line had been giving you had made your neck prickle. Hopefully people would assume Mista had gotten a little too drunk to say his name properly. Half the people here were already slightly buzzed.

Trish had told you this ship was practically an exact replica of the age-old Titanic. A part of you thought that had to tempting fate somehow, no matter how cocky Zero was. The gorgeous, old-timey ship was juxtaposed against the wacky and bizarre outfits everyone had decided to pull out for the occasion. Trish hadn't been kidding when she'd said you all fit in. You looked downright plain compared to the rest of the crowd. One guy was wearing an honest-to-Stars model Eva on his head, which said everything you needed to know about the kind of people here tonight.

It wasn't hard to follow the stream of people into the ship and then across polished wooden floors, immaculate upholstery and wallpaper and tasteful accent pieces to get to the main banquet hall. It was like stepping into a photograph from two centuries ago. Rather than the gaudy electronic music you'd expected, a live band played slow swing and jazz. It was brandy and jazz and flappers and cigars muddled into one room, the farthest away you could get from the shitstorm of the present. Disregarding the clothing and holopads and service bots, of course.

Zero had outdone himself, you would give him that.

"So where would Zero be in all of this?" Mista asked beside you. He caught a flute of champagne from a passing bot and took a swig.

"We can't approach him right away," Fugo said. "Trish and Narancia need time to get the phone. And he'll be onto us if we seem too desperate."

Mista groaned. "We have to mingle?"

"It is a party."

[ THERE ARE SOME INTERESTING PEOPLE AT THIS PARTY, IF YOU CARE TO LOOK. ] Coco piped up suddenly through your earpieces.

"Thought you died on us. How are things looking on your end?" Mista asked.

[ I'LL LET YOU KNOW IF THERE'S ANYTHING TO WORRY ABOUT. ]

Mista looked less than pleased to be dismissed by the turtle.

Fugo brushed your sleeve. "Look over there," he murmured from the corner of his mouth. You followed his gaze, your attention snagging on a head of silver-white hair.

"Looks like Ris and his boys are here too," you said. It didn't take long for you to notice a man with long lavender hair beside him, and the various other distinguishable hairstyles of Risotto's crew. Risotto's crew and yours were on . . . amicable terms. You'd heard recently that Risotto had shifted the objectives of his crew from theft to more mercenary work. Assassin work, if you were privy to those kinds of rumours. With Risotto and his boys being as ruthless as they were, it wasn't too hard to imagine. It freed up the market for Passione and they'd always played too rough for your liking.

"Think Zero's going to have them kill someone?" Mista wondered idly.

[ CERTAINLY. YOU'RE AT THE TOP OF THE LIST. ]

"Say what?"

Coco let Mista flounder for a solid ten seconds before chirping, [ JUST KIDDING! ]

"I want to see if I can find Zero," Fugo said, peeling away from your group. "I'll be right back." He glared meaningfully at Mista. "Try not to embarrass yourself."

"Excuse you, Zipper Vest."

With a frown, Fugo's slicked-back blonde hair disappeared into the crowd. You silently wished him good luck.

"Cap, you see who I'm seeing?" Mista jutted his chin towards the entrance of the banquet hall. You thought it might be another thieving crew before catching sight of a white ponytail. Asswipe was here?

"Is he off-duty or something?" you said. "GA's are strictly prohibited from arresting anyone on the Hub. At least not on Zero's watch."

Abbacchio didn't seem like he was actively searching for anyone. He wasn't wearing his GA uniform and had arrived with a young woman on his arm. You narrowed your eyes in his direction. You wouldn't put it past him to try and melt into the partygoers to nab your ass.

"We'll just keep away," Mista said. He slung an arm over your shoulder and led you away from Asswipe. As the banquet wore on and you forced yourself to chat pleasantly with people, you wanted desperately to find Zero already. You wanted to disregard decorum and see if the bastard would give you a job. Fugo still hadn't returned, and you could only guess that he was still scoping out for Zero with Coco Jumbo's help to find the prime time to approach him. By your estimate, Narancia and Trish had to be close to the brick phone by now. When you'd searched up how much it was fetching, the number credits had made you positively giddy. It wouldn't be bad at all if you were only able to sell the phone after tonight.

The slow swing that had been playing melted into an airy waltz. You smirked behind your champagne glass, amused, as couples in semi-transparent skirts, towering hair spirals and rustly suits began pairing off to dance. As serving bots wove around them, it was almost like they were dancing to the music too.

You downed the last of your champagne. "Care to dance?" you asked Mista.

"I was waiting for you to ask, Captain." Mista accepted your hand, allowing you to pull him closer to the music. It seemed like second nature when your hand settled on his shoulder and his hand drifted to your waist. A stupid smile twisted his lips as the two of you swayed to the music.

"We're like an old married couple."

"An old couple dressed like idiots."

"You look wonderful, Captain."

You exhaled a laugh. For a few moments, the swirl of colour and the sweet notes made you forget where you were, what you were meant to do.

"What are you going to tell Zero when we meet him?"

"The truth."

"Think that'll be enough?"

"It's all we've got," you said, looking into Mista's face. "Plus, I don't think he takes kindly to liars."

"It's not too late to back out. We could always try fencing that Nokia."

"That won't last forever. More than anything, I'm hoping getting a job from Zero will boost us up to where we used to be." You considered telling Mista the alternative that had kept you from sleeping last night, the ultimatum that you'd posed for yourself. Before you could though, a ripple of activity swept across the dance floor, and everyone was switching partners..

"Ah, I thought I recognized that face. The holoscreens don't do you justice."

It hadn't been the first time you'd been recognized tonight. It was nice knowing your crew still held some renown even after a few years underwater. You were ready to dismiss the admirer, having already spent all of your charm, when you took in the dark-blonde hair and chilling blue eyes. Nails trailed down your spine.

"Your Highness." What was an imperial royal doing at Zero's banquet? They had to be some of Zero's biggest enemies, right behind the GA's. Stars, this wasn't some undercover mission to arrest the man was it? It would be just your luck.

Elaborate lemon-tinted Roman designs crawled across Prince Donatello Versus' dark suit jacket and pants. Olive leaves arched from the central face of a god at his chest, the design echoed on each of his pant legs. A flowing leather coat draped over his shoulders and a medallion with the Imperial Family's crest hung over the hollow of his throat on a red cord.

"Relax. I'm not going to arrest you. As much as I'd like to." Prince Donatello grinned wolfishly. His eyes were like pale stones. His entire aura was cold and domineering. He had a grudge against everyone and everything, you remembered reading somewhere. What was he doing here? What did he want with you?

"I used to be obsessed with all of your escapades," the prince said. "I always wondered how it was fair that you could get away with such audacious thefts when I could barely leave without having my hairstyle scorned. I don't find it very fair, do you?"

You wished the two of you weren't standing so close. You had no idea what to say to this man. Drawing the ire of the Imperial Family was something even you didn't want to do.

"Everyone has different standards," you hedged. "You of all people would be held to the highest ones."

"And why is that? Who decides who has to follow those standards? Why does the public have to hold me to those standards? Why does my family?" Donatello's grip tightened painfully on your hand. You hid a wince.

"I wouldn't know the answer, Your Highness."

"I suppose I'm obsessed with your crew because I want to be there when you finally fall. I want to see you get the punishment you deserve. I hold no greater grudge than against those who don't deal with the consequences." Your stomach twisted as the prince led you in a spin.

"What do you want from us?"

"My father was right to take the heir title from me. Now that my brother is dead, there's nothing keeping me from seeing the downfall of the galaxy." Donatello brought his face close to yours. His breath was unpleasantly hot against your cheek. "The downfall of your crew would be a good place to start, wouldn't you say?"

"What do we have to do with the galaxy?"

"Everything. Nothing. All in between."

You couldn't take it anymore. You wrenched your hand from Donatello's and stepped back from him. He stared at you blankly.

"I look forward to your downfall. Very much."

You strode away from Donatello, your stomach squirming. This was the heir to the galaxy? You wanted to believe he was drunk, but if he hadn't been . . .

No. He's drunk. He's just a stupid royal with lofty ideas and a grudge against criminals. Upper Space nobles had always been crazy. You'd be hard-pressed to find any one of them that didn't harbour a grudge against space thieves.

You stumbled away from the dance floor. Where were Mista and Fugo? This party was starting to grate on your nerves. You were only now becoming aware of the whispers swirling in the air and the hostile glares thrown at your back. People were beginning to recognize who you were. It was only a matter of the time until someone remembered they had a bone to pick with your crew and things turned nasty.

You spoke lowly to your earpiece, "Coco, do you know what Donatello Versus would be doing at this banquet?"

[ HE'S SCOPING THINGS OUT. ] The computer replied. [ HE WAS VERY INTRIGUED BY THE LATE CROWN PRINCE'S ENDEAVOURS TO END ALL SUBSTANCE ABUSE. I CAN'T SAY HE HAS THE SAME NOBLE INTENTIONS, BUT A PART OF HIM WANTS TO SEE WHAT ALL THE FUSS IS ABOUT. HAS HE GONE ON HIS 'GRUDGE AGAINST THE GALAXY' TIRADE YET? ]

"Does he really mean all of that?"

[ WHO CAN SAY? BUT HE'S NOT A PRINCE OF THE PEOPLE, THAT'S FOR SURE. ]

"Captain, is everything alright?"

A wave of relief washed over you at the sight of your engineer. "Thank flack you're back. How'd your scoping go? Did you find . . ." you trailed off at the sight of a girl a step behind Fugo. Her severe features were paired with angled dark hair and long braids that trailed down her shoulders. An eight-pointed star burst across one of her eyes. You couldn't tell if the design was makeup or more of a scar. A flowing shawl covered the skin that her black brassiere and underpants didn't. The dark green of her hair and eyes reminded you of drinks people ordered at holobars, tangy and straight acid going down your throat.

"Sheila E.," the girl said in a husky voice before you could ask. She grinned crookedly. "Your friend told me you wanted to meet with the big man Zero, hm? I can take you to him if you weren't bullshitting."

It was only when you shifted that you made out the elector Sheila pressed surreptitiously against Fugo's back. He exchanged a glance with you, his violet eyes sharply alert.

Zero had sent someone to you? How had he known?

"We're just missing someone from our group," you said carefully. "If we could find him first, I'll—"

Sheila slipped two fingers into her mouth and let out a shrill whistle. All noise and activity in the banquet hall stopped as everyone turned to look at Sheila.

"If your name is . . ." she paused, thinking. "Jerick Cage, get your ass over here. The big man doesn't like wasting time." The particular emphasis she put on Mista's fake name seemed to indicate she knew just how fake it was. You didn't even know how to react to that implication. Did she know your name and Fugo's as well?

A sheepish-looking Mista made his way through the crowd, stopping beside you and Sheila. His hat was askew, and the collar of his shirt was suspiciously rumpled. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes since you'd switched partners. What the flack had Mista gotten himself into?

Sheila shoved the Elector into Fugo's back, leading him out of the banquet hall and into the winding hallways of the mock-Titanic. You were barely two steps outside when the murmuring started. You might as well have shot up a flare gun reading, WE'RE GOING TO ZERO, FLACKBAGS! You'd wanted to keep this meeting with Zero lowkey. Now everyone at the banquet knew you were going to him.

You could tell Sheila was leading you on a purposefully confusing route. She wound the three of you through the kitchens, then to the upper deck before down to the pool and smoking rooms. Everywhere you went, bots puttered around doing odd jobs. You'd think Zero was planning to launch this ship through the ocean or something. If Sheila noticed the illicit activities that were taking place in the dark corners of the ship, she didn't show it. She hummed an unsettling little melody under breath the entire time, seeming almost bored with the whole thing.

Eventually, she stopped you all in front of a heavy oak door. Your head had gotten so thoroughly muddled that you weren't sure what level of the ship you were even on.

"Earpieces, please," she sing-songed. The three of you reluctantly handed over Coco's earpieces, severing your connection with the turtle.

"Electors, knives and any other weapons that may cause bodily harm."

Your visible Electors were handed over. Sheila did not pat you down or search you, and so the Stand cards you had hidden away stayed with you. For now.

The door opened inwards, sweeping out heady, spicy air. It was dimly lit, and it took your eyes a second to adjust. Bizarrely coloured and designed seats were strewn about, lemon-mint chaises, pomegranate loveseats, pillows and cushions thrown on top that looked like delectable hard candies. Colourful lamps hung above, bathing the room in blues and reds and oranges. When you tried following the patterns of the rainbow carpets on the ground, you could only go so far before becoming hopelessly lost. The room gave off the vibe of a child's playroom. Warm and close and deceivingly juvenile.

"Have one," Sheila said, waving an arm at a tray of brightly-coloured toffees on the glass table. You gingerly perched on the turquoise chair beside it, while Mista and Fugo took the chaise.

"Where's Zero?" Fugo asked. He must have inhaled too hard because he burst out coughing.

"He'll be with you shortly." Sheila set about fluffing up some of the cushions and dusting invisible lint from the candy-coloured couches. You didn't like being here. You'd been expecting a grand office or maybe an austere sitting room. You spotted a diffuser in the corner, the bottle a lurid orange colour. It must have been responsible for this spicy scent hanging in the air. You brought your sleeve up to your nose, trying to take shallower breaths.

"You sure you don't want one?" Sheila brought up the platter of toffees again. Fugo opened his mouth to decline, but not before Sheila pushed one into his mouth. In the same motion, she pinched his nose until he was forced to swallow.

"Delicious, right?"

"What the hell was that?" Fugo rasped.

Sheila turned to you and Mista, tilting her head. "Are you two going to take one, or I'm going to have to feed you?"

You took a toffee. It tasted like a block of wood.

"Mind your manners talking to Zero," Sheila said, leaving the room. "He has standards, you know." The moment the door closed behind her, the room started undulating like it was underwater.

"Holy flack, what did we just swallow?" Mista groaned.

You held your head, trying to get a grip. The garish room and heady air weren't helping things. You felt like your brain was sloshing around inside your skull.

If only you could contact Trish and Narancia somehow. You were beginning to suspect Zero wasn't coming to this room at all and Sheila had just drugged you all for her own fun. Or maybe she'd teamed up with Prince Donatello to have a go at you all.

"I hope you enjoyed the toffee, Captain. Imported from Adrastea. They're an acquired taste, but an experience nonetheless."

The voice was like liquid tar floating through the room. You weren't sure if it was a man moving from the back of the room or a shadow. Had he been there the entire time?

"Zzzeeeroooo?" Mista slurred.

"Unfortunately so. I'm aware you could go without the drugging, but we can't begin the meeting when half your crew isn't here, now can we?" Huh. Where was his accent? You couldn't tell if he was Upper or Lower Space.

You leaned your head back on your seat, aware that black was bleeding into the corners of your vision.

"In fact, they should be here any moment."

This man must have been Zero. You could vaguely make out a twinkling green jewel amid all of the black. For all your supposed subtlety, he had been expecting you all.

You had to close your eyes. It felt like lead weights were pulling them down. In the murky darkness, you heard something being dragged into the room, groans of pain and hissed swears.

"Welcome," Zero said. "I was wondering when you'd get there. My apologies for the rough handling. But you did steal one of my most valuable items."

Opening your eyes just a slit, you took in a flash of pink hair and a messy, dark head. You would've said something, but the darkness pulled you back.

"It wouldn't be presumptuous to assume you have the gold-dragon phone, would it?" Zero asked.

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#kismetva #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #golden wind #golden wind x reader #vento aureo #vento aureo x reader #gender neutral reader #sci fi au

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