Chapter Text
“How do I help?”
Mary Ann knows she isn't the most socially adept, and that's not a source of shame for her. She knows she's good at fighting, and having a skill set like hers is great.
But sometimes she wants to be a part of the plan in a bigger way. She knows they talk behind her back, and the rest of the Rat Grinders have formed alliances in what is meant to be a fortified front against The Bad Kids. They're failing. Everyone can feel it, even naive Buddy.
Ivy tilts her head and says, “With the deception? No offense, Mar, but you're not really into that part of the plan, are you?”
Mary Ann thinks for a moment. She has a lot of ideas, and even if they don't trust her for the execution, she has an offer they can't refuse.
“The Bad Kids want me to join them.”
There's a confusing reaction from the group, maybe disbelief or laughter, but it's all out in one breath and then met with a thick silence.
Kipperlilly first chimes in, “Why do they like you and not any of the rest of us? How can we trust that it's not just a trick?”
Mary Ann doesn't have an answer to that. She knows it's not all of them, the group’s barbarian seems vehemently against his party’s favoritism towards her, maybe because of her dominating him at Bloodrush. She is still proud, despite not showing it.
“Would it hurt to try? I wouldn't reveal anything about us, you know I'd die if I did. That seems airtight to me.”
Mary Ann fidgets with the charm bracelet her Quokki Pet is attached to.
“I mean, okay.”, Ruben sighs, and his tiredness is even more apparent. They've been having almost constant sleepovers, and nearly every night Ruben wakes up panicking. They still can't figure out why his dreams are so much weirder now, and he won't describe them in detail unless he's interrogated.
They have a vote, and no one cares enough to make a case against her Super Secret Special Assignment.
She will start tomorrow.
Mary Ann hasn't been to the lunchroom in a while. She doesn't even wait to wave to the man who restocks the vending machine.
Her sandwiches don't need to be packed for her, which her grandma detests.
“How will you eat then, sweetie?”, her Nana inquires in their Kobold Creole Draconic.
Nana.
Her chest hurts.
Looking at a lunch table on the other side of the room, Mary Ann locks her focus onto a foot-long sandwich. Nothing else.
Except for one cluster of the most heroic adventures of her time.
The Bad Kids.
They aren't sat normally, not one of them.
The tiefling bard is lying on her stomach, taking up an insane amount of the table. Her hands are cupping her face and her feet are idly kicking back and forth. Mary Ann would have loved to be friends with her. She seems kind. And goofy. She feels a twinge in a deep recess of her mind. Stop. Stop.
Fabian, one who she can't stop hearing about on her Crystal, the half-elf, isn't sitting at all, he's giving some speech to the party, standing in front of the table. He makes grand gestures with his arms, with no care for anyone who may be within the area of effect of his battle sheet.
The girl with orange hair. Mary Ann knows it's not “orange”, but it is. It's a pretty color, though. A cleric, just like her.
Don't say the name, it'll sting, Ann.
Kristen looks much stronger than before. She seems tired, too, though. How can they be tired? How can any of them struggle when they're perfect? It's not fair. Something sinister claws at her throat. She coughs.
That wizard. The elven oracle. She’s disheveled but in a perfect way. Oisin talked about her in freshman year. He was so hopeful back then. Ouch.
A beautiful elven girl.
Beautiful, but so exhausted, Mary Ann can tell. She's seen those eyes on Ivy. Ice blue instead of hazelnut brown, but the lines and purple under them are the same.
The goblin. The tiniest of them all, but still almost a foot taller than her. Shit. It's times like these when she remembers, that despite her strength, she’s quite small. Great.
He's engaged in conversation with his friends, but very obviously, his black pupils dart around his yellow eyes. Protective, but almost eerily calm. She flashes back to Kipperlilly.
Those same eyes. But now they're always marked by something else, a sheen of unrest.
Last in the group, and by far the largest, is the half-orc. His arm is around about three of his party members, and she can tell by his stance that he is ready to leap into action should anyone mess with his friends.
Mary Ann is slightly scared of him.
But there is admiration as well. He stands his ground, emotionally and physically.
She's only been able to do one of those.
His arms are big. So big. Wait.
What does that have to do with anything?
A loud buzz in her ear startles her to look up at the source of the noise. Nothing.
Everyone starts walking out of the lunch room.
That was the bell?
She just stared.
Maybe she isn't cut out for the sneaky jobs after all.
This routine continues for weeks. Whenever she reports back to the Rat Grinders, she shares the bits of info she gains from listening to their extremely entertaining conversations.
She gives up because she knows she can't infiltrate the Bad Kids’ ranks. The plan is in motion, anyway. More information isn't needed. They have what they have and they'll have to deal with it.