faraway planets bring promise of hope

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If two days ago, someone had told Charlie he'd be living with a rag-tag group of businessmen on a rescue mission to save a furry from a mob of angry magic people, he would've laughed, or maybe made a joke about it – "You need to paws for a second" – or maybe he'd give them a worried smile and change the subject.

Funny how things change.

He ponders over these fickle things as he takes apart yet another security camera, fiddling with the screws until he gets it just right, toying with the metal until it melds into place. Then he slots everything back together and places it carefully onto the ever-growing pile to begin on the next. 

Every time he finishes one, he greets it, hears it whirr and click, and then there's a choice of three reactions: the furious "what did you just do to me?!", the dazed "what.. happened...", and of course the pleased "thank you so much! My parts haven't felt this good since 1970!"

If anything, the last response made him feel more worry than the others. What sort of cruel being neglects their technology like that? More often than not, he takes them apart once more to make sure everything is perfect.

Sometimes, when he walks in the city, he sees people on their phones. It's always too tempting not to – he mutters under his breath, and the phones begin to talk. They're constantly muttering about how dirty they are, or how their human only uses the same three apps over and over. Sometimes it's funny, other times it's a bit sad.

Well, getting off-topic, now. He only has one more to fix, then he's good to go. 

In front of him, the television blares – some sort of kids cartoon is playing, but he doesn't really recognise it. Some kind of blue cat and his orange sibling getting into trouble. He isn't really concentrating, but it's something to fill the background, and he kind of likes the voice of the cat, anyway. The orange one's voice took him by surprise, but he shouldn't judge.

Footsteps approach, and he sort of lifts his head, glancing out of the corner of his eye. In his peripheral vision, he spots hooves and feathers, and then Schlatt comes into focus.

"Charlie, are you watching this?" He asks, gesturing to the screen. When Charlie shrugs, he goes to take the remote and begins to search for something. It takes less than a second for the infamous drone of a news reporter to kick in, and by then Charlie's out of his seat.

"No fucking way," he says, snatching the remote out of Schlatt's hand. He shakes it at him warningly. "You are out of control."

Schlatt stares at him in disbelief for a moment, a half smile, half grimace on his face. "How do you make so many puns? Don't you run out of material?"

"Not yet, I haven't," Charlie shoots him a grin as he switches back to the cartoon. He gestures with his free hand towards the security cameras when he asks, "What do you need them for? Techno just dumped them on the desk and told me to fix them up, on your orders. Where did he even get them?"

"I'm setting them up all over the place. It might lead us to our, uh, rival's base. Then we go in, grab Travis, and get the fuck out." He pauses to think over the last question, rubbing his chin. "He might've stolen them, I don't know. He's kind of intimidating, actually."

"He could kick my ass in a second," Charlie agrees, sinking back down onto his chair. He examines his last piece of tech, then grabs a screwdriver. "These are in really shit condition, though. He couldn't have gotten them better?"

Schlatt shrugs, sliding onto the seat beside him. "I probably should've made it clearer," he admits. He watches Charlie for a moment, then turns back to the TV. "Is this The Amazing World of Gumball?"

Charlie bites back a grin. "Probably, I've never seen it before."

The orange cat speaks, and Schlatt yells. "That is not Darwin's voice, what the fuck? What is this?" He grabs the remote control and views the channel. "How did you get onto YouTube?!"

"I didn't– oh, you fucker." He points his screwdriver at the TV. "You better stop that, or I'll shut you off."

The TV makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort. "I'm helping you out," it says, "I'm giving you clues."

"How are you giving clues? It's a cartoon–" Charlie cuts himself off at Schlatt's bewildered expression. "It's talking to me," he explains, just as Connor runs in, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"I heard him! I heard– oh. How did you..?" He trails off, squinting at the television. "That was his voice. How did you find it?"

"Whose voice?" Schlatt asks, becoming increasingly confused. "What's going on? Are you losing your minds?" His eyes flick from Charlie to Connor, accusatory and a bit unhinged. "Is there some sort of sickness going around? Should I keep six feet away from you guys?"

"No, no," Connor shakes his head. "That was the voice of, you know. The guy who threatened us."

"And it was on the TV?" Charlie asks for Schlatt, who appears to be in a state of What The FuckTM. When Connor nods, Charlie fishes around in his pocket for his phone and pulls up YouTube. The words type themselves into the search bar, plus a winky face which erases itself soon after. 

He taps of the first video that pops up, which appears to be an Amazing World of Gumball parody. The description doesn't offer much, but a quick glance at Connor confirms that it's the same person. Scrolling down, he finds the top comment:

"Did anyone else find out that Carson is a filthy magic-doer?"

There's 3.5k likes and about a hundred replies. Many of the comments below are similar.

Something heavy and sick settles in the pit of his stomach.

Thank god he deleted his channel the moment he discovered his powers. If these comments were about him he'd –

He'd –

"Hey," Connor's voice is soft and gentle. "You found his name, right?"

Charlie swallows, rubbing his eyes, and he plasters on a smile. His voice wobbles only a little when he speaks. "Yeah. Carson." He switches to Google and begins typing. There's a short silence, then –

"Last seen only about an hour's flight away for you, Schlatt."

"So we have a lead," Schlatt says, finding his tongue at last. There's a fierce determination in his eyes. "We can track them down right now."

"They're dangerous," Connor reminds him, "Ty and I would've died if Travis didn't help us."

"Then we'll be careful," Schlatt says. "You were taken by surprise. We won't be."

Connor sighs, and Charlie knows he's torn between their own safety and wanting to rescue Travis. "Just.. be careful, okay? Don't die, that's all I ask." 

"That bar's very low, Connor." Schlatt gives him a toothy smile but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Go tell Ty to get ready. It might cheer him up. Charlie, go find Technoblade. He'll probably be in the training room. Just don't sneak up on him, he might accidentally impale you. Think you're up to it?"

Charlie blinks. "I'll have a stab at it."

Schlatt huffs out a laugh, and it's the first, most genuine laugh Charlie has heard from him. "I don't think I'm sharp enough for this," he says, and Charlie can't stop his grin.

Maybe living with a rag-tag group of businessmen isn't so bad. 

If only his hard, hard work on those security cameras hadn't gone to waste, this would be perfect.

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