Chapter 10: Operation Beige
The raiding of the closets commenced with the organized chaos of a military looting operation. Tisha directed traffic from the center of the hallway, assigning wardrobes based on body mass index and available fabric stretch.
"Cipher, give Kael your largest hoodie," Tisha commanded, holding up a pair of Luca's flannel shirts. "Luca, you are the control group. Just... be you. The 'Hot Neighbor' aesthetic works because it implies gainful employment without specific responsibilities."
Luca winked, leaning against the doorframe in a fitted Henley that showed off just enough bicep to be neighborly. "I'm basically a camouflage expert."
"Lorenzo," Tisha turned to the Lieutenant. "Keep the suit. Lose the tie. Roll the sleeves. We are going for 'Harried Father of Three Who Just Wants to Buy Milk.' It triggers a sympathy response in the general populace."
Lorenzo sighed, unbuttoning his collar. "I am a financial strategist, Tisha. I do not look 'harried.' I look efficient."
"You look like a sexy dad," Luca offered helpfully.
Lorenzo paused. He checked his reflection in the hallway mirror. He rolled his sleeves up another inch.
"Acceptable."
The door to Cipher's apartment opened. Kael stepped out.
The mountain of a man still wore his black pea coat. Underneath it, however, strained a neon-green hoodie that read: I VOID WARRANTIES.
"The garment provides thermal insulation," Kael grunted, tugging at the hem, which barely covered his tactical belt. "But the text... is it a threat?"
"It's a pun," Cipher explained, bouncing out behind him in a pair of borrowed khakis that were two inches too short. "It means you break things. It fits your brand."
"I do not break things," Kael argued, adjusting his coat collar. "I dismantle threats."
"And finally," Tisha turned to her own apartment door. "The Boss."
Dante emerged.
He wore a pair of Luca's distressed jeans and a plain grey sweatshirt. He had pulled a baseball cap low over his eyes to hide his silver-streaked hair. He looked tragic. He looked like a celebrity trying to buy coffee without being photographed by TMZ.
And yet, the aura remained. He stood in the hallway with the posture of a Roman Emperor wearing H&M. "I feel..." Dante picked at the fabric of the sweatshirt. "Beige. I feel beige."
"That is the objective," Tisha said, grabbing her purse. "You are blending in. You are a background character. Now, move out. We need food, and my refrigerator contains only condiments and despair."
They descended the stairs in a phalanx formation. Tisha took point, flanked by Dante and Luca, with Kael watching the rear and Cipher and Lorenzo covering the center.
They reached the lobby just as Mrs. Higgins, a woman of indeterminate age who usually communicated solely through broom-taps on her ceiling, stepped in with a walker. She wore a floral housecoat and looked ready for war. She stopped. She looked at the six of them.
"Tisha," Mrs. Higgins rasped, her eyes narrowing behind thick glasses. "You have... guests."
Tisha cleared her throat and tried to smile. "Mrs. Higgins! Yes. These are my... cousins. From... the Old Country."
"Italy?" Mrs. Higgins asked, eyeing Dante.
Dante stepped forward. He removed his baseball cap. He bowed low, taking Mrs. Higgins's wrinkled hand in his own.
"Signora," Dante purred, his voice dropping to a velvety baritone that usually preceded a marriage proposal. "Your presence graces this lobby like a rose blooming in winter. The fluorescent lights pale in comparison to your elegance."
Mrs. Higgins stared at him. She blinked.
Then, she reached into the pocket of her housecoat and pulled out a strawberry hard candy.
"You look thin," she said, pressing the candy into Dante's palm. "Eat this. And tell your mother to feed you more lasagna."
Dante looked at the candy. He looked genuinely touched. "I will treasure it," Dante whispered.
"He's a good boy," Mrs. Higgins announced to Tisha. "Keep him." She shuffled past them toward the mailboxes.
"Target neutralized," Kael whispered.
"She just gave him candy," Tisha muttered, pushing the glass door open. "He charmed a senior citizen. Is there no demographic safe from this genre?"
They exited the building onto the sunny pavement of the apartment complex.
"Formation," Dante commanded quietly.
They fell into line. Six abreast. Walking in perfect synchronization.
It happened instinctively. They walked with the slow-motion swagger of a movie trailer. Dante in the center, adjusting his cap. Kael scanning the horizon. Lorenzo checking his watch. Luca grinning at a passing jogger. Cipher typing on his phone. Tisha trying to keep up in her boots.
A wind picked up from nowhere, blowing leaves across their path and tossing Dante's hair perfectly.
"Stop," Tisha hissed, breaking step. "Stop walking like that."
The line faltered. "Like what?" Luca asked.
"You are walking in slow motion," Tisha pointed out, gesturing at their formation. "We are going to brunch, not a climactic showdown. This formation is aerodynamically inefficient and draws unnecessary attention. People are staring."
"They stare because we are beautiful," Dante corrected, putting his sunglasses on.
"They stare because Kael is wearing a pea coat over a neon hoodie in sixty-degree weather," Tisha countered. "Just… Walk like normal people. Slouch a little."
Thirty minutes later, they sat in a booth at a generic burger joint. The table was a landscape of grease and wrappers, though Lorenzo had managed to fold his neatly into a square.
"The sodium content in this meal exceeds the daily recommended allowance by two hundred percent," Tisha observed, picking at a fry. "And the 'cheese' product has a melting point higher than plastic."
"It is delicious," Cipher mumbled around a mouthful of nuggets. "It tastes like freedom."
Lorenzo held up the receipt, his face pale. "Forty dollars. For pulverized meat discs. We could have purchased raw ingredients for a week's worth of risotto for this amount."
"Finish your disc, Lorenzo," Dante commanded. He held his burger with two hands, inspecting it. "It is... spongy. But the sauce possesses a complex acidity."
Kael sat by the window, staring at the drive-thru speaker. "The clown mascot," he rumbled. "It watches us. Its smile never changes."
"It's fiberglass, Kael," Tisha sighed. "Focus on the fries."
"We have an update on the housing situation," Luca said, wiping ketchup off his lip. "Kael and I made some calls. The safe houses are burned. Nero's people are watching the docks and the warehouse district."
"We found a short-term rental in the suburbs," Kael added. "But it won't be available for 72 hours because it was already booked. I suggested we just intimidate them into leaving."
Tisha just ignored the last part to avoid giving another lecture on the definition of 'normal.' But she did comment, "So we are stuck in the studio for three more days."
Lorenzo groaned, putting his head in his hands. "Three days. My back cannot support three days on an inflatable mattress."
"Then we need supplies," Tisha said as she stood. "If we are going to survive a siege in my apartment building, we need real food. To the grocery store."
The Super-Mart was a fluorescent nightmare of choices.
Lorenzo took control of the cart immediately. He wielded it like a chariot. "We are on a strict austerity budget," Lorenzo announced, turning into the cereal aisle. He grabbed a generic white box labeled OAT CIRCLES. "These are mathematically identical to [silence] but cost two dollars less."
"They probably taste like cardboard dust," Cipher argued, reaching for Chocolate Sugar Bombs.
Lorenzo slapped his hand away. "Denied. The sugar crash will compromise your coding efficiency."
In the produce section, Dante held a melon. He lifted it to the light. He squeezed it. He smelled it. "This fruit lacks passion," Dante declared loudly. "It is firm, yet yields nothing. It has no soul."
"It's a cantaloupe, Dante," Tisha whispered, looking around to see if anyone was filming them. "Please stop seducing the produce. Just put it in the cart."
"I demand fresh basil," Dante insisted, marching toward the herbs. "If I am to dine in your toy kitchen, I require proper aromatics."
Meanwhile, Kael had vanished.
Tisha found him in the cleaning supplies aisle. He was reading the back of a bleach bottle with intense concentration.
"Kael," Tisha asked. "What are you doing?"
"Chemical warfare," Kael grunted. "This sodium hypochlorite concentration is sufficient for sanitization... and improvised perimeter defense."
"We are waging war or resolving bodies, Kael," Tisha whispered, taking the bottle. "No traps. Put the ammonia back. Mixing them creates chloramine gas, and I refuse to die in a cloud of mustard gas because you wanted to secure the toilet."
She herded them all back to the checkout line.
Lorenzo argued with the cashier about a coupon that expired in 2018.
Luca flirted with the bagger.
Cipher tried to pay with cryptocurrency.
Dante signed autographs for the manager, who seemed convinced he was a famous soap opera star in disguise.
Tisha leaned against the magazine rack, watching the circus.
"Three days," she whispered to herself. "I just have to survive three days without them burning down the building or rewriting reality."
She looked at the checkout screen. The total was climbing.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A notification from the game app.
[Daily Quest Updated]
[Objective: Family Dinner.]
[Reward: +10 Bonding. +1 Chaos.]
Tisha looked at the "Plus One Chaos" reward.
"I think," Tisha muttered, watching Kael stare down the automatic doors, "we are already maxed out on chaos."
[Chapter 10 Complete]
[Inventory Added: Generic Oats. Bleach. Strawberry Hard Candy.]
[Status: The Harem is Domesticated (Barely).]