Broken Valor: The Only Planet in the Sky was Saturn, Looming High and Aching with Hunger Pangs.

Guard duty. One of the most boring states of being in the history of the world, Carmine thought. Perhaps it was only slightly better than book sorting, but at least book sorting didn't involve long-winded lectures by his partner for the day. Glorious Valor, a squeaky-clean pegasus with an otherworldly regal air about him. Everything about him said "I know better than you," from the booming way his voice carried his virtues, to his color scheme reminiscent of a paladin's armor. Valor's pristine white coat reflected the shimmering of the plating, while those flowing golden-orange locks that shone like the sun was neatly pulled back in a small ponytail beneath the helmet's plating. His bangs, that normally flowed silky and free were tactically pulled back by a hair tie beneath his helmet so no vision was obscured. Valor's speech continued, chastising Carmine for a scuffle he got into on the previous night. As always, Valor had to be the one to bail him out, but that didn't stop the other guy from getting a good whallop on the red stallion's freshly-shaved face. "You can't keep getting into fights while you're off duty, Carmine. You're a guard, you represent the Princesses while you wear that armor!" "I *do* represent the Princesses! I represent their... anger. Or their desire to throw hooves. Tell me Celestia doesn’t wanna punt someone through a window every now and again," Carmine quipped back with a wink and a laugh. He felt pretty proud of his comeback, but Valor's piercing blue eyes shot a clean hole through Carmine's soul. The disappointment behind those orbs were unfathomable. Valor's partner, on the other hand, was the direct antithesis to everything about him. Carmine was a scrapper, a troublemaker who only sought to find the next face to punch. Unlike Valor's shiny plates, Carmine's armor was rife with scratches and dents-- and to think, they got their armor at the exact same time. With a sigh, Valor lowered his head. "I'm just worried about you, is all. You've been acting stranger than usual lately." "How so? I like to fight. It's what I do. If I recall, you recruited me because I tried to pick a fight with you." "And I stopped you from committing a felony by assaulting a soon-to-be guard." "See, that's you choosing to remember things differently. I remember wanting to ugly you up a little; bring you down to my level. After that, I was gonna ask what your favorite song was! Now we're just the best of friends. See how it all works out in the end?" The pegasus couldn't help but snort. His anger was still very much present, but he couldn't stay mad when his partner pulled off that charm. "Yes, Stockholm Syndrome will do that to you.” They had arrived well at their destination. A large, three story mansion on Glimmer Street. Earlier they had received a call from the lady of the house, an earthen mare named Amelie Miser, about her maid stealing some precious object. The lady opened the door, a towel wrapped around her head. Droplets of water fell off her drip-drying fur. She must've just gotten out of the bath. "Oh, thank the stars that you two are here! That-- that vile wretch... years of giving her a home, feeding her, keeping her clothed and this is how she repays me!? I ought to make it so her next destination's the gallows with how furious I am!" Valor looked at the mare with visible shock. Not much caught him off guard, but her bold startup managed to skip the record in his head. "U-Uh, ma'am, I don’t think that's necessary. Stealing is indeed a crime, but I don’t think it warrants death... in fact, I can’t even come up of an example where we did use the death penalty...” Carmine quickly jumped in, hoping to defuse the mare with a quick deflection, then jump right into the meat of it. “No, ma’am, we opt for less crueler punishments such as turning the offender to stone for millennia or banishin’ kin to orbitin’ satellites! At this rate, your maid'll probably just get buried underneath a large boulder-- alive, of course. Now, Mrs. Miser, do you think you can catch my partner and I up to speed? We don’t even know what it is she stole... how can you be sure it was her?" "I found it in her damn room, that's how I know!" Amelie called back with a stomp of her hoof. There was fury in her eyes. Whatever was stolen from her, it clearly tore at her heartstrings. She quickly gave in with a sigh, allowing the anger to leave momentarily. "It's my husband's family heirloom. A large, decorative shield from his great grandfather, who fought with it in the griffon wars. I noticed it was missing this morning, so I searched everywhere for it. Eventually, I thought to look in her room and I found it. Hidden in her wardrobe." Valor nodded. "I understand. We'll take a look around. In the mean time, can you find the maid and your husband and tell them that we'd like to ask them a few questions?" Miser shook her head. Apparently her cigarette wand had been left behind by some small table near the front entrance, because her head ducked behind the stained-glass door and when she pulled back she held the smoking wand in her mouth. "My husband's on a business trip. He's been in Yakyakistan since the other night, it's only been I and Feather Duster. The maid. The THIEF. She’s in her room, as I instructed her to remain.” Venom followed her final statement and her frustration channeled with a flick of a lighter. She stepped aside and let them in, but Carmine... didn't look too convinced. Soon as they were through the doorway, he scooted close to the shining pegasus and whispered in a low tone. "Val, that’s weird. She realizes somethin' precious has been stolen, and her first instinct's to search the house? Anyone'd think a thief came and was long gone." “That’s for the investigators to decide, Carmine. We’re here to make an arrest, nothing more.” Carmine blinked, then looked down. "Uh... I-- I dunno. Yeah. You’re right. It don't matter. Let's just get this over with." The door slammed shut with a hefty push, echoing throughout the chamber. From the very first instant, both the guards could see the dust-free outline where a large shield once hung above a mantle. A really, really tall mantle. Carmine let out a low whistle— this whole damn house was tall! The earth pony was no good at guesstimating height, but if he had to... maybe about twenty-five feet from the floor to the heirloom’s mark? Feather Duster had to have been a unicorn or a pegasus to nab this without alerting anyone. Someone like Carmine would need a... chair. Huh. He gave a glance at the surrounding furniture... all iron-cast. Bit of a bold choice. Why do rich folks always have such awful taste? His eyes wandered to a large gash on the tile, like something hard had scraped against it. Valor, meanwhile, turned to Amelie once more. “Mrs. Miser, where’s the heirl—” “Hey!” called Carmine, “Does Feather Duster wax? If she does, she did an awful job. Maybe shoulda let her go waaaay before all this happened.” Amelie cleared her throat, “I— She— We threw a party here about a week or so ago. One of my husband’s idiot friends dragged a table across... he said he’d send us a professional to clear it up.” I didn’t ask what happened, mentally scoffed Gumshoe. That was just... weird. Her eyes were flickering almost, like the dim light of thought was desperately trying to churn out something that settled this uncomfortable feeling buried underneath. The mare was a bold-faced liar. But about what? Valor continued after a heavy roll of his eyes. “Ignore my partner. Where were we? Oh, yes. The heirloom. Ma’am, where is it again?” “When I found it in her room, I left it there just as it was. You’ll find it in her closet. She’s in there, too, no doubt praying for a few more moments of freedom.” “Thank you. Stay right here. The investigators will be here shortly, so, be prepared to answer the door once more. We’ll be back.” As a sign of reassurance, he shot her one of his trademark smiles. The world could be cracking at the seams and yet that smile could still be a sign of comfort. Amelie left the scene, now focused on drying out her wet mane with the towel she had situated upon it. Valor spoke up, “Carmine, we’re—” but his presence was gone. He turned around, his eyes scanning for the detective, but no sign. “Carmine?” He called once more. Valor growled, “Where the hell are you?” ———Meanwhile——— While Valor was off spewing his protocol to the screeching harpy, Carmine was doing real work. The floor was shining a golden, glimmery trail down the nearby hall, away from the scratch. There were two rooms at the end of the hall and the trail ended in the space between the doors. Odd. He glanced down at the door to the right, where little bits of the sticky glitter resumed. The left door was notably absent of glitter, yet the carpet in front looked freshly cleaned. So, into the right he went. The room was neat, cleaned, with a bare-bones furnishing that only carried the bare necessities: a wardrobe, bed, vanity and an open door that lead to a bathroom. Not the type that one would expect a rich lady to live in... this must be the maid’s. His suspicions were confirmed by the mare herself: a dust-white unicorn with raven gray hair all kept up in a nice French bun. Patches of her fur was covered in dust and some mess, as was her outfit. Seems someone just finished cleaning. “Here to arrest me?” She asked while taking a drag from a lit cigarette. “Thinkin’ about it. Saw a little bit of glitter on the ground that lead me straight here. Seemed like something of a trail of bread crumbs.” “That hideous *thing* you're looking for is in the wardrobe." The glowing stick gestured toward the cracked-door closet, sat to the left of the entry. Hideous? Not what one might expect from a supposed thief. With a quirked brow, the guard would creep toward the cracked wardrobe and delicately opened the door. What spilled out was... Ew. A large shield, as promised, fell from the hastily stuffed wardrobe, and right onto the floor. It was loosely wrapped in some stallion’s dress shirt, now stained in the poorly tacked on golden leaf that made the shield a disgusting golden color. Gaudy was an understatement. “This is the heirloom? It looks more like some... cheap decorative piece.” “Funny, isn’t it? Years ago it was priceless. Think about your paycheck, then multiply it by four, add a couple extra zeroes and maybe you could afford to look at it. But now? It’s only worth its weight in sentimentality. Poor Harold tried to preserve it, give it a little shine to attract envious eyes so he could show it off. In doing so, he’s essentially ruined it.” Carmine blinked. “Worthless? So— wait, why would you steal it, then?” Another drag. “Who says I did? Mrs. Miser? Please-- I have no reason to steal it. But I know guards like you won't listen to reason. Money buys a lot of things, no?" The guard frowned. The defeatist nature of the mare was almost contagious, despite no reason for feeling so. If anything, Carmine was ready to celebrate. His hunch was right. Something was up with this case, and that got Carmine's interest piqued. He shot her something of a smirk as he approached, "And what if I said I was different than one of those guards?" Feather turned around with a growing smile. ----------BACK IN THE LIVING ROOM---------- Valor's given up. Carmine, as always, went off to do his own thing. No desire for protocol or anything. He grumbled, letting his authoritarian mask fall for a glimpse as he grumbled a "Damn it." Unfortunately, Amelie was in earshot. She took a puff from a new cigarette this time, and had now sprawled out onto the couch. Her quirked brow was noticeable by the armored guard, who quickly tried to play it off. "My apologies. My partner's... well, difficult to work with. Rest assured, we have this under control." The mare waved a hoof. "Not a problem. I know how difficult men can be. Especially one like him... but then again, you seem to kind of like that about him. Am I correct?" The pegasus chortled, responding to Amelie's assumption with a heavy roll of his eyes. She replied, "Oh, don't be like that! Annoying as it is, you've got the yang and he has the yin." Valor sniffed the air. Cigarette smoke was among one of the top ten things he hated, yet he couldn't dare ask someone to refrain from smoking in their own home. "We have the what?" "The yin. The yang. The black and white symbol-- you've seriously never heard of it? Amazing." A knock at the door turned the conversation to a coffin. Valor stepped forth, announcing to Amelie that, "Those must be the investigators. Allow me." The guard twisted the doorknob, granting the view to a handful of armored ponies. One such, being Lamia Sod, a thestral, with darkened lunar armor. Behind her was an array of other ponies all in suit and tie. She gave Valor a toothy grin. "'Sup, Val? Two investigators right here-- got Dee and Dunn." The two stallions looked like polar opposites of each other. Dee was tall, lanky, with a strong-looking mustache that obscured his lips, while Dunn was a heavier looking fellow, clean-shaven and with thinning hair on the top of his head. Dee stepped forth, flashing his badge, "Private Valor, we got it from here. Is that the sus?" Dunn interjected, "No, you dip, that's the vic. Our sus is held up holdin', the perp's mo check out?" Valor blinked. Not a single word was understood, but he tried to remain polite and professional. "I... uh, Private Gumshoe's got her. I think. Mrs. Miser says she's in her room." The thestral sneered. "Gumshoe's here? I thought I heard banjoes twangin' somewhere." Her eyes wandered the room, like she was anticipating some kind of positive reaction, even a chuckle, but all she got were Valor's crisp blue eyes squinting a venomous stare. "I see professionalism's been left at the door. Come on in and--" A returning voice threw itself in the mix. Carmine, waving a wet bath towel around while screeching, "Hold up! Hold up, I got somethin' that might interest you." Feather Duster was by his side, chewing the inside of her lip. Amelie stood right up and threw her cigarette on the ground, "Mister Gumshoe! Would you mind telling me why this WITCH isn't in cuffs?" Feather sneered, "The only witch here is you. Framing me--" "FRAMING YOU? You weasly--" "Enough!" shouted Carmine. The yell was loud enough to echo his warning across the room... all eyes were on him now. "Alright, now to put it simply: Feather Duster did not take the Miser family heirloom. If anyone cared to check the rooms or talk to Feather Duster, then they'd know that. First piece of evidence: the scratches on the marbling. Marble's notoriously easy to scuff, and these ugly chairs would do just the trick to make a nice, noticeable scuff on the scratch. That's a red flag. If Feather Duster took it, she could just use her magic. Shoot, even if she were a pegasus then all she needed to do was fly up there. The fact there's scratch marks at all is tellin', it'd need to be done by someone who couldn't *possibly* get to it on their own. Right, Amelie?" The gathering crowd's eyes whipped toward the noble mare, who began to sweat beneath her towel-tucked mane. "I... I... I-- uh, I don't... know what you could possibly mean!" His accusation cut her balance, but she soon found footing again. Her smile brightened into a homicidal grin. "Feather Duster is who took it. She's such a spiteful and cruel mare, she wanted to use the chair dirty the floor and frame me. A bit petty, if you ask me. I heard it scrape when she was dusting! Yes, right when she was sweeping, I heard her." "No, you didn't and I'll explain why. First, I'll tell you how I know you took it. In doin' so, it'll also explain why I know she didn't. Somethin' Mrs. Miser failed to tell us was that the shield was preserved in a gaudy, golden leaf. It's cheap as hell and comes off real easy, it takes some intense scrubbin' to get it off. Case in point..." the guard lifted his hoof up, revealing speckles of golden glitter shimmering on the bottom of his hoof. "I only touched it for a second. Even tried to rub it off on the carpet to clean my hoof." Both the maid and the lady of the house spoke in unison, angrily shouting, "You did WHAT?!" But Carmine was quick to move on, likely on purpose. "--Anyways, Feather Duster's outfit was dirty when I saw her. Messy, as hell, full of dust n' shit, yet I saw no gold on her. Only shimmer came from the hallway to the closet, where the heriloom had been planted by the true culprit." Almost everyone seemed to agree. The accused was struck to silence, while the maid watched her with a smirk. No one spoke, save for one silky smooth voice. Lamia, stepping in between Gumshoe and the teary-eyed mare. "Sorry to kill your little fantasy, Carmine, but take a look at Mrs. Miser. She's just as white as the maid, yet do you see any gold on her? I don't. Valor?" Six pairs of eyes watched the knight-in-training expectantly. A tortured look glimmered across his emerald green hues, both of which refused to look any of the onlookers in the eyes. Carmine, especially. He admit, he'd been listening to the guard's explanation, even felt like he was on to something, but Lamia had a point. While he bit the inside of his cheek, he simply muttered, "No. I'm sorry." Lamia took that as a certainty that she was right. Her dark hoof gestured over to the moping pegasus while a snakey grin showed off her pointy fangs. "See? You're trying too hard to make it something it's not. I know you wanna feel important, but, come on. Let's go before you embarrass yourself more." But Valor wasn't done. That guilty look transitioned to something of a thinker's scowl while he ran over past events. He looked up. "Excuse me, Mrs. Miser... you were in the shower before we arrived, right?" Amelie nodded, her white hoof gesturing over her towel-hat. "Take a look. At least we know who's *trying* to be the better detective here, Mr... Valor, was it?" The pegasus silently looked to Carmine, whose mouth opened in a silent "o" shape that transitioned to a smirk. Thanks for the help, partner.. Carmine was leading this dance once more. He stepped aside, out from Lamia's harsh stare and began once more. "So you were in the shower, right? Most folks take their showers in the morning or night time, do you normally take your showers around lunch time?" Now Amelie understood. The sweatbeads began to form once more, only she couldn't bullshit another defense. Her shields were down. Carmine could go for the kill shot. "I came in wavin' that towel earlier, the towel I got from the laundry basket that was *also* in Feather Duster's room. It's wet, with hints of gold, too. So, either Feather Duster took the heirloom and stuffed it in her room, somewhere anyone could find it, washed herself off then dirtied herself up AGAIN... or you took the heirloom in any way that you could-- with the chair, tossed it in her room, then took a shower. Gotta say, both theories seem kind of reasonable, 'cept for a motive. Feather Duster's a professional maid, not only could she have made the gold-stained carpet spotless, but she simply had no motive to do so." Amelie interjected, "LIAR! That was a precious heirloom worth the mare's weight in gold! She could've made a fortune--" "Funny, 'cause now that it's *covered* in gold, the damn thing's worthless. To you two it may be priceless, but no pawn shop in the world would take that ugly thing for more than grocery money. If it were so precious, then she would've at LEAST hidden it better, or would've pawned it off instantly. We can find out *one* way if it was really you. If you washed that shit off then more than likely there's still some of it in your drain. Mind if we take a look?" All eyes went to her. The mood in the room shifted to a gloomy, dark undertone while the earthen mare stewed her response. She opened her mouth to speak and yet no words came out. Rage-fueled tears cornered her eyelids, seeping out into a frustrated stream that cascaded down the rest of her cheeks. "That-- That harlot.. Okay! Fine, yes. I did it-- but only because this-- this... FLOOZY, has been seen with my husband during his 'trips' out of town. Restaurants, parks, movies-- the son of a bitch has been cheating on me for months!" The acid between her teeth spat out onto the floor, metaphorically hissing into the marble... but it calmed her. The mare chewed the inside of her cheek and huffed. Her voice lowered, quieted down to a sigh. "I... I could handle it if it were supposed to be secret. But to make it so public... it's so humiliating, I could just throw up." "Why blame her, Amelie? Why not blame your husband's floatin' eyes-- it takes two to tango but you're only focused on one dancer." A good question, it was, but dear Amelie couldn't answer. Her lower lip quivered in a pout. The air around her was murky with defeat. Her silence was both admittance and compliance. The investigators beside the bat both looked to each other with a confused shrug marking their hesitance and surprise. "Are we supposed to arrest her now?" asked Dee. Dunn nodded, "Aye, yeah. Framin's a crime, I'm pretty sure." Dee sniffed, "But she didn't steal nothin'. Figured that no harm, no foul." Dunn sighed. "No. Framin's a crime-- You know what? Let's just take her anyways. Pretty sure they'll just let her go if it's not--" "Aye, but it is--" The two approached, wrapping silver cuffs around the mare's hooves before they hauled her off to the carriage parked by the curb. Alas, it was only the four... Lamia, Valor, Carmine... and Feather Duster. The latter-most not being as important. The bat rolled her eyes, "Yeah, good job, Gumshoe. You managed to solve something that the investigators likely would've found out when they swept over the house. But, hey, you saved the department some time from a crime that doesn't really make sense. So, you know what? Good job." Valor spoke up next, his wings fluttered with one quick push to get him by Gumshoe's side quickly. "I'll say! That was some surprisingly fine detective work from you, Carmine. I didn't know it was possible for you to take a job so seriously." The pegasus's words of praise awoke something in Carmine. A bright burning patch of a deep red hit his cheeks, prompting him to turn away so his face got a chance to cool. Carmine cleared his throat, "Aha... well, you know. Just a gut feelin', is all. Say, I..." Cutting folks off seemed to be a type of trait shared among all that were within this house. The maid spoke up, carrying a smirk. "I thank you, Mr. Gumshoe for proving my innocence." The blush on Carmine's face faded quickly. He took a slight serious tone, "Innocence isn't a good word. You were with her husband, weren't you?" "I was. But poor Mrs. Miser was blind... their marriage has been failing for a long, long while. Harold was distraught when he came to this realization and... well, I just so happened to be there. We fell in love. When it comes to something so strong and so terrifying... isn't it best to take a chance? Even if the idea seems so far out, or just... impossible... something like that's a chance worth taking." "Right..." Carmine's words seemed dismissive, but her words actually did something for him. He shot a glance toward the knightly pegasus, who was still staring intently at the unicorn mare. That was so like him... listening intently, always on alert. By the stars, he wanted to wipe that stupid look off of his face. Concentration broke when Valor spoke again, directed toward Ms. Duster. "I think they'll want you to answer a few questions at the station. You should go on. Lamia, can you escort her?" "Right," the bat said with a roll of her eyes. In a gruff, almost stereotypical cop voice, she spoke to Feather, "You're comin' with me, punk. You're goin' downtown." A jest, to deflect from the intense atmosphere spawned from the earlier turnabout. With a couple more rehearsed cop lines, both Lamia and Feather Duster faded into obscurity, leaving the two guards to their devices. They both knew there were reports to fill. Testimonies to collect. Celebrations to be had. Yet, they both knew their place was here. For now. Carmine's face burned once more. His amber eyes counted every scratch, dent and mark on that damned tile floor. The words he's been meaning to say crawled up his throat like a bittersweet, biley vomit. His breathing had accelerated. Now was no where near the appropriate time to even consider this, yet Feather Duster's parting words still lingered on his mind. Carmine heaved a shaky sigh. "So, Val. I, uh... I got somethin' to say. I dunno if I should, but I think I know what's bothering me. I just don't want it to change anything." Valor turned his head. A few confused blinks signaled before he spoke in a half-laugh. "Carmine, what could you possibly say that would have such a big impact on us?" "You remember that night we met? In the bar, you were just chillin' with your friends and I came over and just started talkin' to everyone." "I remember. You know, before you tried punching me. You talked to everyone but me for a good little while. I thought you hated me. "I did, but I also didn't. You were so stupidly high and mighty that it pissed me off. Too smart, too, I could tell by just how you talked. I was scared you'd just end up laughin' at me if I spoke, so I tried to ignore you, but I couldn't." "So... that's why you tried to punch me?" "Kinda. See, I... When I tried-- I... Damn it, why are you so hard to talk to? I know it ain't on purpose, but my tongue gets so damn twisted when I even *look* at you, you... you..." His voice trailed into an irritated growl, while his hooves pressed into the ground. The groan was cathartic, in a sense, but it still wouldn't solve the inner turmoil. They were already halfway in their conversation. The path was there, all he needed was to walk it. "Val. I like you." The pegasus was silent. Clear, empty confusion presented itself in widened eyes. Just to assure he's heard Gumshoe correctly, he began to repeat Carmine's statement... if only his brain could manage to catch up. "You..." "Yeah." "You?" "Yes." Again, struck silent. Valor's eyes darted from all around, hoping to come to some definitive answer, but... alas, his face began to sour. Then droop. Carmine had already ran through the five stages of grief. Valor didn't need to speak. The red stallion's accepted Valor's silent answer and simply began to walk out. "You know what? Just-- Just forget I said anything. I'm sorry, I shouldn'ta brought it up. You can requisition another partner if you want. I'll understand, I kinda made it awkward. Let's go--" "...Carmine. We're guards. We uphold the law, we put ourselves right in front of danger. We can't get mixed up in-- in dating." An answer. Kind of. Valor was still thinking about his duties, as always... it was one of the things he admired the most in him, and yet, now it just made him angrier. "I know. I know, it leads to dangerous bias or workplace drama or whatever your handbook says, but... damn it, there's nothin' else for me to do. When I think about you, I just get so mad 'cause you might not like me. And even if you did, we couldn't do anything about it. But if I don't say somethin', I might just explode-- I don't even know if you're gay or not 'cause all you talk about is work! I wanna get to know you more. I wanna know about what-- what movies you like, do you like snow, what's your favorite childhood memory-- above all that, I wanna know if..." a sigh lowered his voice. "I wanna know if... you wonder the same things about me." The pegasus stopped. His lips were sucked inwards, tucked between his teeth while his mind cleared. Gumshoe took these precious seconds of silence to move on.. and to escape. His hoof moved over the handle and pushed down, but the virtuous voice of Glorious Valor spoke once more. Just one single word."...Vanhoover." The pressure on the handle was released. Carmine turned around to get another look at his partner, whose face had softened into a slightly embarrassed smile. He elaborated, quietly, "There's a bar called the Saturn's Saloon. Decrepit, ugly place filled with the nastiest, most void of life patrons you could imagine. Just a bunch of old grumps hunched over mugs and bottles." "What about it?" "Meet me there. No one would expect two guards to be... um, on a date. In there. Catch my drift?" Valor quietly answered keeping his smile small and subtle. Carmine hesitantly returned the smile. He didn't speak-- he didn't dare ruin the moment he'd been waiting for. Only an airy laugh escaped the red stallion... a tiny show of glee. The date later that night went off without a hitch. Carmine learned more about Glorious Valor in that one night than he has over their short time working together. He learned about his bonsai hobby, and his family's military background. Valor was a part of a long line of knights, each of whom took their duties to the princesses and the country incredibly seriously... Carmine learned how taxing such a heavy fate was for the poor pegasus. Born and raised to be the perfect knight... it's no wonder that he took his job so seriously. Valor learned about Carmine's messy family-- how he essentially ran away to join the guard on a whim. For something so simple as action and adventure. Carmine envied Valor's clear importance... while Valor grew jealous of Gumshoe's free spirit. The shade of green didn't interfere with their night together. They laughed, they drank, and they even shared their first kiss later that night in front of Carmine's apartment. That kiss spawned many, many secret dates. Within months, their love had solidified... and in turn, so had their fates. The Reaper's clock was tick, tick, ticking down.