Sorry it took me a while to update! I've gotten to a good bit, however, and I hope that makes up for it!
Chapter Two
A figure swathed in tight-fitting black clothes crouched in the darkness. A pair of feline eyes scanned their surroundings cautiously. The figure sat down with barely a sound and tapped its earpiece.
"Black Cat to Archer, come in Archer, do you read me? Over." The voice emanating from the figure was feminine, and frankly, a bit obnoxious.
"Archer to Black Cat. Clear as crystal. Um, over." Came the earpiece's crackly reply.
"Good," the figure, presumably known as Black Cat, said. "Did you find…" She licked her lips, green eyes darting around nervously. "…What we were looking for?"
"Not yet," said Archer gruffly. "It's really quite tricky, in this place."
"At least take out the security. I'll be there in a bit."
"Roger." Came the last reply from the earpiece. Black Cat hitched a metal hook over the rim of an open window, and in a flash, moved her slim, lithe body out into the night.
Karkat's blood was boiling. It was, he thought, hot enough to cook spaghetti. Really disgusting blood spaghetti. Not only had his search gone wrong, he had been pulled in front of his boss, arrived late to work… all in all, his day was going just awfully. He meant to leave work early, and he didn't care about the consequences. Karkat strode through the glass double doors and out onto the parking lot. He walked all the way to the bus stop and stayed there until a bus came. He stayed on the bus until it pulled up at a corner near his favorite shady establishment. The hand-painted sign over the door was so faded it could hardly be read, and the door itself was painted black. Karkat pulled the door open dejectedly and stomped inside. A burst of lively jazz and conversation reached his ears. He sat down on a barstool with a thump that would have frightened the shadiest of patrons.
"Hey, kid," said the gaunt-looking piano player. "I told you not to bother me."
"Nice to see you too, Jack." Karkat shot back.
"Do you want me to ground your ass?"
"Try me." Karkat sunk down onto the bar. Jack sighed and walked over.
"Look, kid. I know that today is not the best for you." He jabbed Karkat in the back with a finger. "You listening? Cause I don't see ya." Karkat swatted Jack's hand away with a groan.
"Stop that," he said.
"Hey, Slick! Keep your little bro out of here!" someone yelled. Jack shot them a scathing glare.
"Karkat, get the fuck out. I don't want to babysit you." He pushed Karkat in the direction of the door. "Go, um, I don't know. Go back home if your work is giving you shit. I got a solo in like five minutes."
Karkat arrived at his apartment. He unlocked the door, which issued a rusty wail. He stepped through the doorway with purpose, catching a glimpse of himself in a spotted mirror. The bathroom door had been left ajar. Karkat grumbled to himself and fiddled with the bathroom door. His disheveled reflection looked, in Karkat's opinion, like Death warmed over. His messy, dark hair stuck up in an unwieldy crown, and crashed back over his shadowed eyes. He shut the bathroom door.
As Karkat walked past his apartment's largest window, a chill ran down his spine. A dark shape whisked across the glass.
"Hello?" he asked tentatively. There was no response. But a miniscule, nagging feeling tickled his brain stem like a frantic centipede. A small sound reached his ears.
"Psst!" was what the sound sounded like. Karkat whirled around, and in a flash, a hand slapped over his mouth.