A/N: apologies for the soap opera up ahead XC
Drrring! The alarm rang annoyingly as always. It was 7:00 Am this time; plenty of time to spare. Andrew took a shower, ate some cornflakes and dressed up. He decided to take his scarf ; perhaps he got so attached to his second life as the vigilante. Narissa was asleep that time, he chose not to wake her up.
Andrew mentally reminded himself to buy a bike and a Vespa for him and Narissa respectively. For now, a busy bus would suit him just fine. The stench of sweat was common whenever he entered a bus. Winter was coming soon anyway…
There was a vacant place near the driver's seat. he took that seat. the bus driver was obviously a heavy smoker from his Bad breath, yellow teeth and nails "Got a lighter?"
"Used to." His honest reply made the driver a bit grumpy. He asked a pregnant lady standing behind him. She gave him a silent glare.
"Can you turn up the volume?" the radio's sound wasn't clear a hence the Andrew's question.
The bus driver turned it up a notch. The radio was broadcasting a live conference with the chief of DMPD , Gwyndolin. One of the reporters was raining bitter questions upon the chief "Any progress on the second case, Mr. Gwyndolin? People demand some answers."
"First of all, Only one case of homicide is reported. The alleged 'first' one was out incidental. As for the REAL case. The DMPD is putting all the resources to catch this amateur. We shall not stand idle while someone threatens the safety of our citizens." If Andrew didn't know the man, he would definitely say it was a woman's voice.
"I am sure that you will." The reporter said it sarcastically yet in a professional manner. The bus driver turned off the radio "What a boy-cunt faggot! The DMPD are nothing but tax burden up in our asses!" many agreed with the driver including Andrew.
"If it weren't for his late father Gwyn, that little bitch would be outta the game. His dad was a beast though…" a backseat passenger added. Gwyn may not be one of the founding fathers of Lordran but he was considered to be one; he did so much good in the Lordran district.
Suddenly, something or someone landed on top of the bus. Andrew could see sharp talons jotting out of the roof. It must be one of these days again…
"Duck down!" One of the passengers yelled. In this kind of situations, it was for the best to do so. Andrew helped the pregnant lady to get down on the floor. He heard many things afterwards; gouts of flames, electric zapping and chains.
"It is alright, people! The boogie is down!" came the words that most of the passengers were awaiting for. Andrew stepped out of the bus to find a deformed figure of a scaled man-thing with blisters and a third arm. His legs were amphibian like in a wicked way. it was chained up and stunned as well. The channelers had the best equipment, weapons , armours….everything. their helmet was rather funny; it resembled a slender version a bike's helmet with six eye-like structures protruding from the helmet.
Four of them were at the scene; two were transporting the Manity addict to a specialized truck while the third one was on the wheels. The fourth was addressing the public. "Remember folks, you might wind up as Mr. Sleepyhead over here if you used any other source of Manity except Seath .Inc . Have a nice one."
After the channeler's incident, Andrew made it to the Bat wing building. Another surprise awaited him as couriers and other staff members were protesting at the closed doors of the building.
"They took our job!"
"You can't just sell the bat wing!"
"I got mouths to feed you assholes!" and more came from the angry mob. From the other side of the street, came a bulldozer and other heavy machineries. It was about time for Big M, the head of the Bat Wing, to show up. he was a bald man with a beer belly tucked behind a business suit.
M didn't have the chance to open his mouth as the curses were all over him. He cleared his throat before shouting "if everyone would just SHUT THE FUCK UP!' the staff started to quell a bit.
"Do you think for a fucking second that I would sell out my family's legacy? I have no other god damn choice! The government proclaimed that the building was not 'safe' for work. I don't have the money to rebuild another one especially with the prices nowadays." The older staff felt M's pain; he was literally raised in that building. "Isn't there anything we can do? Perhaps we can maintain it?"
"I tried ,bullet, I really tried…the bat wing has to go…." The Fortier shed a tear of sadness "But first, everyone get his or her stuff out of here." He unlocked the main door. Most of the staff went ahead while others tried to comfort Big M.
Andrew had been a courier for six months so far. It had been his most 'stable' job he worked on. 'Back to base…' thought Andrew when another bus was coming by.
Andrew headed back to his apartment. He heard shouting and yelling upstairs. Thankfully, It was out of rage. "GOOD FUCKING DAY!"
Sanders entered the moment Narissa slammed the phone "What's going on?"
"What's going on?!" she repeated sarcastically "Your sister called. Apparently that little bitch got worried about your welfare DAYS after the explosion! She said who the fuck am i?! Who the fuck am I ?! I am Narissa Bombshell Leon , Biatch!"
"Narissa, please calm do-"
" O hell NO! She said some baaaad things about me!" at the same moment, the phone rang again. Andrew yanked it with lightning speed before any potential disaster. "Hello?"
"WHO THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU ARE?! A HOE IN OUR HOME?! ARE YOU OUTTA OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?!" her pitch was very loud and vulgar.
"It is MY home. Your home lies with the cocky son a bitch Richard!" Andrew instantly regretted saying hose harsh word. It was too late then.
"Oooooh! I see how are things now… Andrew Sanders…. You are dead to me. Stay the fuck away from us. If you EVER tried to contact me, I will have a restraining order up at your scrawny ass." The phone went dead afterwards. Narissa stared at his crushed face "Bullet, I may have overreacted a bit. I-I sorry…"
The man didn't answer. He left the apartment in grim silence.
Whenever things got shitty, Andrew would for the Old sunlight church. He wasn't much of a religion man but he sure loved the large park associated with the church. The park was mainly dedicated to the children who can't afford the luxury of pretty much anything. He was hoping to see a certain man in the park.
He chose to walk this time despite the glaring sun and the unforgiving traffic. After half an hour or so, he arrived at the church. The church was one of the oldest buildings in the district. Its architecture was magnificent by all means; the marble pillars, the luxurious granite floor and the outstanding glass art across all the windows.
Oddly enough, the park was relatively empty save for few handicapped children around a certain pardoner. Oswald was in man in his late forties; however, the pardoner has aged fairly quickly. his wisdom and choice of words fitted his age perfectly. Oswald was a selfless giver; he found happiness within the children's smile.
Andrew waved from afar not wanting to interrupt the pardoner. Oswald finished whatever story he was reading before heading to Andrew "Good to see you, my son, have you come to confess your sins? The gods above are merciful…"
"Oh, you know me." Andrew replied. He didn't want to offend the pardoner with his 'blasphemy'.
"I see. Then what troubles you? I can see it in your eyes." That's why Andrew came here in the first place.
"I am…lost. I am losing my sister….the only thing left for me in this world. She is in conflict with a dear friend of mine who needs my help. I need guidance, Pardoner."
"My son, I knew you since you were a mere toddler. You have a pure heart with a little of misdirection. Just follow your heart. it will guide to the right path." Oswald's answers were sometimes vague and yet they never fail to guide him to the right path.
"Thanks for the advice." he slightly bowed before heading out of the parked.
"The divine's embrace is always open for redeemers…"
After returning to the apartment, Andrew found a note on the dinner table. It said ' I went for the public records, there are NO registered Alexander III. Going for Elizabeth's lead in Oolacile, Narissa.'
Oolacile district was for the higher tier of the second class. He didn't worry about Narissa on this one. On the contrary, perhaps it was good for her to keep her mind busy from Narmin's death. He thought about this ghost, Alexander the third. Could he be the infamous Tarot killer? Or was it just a big coincidence?
