Old chapters 7-9.
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The Fourth Testament
– The Opening Act –
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He was standing next to the piano again, thoughtfully running his fingers over blindingly white keys. These last few days had been rather stressful, even though the exorcists had apparently found other locations to investigate as they did not reappear at the circus during any of the more recent versions of October the 28th, but, being forced to repeat basically the same pattern over and over again was indeed taking its toll. After all, it would not do at all to have them realise that he was one of those who remained unaffected by the regularly rewinding time.
Allen sighed heavily before once again lowering the lid onto the keys. He then put his mask back on and draped his substitute cloak over his shoulders, pulling up the hood to almost completely disguise his features. It was still before noon, but at this rate who knew when he could possibly start expecting unwanted company, seeing that he was gradually becoming more and more aware of the fact that there was something else prowling the streets, especially at night, as though the nosy exorcists roaming the place were not enough trouble already. Akuma, perhaps?
It was not impossible, but in case they were Level-Twos or above, then he found himself seriously questioning the very extent of their stupidity. If anything, if they had even the slightest bit of self-preservation, then they should be laying low now that the exorcists were roaming the place. Then again, having encountered quite a few akuma over the years, Allen had little faith in their ability to make rational decisions. As a matter of fact, he was rather surprised that he actually had any faith in them having such ability in the first place. Then again, it was pretty rare for him to actually exchange more than a few words with akuma before sending them back into a state of inexistence and setting the souls trapped within them free to pursue whatever came next. But then again, it was even rarer to find akuma that had anything other than his swift and imminent demise on their minds.
Hence, Allen did not feel that he could fault himself much for not drawing out much on the conversation when it came to fighting them. After all, giving them too much leeway was to be considered the same as giving away part of his own advantage, which was more often than not the element of surprise, as they rarely had anytime to figure out what they were up against before it was already too late. It was such an element of surprise he would very much like to retain, to keep as an ace up his sleeve to be pulled out at a time when it was truly needed, and as such, he had little intention of ever letting the Order learn just who and what he was. Then again, there was also the fact that they were extremely likely to start chasing him around with the intent of bringing him in, and Allen, who had spent quite a few years of his life staying under the radar of said Order and its associates, was not quite feeling up to playing hide and seek for extended periods of time unless he absolutely had to.
Then again, even Allen himself was painfully aware of the fact that he was quite unlikely to be able to stay hidden forever, especially after his activities as of late, even if he had made his mark on the world wearing a mask and had as such bought himself some time, seeing that masks could be worn and discarded at one's own convenience.
Then again, there was just one little problem…
He sighed, picked up a bunch of flyers and set out, leaving the circus tent and the surrounding area behind.
- o0o -
"You must really love high places," a cheerful voice said, bringing him out of his lazy reverie.
He looked up, or down to be correct, at the sight of that exorcist girl peering up at him with a smile where he sat on top of a couple of crates outside a closed café. He could say, with all due honesty, that he was not overly surprised at her appearance as he had already caught wind of her scent, one vaguely reminiscent of some sort of flower. Still, noticing her approach was not the same as acknowledging it, so maybe that's why she felt the need to speak to him.
He tilted his head slightly to the side. "I do not love high places any more than I hate being grounded," he eventually responded, smiling mildly. "Or perhaps I merely try to get close to the sky because I envy the birds that have wings to carry them wide and far, to places even I cannot reach? I do wonder why myself."
Stupid questions that weren't really questions deserved stupid answers that weren't really answers, regardless of whether they were asked in order to strike up a conversation with an absolute stranger or not.
"So you're with the circus?"
Again. Another one of those stupid questions that were not really questions.
Allen's smile widened to a grin and he tilted his head to the other side, positively beaming at her from beneath the hood. "Nope, I merely like to dress up and pretend," he responded, still smiling. "Are you a member of the interrogation unit?"
She looked surprised. "Why would I be?"
"Because you ask lots of questions without even introducing yourself," Allen amiably returned.
"Oh…" At least she had the decency to look embarrassed. "I'm Lenalee," she then introduced herself. "I was just wondering if I could have a seat next to you; I lost sight of my companion and I think might get a better view from up there…"
Allen blinked, genuinely surprised for a second before he reached down, holding out his right hand for her to take. For once, the fact that he was stuck in a rewinding town had actually served his purpose, as the wounds on his palms had been sucked back along with the time at the end of the day. Lucky.
"I love high places," Lenalee Lee said as she had taken a seat next to him on top of the stacked crates. "I don't really know why I do, but maybe I just like the view…"
You're saying those words sitting on top of a couple of mostly empty crates, less than three metres above ground. Are you not even slightly embarrassed?
Then again, it was probably all an act, an act which had been put in place with the sole purpose of lulling him into some false sense of security before…
"What's your name?" she suddenly asked, turning her head towards him with her eyes full of anticipation.
And, there it was.
"Which one?" Allen returned, smirking. "As an actor, I carry the names of all the parts I play, so which name might you be asking for?"
"Your real one, if you would be so kind," she answered, a light pout present on her face to match the admonishing tone.
Why ever would I even consider being so kind, exorcist?
His smirk widened slightly as his Joker persona came into full play; if the female exorcist intended to play him for a fool, however unintentionally, then the least he could do was to return the favour… with interest.
"I've got none," he wistfully replied, gazing up at the sky while desperately trying to contain his amusement. A slight chuckle broke through but he stifled it with his hand. "Or perhaps I did have one," he continued. "…One given to me a long time ago by the mother and father who sold me off to the circus because I was far too much of a disfigured freak to be loved as a son?"
He did not have to look in her direction to be able to tell that she had grown rather pale; he was enjoying this far more than expected. She swallowed soundly, apparently rethinking whether or not she dared ask about it. "Disfigured?" she eventually inquired, her voice little more than a whisper.
Allen smiled blandly at her. "I wear this mask for a reason, you know," he said, tilting his head again. "…As scars are rarely very beautiful to look at."
There. If that level of emotional bullshit virtually made up on spot did not get her off his back regarding his identity and purpose then he would have to get creative, or violent.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise," she said, finally opting to change the subject. "I was just wondering… have you noticed anything strange going on in this town lately?"
"Why do you ask?" Allen responded, his voice calm but most of his earlier friendliness having diminished.
"Actually…" she started, hesitated a moment, and then started anew. "Actually, my companion and I were sent here to investigate something and we're currently looking for clues, but we haven't found much as of yet so…"
"That's rather vague," Allen commented as he collected the remaining flyers before jumping down. His feet impacted on the ground with a light thud, and only then did he turn slightly. "Then again, if you're looking for something strange, then I suppose that there is one thing…"
Hook.
"Quite some time ago," he continued, looking thoughtful. "In another town, I caught wind of this rumour regarding a white-cloaked figure roaming the surrounding woods at night and that all those who ventured there never returned… and that their clothes were found the following morning alongside piles of ashes…"
Line.
"The White Demon," he said, yawning. "That's what they called it, if I remember correctly, and just the other night when I was out to get some fresh air I found myself face to face with an individual who looked remarkably similar to myself… you know, with the mask and the white cloak and all… it was only that… his was all glowing and stuff, and mine sure isn't…"
Sinker.
"And what happened next?" Lenalee asked, somewhat tense yet seemingly unable to contain herself.
Allen's smile, hidden from her sight, widened almost sinisterly.
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This was far from the first time that Allen, as Joker or otherwise, had fed some absolutely ridiculous story he had usually crafted on spot to someone he seriously wanted off his tail. Still, Allen could not recall it ever having been this easy, but then again, there was the matter of 'good faith' to consider. On the other hand, it was not exactly his fault – not entirely, at least – that some were actually naïve enough not to realise when someone was just feeding them this great load of bullshit in order to get them to stop asking questions about stuff which was really none of their business.
The truth can go and screw itself over, he mentally repeated, because lies held some serious entertainment value. Then again, he was by far not deluded enough to seek to delude himself in regards to the truth, and the truth was that he had seemingly thrown caution to the wind at some point during his stay in the rewinding town, and as such, he had created problems for himself that he could seriously have done without. Then again, in regards to many of the things in question, it was still a bit early to tell exactly which ones had been mistakes and which ones that had been… high-risk investments?
Allen yawned, stretching his stiff limbs before once again setting off in search of some other elevated position where he would be able to slack off and pretend to be working, preferably without the company of exorcists.
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It was slight, just a vague fluctuation in his surroundings, but he felt it regardless and stopped in his stride, letting his eyes fall shut, putting the visual out of the equation temporarily to allow his other senses to tune in and gradually sharpen. It was not a sound, yet it kind of was, just not one which could be caught by the human ear but still came to resonate within him, ever so clearly when his mind sought out the source. Once he had pinpointed it well enough, he opened his eyes again, staring blankly up ahead for a second or two, to allow his senses to adjust, to synchronise. Bingo.
Allen would actually care to admit, to himself at least, that he had wondered about the recent movements of the akuma he had vaguely caught the presences of, yet now, his senses had caught onto something else that certainly had not been there before, an anomaly, something which only barely managed to trip his tuned-up senses and something which seemed to almost draw the akuma towards it. Then again, knowing his senses were by no means completely reliable – especially so with his own body slowly but certainly drawing closer to its limits – it was entirely possible that he was mistaken and that he was just imagining it all due to paranoia caused by his abysmal sleeping habits. However, knowing his luck, then it probably wasn't just a figment of his overactive imagination, and as such, he felt that he might as well go and investigate it there and then to find out exactly what he could possibly be up against.
He began to walk again, and passing by a couple of shop windows and catching sight of his own reflection, all guised up and not very inconspicuous at all, and he stopped briefly before heaving another weary sigh, strolling into a narrow alleyway nearby. After having made sure he was not beneath anyone's scrutiny, he swiftly pulled the cloak off and folded it with practiced ease, making it small enough to fit into the multipurpose bag he had gotten down from his shoulder where it had earlier been hidden beneath the cloak. Once that was over with, Allen slowly reached up, dislodging the mask from his face and lowering it slightly, resting his eyes on it for a few moments.
It was strange really, how used he had gotten to wearing it. At times, he even wondered if he still looked the same beneath it all. The thought nearly caused him to snort with laughter as soon as it occurred to him. Oh God…
Not that he actually held any particular belief in said sadist in the sky; it was merely a figure of speech, and gosh, that earlier thought of his had been absolutely hilarious for some reason. Really, it took a great deal of self-control for him not to burst out laughing then and there.
Allen snorted, shoving the mask into the bag before slinging the bag over his shoulder, staring up into the cloudy skies with a somewhat weary look on his face. I think I may be going a bit crazy…
He shifted his weary eyes onto the nearest building, his eyes wandering up the wall. Then, he sighed, strolling off in the direction he had come from, tracing back to the spot where he could vaguely recall having seen a ladder. These buildings are way too tall, he decided.
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Admittedly, climbing up a ladder in broad daylight was not the most discreet thing Allen could had done. Then again, as he with practiced ease climbed it and heaved himself up onto the roof in virtually no time at all, Allen was honestly glad that he hadn't gone for a more covert route simply to be discreet. Besides, the thought of climbing up a chimney was not an overly tempting one, especially not since it was not a very discreet one in the longer term, seeing that someone might just want to know why he was covered in soot and all. Also, there was that minor thing that he had a certain tendency of turning borderline claustrophobic whenever he was shut into dark cramped spaces.
He shoved the thought away, not wanting to be reminded of such things, as he crouched down in the shadow of a chimney, with the intent both to stay hidden and to try to relocate the odd sounds or signals or whatever they were before he continued his search. After a few moments, he reopened his eyes, staring blankly at the roofing tiles at his feet for a second before he was fully back in the present, turning his eyes elsewhere. They're gone.
Allen frowned lightly, but a quick check confirmed his earlier observation. This puzzled him, but he still didn't get out of hiding even though it seemed as though his prey had left the premises prematurely. There was still something bothering him.
It took every inch of his self-control not to flinch when there was suddenly something slightly pointy resting against his throat and a heavy sigh nearly escaped him. Well… I suppose I should have expected this.
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"I don't want to get involved…"
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A smirk found its way to his lips as he leapt onto another roof, running along the rooftops in direction of more familiar territory, while at the same time aiming to put a bit more distance between himself and the insanely persistent sword-carrying exorcist, who less than half an hour ago had tried his luck in terms of attempting to sever Allen's , Allen was asking himself why he was still smirking under these utterly troublesome and possibly dire circumstances. Still, having determined that the distance between him and his unwanted pursuer was just about right, he took to the air for one last leap and upon his landing on the next roof, he was back in the shape of the Crowned Clown.
His pursuer let out some sort of shout, stopping briefly at the sight of his transformation.
Allen's smirk widened to a grin, and then things started all over again.
For better or worse, things had certainly gotten more interesting.
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If there truly was a time when to throw all caution to the wind, maybe this was it?
Maybe it is, Allen silently mused as he evaded yet another strike directed at his vitals.
Maybe this moment really was the right time to discard whatever plans and notions had occupied his skull day in and day out, leading him nowhere but deeper and deeper into the abyss of questionable sanity. He needed his freedom, yet here he was still trapped within and it was driving him steadily towards the edge.
For the longest time, he had focused on other matters, trying to keep himself occupied in order not to think much about his own situation. However, maybe this was truly the time to take a just few more desperate measures…
A light chuckle rose from his throat, its sound tickling at his senses. Then, his eyes narrowed predatorily and he lashed out, finally foregoing his defensive and evasive strategy to switch over to a slightly more offensive one. However, he had only just about dealt his opponent the decisive blow when his senses caught onto something approaching swiftly, and in response, he retreated, doing a back flip just in time to avoid something as it whizzed past him in the air.
Immediately upon touching ground, Allen shielded himself in the case of any further incoming attacks. However, he was honestly surprised when no such attacks were directed towards him.
Having gained enough time to make a swift but proper analysis of the situation, Allen made some swift observations and drew some swift conclusions. He did not dwell much on them however, opting to go for a strategic retreat until he had obtained some new intelligence, now that his adversary had oh-so-conveniently been tied up elsewhere. And with that kind of vaguely established plan in mind, Allen went for the seemingly fastest getaway route which was available to him, which just happened to be down a nearby chimney. Thankfully, the cloak of his still activated Innocence shielded him from most of the soot, and before long, he rolled out on the floor in the pub down below before getting to his feet in a surprisingly elegant motion, returning to his Joker persona as he elegantly handed out flyers to the still somewhat baffled audience that had accidentally come to witness his grand and utterly unintentional entrance.
Then, under the guise of seemingly having accomplished his purpose, he exited the pub after having bowed courteously before his audience before leaving, getting as far as into a nearby alley before he shed his cloaked disguise, brushing remnants of soot and ashes out of his hair and from his pieces of clothing. Well… that went down far more smoothly than expected…
And then, he continued on his way, but before long he sensed that something was awry.
Someone was watching. He didn't turn around, closing his eyes instead to try to sense them.
Akuma. They were trailing just beyond the reach of his senses, appearing like flickering shadows in his consciousness, but there was something else, something beyond that… something truly dangerous.
There was a decision to be made, and he needed to make it quickly.
Attack was the best defence after all.
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Lenalee Lee sighed deeply where she sat, nursing a cup of coffee while waiting for her companion to turn up at the small indoor café which had been their agreed meeting place. It was already almost half an hour past the agreed meeting time when the door suddenly slammed open and a dirty and positively livid Kanda Yu entered, looking rather like he had dived down a chimney for no particular reason and been burnt while doing it.
Lenalee got up at the sight of him, opening her mouth to ask about it, but refrained in doing so when the other positively glared at her before taking the seat at her opposite, crossing his arms and stubbornly ignoring all the strange looks people were sending their way. "Um…" she started, not entirely sure as how to phrase what she had been meaning to say. "I take it you have had more luck than I had in finding something out of the ordinary…"
Kanda Yu looked up sharply in response, glaring long and hard at her before directing his glare elsewhere and then proceeded to stare at a nearby window-pane as though it had somehow offended him greatly, but he offered her no answer.
"I met that Joker guy we met at the circus earlier…" Lenalee started, observing how the other's facial expression darkened. "And he told me something very interesting…"
Kanda returned his glare towards her. "Get to the damn point."
Lenalee sighed. "Kanda, there is no need to be rude," she admonished him, and his eyes narrowed slightly in response.
"Get to the damn point… please," he then hissed, looking as though uttering 'please' was enough to make him want to vomit.
Lenalee Lee however, who was quite used to Kanda's antics, just smiled slightly in response, silently marvelling over the fact that she had once again managed to make the other behave at least somewhat civilly for once. "Anyways, I talked to this Joker guy," she continued, raising the cup of coffee to her lips. "And, he told me about this rumour he had heard…"
"Rumour?" Kanda dutifully repeated.
"A rumour about a white-cloaked figure roaming the night," she continued, stirring her cup of coffee. "He referred to it as 'The White Demon'…"
Kanda looked up sharply. "White Demon?"
"Yes," Lenalee replied, recalling the other things Joker had said. "People tended to disappear at night in areas it appeared… and that their clothes were found later on alongside piles of ashes…"
Kanda stood up suddenly, causing Lenalee to look up at him in question. "This Joker guy told you that?" he questioned, seemingly impatient.
"He did," Lenalee affirmed, frowning slightly. "What about it?"
"And this so called 'White Demon' also wore a white cloak and a mask?" Kanda questioned, turning so that he almost had his back to her.
Lenalee's frown deepened. "Yes," she then answered, silently wondering just where he was trying to lead the conversation. "He claimed to have seen it just the other night… "
"Oh, he did, did he?" Kanda asked.
Lenalee looked up at the tone that he was using. Although she could not see his face, she could still pretty much tell what kind of expression he was wearing at that very moment and it was not one she liked. Then, she put her cup of coffee back onto the table with a bit more force than was necessary. "Kanda! Stop acting like an idiot!" she said. "It's true. He told me so. It had him by the throat and kept on asking him about Innocence! Innocence! Why would anyone lie about something like that?"
"You're too gullible," Kanda said in response, deadpan, turning around to give her a look.
Lenalee opened her mouth to protest, but he spoke again before she was able to. The things he told her made her mouth fall agape. "Are you completely sure about this?" she said, eyes wide in disbelief.
"They had the same presence," Kanda responded. "And I caught a glimpse of an inverted pentagram on his forehead before he transformed, and a bunch of other akuma was swarming around him."
"But, he bled back when we first fought him!" Lenalee insisted, paling. "Akuma's should bleed Dark Matter, not blood!"
"The corpse could still be fresh enough to have some blood in it," Kanda suggested, watching as Lenalee looked even more sickened.
"But…" she began. "But he…"
What else she meant to say was lost when a sudden noise, vaguely reminiscent of some sort of explosion, assaulted her ears and she got up, startled and somewhat unsteady for some reason. "What was that?" she asked, her eyes wide.
Kanda grunted out some sort of response, but she didn't catch it, and before long both of them were out the door, intent on finding out what had occurred.
- o0o –
Miranda Lotto looked up, startled at the sudden sound for a moment before she once again returned to what she had been doing previously, pacing back and forth in her apartment and biting her nails while doing so. She stopped, turned around and looked towards the old Grandfather clock where it stood against the wall, counting the time that was left before yet another rewind.
"Please," she whispered, tears rising in her eyes as she approached it. "Please… let Allen be okay… don't let anything bad happen to him… don't let any of my bad luck affect him… I know I can't do anything right but please don't-…"
"I know I'm useless but…" she said, looking up at the clock.
She turned around and looked at the pile of cloth that lay next to the window. It was her costume – her unfinished stage costume – which lay there on the floor, discarded, waiting to be picked up and finished some day, waiting in vain for a day that would never come; an utterly useless unfinished ugly piece of fabric, which would be of use to anyone, ever, just like her.
Miranda shook her head fervently, trying to shake the thought loose where it had seemingly edged itself into her brain, repeatedly engraving itself and leaving ugly scars in its wake. No, she had to stop thinking those thoughts. She had to believe; she had to believe in herself, just like Allen had said, just like Allen had told her to. Allen…
She knew next to nothing about him, even though she had spent many days with him as her sole companion, but still she felt as though she would willingly put her own life in his hands. To her, it seemed as though there was always this strange calm atmosphere around him; regardless of the situation, to her he almost always came across as one unaffected by the world, as someone who could live on their own and never be lonely. Miranda wished she could be like that. She wished that she too could enter a lion's cage without fear, that she could stand tall and unwavering when people yelled at her or called her useless. She wished, but she lacked courage.
She stepped towards the pile of fabric on the floor, bending down to pick up the mask that lay partially hidden beneath the folds of fabric. She looked down at it where it lay in her hands. "I don't want to be useless," she said, turning back to face the clock.
She brought out the Grandfather clock's key from beneath her clothes, where it had hung around her neck so long without her realising it, and she approached the clock, holding the key firmly in her hands, trying to keep them from shaking.
- o0o -
"This clock contains Innocence."
"Innocence?"
"Listen."
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"The Innocence reacts to your feelings."
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I want to change.
She pushed the key in, twisted it around, and the world changed.
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Miranda twisted the key and then reached towards the clock face, starting to push the hands of time backwards, experiencing a strange rush as the flow of time once again changed. The further back she went, the more tedious the task itself seemed and she experienced a kind of fatigue she had never encountered before, not even after countless of sleepless nights which she had spent worrying about the future, but she did not stop, knowing somehow that she needed to continue rewinding the clock until it read the same as when the whole mess had begun.
She rewound it another hour, feeling how the clock hands got heavier and harder to turn each and every time, as if time itself attempted to resist her, but she still kept on going until the clock hands would budge no more and her own hands lacked the strength to continue. Tears once again started assembling in her eyes, but these were ones of frustration rather than sadness. "Innocence…" she said, her voice barely rising above a whisper. "Please… please just… please just listen to me… listen to my wish… please…"
She held onto the clock hands until she could hold on no more, upon which she crumbled, falling from the chair and onto the floor in a pitiful heap where she then lay, trembling. Miranda did not know for how long she lay there on the floor, but shrill laughter – expressing the highest kind of amusement – eventually brought her out of her reverie.
A frilly-clad girl was in the room, leaning her chin onto her folded umbrella as she looked down upon her with a pair of cold amber-coloured eyes.
And then, she knew no more.
- o0o -
Allen twisted his body around, using the force of gravity to his advantage as he struck down. The akuma actually managed to parry the blow, something which surprised him somewhat, but he paid it little heed in that moment as he was far too busy evading attacks directed at his person.
Three akuma. Three puny Level-Twos.
Allen failed to see why he was having even the slightest amount of trouble in dealing with them. Special abilities aside, they shouldn't have been able to do much against him, yet, here they were, keeping him on his toes. No…
He evaded another attack, ducked down and launched a strike, but they pulled back in time, avoiding it. Were they getting faster? It's not them…
He could feel his heart beating fast and erratically, barely covering up the sound of his own strained breathing. It was weird. The sounds were all getting distorted, echoing in his ears as though they were all very distant, as though they were all just auditory enough, his eyes followed his ears, and his vision blurred momentarily.
Realising what was about to occur, Allen gritted his teeth, bracing himself. He parried another attack, barely managing to avoid being cut up by a couple of sickles while he was at it before he once again engaged in a fight with the akuma. Still, he was not late to realise – even in his deteriorating state – that he was forgetting something essential. The third-…!
It was already upon him, having crept up from behind. "Die!"
Allen's eyes widened, and he went with the first thing that came to mind when he caught sight of a sharp piece of metal rushing towards him, guided in that direction by the very nemesis he had faced earlier on. He ducked, evading the fate of being impaled and embracing the one of narrowly escaping to the side, continuing off into that direction until he reached a big chimney, using it to keep him steady while he assessed the new situation which was at hand with the arrival of the exorcists. Well… shit.
It was a fair assessment of the situation, overall. His heart was still beating madly, as though it was trying to escape his chest. Oh crap…
His body appeared to be about to go into some kind of shock, and Allen instinctively knew he had to get away from there before it did. Closing his eyes, he focused his mind on the task which lay ahead; everything else just consisted of obstacles, obstacles he needed to overcome or avoid. His breathing calmed, and it was as though time itself slowed down as well, and he was finally able to think clearly again. He opened his eyes, assessing the so called battlefield on the rooftops and the participating parties for a moment. Then, at a moment where the combatants seemed appropriately occupied with each other, he turned around and approached the ledge. His senses tingled again, signalling the approach of danger. Then, he jumped.
- o0o -
He silently lay in wait, hiding behind a small case of stairs, waiting for his body to calm down and for it to recover to some degree before he moved on. Still, even though he had still managed to pull a strategic retreat at the right second and managed to put some distance in-between himself and the still ongoing battle, he was by no means very satisfied with the outcome of the situation.
I do come across as rather pathetic, don't I?, he silently mused where he sat, his knees drawn up to his chin and his head tilted backwards, looking up at the somewhat dreary-looking sky.
Evidently, he did not deal well with being in a state reminiscent of captivity; he needed his freedom, and shut inside the town as he had been for what felt like weeks, stuck repeating the same day over and over, his mental and physical health had already become compromised. Still, of all times to experience a backlash…
For some odd reason, he had trouble restraining his laughter, and imagined – just for fun – how yet another crack had appeared on his general sanity, which had been a quite dodgy thing from the very beginning. He sighed, using his sleeve to wipe his mouth, clearing away the remnants of the blood he had coughed up only a few minutes previously. Taking this into consideration, Allen supposed that it might be a good idea to keep his Innocence activated at an absolute minimum in the future, as he did not fancy the idea of coughing up blood simply because of a little overuse.
Evidently, he had experienced a few backlashes in the past, but those had only ever taken place post-battle, when he would be able to take care of it and rest without having to risk facing the possible repercussions of running into another enemy. In a worst case scenario, he could no doubt end up exerting himself with one enemy, only to be caught in a weakened state by another.
In a one-on-one battle under normal circumstances, Allen knew that he in general had little to worry about, as the thing with fighters was the same as with most other things; if they were weak, they generally stuck together and if they were strong they generally fought alone. People who perceived themselves as stronger than others could be added into teams, yet more often than not they did not fight as such. Several strong and headstrong individuals in one team would no doubt result in clashes between individual members, as combining different individual fighting styles into a common one was very difficult. It was the same with performers at the circus, and Allen, considering himself somewhat of an individualist by nature, performed better alone.
I am a solitary existence, a one-man team… swearing no allegiances and taking orders from no one… except when it suits my purposes…
He looked up, turning his attention to the left.
A grey cat sat there on the steps, looking down at him somewhat curiously with its bright yellowish eyes. Allen slowly raised his hand up to its level, and it pulled away momentarily. Then, it moved closer again, nuzzling his hand in greeting. Somewhat absentmindedly, he began to scratch its chin, earning some purring in return. Then, quite suddenly, the cat went silent and its ears moved slightly before it turned, directing its eyes elsewhere, its pupils narrowing to slits. Its tail twitched slightly before stilling, as the creature moved, lowering itself slightly and assuming a position in which it seemed ready to pounce.
Allen, temporarily caught up in his observations, remained still in his position even as he caught sight of the alley rat as it crept closer and closer to its imminent demise, as it seemed far too concerned with examining some pieces of garbage nearby to notice the two pairs of eyes staring at it. One pair of eyes was hungry and belonged to a cat, while the other pair was filled with idle curiosity, belonging to Allen Walker.
The rat looked up, finally noticing the threat looming from above. However, the cat had already launched its assault and wasted little time to strike its claws into the smaller creature as it cried out, attempting to make its escape, all while Allen continued watching, even as the cat started playing with its injured prey, seemingly intent on having some fun with it before killing and eating it.
For some odd reason, Allen found that he would have been unable to look away from the scene. Something about it enticed him, catching and keeping his attention even though he could instinctively tell that there were other matters of greater importance to tend to. He continued to watch as the cat apparently grew tired of playing and how it proceeded to swallow what little remained of its makeshift toy, licking its lips with a seeming contentedness apparent in its demeanour. Then, the yellowish eyes turned towards him yet again. Allen returned the look, watching the cat as it sat down again, beginning to clean itself, its tail still twitching with excitement. Again, he put out his hand. The cat stopped what it was doing, got up and advanced on him, its tail held high, stopping only when it had reached his hand and nuzzled it slightly.
"Should I stop fooling around?" Allen suddenly asked, directing himself to no one in particular.
The cat eyed him curiously for a moment before it went back to marking him with its scent.
He tilted his head slightly backwards again, directing his eyes skyward towards the rooftops. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed in his ears, and his eyes narrowed slightly in response. I don't want to get involved…
He gave the cat one last caress before sending it on his way, rising to his feet and turning to greet his most recent opponent as it exited seemingly from the shadows themselves.
Amber eyes glimmered, but Allen remained impassive even as they approached.
- o0o -
But…
- o0o -
It'll be farther to turn back now than to move forward…
- o0o -
Allen Walker opened his eyes with a weary sigh, steadily growing wearier by the second. However, alongside the weariness, impatience made itself reminded like a never-ceasing itch in some place seemingly unreachable. He wanted little more than to spring from his current position and plunge himself into the abyss that lay beyond the stage which he had somewhat reluctantly stepped upon, though in truth, he was merely thinking about how nicely it would have been if he could have just rewound time and prevented himself from ever getting involved in this mess in the first place.
As with the whole Joker business and all, although masks could be worn and discarded at one's own convenience and although Allen himself had mostly made his mark on the world while wearing one, he had not covered his tracks well enough. Not even nearly well enough…
In retrospect, Allen supposed that it may have been quite foolish to take on the mask of Joker without having much of a plan in the first place, and in silence, he found himself cursing his own negligence. On the other hand though, before this whole affair had turned up on his figurative doorstep, he had never really had much reason to keep the different personas separated in the first place. It was only now that a troublesome few – that is to say, already far too many – had caught a glimpse of his real face and possibly ruined his chances of keeping Allen Walker out of the spotlight. So much for that…
Allen shifted slightly in his seat, tilting his head mildly to the side as he surveyed the scene before him from the throne-like armchair in which he currently resided, looking down at the miserable state of his currently indisposed foes.
The two exorcists – affectionately referred to as Ms. Cheerful and Mr. Grumpy, as he had temporarily misplaced their actual names – were obviously in for a quite rude awakening sometime in the near future, as they were about to find themselves captured and nailed to the wall through some half-arsed crucifixion, courtesy of their darling hostess.
Said darling hostess, a frilly-clad female of a seemingly younger model who went by the name of Road – seemed to take a great deal of pleasure and amusement in nailing people to walls with nails and some sort of pointed candles. Hence, Allen was rather glad that he was attending this particular gathering as a mostly uninvolved bystander rather than as an involuntary guest, though perhaps he was in reality a bit of both.
The events taking place after his little run-in with the akuma and the exorcists had been both surprisingly pleasant and surprisingly unpleasant, all at the same time. Perhaps it was the whole element of surprise that had made him so ill at ease with his current company, however, all indications pointed towards him being ill at ease because of the rather peculiar behaviour his hostess displayed in his immediate vicinity.
It was peculiar in the sense that it displayed hints of a strange kind of familiarity which was, in truth, kind of freaking him out. Yet, at the same time, taking the new pieces of intelligence which had reached him into consideration, maybe the girl's familiarity with his character and state of being was not so peculiar after all.
Allen sighed again, leaning his elbow onto one of the armrests before resting his chin on his hand, looking thoughtful. When I get out of this situation, the bastard who indirectly put me here is going down.
But until then, Allen supposed he just had to play his part and lay in wait for an opportunity to either slip away quietly and leave things to be resolved on their own without any meddling on his part, or he would do pretty much the same only with a somewhat flashier exit.
Allen's eyes fell on the heap on the floor, at the motionless form of Miranda where she lay next to the clock which was the source of his troubles, or at least the source of some of his more recent ones. He sighed inwardly.
Without the Innocence running haywire within a restricted area, Black Order nuisances would not have arrived in town and neither would an emissary of the supposed Anti-Christ himself have found it necessary to drop by, if not for such an unusual and thoroughly annoying occurrence, the supposed Anti-Christ of course being the Millennium Earl, or simply 'The Duke' as he was seemingly referred to as by his vicious two-faced little disciple.
Maybe his assessment of Road Camelot was not an entirely fair one, yet in his defence Allen would be able to claim that this assessment relied almost entirely upon what he had been able to discern from their initial encounter, if said encounter truly had been their first, that is. After all, at times, his memories were not all that reliable.
Allen sighed inwardly again, contemplating his next move. Then, he looked up at the sound of someone groaning.
It appeared as though at least one of the exorcists had decided to rejoin the living and the wakeful.
It was about damn time. "Oh, awake already?"
A growl. The exorcist in question both looked and sounded astonishingly feral. Had Allen not had his eyes tell him about the other's shape of being, even he would have had trouble figuring out just what kind of feral beast had produced such a sound, and he had a hard time not to snicker at this.
"The speed of your recovery is astounding," Road continued, also seemingly amused by the feral display, especially as her comment was answered by another growl and some gibberish which did sound an awful lot like some kind of swearwords.
Then, Road turned, moved swiftly and the next second she had already relocated herself onto one of the armchair's armrests, her slender arms encircling Allen's neck and shoulders in some kind of hug. "Don't you think so too, Joker?" she then asked, alternating between looking at him and at the exorcist in question.
It was only his regained sense of self-control that kept him there in that position, as he had determined that the fastest way out of the situation was to play along with the rules of the game. Had this not been on his mind, then his flight reflexes would no doubt have kicked in at the suddenness of her rather extreme proximity.
Having deactivated his Innocence, he had once again donned his regular Joker outfit. Having decided that if he was to be a part of a game he might as well participate in it in a role which was more suited for the purpose than his regular persona, he was not all that disappointed in the reaction his presence managed to stir in the temporarily incapacitated and restrained exorcist.
"You…" the exorcist – Kanda Yu, his mind supplied – growled, his voice thick with loathing. "What the fuck are you?"
Road giggled slightly, but fell silent when Allen reached up to dislodge himself from her restraining arms, opting to rise to his feet. She let go, seemingly reluctant to do so, and then continued observing as he made his way up towards the exorcists, stopping about a metre or so away from the prisoners. "I am who I am," Allen responded with a mild shrug. "And I am what I am."
"Coward," the exorcist hissed, pulling at his restraints. "A fucked-up bloody cowardly-…"
"Strategist," Allen responded with a small laugh. "I have a tendency of choosing my battles rather than barging into things… not that I would expect an exorcist such as yourself to understand…"
The exorcist sent him a withering glare, eyes narrowing.
"The curtain is calling," Allen continued, stepping closer. "For the actors to assemble…"
"To act out the script devised by the Duke," Road finished from her position in the armchair, her eyes twinkling sinisterly.
Allen was so close by then, close enough to put his hand out to touch the other, when he paused in his movements. Then, he put his hand out towards the exorcist, grinning mockingly at him from beneath the hood. "Will you do me the honour of the first dance, exorcist?"
- o0o -
There had been too many theatrics, even for his taste, but they achieved their purpose in the end so Allen supposed they were not a complete waste after all.
He calmly deposited a fairly small but heavy bag of coins into Road's waiting hands. "Tell the Duke that he is to consider my debt paid back in full, with interest."
Road smiled almost mischievously at him before turning and disappearing through one of her doors, which then faded out of existence, restoring the room to its place in the real world.
Miranda looked at him, hesitant and a little wary, but in truth he had expected as much.
He sighed inwardly, resisting an urge to scratch the back of his head. Alright… time to move on…
He took a step forward, in direction of the door. He stopped only when he was on the threshold, turning his head to glance at her where she stood, not having moved from her previous spot but looking at him all the same, looking rather pitiful in his opinion. Abandoned, like a sad little puppy in the rain. No… like a tiny little kitten, starved for affection, left out in the world with no one to take care of it.
Allen sighed, cursing his own inability to stay uninvolved. And, after a brief moment of contemplation, he cursed his inability to resist becoming emotionally invested in small felines' general wellbeing as well. To Hell with it all…
"If you want to come along, then go ahead," he said. "But decide quickly."
Time, as it had once again returned to its normal non-repetitive flow, was no longer their ally. It was only a question of time before the exorcists regained their senses and recovered enough presence of mind to find their location. Time was running out, and he needed to move forward, with or without her.
She hesitated, fidgeting. "Is this… really alright with you?"
He remained where he was, stealing a glance at her in the corner of his eye, silent.
"Can I really… go with you?" she asked, looking at him.
He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Then, he turned his head slightly in her direction, briefly meeting her gaze before directing his own elsewhere. "I hate repeating myself," he stated, somewhat resignedly. "Tag along if you like, stay if you like, but decide quickly."
She took a step forward. Then, she hesitated again, glancing towards the old grandfather clock where it still stood with its back to the wall, ticking on and on in its seeming innocence. "What about…?"
Funnily enough, Allen had almost forgotten all about that heinous device which had landed him in this troublesome situation to begin with. "It would most certainly be a hindrance if we brought the entire thing along," he said, turning around fully to study it, alternating between looking at the object in question and Miranda. "What will you do?"
Miranda glanced at the clock again, and a faint smile appeared on her face. Then she walked up to it, laying her hands on it. "This clock… was the first to acknowledge me…" she said. "But… I think that it'd like me to follow my own wishes…"
He looked at her, gauging her level of determination."Are you sure?"
She nodded. "Yes."
He received the key, stepping up on a chair. He pushed the key in and twisted it, and after some resistance it gave in and opened up. He reached in, dislodging the piece of Innocence before carefully pulling it out, placing it into Miranda's upturned palms. "Here you go."
She stood silent for a while, simply staring at the object in her hands. "It's more beautiful than I thought it would be…" she then said, with a hint of awe in her voice. "It's…"
Miranda looked up at the clock again, and then back what lay in her hands, silent.
"We'll find another medium for it eventually…" Allen said, stretching his sore limbs. "Now let's go before any more troubles reach our doorstep."
She nodded, picking up the small suitcase of her most necessary belongings. She then opened it, just enough so that she could slip the piece of Innocence into it, before once again shutting it and locking it for good measure.
"Are you ready to set off?" Allen asked with a hint of amusement.
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Miranda responded, taking a somewhat shaky breath which betrayed her lingering nervousness. "What will we do if your boss doesn't-…?"
A grin, one which appeared both sinister and oddly sincere, appeared on his face. "Oh don't worry," he said, chuckling. "I have a plan."
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