Music Choices: Der Rote Reiter - Volcano Remix by Die Apokalyptischen Reiter, Baphomet by Zeal and Ardor, Never Gonna Stop by Rob Zombie, Hunter's Moon by Ghost
Author's Notes: Happy Halloween everyone.
Eclipse
Chapter 58
The Hunter's Moon
The Mirroways…
Song chords ripped through the ever-dark of the Mirrorways. The bones of the great halls shook and blurred with silver and vibrations so intense that less powerful entities were fleeing the region in droves, desperate to escape the catastrophic tidal waves of light and sound. Anything caught in the crossfire was quickly reduced to glittering ash.
The towering vistas were twisting in on themselves, contorting impossibly as they were pulled and directed by competing wills. Voices reverberated throughout the entirety of the Mirrorways, the ripples of their conflict felt across every connecting plane and then some. The chorus of competing voices were shaped by and shaping the very fabric of the magical plane, like a potter's hands molding clay, or a conductor weaving the musical structure of a symphony.
Occasionally, the space would warp entirely, redirecting around the focal points crafting the music that resonated throughout the very fabric of creation.
Three aetheri were battling, two against one. And the One was currently holding their own despite the odds.
The woman known to the free peoples as The Grimm Reaper was locked in blistering close combat with her opponent. Her weapons Vida and Muerte were a blur as she sang a promise of violence and retribution to the blank, oval mask across from her. The Blank One, their own weapon a staff crafted of Hard-Light Dust, spun and danced as they parried her strikes and sang their own promises - but not to her.
She might as well not even be there. The Reaper was just an obstacle to them, just as the other aetheri was.
Her companion was a strange one, a chieftain of one of the Vacuon free tribes; his true name was unknown to most, but he bore the mantle of Baphomet, his helm like that of the goat-headed Grimm called the Capricornus. Baphomet's song was nothing but pure, animalistic rage. Neither faunus nor humans made the vocalizations roaring from his throat, and it was a song that unsettled any that listened for long, Reaper included. Baphomet's voice embodied the red chord that wove through the base of one's spine - primal song and magic that drove even the most erudite to all fours to howl and roar like beasts and inspired berserker fury in his followers.
However, his own horrifying song did not impress the Blank One, nor did his twin axes coated in Fire Dust glyphs.
Suddenly, a burst of light and song ripped through the air, blinding the pair.
"Gah!" Reaper shielded her eyes again as the Blank One's spell went off. "Son of A-"
"GRAAAAAAOORRRR!" howled Baphomet, grasping at his own eyes in rage in pain as he was stunned briefly, having taken most of the spell head on.
The Blank One laughed their eerie chuckle, trying to once again escape them and flee further into the Mirrorways.
"Oh no you don't!" Maria shouted, locking onto their form with her voice. Her spell went off without a hitch, latching the fangs of her voice and power into the meat of their calves, tripping them. They retaliated instantly, their own voice sending needles of pain into her body before she could fully counter them; with an angry yelp, she let them go and to counter the spell sinking its thorns into her nervous system.
"GGRRRRRRAAAA- COME BACK HERE, WORM!" roared Baphomet, pursuing his prey on all fours, sprinting with wild abandon. "I'LL SKIN YOU ALIVE!"
The Blank One merely laughed their little giggle again and Baphomet snarled horribly as they suddenly sank their voice past his defenses. However, Baphomet shook it off with manic fury, pushing past the pain and continued ravenously after his prey, cackling and snarling as he hunted them.
"Stop running, nifling! Come back here and PLAY!"
Reaper wiped the tears out of her silver eyes furiously, aware that her exhaustion and frustration were getting the better of her. She'd hoped that by now they could have worn the Blank Bitch down, but such was not the case.
Instead, she was running on empty and Baphomet, despite his ability to push well beyond the limits of aura and physical exhaustion, was fairing little better. Instead, the Blank One was wearing them down, and would at this rate soon escape them both. Again.
Music twined around her feet, and Reaper dodged, flicking the tendrils away with her own song before backflipping over a sweep of white, the Hard-Light blade sizzling with deadly fluorescence. Dodging, leaping, swerving, ducking - she was supposed to be the hunter!
Yet here she was, feeling like the whole damn circus!
Anger twisting in her chest as she pursued the traitor, trying to get ahead of them, desperately engaging her Semblance to see some hint of what their next move was. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she got nothing but white noise; and they stayed just barely out of her reach and the teeth of her kamas.
Minutes smeared like hours as their weapons and voices tore frantically at each other. Every burning breath escaping her chest was an eternity without meaning or direction. There was only the present moment Reaper sang, as hard and viciously as she possibly could; the air shook and whipped around her, light burst and shuddered like the roots of lightning dancing over the ground that summoned it, and the ground buckled and curled under her feet in response to her direction.
She was a master of this domain. Everything here bent to her voice, save for the Guardians and the occasional, smart-mouthed Grimm. None of her peers in Vacuo could hold a candle to her power and few others in Remnant could genuinely hold their own against her magical might; and combined with her Semblance? Ha! Next to nothing could evade her for very long.
But the Blank One could, apparently.
And she didn't even know their real damn name.
Maria inhaled, trying to get a grip on her tumbling emotions as she could feel her prey slipping beyond her grasp once again. She twisted the space around, side-stepping so that she was under the Blank One's leaping figure and swiping upwards with Vida and Muerte; she struck aura, gritting her teeth in determination as she tried to bring them down to the ground.
A flash went off, as they dropped yet another mirror piece from their bandolier, teleporting to yet another region of the Mirrorways. Maria paused, re-evaluating; chasing them through their own pre-spelled piece would likely end in disaster, as it was easy enough to booby-trap them. That would be immensely foolish. It would be better, if more time consuming, to go the long way.
Baphomet dropped down next to the mirror piece, panting and heaving with exertion, his scarred, bare stave-painted torso low to the ground as he inspected the mirror-piece, sniffing loudly.
"They're backtracking," he growled, silver orbs flashing in his helm's eye-sockets.
"They're toying with us," Maria observed, her voice still vibrating with power. "Leading us in Dust damned circles."
"Mmmmheheheheh, well I'll be the one toying with them at the end of all this, I promise you that!" Baphomet rumbled, his voice raw and hoarse from his brutal screaming. "Let's get after them quickly!"
"We need a better strategy," Reaper insisted, trying to curb her extremely enthusiastic companion. "Something a little more clever than getting led around by our noses."
Baphomet gave her a nearly injured look, still crouched on the ground.
"You think something is wrong with my nose?" he grunted pridefully. "Absurd. I am the best tracker on Remnant. This is undeniable. "
"What- no, you dink, I'm saying we need to lead them to where we want for a change," Maria huffed irritably. "Whether we like it or not, they have us outpaced here."
"They are a fast little rabbit. With too many burrows," grumbled Baphomet thoughtfully, before turning a demanding gaze on her. "Why doesn't your Semblance work better on them!? Are you sick?"
Maria glared at him, before stowing her dual weapons for the moment; around her, the Mirrorways were sending her information at record speed, collaborating with her as she searched for an answer.
"I'm not sick, they're countering me somehow," Maria groused, closing her eyes as she listened to music in her head. "Could be their Semblance, or someone else's glyphs. Either way, I'll sort it out. But we need a better strategy going forward."
Baphomet snorted skeptically, before cocking his head and listening to the Mirroways himself. The spirits in the neighboring planes - those who had fled their battle and those who had come to watch from the sidelines as it were - were unusually talkative at the moment; gossiping about their fight, informing their potential masters of what they'd seen, and offering unsolicited advice. Most of the entities in the region were small fries and not worth listening to. Big fries did not thrive in this region for long, unless they served the warlock.
Imagery suddenly flooded her mind, of a skinchanger entering the Mirrorways via one of Maria's pre-spelled pieces. The skinchanger's astral corona was absolutely coated to the nines in wards of safe-keeping against the maddening effects of the Mirror-ways and obfuscation from larger spiritual predators. Maria instantly recognized her friend, knew she was trying to hail her, and was using the mirror piece to track Maria like sonar.
"A friend of yours is here," Baphomet opened his glowing eyes suddenly, twisting in the direction of the mirror piece.
"I am aware," Maria hummed blithely, still trying to concentrate.
"I was not aware you had friends," Baphomet observed bluntly. "Are they not a liability? The Reaper has many enemies."
Maria ignored him, unwilling to entertain this conversation with this individual in particular.
She didn't have friends. She had one, technically, because Ciara was too stubborn and too accustomed to wrangling antisocial dickheads to be phased by anything Maria said or put up with her bullshit; she was also completely unimpressed with her status and power like the other aetheri and magic users scampering around the Mirrorways. Ciara did like to ask her for favors at times, but she always paid her back and wasn't usually a prat about it; and it's not like Maria didn't ask her for help on things, either, though she'd never admit such.
"Should send her away. They'll kill her to taunt you," Baphomet grunted, scratching his helmed head with his bare foot.
"They'll have a time of it then. She's tougher than she looks," Maria insisted, still retrieving as much intel as she could.
Still. Now was a bad time for anyone to be running about in the Mirrorways, tough or no.
Maria pulled the pre-spelled mirror piece to her, her song resonating in the piece and warping it through space to answer her summons. The piece was currently attached via leather necklace to a little ginger fox, who was grinning playfully up at her, unphased by being suddenly teleported half-way across the Speculorum.
Said fox suddenly cackled maniacally, dashing around Maria's feet, bushy tail waving enthusiastically.
"Nyeehehe hehehehe!"
"Nya ha ha ha, to you too, weirdo," Maria rolled her eyes at the ginger's antics, unable to hide her slight smile. "Ciara, listen, this is terrible timing. It's really not safe to be out here right now. I'm going to send you home."
The fox paused, still grinning, before shifting promptly into a tall, wildly ginger woman that was poking her square in the sternum. It was a gesture that none else likely would have dared, and was completely par for the course.
"When is this place ever fuckin safe, Maria? Riddle me that, ya smarmy wee cunt?" Ciara teased playfully, hands on her hips, before promptly sweeping around to address Baphomet. Maria made a face. "Hello, we haven't met yet! You must be the new Baphomet! I don't think you and the rest of the Mavres Katsikes weren't at the tribes-moot this summer?"
Baphomet blinked at this sudden greet, staring at her outstretched hand, before shaking it with an iron grip. Ciara's hand did not crumple nor did she wince, just stared at him expectantly. Baphomet remembered he was supposed to say something.
"We had troubles," he grunted, still squatting on his hindquarters. "But they have been defeated."
"Ah, well I'm glad to hear it!" Ciara smiled warmly. "I always hear tales about how strong the Mavres Katsikes are - if something was giving you lot trouble, then I'm sure it would have been trouble for all of us!"
Baphomet did not visibly puff up at this flattery, but his eyes glowed significantly brighter. Maria snorted.
"Seriously, we're on a schedule," she started, listening to the chords of distant song echoing through the Mirrorways. "Spare us the politics and get to the point, what do you want? Because I know you want something."
"Fine, fine, you caught me!" the healer waved, utterly unashamed. "I do need a favor, and I'll definitely owe ya for it after this, but I was hoping you could verify something important for us? A prophecy was sung that is quite relevant to, well, all free and magical peoples to be very frank - but unfortunately it's coming from a source a bit too suspicious to accept outright."
Maria sighed in irritation.
"Look, I seriously do not have time for it right now. We're in the middle of hunting someone extremely dangerous-"
"The Blank One, yes?" the Branwen woman smiled. "Ha, such a goofy title. Did they pick it? Nooo, I bet the goobers in that guild named them that didn't they?"
A beat.
Maria folded her arms, suspicions rising.
"You know of them?" she prompted, glad that her mask concealing her expression.
"Oh a little! But this should interest you then! They're the ones that sang the prophecy!" Ciara declared cheerfully. "And I need to know if it's the real deal or not."
Baphomet made an odd noise, while Maria stared in shock.
"How - wait, how did you get a prophecy out of them?" she started, pressing a few fingers to the side of her mask thoughtfully.
"I didn't, a friend of mine did," Ciara admitted with a smile, and it clicked.
"That little fucking gremlin?!" Maria growled, silver eyes flashing angrily. "Dust, now I get it - do you know what he traded to get your prophecy? They know where Harpocrates is now, Ciara! You're stupid familiar has royally fucked us!"
"Don't call him that," Ciara warned, her tone cooling dangerously.
"Fine, your charming little man-eater!" Maria waved a hand flippantly.
Ciara glared, a spark of danger there that Maria was quite familiar with. The woman did not abide perceived genuine insults towards her family or anyone or thing she'd managed to pack-bond with, from her tribe up to and including man eating little Grimmlins.
"He's a kid, Maria, get over yourself."
"HE'S A FUCKING GRIMM!" Maria shouted, wanting to shake her shoulders. "I get that you feel bad for it, but that's not a child anymore! He's DEAD! What's running around is just a puppet for the witch now! She can see through him and take him over no matter how many wards you slap on him like a bumper-sticker - he isn't real! Intelligent Grimm, or whatever stupid thing they call themselves, are not real people! They aren't who they were in real life! It's a trick of the witch!"
There had been a point in her life where Maria had thought the way that Ciara had; but she'd learned her lesson the hard way, and was lucky enough to survive. Most people were not so fortunate.
"One day, you're going to look that thing in the face, and in that moment you're going to realize that what's looking back isn't just a Grimm," Maria insisted, stepping closer. "That it is her looking at you and putting on a puppet show with a spirit's corpse. And now she knows everything about you and the people you care about, because you let her walk in the fucking front door."
Ciara's arms folded as she appraised her, a familiar expression on her face.
"You know?" she started after a moment. "I've heard that type of fear-bait come out of other people's mouths before. But each time? They were always talking that way about some faction of the living."
Maria's jaw dropped in outrage. Baphomet meanwhile was actually eating a piece of jerky had pulled out of his pocket, watching this interaction with interest.
"That is not remotely the same thing!" Maria exclaimed, feeling legitimately offended. "In fact, that is the must insulting comparison I think anyone could make, so bravo!"
"It's a pretty small step actually," Ciara shrugged. "The living and the dead are still just people, and your argument can be, and often are, applied to both. You should be more aware of that."
The ginger looked pointedly at Maria's weapons and then her mask.
Maria could feel the silver vibrating in her throat angrily, before she turned away.
"Right, I don't have time to be lectured about such a non-issue as Grimm feelings or whatever," she quipped flippantly, a nauseous feeling in her gut reminding her of another conversation, years old now. "The Blank One has to be stopped and there's other shit afoot that actually matters."
"Aye, I suppose that is also true," Ciara conceded, looking around the Mirrorways. "I'm assuming you'd risk being out this way for reasons more than just hunting them, though, surely. Considering where we are and all."
Maria paused, giving her friend yet another suspicious glance. Ciara was notoriously nosy and the gremlin was already keeping an eye on things for her in this region and had likely talked. It was likely this was her way of 'checking up' on her and there was a possibility she already knew about-
She has kids at Beacon. They might be able to reach her. Or get her stupid little ass out of there before it's too late.
Maria paused. Baphomet, meanwhile, was growing increasingly more antsy, ready to be after his prey once again.
"We continue the hunt?" he asked eagerly. "I want to make bootlaces of their entrails!"
Maria didn't even blink at that statement, well accustomed to the wild ass shit Baphomet said on the regular. Ciara, well accustomed to the wild ass shit her own people would say, also did not flinch at this statement.
"Hold on, Baph," Maria muttered, before turning back. "Alright, spill it. What do you know ?"
"Yer mum," Ciara grinned merrily.
An annoyed flicker.
"I am not above leaving your ass trapped out here," Maria insisted after a pause. She never should have taught Ciara mom jokes, considering the woman never grew out of them.
"Psh, like I couldn't find my way home," Ciara waved nonchalantly, making a show of looking around. "Oh, see, yea I recognize that pillar! That's my favorite pillar right there!"
"You should not rely on landmarks for navigating here," Baphomet started, his rough growl sincerely concerned.
"She knows, she's just fucking with us," Maria sighed long sufferingly. "Please tell me what you know about this and how? Because I'm not trying to broadcast my business all over the Mirrorways."
"Probably more than you'd like," Ciara admitted with some chagrin. "Mostly, I just know that your apprentice is in some serious trouble. And that's likely why you took this job on for the Stygian Mirror, to help them out with their traitor, so you could get away from Vacuo and have someone to cover your responsibilities. But this hunt is proving a lot more time consuming than you predicted."
Maria counted internally to five before speaking again.
"Waiting tell you all that, did he?"
"No," Ciara smiled impetuously. "Just some of it."
Maria glared saltily, before shaking her head.
"Fine, whatever, yes. They hired me and Baphomet to bring them in. Considering everything else the little fucker has done and threatened to do, even if this other shi t wasn't happening, I would have done it," Maria admitted, turning as she heard yet another song-chord.
It wasn't one she recognized, but it was also too close for her to dismiss it outright; and their voice's frequency betrayed that the aetheri was in the present with them, and was not some long ago echo, or future backwash.
What other fool is running around out here? All this traffic is going to catch his attention at this rate, no doubt about it. And that is the last confrontation I need right now.
Needless to say, the Reaper and Ozpin did not get along. Dust, Maria couldn't even set foot in Beacon without it turning into a fight for her life. Otherwise, she would have already dipped in and snagged her little idiot out of there. No, if her apprentice continued to ignore her summons, she would have to find another means of extracting her safely.
The newcomer's voice reverberated across the Mirrorways interwoven throughout Vale. They sounded young, and still fairly uncertain of their full abilities; but Maria could hear the tidal force behind that voice, and it actually surprised her.
Huh! That kid has some oomph!
Meanwhile, Baphomet whipped towards the newcomer, sniffing and rumbling with silver menace.
"I don't know this voice," he growled suspiciously, silver orbs narrowing. "They better not interfere!"
"Let's not give them the opportunity, then," Maria quipped, attaching her weapons to her belt. "I think we should regroup and then try again with a better plan, because what we've tried so far has failed."
Baphomet snarled something unintelligible, looking like he was about to tear off into the halls of the Speculorum on his own; which, it's not like she was going to stop him. He was an adult and a tribal chief and could do whatever the hells he wanted.
However, the Blank One had killed three other aetheri so far - all members of the Stygian Mirror, yes; but all powerful enough in their own right. She hated to admit it, but they were dangerous; they would be better to face with allies than alone.
Ciara, whose head had tilted as she listened to the new song rolling throughouts the halls, smiled a little mysteriously before grinning fully once again.
"Well I don't know about you two, but I for one am starving! And I hear that Southern Vale has some decent Vacuoan cuisine," she floated the idea. "We can avoid this person and replenish. Two for one."
Baphomet paused, his interest peaked.
"Food?" he grunted hopefully, turning back towards them.
"I guess food doesn't sound terrible," Maria admitted wryly, before glancing at her friend. "I assume you are expecting an invite?"
"You are so bloody rude!" Ciara laughed aloud, hands on her hips. "I swear! I live with some of the rudest people on Remnant, but you are ruder than most of them by leagues!"
"Thanks! I know I've got some serious competition, so I try to up my game whenever possible," Maria smirked.
"Competition for what?! Being the biggest gobshite on the planet?!" Ciara scoffed.
"Well not to point fingers or anything," Maria started, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips. "But your wife probably has that title, considering she has one hell of a rude-ass reputation. For now anyways, I can't let her win at everything."
Ciara laughed, her eyes crinkling in genuine pleasure as she thought about that hellbeast she was essentially hitched to.
"One, we are not married. Two, 'my wife' is not a braggart or rude by tribe standards unless provoked , which I know you are well aware of and do so intentionally - And three! Let her win my arse, she beats you and you and your ego get right pissed over it!"
Maria chuckled. It was fun to ruffle the Morrigan's feathers when she could; and it had nothing to do with trying to show the other woman up whenever possible.
"Uh, actually, I think just breathing in her general vicinity might provoke her, tribe standards or no," she teased, dodging a swat directed at the back of her head. "And you've already admitted the Branwen are rude as fuck, what's with this double standard?"
"Keep feckin around and talkin shit, Maria," Ciara warned, eying her fiercely. "See what happens!"
"What?" Maria snickered. "You talk shit at each other all the time, what's the big deal?"
"When we do it, it's flirting, ya dafty!"
"Uh oh, can't let her think we're doing that," Maria continued ahead into the resonant dark, still grinning impishly below her half mask. "Don't wanna wind up in a landfill!"
"Ach, don't flatter yerself," Ciara scoffed. "I have standards."
Maria laughed again, shaking her head as she pulled her own mirror pieces out.
Years and years ago, perhaps, that potential had been there; but Maria had decided to focus solely on her duties as the Grimm Reaper, and withdrawn from such potential connections.
Rarely, Maria would wonder what would have happened if she had taken a different path; but she would quickly be reminded of why she had chosen this one. Stopping threats like the Blank One, or the witch's servants, or protecting the magic users and spirits of the world from those that would harm them - they took priority over anything else; and her victories over such forces always brought her the greatest satisfaction.
She glanced down at the glittering, circular piece in her brown palm, her pupiless eyes glowing with ethereal power through the holes of her mask.
Every ounce of power has a price that must be paid if you're going to claim it for yourself. If you want something? You're going to have to sacrifice something else to have it. She'd learned that young and didn't regret her personal decisions when it came to pursuing her goals. Usually.
The voice of the stranger continued to vibrate curiously through the halls as Maria flipped her pre-spelled mirror piece, singing the activation deep in her throat; she didn't look back to see if the others were following her. The piece went off and when the light and song faded, the trio were gone. All that remained was the song of the newcomer, exploring their domain.
The Kingdom of Vale….
It was a cool evening, the soft bite of fall sinking into people's skin and lungs, their breath drifting in gentle clouds as they strode down the sidewalks towards restaurants and bars. The crowds weren't as big as they were during the summer, but there were still plenty of people out and about. No one paid much mind to the three young people making their way to one of the theaters. The trio were dressed like students from the local college and were engaged in their own conversation, playfully arguing about video games, totally lost in their own little world and paying no attention to the crowds or people around them.
Ahead of them by about fifty feet, a middle-aged gentleman was walking with the crowd. He was dressed a bit like a maintenance worker or janitor on his way home. The students paused as one of their friends dropped something, and the little group paused to tease her for her clumsiness. The man continued heedlessly, pausing at the intersection as the lights turned and, instead of going straight across the crosswalk, took a left down an emptier street. The college kids eventually passed by, going along the crosswalk and excitedly darting towards the theater on the corner; they didn't look after the man and seemed to have no awareness of him whatsoever.
The man similarly did not seem aware of them as he headed for an aging brick apartment building near an overpass. His hands were shoved casually in his pockets, his pace unconcerned but single minded in his focus to get to where he was going. He did not look up, or see the shadow trailing him at a distance across the rooftops.
He stumped up the crumbling steps to the building's front door, and let himself in, shutting the door. The shadow paused, hiding behind a ledge for several long minutes. They didn't move any closer, but had a vantage point that allowed them to see the building's two exits, the front door and the side door that led into the alleyway.
When the man did not reappear, the shadow went to work, setting up several small security cameras, concealing them from view and ensuring they were recording video of the exits, and the streets surrounding the shadow then walked to the opposite end of the rooftop, turned, and sprinted towards the ledge; and soundlessly pushed off, a soft spark of aura boosting their muscles as they sprang across the gap and landed on the building's gently sloped roof. They made no noise as they landed in an expert crouch on the flat rooftop.
More devices came out of a black backpack, including something quite unique and definitely not available on the Valish or Atlassian civilian white-markets; a non-linear junction detector, with a range and strength that allowed the user to locate electronics or listening devices whether said devices were on or not.
The shadow went to work, and quickly found the brick building's own hidden security cameras, which were all professionally concealed and covered the entirety of the roof and even the sky above it; instead of being concerned about being recorded, they simply exposed the cameras to their scroll. A flash of bright blue aura popped each time, and the cameras glowed for a brief moment before returning to normal. This all took a few minutes at most, before the shadow was packing up again.
A moment later, they were leaping back to the neighboring building, leaving not a trace of their presence save for the quiet little cameras recording in the cool night air.
"Mwahahahaha," Reinhardt cackled quietly to himself in the back of the theater. "Yessss, Natty, yessss. Get em! Get his toys!"
ARSN had technically moved ahead of schedule, wanting to start gathering information on the man named Verdant Crom Cruach despite certain other factors being unresolved. Such as Sigyn, Summer, Raven and Tormund needing to have their talk about the appropriateness of planning assassinations without everyone's knowledge; and other fun things. However, the team had grown restless from the stressfulness of the last several days and needed to do something to feel productive; and what's more relaxing and productive than spying on genocidal maniacs with your buddies?
It hadn't really even been that hard for them to find Verdant, especially with their talents. They'd already known what he looked like, his name and where he worked; with Reinhardt's Semblance, and the other's footwork, it had been total cake to find one of the routes Verdant would take after work. They'd collectively decided to see if they could access some of his personal devices, seeing how he didn't carry any on him when he was on castle grounds. Accessing his personal devices would allow them to know more about his full schedule and resources; the more details about him, the better, and the easier it would be to plan something.
"Shhh," Argent hushed through a mouthful of popcorn, shoveling more into his mouth as he watched the zombie flick. Next to him, Sigyn was stealing fistfuls of popcorn and the majority of it was making it to the floor more so than her gullet.
"Annnnd we are in business," Reinhardt snickered, slurping his energy drink and soda concoction out of a popcorn bucket he had reappropriated. "Give me your toys, old man. What are you hiding in here? And will I be able to unsee it?"
He had a pair of shades on to conceal his eyes, and slumped a little as he projected his mind into Verdant's security network, scurrying about like a digital racoon in an electronic trash bin. The cameras on the roof gave him access to the Serviceman's setup in the loft apartment below, which was an amateur's error. In a general sense, it was pretty well protected, but something felt off about it as Reinhardt charged about, searching for details about the man.
There was a stale flavor to this guy's so-called personal electronics that Reinhardt associated with disuse. The scroll had been used, but in a way that was inorganic. Calculated. The computer had nothing on it that spoke of a personal schedule or life or human connections or interests. These things were often gateways into a person's heart and mind, in his opinion, because they revealed the most intimate parts of a person and the things they cared about.
There was no intimacy here. Just clinical cold masquerading as something personal for a distant observer, like a display house full of fake furniture.
This guy was….a shell.
Reinhardt felt his skin break out in goosebumps. He knew he shouldn't be surprised, but the reality of just who and what they were dealing with was beginning to hit home now that he was confronted with him.
"Uhh, guys?" he started, speaking quietly through his scroll's speaker.
"What's up?" Sigyn muttered next to him.
"I'm not sure," Reinhardt continued, feeling fully unnerved. "But I am extra spooked right now."
"Think we're made?" Argent asked quietly.
"I dunno, but I feel like I am in a serial killer's basement at the moment and I am so whigged out," Reinhardt gushed. "I'm gonna check on-"
"Ya know, I never really got the point of these movies," a voice drawled behind them.
Reinhardt pulled himself back into his body so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash; both Sigyn and Argent had turned back to stare at the man sitting behind them. The man was eating a bag of caramel candies casually, his rust red stare fixed on the screen; the heroes of the flick were desperately trying to escape the bloodthirsty horde of rotting corpses chasing them into a building.
"Seriously," Verdant grunted, shaking the bag and digging more candy out. "If ya'll wanna see some actual hordes of man-eating dead, all ya gotta do is go outside more. It's right on the other side of those walls, ya know - actually, I gotta theory about this! Wanna hear it?"
The trio watched Verdant tensely; the only person who had access to a weapon was Sigyn, who had multiple Dust blades hidden in her long jacket. However, they were also in a crowded theater and the man confronting them was a public servant. Making the first move in this scenario would end in their arrests or eventual deaths, without doubt.
"I think that Kingdom's make these types of flicks to paint an element of ahhh, fantasy or whatever, over the idea of the hungry dead," Verdant insisted, before reaching over, taking Reinhardt's drink out of his hands and taking a big sip. He promptly made a face and handed it back to him. "Gah, damn kid, that shit is awful - anyways. I think these movies make folks less afraid of monsters, or kinda tricks ya'll into thinking that the things at the Gates aren't exactly real. Ya know? Makes Grimm less scary, which I guess helps keep the fear down, which is good. But it also makes ya'll less likely to believe the truth about them. I believe that's calculated and I don't think it helps people in the long run. Think it makes them complacent."
Sigyn's hands were itching to reach into her coat, her eyes kaleidoscoping between a range of colors while Reinhardt tried to hail Natalia on her scroll; and realized he could not.
SHIT-
"What the fuck are you talking about, man?" Argent asked, glaring at him. "Get out of here and leave us alone. We don't know you."
Verdant chewed on some more candy nonchalantly, leaning back as he watched a zombie get it's head battered to pieces by one of the protagonists on screen.
"Chill kid, I'm just talkin. That's not a crime - unlike trying to bug a Servicemember's house, that is a crime, actually. Just so ya'll know," Verdant chuckled, glancing down at the three of them in supreme amusement.
"Where is-" Reinhardt started, sounding nervous, when Sigyn elbowed him quickly.
Don't talk to him, right. Admit nothing.
"Where is what?" Verdant prompted smiling. The smile didn't reach his eyes.
Holllly shit this dude's got bodies in his fucking basement for sure!
"The um...the bathroom?" Reinhardt asked, clearing his throat and holding up the bucket of go-juice. "I drank too much."
"I'll say," Verdant jerked his head back towards the exit. "It's down the hall to the right."
"Cool. Uh, kay. Let's go pee, everyone," Reinhardt suggested. Argent stood up, still glaring at the Serviceman as Sigyn grabbed Reinhardt by the elbow and began to move them quickly out of range, her eyes searching rapidly for signs of other threats in the area. Argent didn't move until his teammates had cleared the door, and then followed after them, watching their backs and flanks.
Verdant waved without looking back at them, kicking his feet up on the now empty seats in front of him and snacking on the candy.
"Have fun! Don't fall in!"
The trio scooted out into the hall and barely kept from running for the exit. As they entered the alley, Reinhardt let out a noise like air from a balloon.
"DUDEWHATTHEFUCK!"
"Natty, pick up," Sigyn muttered, her own sparkly scroll in hand as she tried to call her partner. "Come onnnnn, GIRL pick up-"
"What are you idiots doing out here?" droned a familiar voice. Natty had manifested as if summoned, dropping down from the theater's roof with the black backpack; she had changed into street-clothes.
Reinhardt threw his hands up and instantly pulled the gunwoman into a crushing hug. Nat was too surprised by this breach in protocol to break all his bones in retribution.
"Um-" she started, eyes wide, until Sigyn also joined the hugging and all the air was squished from her lungs.
"Creepy dude made us," Argent explained, keeping an eye on their surroundings while her teammates nearly strangled her in relief. The alley was empty save for the four of them, or at least appeared to be so. "We need to get out of here, right now."
Natalia managed to free herself from hugging, and inhaled sharply as they started to hurry out of the alley.
"Your scroll wasn't working, I think he's jamming it or something-" Reinhardt started, feeling a little embarrassed.
"No shit, I turned it off," Natalia explained impatiently. "If one of you called and it rang? Instant give away. This is basics. Look, we need to go separate ways and meet up at the spot. Ok?"
The others were giving her a variety of shaken looks and Natalia paused.
"Ok?" she repeated. "Like we talked about? Keep it together."
Argent cleared his throat and nodded. Reinhardt and Sigyn recovered and followed suit. The four exited the alleyway into the crowds and then separated, heading for the busiest sections of Vale at night. After a few moments, the man exited into the alleyway at a lazy pace.
He tilted his head back and took a deep breath, sniffing out the different trails.
"Hmmm. Which way should I go," he murmured, sounding amused. "Eeny, meeny, miny - ah! Haha. Moe."
With a soft hum, Verdant tossed the empty candy box into the garbage bin to his right and strolled out into the street, before quickly vanishing into the crowds himself.
Above the streets of Vale, the shattered moon was rising, larger than she typically appeared, and nearly orange in the city haze. Everywhere in the city, medical and emergency workers were eying that rising moon with a feeling of dread. They knew they were going to have a busy night of it, and they weren't wrong. It was a Hunter's Moon after all.