To know someone, it's always best to start from the very beginning.
_
It was a very romantic story. A peasant man, one who grew in the slums, fell in love with a noble woman. They didn't live in the same world. One of eternal galas and glittering silver and gold, and one of rotting wood, empty pockets, and emptier stomachs.
Oh, but it was a very romantic story, so of course the noble woman fell in love too.
They both knew that life will be hard, and that, really, the man will never be able to provide even a drop of the extravagance she grew up in.
But they were in love.
And they were in love.
So the woman left with him in the wake of the night.
In stories, that would've been the end.
Three years later, worn and miserable, the woman returned to her home and begged her parents to take her back. Easily, they welcomed her with open arms and the woman unrepentantly threw herself to them.
Viper was the unsaid part. The daughter of a noble and a peasant.
She watched the joyful reunion between family from her place half concealed behind a wall and it never even occured to her that she belonged with them.
Viper's first blood was that of her own mother's.
(She always thought there was something very romantic with tragedies, moments that only lasted a second before the sweet words and soft sighs were dashed away.)
_
It was the usual ruckus of a market place on a market day. Vendors would scream their products and wares, making it a contest between each other on who's voice would stand out more and rally the prospective buyers. Murmurs buzzed about as the people walked around, considering and contemplating of what to spend their money on.
Compared to the voices that plagued her though, it was mere white noise. It had always been clearer than anything else reality could present to her. And the colours of the world paled in comparison to what her eyes could see. A perpetual state of doubting which was real, always just at edge and at the risk of falling and falling and falling as the line blurs. A careful balance between two worlds.
That was what being an Esper meant.
Viper heard his voice before he even made up his mind to call out to her. She stopped and abruptly turned, taking enjoyment at the startled squawk that cut through the crowd between them. She waited for him to reach her because she was nice that way and she was in a good mood.
"I hate it when you do that." He grumbled, giving her the stink eye.
Viper shrugged, "Your fault for reacting like that every time. I would've thought you'd gotten used to it by now."
He huffed.
Her lips quirked, "So, was there something you wanted?"
"Don't you know already? Didn't you already read my mind or something?" he said moodily.
Viper rolled her eyes beneath her cowl.
"I don't read minds."
She could, but that's just rude. There were lines.
Perking up at that, because he always liked knowing something she didn't and that happened very rarely, he bounced in his place, acting more like the stereotypical teenaged girl with the latest hottest gossip than Viper ever had.
And she was literally a fifteen year old girl who always had the latest hottest gossip. People paid her millions for those little bits of information. That was her shtick.
"Someone's searching for you."
"...And how is that any special?"
They moved out of the hustle and bustle of the crowd. They walked until the traffic thinned remarkably and took an outdoor table of a cafe. They ordered and dismissed the waiter. He was practically bursting in the seams the whole time.
"It's the yakuza!" He blurted out.
Viper's known haunts were a bit more to the west, "A bit far, yes, but that doesn't warrant that much excitement. I do sometimes take jobs there."
"Yeah, but it's not always that they're searching for you with a sky in tow."
...indeed. Not always. Not anymore.
The waiter set their drinks on the table between them. Viper determined that her iced lemonade (and her companion's drink too) was clear of anything lethal and sighed at the coolness that slid down her throat. She liked Australia. She really did.
But some days, it was just hot.
In her much earlier days in the Mafia, when she was shooting up through ranks, too green to know better and too good in her job for her to notice that she was good, Skies had flocked to her in an attempt to tie her down to their respective groups while she's still fresh and easy to cultivate loyalty in and she'd blasted through them. She recalled revelling in the knowledge that no one was strong enough to bond with her and take her freedom from her.
And then when they realized the same, they began sending droves of assassins and hitmans her way. The typical, If I can't have you then no one else should, kind of mentality. She'd either send them back in pieces or just slip through their fingers.
It had been the climax of her childhood. One giant game of It. When everyone finally got the hint, they began leaving her alone, Skies steering clear from her because she killed anyone who even had the audacity to try.
Now in her teens, it had been years since the last attempt. They had guts at least.
She hummed, watching cars drive by, "Is that so."
His shoulder slumped and he scowled at her, "Seriously? That's all you're going to say? I've been looking forward to telling you this for weeks and that's all I get? I expected something more."
Exactly why she was keeping any reaction she might have under wraps. Because Viper liked ruining people's satisfactions.
He guzzled down his coca cola.
"What about you? Anything new?" because the older boy was her only friend and quite possibly her 'best friend' too and she did like listening to him yak on about his days no matter how long-winded they could be sometimes.
(It kept her grounded, these pieces of interaction that pulled her to the now and here, right here, right here, here, here, and the voices are pushed back and she has the certainty even for just a moment that yes this was reality, your world, not the abyss of voices and intangible eyes that watched everything- you're your own person not jus a part of the river-)
He shrugged, leaning back in his seat to people watch with her, "Fine. There's still few weeks before I go on the next world tour. The usual rush to get everything done and my guys are panicking as always as if they're the ones who'd have to fly through a flaming hoop or something."
"Anyone bothering you?"
The waiter served them their meals.
"Nope. S'pretty quiet these days."
Viper smirked, "They would be after what you did."
He groaned, face reddening, "How did you even know about that? I've been trying to forget that. It was so embarrassing."
She raised an eyebrow, "How is going berserk, pulling an electric pole from the ground, and swinging it around like a deranged monkey embarrassing?"
He gave her the look she deserved for that. He opened his mouth, to snark something most likely, but he was cut off by the ringing in his pocket. It was an alarm.
His face went 'oh!' and he jumped from his seat, pushing his chair back and almost tripping on his own feet.
"Shit! I almost forgot! I have to go now Vipes, my guys and I are getting on a ship for Indonesia, take care!"
"See you later Skull." She called out after him.
Skull was almost out to the streets when the waiter that had served them jerked him back by his collar.
"Wha-?!"
"Sir, you forgot to pay your bill!"
The tightness around his eyes clearly said that he didn't believe that Skull simply 'forgot'. Skull blinked.
"What? But my friend-"
There was no one in the table. Nothing to suggest that Viper had ever been present.
Skull couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. He just sighed and rummaged around his pockets for some change.