Due to recent kidnapping developments, Ford was currently rifling through the Journalism Library's archived newspapers.
He had left early that morning, partially to avoid Stan, but mostly to get some much needed information. He couldn't risk winding up in another situation like yesterday again, caught completely unaware.
Whoever Oswald was, he had to find out, as well as a general knowledge of the other criminals. There was no telling who exactly knew Stanley, but he could at least find out enough to keep himself out of avoidable danger.
The library had an excess of newspapers archived, several of which had crime-related front pages. Not a surprise. He found himself pausing at the third or so newspaper he pulled out though.
Scarecrow Causes Asylum Riots with Gas Leak Then Escapes
The black and white picture showed patients swarmed into the halls of what had to be the Asylum.
He started reading the article with a frown, but stopped and set the newspaper aside. He could read specifics later after he'd picked out enough newspapers. Ford resumed scanning through the titles, picking up a fair amount as he went.
Arson… Joker… Burglary… The Riddler… Oswald-
Ford quickly pulled out the paper the instant he saw the name, holding it in his hands as he voraciously read through the article.
Oswald Cobblepot Buys Out Club Competitors
'Ex-criminal'… recently bought out three more clubs under fishy circumstances… one can only suspect ulterior motives… notoriously suspected of continued heists despite Penguin's claims of ignorance… states that recent deals were part of a "strategic business move"… one can only wonder which business he means.
This had to be him.
Ford set the paper on the small stack before searching for more again. No stopping, just pick them out based on skimmed titles.
Once he left the library his book bag was filled solely with newspapers of various crimes scattered over the last couple years. He went through the office door, locking it after him before organizing all the papers into piles. Unsolved crimes, cooperative crimes, then finally all of the named criminals. Penguin, Scarecrow, Joker, Poison Ivy, and so on. He had to pile the newspapers over his research to have enough room for it all. His eyes kept flashing onto the pile for Oswald the more it grew.
Finally, he flung the last paper onto its pile and grabbed the papers about Oswald. He mentally compiled every important detail he could find out about the man as he read through.
Oswald Cobblepot was primarily referred to as the Penguin. Although there was no direct explanation, seeing a picture of the portly man in a black and white suit was enough to understand the alias. Thankfully, it also explained the horrendous number of fish-related puns.
He was an old money businessman that 'had been' a criminal. There were even a couple of articles from the supposed end of his criminal phase only a year and half ago or so. His crimes seemed to have hinged upon various heists and robberies.
As of currently, he owned a club called the Iceberg Lounge along with a few other establishments. There were some brief mentions of him supposedly associating with various criminals, although none of it was entirely confirmed. All things considered though, Ford fully believed the claims.
He was almost a bit disappointed that he didn't see Stan's name pop up even a single time. Then again, newspapers didn't quite feel the need to mention an employee by name. Much less when the story was actually noteworthy enough to be talked about. He began to read through the stack about the Joker, skipping over Jonathan's articles for the time being. He didn't get very far through the stack before it was time for his chemistry lecture though so he decided to bring a few with him. It wouldn't be that hard to double task.
With a few minutes until class he walked into the room and down the steps past the seats to the front of the class. There seemed to be a lot more murmuring than usual, though that could have been due to anything. Students murmured to one another all the time, Ford reminded himself.
Noticeably though, one student nudged his classmate on the arm to cause the other to look back. As Ford passed by, he saw one of them handing cash to the other with a frown. Even putting aside the knowledge of the brief moment of one of Bill's eyes being present, that exchange was still unsettling.
Ford set his stuff down at the front of the class, attempting to read a newspaper as he waited the last few minutes. He couldn't stay focused though, especially once he realized that only half of the class had apparently bothered to show.
He picked at the grain of the wood, barely waiting. He started the class calmly, mentioning where they left off before immediately asking the question. "Does anybody know why there's significantly fewer of you than usual?"
There was a few stunted seconds of silence before someone spoke up. "I think everyone kinda thought class would be cancelled today."
Ford glanced to the student that spoke up, confused. "What? Why?"
She made a slight face, hesitating. "Well, a bunch of us saw one of Scarecrow's guys chasing after you and… figured you quit after that."
"You saw-" Then Ford vaguely recalled the small crowd outside the building, waiting for the fire alarm to stop so they could go back in. Maybe if he just ignored that they'd think it wasn't him- or oh! He had it! Ford purposefully rolled his eyes before talking. "Well, class isn't cancelled so it's a good thing you showed up."
A hand near the middle of class and Ford reluctantly called on them. "Yes?"
"Hey, so what happened? Did you just outrun the guy or were there some police around the corner or what?"
Ford immediately stalled to think. "What's your name?"
"Uh, Reggie."
"Reggie," he said, "you can't always trust what you hear from others." Ford paused, glancing off momentarily in thought. "Actually, you shouldn't trust what you hear in most cases. However, that goes even more so for rumors." Granted, in this case it was true, but he would rather avoid confirming as such. He doubted very many of the students here had criminal connections, but the last thing he wanted was to draw any attention to himself.
Ford saw another hand raise and quickly tapped at the board, pretending to not have seen it, quickly evading. "Now, today's lesson."
Stan wasn't an idiot. Well- he wasn't an idiot when it came to people.
Ford and him both had weird schedules, so it wasn't that not seeing him for a day or two was necessarily off. However, he had a feeling Ford was avoiding him lately. The actual kicker was how ford was when they were both in the apartment again. There was Ford being quiet, then there was Ford being quiet wholly because he was upset.
He didn't outright ignore Stan though so that was at least something. Stan made small comments here and there, nothing that needed actual feedback though. With how sour Ford seemed, he wasn't expecting anything.
"Stanley."
"Yeah, what's up?" Stan checked over to see his brother not even looking at him.
Ford was frowning slightly, though it almost looked more out of concentration than anything else. "Do you-" he stopped. For a stretched out second, he seemed on the edge to say something. Then he let out an almost imperceptible breath. "Do you know of any occult in Gotham?" He finally asked.
Oh… right. Well, figures that Ford had already found out about the cults. "Uh, yeah, actually." Stan answered, glancing briefly away from him.
"Wait, really?" Ford finally looked at him, surprised.
Okay, Ford didn't need to be this shocked that he admitted to the cult thing. "Heh, not personally, but yeah. There's one or two cults here."
"What kind?" Ford asked without hesitation.
One side of Stan's face scrunched up. That was a good question. "Not really sure on that." He told him honestly. "General spookums stuff, apparently they hang out in this one building at the east side of town. Then I think there's one with…" he struggled to recall. "I don't know," he gestured noncommittally, looking back at him, "something to do with cats, if I'm remembering right."
"Wait a second," Ford said, a realization striking, "you said a cult in Gotham was ridiculous!"
So... Ford hadn't actually known about the cults apparently judging by his reactions. Probably was just asking the question offhandedly or something. "Well, not to split hairs, but I didn't say that exactly." He had definitely implied that though.
Ford just started at him, letting his shoulder slump and looking fed up just from the one excuse.
Stan relented, leveling with him. "Okay, look – you were pretty off your rocker that day. You did almost shoot me with a crossbow, Ford." He reminded him, leaning against the counter. "No offense, but no way in Hell was I about to go and tell you about some underground cults."
"Well, now would be a good time to tell me anything you didn't back then, wouldn't it?" Ford said, almost a bit too quick for it to not be pointed at something .
No, he was probably just irritated about the cult deal. Or his recent sour mood was kicking in. Admittedly, Stan probably should have told him about the cults considering the whole demon deal going on. "Okay, okay," he said, thinking for a second.
Immediately, the one popped up, letting Ford know he was a little involved in the criminal side of things. Definitely not high on the list of what he wanted to tell him, but it was at the top on the list of things Ford should probably know while he was here.
Of course, he was more than 'a little' involved, but he'd gradually work up to most of the truth later. At least enough of it to where Ford knew who to avoid. AKA all government officials entirely, and just to be safe- most of the criminals too.
He could feel Ford staring at him though, so he shrugged. "Not sure there's much else to tell you." Later… he would tell him later. "There's a bunch of wackos here, it'd take a long while to list every one of them out."
He still considered telling Ford, just for half a second. Instantly, he realized just how amazing well his brother would take it though. Especially considering he was already upset over something. "You're giving me a real broad range here." Stan said to him. "Again, there's all the major criminals then a couple cults. Whadya want to know exactly?"
Ford held his breath, watching him for a moment, before glancing off. "Just anything, I suppose."
"Well, keep an eye on the news. Or pick up a newspaper. Really though, as long as you stay out of shady places and walking at night, you'll be fine."
His face twisted into a bitter expression. "Right," came a short reply.
"Okay," Stan finally said, "what's got your panties in such a twist?"
Ford looked over at him, tapping on the counter. "Nothing, absolutely nothing." Before Stan could get a chance to call Bull, Ford continued, "What specific building is the cult in?"
"Aha, what? You're kidding me, right?" Stan asked, already fully well knowing for a fact that his brother was completely serious. "You're-" he stopped for a breath and ended up letting out a short laugh.
"What?" Ford asked him, eyebrows pulling together.
"You want to just walk into a cult's place."
"Yes."
"Why?" Stan asked him.
"So, I can see if they have anything on demons." Ford answered matter of fact.
Stan couldn't help making a face. If anybody in the city had something on demons, well... it'd definitely be a demonic cult. "Shouldn't raiding a cult be, I don't know, more of a last-ditch idea? Don't you have access to all those ancient books now?"
"I do, but libraries don't really prioritize 'demonic warding' texts very much." He answered, nonplussed. "Either the cult is worthless and there's no real danger, or they do have something that could help."
"Third option," Stan said, pointing at him. "Their thing is actually ghosts and sacrificing trespassers. Just saying... it is a cult."
His brother shrugged. "Well, it wouldn't be potentially promising if it wasn't. So, where is it?"
Stan snorted. "I'll show ya, but I'm not key on you going lone wolf then getting caught and killed for trespassing their 'sacred domain' or whatever."
"What-"
"Literal cult, Ford."
Ford pursed his lips.
"Literal cult," Stan said calmly this time, with both hands gesturing out from himself.
His brother sighed through his nose before murmuring quietly. "…Alright."
The pair of them walked from where Stan had slyly parked the car and towards the building he'd pointed out.
"I can't believe you came with me to find cult materials." Ford muttered.
"Completely high-roading ya here, Ford, but you were the one that wanted to find this cult's stuff in the first place."
A fair point. One, which, he wasn't going to vocally acknowledge. "Are you sure there's actually a cult in here?" He asked, side-eyeing the building as they looked for an entrance. "It doesn't seem very… secret."
Stan shrugged beside him. "Hey, most people don't even know this cult exists."
Interest sparked up. Sure, cults weren't often well known, but he still wondered just what was going on exactly. Of course, finding anything about warding or demons was key above all else. However, if they happened to find out something about the cult along the way then that would obviously be good to know.
Ford spotted a door off in the distance and moved around Stan to get to it.
Overall, Stan was pretty happy even if they were walking into a pretty stupid situation. Ford hadn't really stayed pissed with him about the whole 'actually there IS a cult' thing. He was still walking with a slight sour air, but that had faded a lot from what it had been.
Maybe there wasn't even a cult here, after all. So, less dangerous, still not a great idea.
They quietly checked the derelict door. Half the hinges were broken, but it wasn't actually locked, just hard to open.
"What even happened to this door?" Ford hissed quietly as they slowly pried open the door. Once there was just enough of an opening, he held it for Stan and waved for him to go through.
"Honestly? Knowing this town, someone dramatically kicked it in." Stan replied once he was through.
"It's a metal door."
Stan pressed his lips into a thin smile. "Yup." He said, putting a hand on the door to keep it propped open.
Ford rolled his eyes before moving through the small opening. "Do people kick open metal doors that often here?"
"I'm positive it happens at least once a week." Stan replied, letting the door go once his twin was through.
With short halting movements, the door fell back closed. The accompanying sound of rusted metal scraping made both of the twins cringe. Thankfully, it wasn't all that loud though, just super unpleasant and creepy.
It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust once the door had shut. When it did… he could see they were inside an ordinary hallway like that of an office building. One point for the 'there's actually no cult' theory.
"Left is longer," Ford whispered quietly before turning down the hallway.
"So cults like long dramatic hallways, huh?" Stan asked.
Ford didn't respond but he could see the other looking back at him, and his own lips curled into a smile as he shrugged.
There wasn't anything for a while, but when they turned a corner there was a door that Ford lightly jogged towards.
Ford tried the door handle, then slowly pushed it open. His head peaked into the room before he pushed it open further, holding it just long enough for Stan to reach the door.
Once Stan got there, Ford started off into the room which… looked incredibly similar to a cleared out office space with scattered trash here and there. Another point for the 'No Cult' theory.
Stan checked a table, but hardly bothered actually looking. Not exactly cult-y material here.
It took almost a half hour of searching through boring rooms and halls before they saw something. In a stairwell, there was a low light coming from below.
Stan glanced to Ford who had just looked at him, catching eye contact before moving down the steps. "Okay," Stan whispered quietly, following, "cult stuff or bust." He almost scoffed when he reached the bottom of the steps though. Someone had put lights up sure, but it was some sort of tacky plastic lights made to look like 'tasteful' candles.
Ford didn't even pause though, heading straight away for a door nearby. He put his ear up to it for a moment, listening, before pushing it open.
The inside of the room had similar lights to the one just outside, but in a smaller space it was light up better than the hallway. There were some desks and shelves which had books and papers scattered on them. There was also a shady knife sitting with a bunch of weird tools right next to some… Okay, his gut told him that bowl of dark purple liquid had to be poisoned grape koolaid, and his mind wasn't offering up much to argue against that. What other liquid did cults put in big bowls besides poisoned drinks? There were a couple of large, kinda elegant drapes hanging from the walls that pulled the room together.
Okay, the hallway may have been laughable, but the more details he saw inside this room the more serious it actually looked. Even the 'koolaid' was getting him creeped out. The only thing missing here were some ominous blood stains.
With no other entrances into the room, Stan relaxed a tiny degree. He didn't want to stick around, but they hadn't spotted anyone on the way in so they had a good chance of being fine. Still in a cult's hideout, but fine if they were using Gotham's definition of the word.
Ford, meanwhile had gone straight to the books and was pulling one out to look inside.
"Okay, go ahead and…" Stan trailed off as he actually saw Ford.
Surrounded by creepy stuff galore, his brother looked as though he was in a corner of a library picking out interesting books from the shelf. The sour mood completely dissipated.
AUTHOR NOTES:
Stan's Inner Thoughts: Oh Jeez, This is actual cult stuff,,,
Ford's Inner Thoughts: There's a real cult here!
No joke though, this title took me 40 minutes to come up. AlsO THOUGH:
Those two students? They made a bet on if the new professor would quit within 8 weeks due to Scarecrow's visits on Gotham. Saw that whole 'getting chased by a hulking thug' and had exchanged the money then and there because who'd stay after that.
Hope you all are up for Cult Adventures™!