Well, I've gotten one feedback so far but hey it's something, and I'm proud for that. IT definitely gave my spirit's a boost and I'll be updating more regularly now, unless demand goes up (which I doubt :3) Enjoy chapter 2, and for those who enjoy the KH bit a little extra, this is where things become more AU-like.


II - Chains

Quivering in place, the scene that unrolled before Gabryl played over and over again in his mind. That man, another Reaper, a possible means of escape from his isolated prison, killed before him. Death was nothing to Gabryl, normally, but he had never witnessed it being done in that fashion; It was all strangely traumatizing, which was saying a lot for the position Gabryl was in, and the deeds he had done in the past. Maybe it was because he was so used to the gritty scene of stabbing or impaling someone. The amounts of gore he had experienced almost seemed like a natural way of dying by this point; unlike the unknown, supernatural process. A life ended in a flash of light, generated in less than a second; it sickened him somehow, but why? Had it been because Lucre, the Reaper, was falsely accused? No, as Gabryl had clearly seen him steal money, all by taking advantage of the criminals stealing it in the first place. His weight shifted to his right foot, losing his balance as he pictured the smoking remains, which in fact were only a few feet behind him, having stormed up to the Angel. Feeling nauseas, Gabryl started walking, wobbling a little in light headedness, and considered something. That Angel, the one who did the killing himself, was it him that angered Gabryl more than the action?

What Gabryl knew of Angels was limited, having only met them twice prior to this day, and for very short times at that. Regardless, both occasions were remarkably bitter, and left a scar a Gabryl in both cases, to remind him of his dim future. It was those two experience that he didn't like to remember, period, and every haunting nightmare made him wish he wash his memories away for good. Just like this morning, before Gabryl knew that a third encounter would burn in his subconscious. Sighing, trying to erase it now, he held his forehead in a hand, leaning upon a metal pole, supporting traffic signals. The cold object was wet from last night's rain, and he felt the water seep through his sleeve, making his arm slightly cool. Not caring to move until the signal changed, it was the wetness and other little things that came to his attention in his renewed isolation; the words of the people surrounding him grew louder, and the smell of car exhaust became more pungent. Only when he noticed others moving around him did Gabryl start moving again, crossing the street in the crowd that couldn't see him, but still feeling and hearing and smelling what he had sensed moments earlier.

Folding his arms, he came to the opposite side of the road, staring at the ground. Every time the headlight from a car came into his eyesight, he winced, thinking of Lucre's death. Though, he took into consideration what really bothered him; the Angel, as he inferred back there. Was it really their race as a whole that got to him? Perhaps Gabryl sensed some injustice within their ranks, since the only times he ever interacted with them, they were just threatening him with death, constantly warning him of violating their "rules", or, as of today, killing.

It had been nearly five hours since Gabryl had woken up, and it was late in the afternoon, his impulses already quieting for the day. It bothered him, along with the scene replaying in his mind. Reminded then, attempting to take his mind off of it, Gabryl dug into his right pocket, feeling the cool metal bundled at the bottom of it, and pulled it out by it's chain. Gabryl looked around, and stopped walking aimlessly, putting his shoulder to a wall. Now that his premonition that he would vomit disappeared, he wanted to make sure his stomach stayed settled. Looking down between two buildings, he was glad to not see anyone fighting; he was situated right near an alley, not unlike the one that he had done his work in the day before. To pass the time, for his head to relax, Gabryl took out the chained item he found, letting the main, flat part rest in his palm. Some sunlight, managing it's way through the clouds, reflected off the faded item, into his eye by happenstance. Gabryl held it up high, dangling it by the end of the chain, and hung it in front of his face to get rid of the glare, and to inspect it more carefully. He recalled the conversation between Lucre and the Angel; and how the former was apparently looking for this, in quite a panic. If only he held onto it better, this whole mess might've not happened. Gabryl smirked, looking at the tiny rings that made up the chain; Lucre may as well have strung it on his house keys, or something. It essentially was, after all, a well-crafted novelty Keychain, if not an old one, as he could tell by the scratches it had endured. It really wasn't that impressive, though. Could he have used it to fend for himself? Gabryl didn't see how it would be more useful than his own scythe. Squinting, Gabryl searched it for some sort of marking that would make it any more fascinating; all three circle-shaped sections of it, but nothing. He sighed, arms going to his sides, and slouched, more lazily, against the wall.

Looking up at the thinning, still dark clouds, Gabryl bunched the chain in his hand, listening to it jingle a little, when he noticed something out of place in the corner of his eye. A person; not necessarily distinct in appearance, but more what they were doing. Down the street, a woman clad in black, running in obvious haste, due to her shoving others out of the way without a whim. It wasn't very strange to see someone running, but Gabryl was for some reason fixated on this person; they seemed to just stick out. A moment passed, and he could make out her height, form, and a few facial features. She had to be at least his age, if not older, with a long jacket trailing behind her, coat tails torn and dirtied. Her left hand; bloodied, and dripping. The latter was only a little shocking, since Gabryl would normally have intense chest pains, and be ready to kill by the time a person with that much blood on them were trying to escape something, but his experience from the bank told him this might not be the appropriate time for that. She could be the prey of another Reaper, but what else?

Gabryl saw her eyes as she came closer, even with her head turning from one side to the next, constantly, watching out for herself. She was now on the same block, and her eyes were revealed to be captivating, colored a deep orange, unique enough to Gabryl that he could observe them from one street corner to the next. His Reaper eyes were a tad stronger anyway, but he was still shocked. The woman was interesting to say the least, but it still seemed a mystery why; there something special, or did Gabryl just find an attraction that he didn't expect? Those trivial things, taking up the time until she was close enough that the next time her eyes flickered up, they met Gabryl's directly. With her in constant motion, and Gabryl beginning to stand up straight, they kept the visual connection, only for him to break the contact out of embarrassment. Gabryl gave quiet gasp, or more like a quick sucking of breath, and looked back at her. Time seemed to slow during all this, and as he brought his gaze to its previous target, he watched her just taking her eyes away to make her systematic check over to her right. Even though, the way she stared at him wasn't just another one of those. Was that on purpose? Had she seen him like Lucre, was she a Reaper as well? He had to know. Gabryl didn't want to screw things up twice in one day, to lose his chance at freedom.

Gambling with his actions, Gabryl brought himself out from the alley wall, moving onto the sidewalk, and holding out a hand to stop her, or at least see if he could get her attention. However, the hand he held up happened to be still clinging to the Keychain, which he had forgotten to deposit back into his clothing. It dangled, looped over a finger, and glinted once in sparse light, turning as it hung freely. It was that reflection of sunlight that beamed right to the woman's eye, just like it had to Gabryl, and brought her to notice it as well. She knew what a Keychain was, and unlike Gabryl, she knew what purposes it served in the world. It wasn't to be hung on anything, or clipped to a key. That Keychain was for protection, which she dearly needed now. Coming to the alley, she turned on her the toes of one foot, mid-step, when she came next to Gabryl, and pushed her arms out to the left, seizing Gabryl by his shoulders and sending both of them crashing to the muddy ground. Acting on practiced reflexes, Gabryl pushed back, only to be suppressed and sent into a roll; both of them fighting for dominance until the female pinned Gabryl to the wall, behind a set of trash cans, with him enraged and shouting in defiance. Before any words came out though, a gloved hand, the same bloody one from before, clasped down on his mouth forcefully. He could feel sharp fingernails through the leather. Looking up, trying to see his assailant's face more clearly, Gabryl struggled more when a shroud of black enveloped both, making it pitch-black, and impossible for him to see. Something broke through however; a familiar bright light. Thin streaks of it poked through whatever was covering them both in small areas, and, after a few footsteps thudded and a bored-sounding grunt was sighed, the light shone a second time. There were no more footsteps, and whoever had appeared apparently left into thin air.

The sticky, bloody hand peeling off his mouth, the woman kneeled, then standing up, poised in a cautious stance. She didn't seem harmed by the encounter, but Gabryl was drawn to her obvious feature, which had appeared on her since he had first seen her all of forty seconds ago. Spitting out the bodily fluids that stuck to his lips, his eyes scanned in surprise; with her back half-turned to him, Gabryl had a view of a pair of black wings, feathered, not unlike those of the Angels he had seen before, only with a color change. He was afraid initially; immediately going to thoughts of killer Angels, and scrambled up, gripping the scythe that appeared instantly in his hand. The woman, sighing in relief to herself, turned to see the blade nearly shoved in her face, and appropriately reacted, exclaiming, angry.

"The hell…!" Her hand lashed out, with quicker reflexes than Gabryl would ever expect from another person, and wrenched the scythe out of his hands. It was flung down the alley with an effortless toss, and clashed against the tightly-spaced walls and asphalt, sparks spraying off. They both watched it sail away, Gabryl suddenly coming under the impression that this Reaper was much more powerful than he, only to remember that that same unknown was standing right there, and most likely angry at him. He turned his head an inch to see her, only to feel his body lurched forward, his wrist gripped and used to yank up the rest of him so that they were eye level. She had to have been no more than a couple inches taller than him, though, so the increase in height wasn't much. The woman however, did not have her focus on height, and rather narrowed her eyes towards the Keychain hanging from Gabryl's clenched fist. He had no idea why the item would be so important to her, since if anything it should have meant more to Lucre, yet, after scanning the metal piece on the end thoroughly, her agitated gaze made its way back to her captive. With that, the strength shown before made another example of Gabryl, as it felt like his assailant was attempting to snap his hand clean off. He let out a sharp breath, and lost his hold on the Keychain, letting it fall.

Her orange eyes, nearly radiating some explosive emotion, followed the descending emblem, and she caught it in mid-air, letting it come to rest on her palm. they flicked back up to Gabryl's face. He stared back, frightened by the evident, terrifying physical capabilities she may have. Blood pulsing from anxiety, he blinked. And it was when his eyes had opened not a moment later, that Gabryl saw the world flying past him, or perhaps him flying through it. He felt his cheek skid across the wet pavement, and bleed onto it; the coldness adding to the stinging on raw skin. He staggered to sit up, coughing, trying to find the breath that he lost, and wasn't surprised to see her, with a fist still raised, holding the Keychain in the other hand. What did surprise Gabryl is that her punch didn't tear right through his stomach, but had no doubt in him that a considerable bruise would be left. That, or he wouldn't be able to properly digest anything for the next week.

Following up her offense, catching Gabryl off guard as he reflected on his dark humor, she made another move at speeds that he couldn't comprehend. Jumping, or more accurately, lunging into the air, her wings fanned out to keep her balanced and almost floating as one foot came down on his chest to push him to his back, half-standing on him. Gabryl was once again searching for the connection from his mouth to his lung when a streak of black appeared in front of his face. A scythe, he knew, because of that way it was summoned to her. It was different though; the metal darker, almost black like the smoke that beckoned it. To make it appear even more distinct, was that the normally curved blade was jagged, coming to a sharp, angled point. Just like Gabryl's, however, another shorter section of blade protruded from the opposite side of the longer counterpart. He couldn't see any spike on the far end, like his, but from the uncomfortable position Gabryl was in he found that he had wasted enough time staring at what may go through his skull in a matter of minutes. His mouth opened once, slightly, to let out a gasp, another cough from the recoil, but she spoke before he could begin to form words.

"Where did you," She shook the Keychain, it jingled, "get this?" Gabryl grunted, and didn't know why he was having a conversation with a person that only managed to manhandle him in the time they had been together. He felt more pressure exerted on his chest when he didn't answer.

"I-" He choked for a second when the words came out, and she nearly growled out of impatience. "…Found it on the ground." Having said something out of impulse, without thinking, he realized how stupid that sounded. Her heel dug into his chest, and he could feel it bruising.

"No. The person who owns this wouldn't just drop it-"

"Well, they did!" Again, he gagged, and Gabryl grasped her ankle, trying to pull it off. "The Reaper. He was running. He lost it." He focused more on her leg, but as gripped onto it more, he couldn't even feel any muscles tightened in it. Was it possible she wasn't even trying to hold him down now? How weak exactly, was Gabryl, in comparison to others?

"You're lying." The woman was blunt, but with reason for not believing what seemed like such a shallow story.

"It's what happened!" Gabryl sneered. "Then…then that Angel came and, he, um…" Starring back up, he saw a sudden softness appear in her eyes. The moment he mentioned the Angel, in fact, Gabryl could sense it in her; there was something she firmly believed in, or knew, that had been cut short. He was definitely used to this sort of reaction, having seen it in the eyes of people seeing loved ones stabbed or cut up otherwise. It came as a shock to Gabryl, though, to see it in this woman, with such physical domination over him.

"Dead…" She murmured, quietly, morosely, lifting her foot off of Gabryl. "He's…dead. Right?" She spoke to the wall that she was facing, giving Gabryl the freedom to move without fear of having his movements predicted.

He gave a slow nod, and even though she couldn't have seen the person sitting behind her, she nodded back. She didn't really need an answer though, and knew how Gabryl would respond. Him having mentioned the Angel was all that she needed, and the pieces could be put together easily for someone with her experience.

Her scythe disappeared without any gesture or expression, and her eyes closed, sighing. However, Gabryl felt as though he was out of some big loops, all revolving around Angels and those chain things. First he inferred that the chains were special, probably meant to protect Reapers, or maybe anyone in general, from them. If Lucre hadn't lost that Keychain, he'd be alive right now, living on what he could steal. He would have escaped into the crowd and never been seen by Gabryl again. Gabryl would have never had a run-in with this woman. He'd still be alone.

Just considering the chain of coincidences, and how these circumstances had come together made his head spin. Was he really benefiting from the death of another like this? Gabryl had gone and killed so many in the past, but they had just been random people. Never once had someone dying actually made him get anywhere, or helped him, or really do anything else outside of driving him into his depression. He brought a hand to his dirtied cheek, wincing as he wiped off blood. Gabryl noticed that he was scared. But, was he scared of having, in effect, killed someone important? No, and neither was he afraid of doing so again. Sure, he was slightly afraid of the woman that could break his neck in a second if she wanted to, but what affected Gabryl most deeply right now, was that he was involved in something. Gabryl thought of his only two instances of human contact before today, both being with Angels. He had always known there was something bigger going on, but never did he try to figure it out or look into it. The relation he had with Angels meant nothing to him until now. Now he knew they were the bad guys, and that other Reapers, if not also bad, were at least oppressed to some extent. Gabryl had learned, and saw that he was the cause of something, and that there were outcomes to be had that would directly affect him. It was frightening in a way he would never expect, but it was also so exhilarating.

Answers would be appreciated, but even this long-awaited adrenaline wouldn't tell Gabryl how to communicate with others. Struggling with words earlier as he was stuck on his back, he hadn't even been sure if he remember how to speak. However, he would need to learn how if he was going to get anywhere with this. It had been a long and confusing day, and Gabryl wasn't about to let it go to waste.

"So…what, um, exactly is that chain thing…?" The words came out about as badly as he imagined.

She turned, giving him a look of pure distaste. Her striking orange eyes still kept themselves narrowed on Gabryl, and preoccupied herself by stringing the chain around her fingers. Opening her mouth a few times, finding her own right words, she gave a deep sigh, eyes going from Gabryl, down to the Keychain he asked about. It was evident she was angry towards Gabryl, for reasons he wasn't completely sure of, but without going into the rage she had before. Her eyes closed, and she sighed once more before speaking.

"You don't…know anything, do you?"

Gabryl looked perplexed, and wondered if he had just been insulted. The woman let the Keychain unravel off of her hand, holding it with her thumb and forefinger, in front of her for Gabryl to see. She bit her lip, and when she wasn't fixated on looking at it with him, she was fighting herself from letting her gaze settle near the thing. Perhaps the hate she was showing was more towards the item between them, than Gabryl.

"…It's a Keychain. We use them, so the Angels can't detect us." She brought a hand to her face, eyes closed more tightly now. "You really don't know?"

Still absent minded, Gabryl shook his head. His sensitive, childish subconscious, having deteriorated form his loneliness, was jumping up and down in the back of his mind. Was there more he would learn about? More Reapers to meet? That side of him couldn't wait to hear more. The logical part knew how critically things would change, and how dangerous the outcome would be.

"There are more Reapers with those things?" He shrank back when she nodded, feeling dumb. He clutched his stomach, it hadn't been convulsing periodically like normal. No urges. It only added to the excitement. He pondered the connections, though, and then the possibilities; if Angels couldn't see them when the had the Keychain things, then there was so much more he could do, and so much freedom he could have. Gabryl looked down to his hands, which had been stained in blood so many times in the past. For all he knew, they would never have to touch the color red ever again after today.

"Here, just…" She was clearly in no mood to talk, or even knock Gabryl around like before. Was it because Lucre was that important? She sighed and turned. "We'll go there."

Her wings, which Gabryl paid little mind to all this time, to his surprised, stretched out, wide enough that they were cramped in the alley, prompting her to turn parallel to the walls. She flapped them once to begin levitating into the air, and Gabryl watched on in awe. It was childish wonder, immediately followed by fear of being left behind. He stepped forward, almost under her, shouting.

"Hey! I can't…!" There was a look of distress on him.

She looked back, annoyed, with a frown, only to meet Gabryl's expression of worry. The body language shared between the two was short-lived and blatant. Gabryl saw her motion with a shoulder, inviting him along. She became further troubled upon seeing his disdained look, afraid of being left behind for being of no use; he couldn't fly like that, and until today didn't know that Reapers could even have wings. She huffed, easing herself back down in front of him, landing lightly but making a show of stomping the ground to show how upset she was. Having made a show of that, she pivoted right on her heel and made haste towards the street, barely any traffic present at this hour. Gabryl hurried after, all the while wondering why he didn't have wings himself; and watched as she folded her own, and wasn't sure if it was through some subconscious movement or if it was like having two other arms. The appendages came together, black feathers very similar, if not the same as her raven hair, and then seemingly merged into her back, Reaper-styled smoke rising off. No pain or discomfort was expressed, impressing Gabryl, who watched as Leyla predicted car movements, preferring to cross here than waste her time at an intersection.

All the while, he was wishing he was as fortunate as her to have wings. Gabryl could only imagine they would be useful for getting around the large town with its crowded sidewalks and buses. And with this convenience, he'd be able to feel that cool, moist wind in his face, and have a front row seat of the perpetual twilight. He was sure it would be more beautiful when he wasn't getting shoved out of the way every ten seconds or so. Being able to explore everything, without the burden of his daily killing sprees; he urged to have that fantasy come to life. Fantasizing, Gabryl almost missed following his companion as she crossed the street when a the walk signal flickered on. He took the opportunity to speak, to pass time and patch things up between them.

"So, um." He began, catching up, and walking alongside her, to the woman's discontent. Just hearing his voice was enough for her to cross her arms and sigh.

"Can I have a name to work with?" Gabryl chirped, albeit timidly, seeing her new pose.

"Leyla." She spoke quietly and without formality, leaving the air between the two stale and a little awkward. He expected some kind of follow-up to that, but was glad he knew what to call her.

"Mine is Gabryl." He stated, more wholeheartedly, not trying to demean her like she may have been doing to him before. However, even though he managed to give her this information, she didn't exactly show any thanks for it, and simply stared blankly, gaze shifting from eye level to the sidewalk ahead.

"…In case you wanted to know." He pulled at his shirt collar, uncomfortably, feeling some sweat on his knuckles. Gabryl could tell that Leyla wasn't the kind of person who was very sociable, or was fun to talk to even when she did speak. To his surprise, Gabryl found that her apparent attempts to make him feel down was in fact working, as he didn't feel like asking many more questions. He felt intimidated, sure, but impressed.

Still, Gabryl was excited, to a very held back extent. Leyla was taking him to some meeting place, he had inferred, of other Reapers. And not just any, but informed Reapers that knew how to get around these rules created to bind them. Gabryl had never felt so hopeful in so long, and could have smiled at the thought of his escape being blocks away. The only reason, of course, to suppress this urge was because of the melancholy girl near him. He'd reap the benefits of his new situation later, perhaps with a more celebratory bunch. Trying to think of these happier things, Gabryl glanced over to Leyla, who walked without distraction of the world around her, unflinching, with the same preciseness she had used to subdue him earlier. It was a feature, he noted, that made her desirable in a way, though he would take no actions on that small observation; any sort of romance or relationship was not in his agenda. If anything, his isolation made him crave a friend alone, than anything more. Besides, what semblance of love could come from their roaming of the afterlife? He realized he was still scanning her, and brought his eyes back to the town in front of him before she noticed, thinking of what she would do to him should she catch a person staring like that. He decided any form of attractiveness Leyla had was heavily shadowed by her somber tone, and frightening attitude. Her face, darkened by rings under her eyes, didn't add to anything. Those eyes, that would normally be so intriguing to look at. Under these circumstances he was afraid to look at all; it made her look demonic, instead of bringing up any beauty, as eyes of that spectacular color should. He shrugged that off as a first impression gone awry. Stealing the Keychain he found didn't help her case, though. Final impression? A bully.

But, these Keychains, there must be more of them. Hundreds more even, than the one that Leyla was holding now, and there must be enough that Gabryl could have his own as well. What if he could just walk up, and take one of them, no questions asked? His torments gone and nightmares settled, in one moment, just like that. It almost put a smile on the face of a man usually saddened and gloomy, just like the sky above him. Enough lamenting, though, he just wanted to get to their destination, like a child wanting a gift at Christmas; but it really did mean that much to him. He couldn't stress that enough ,going over it again and again in his mind. In this rare time of happiness, the bells from the Chapel Hearts church rang over Twilight Town, the couple who were almost on the other side of the town. Gabryl craned his neck back to see the bell tower, over the trees of the distant park, as they gave their last ring. The sixteenth.

Without a functioning watch, and without constant sunlight, Gabryl usually relied on the chimes to tell him the general time; it was nearing the evening, and the hidden sun would soon set. as the encounter with Leyla lasted an hour. The bells fading, added to the peacefulness of this far-out area of the town, allowed Gabryl to hear another familiar noise; that of the Keychain, being handled by Leyla, as she moved it into her pocket. He wondered why, watching it fall into the pocket of her long, black jacket. Her eyes would dart down periodically, as if to make sure it was still there, in the fold of fabric. There was really no reason for there not to be, her clothing looked new and secure, without holes like Lucre. It was a long, black, billowy jacket that went past her waist. Silver drawstrings would tighten the baggy hood, should she decide to wear it. Between Gabryl, Leyla, and Lucre, Gabryl had to wonder if all Reapers dressed in such dark, depressingly-colored clothing. Shrugging it off as coincidence, a more pertinent question came to mind.

"Leyla."

She didn't look like she wanted to listen, but gave a short glance to have him continue.

"If those Keychains don't let them- the Angels, see us, and you were running at me before…" Gabryl saw her pace falter for a moment, but keep pace. "You seemed in kind of a rush, so," An eye twitches, from both individuals actually, "I mean, did you not have…?" She increased her pace, keeping her voice soft.

"My Keychain wasn't with me, but there's good reason." Gabryl caught up to her, breathing a little heavy. He'd normally go at a more relaxing walking speed. Eyes on her, waiting for her to keep talking, he gave a bit of a motion with his hand, which was caught in her peripheral.

"What? I told you. Not having it doesn't…it doesn't reflect on me or anything." Gabryl was becoming more and more suspicious that either these Keychains were much more special than he originally thought, or that Leyla here, was quite paranoid about things. Either way, he wasn't exactly feeling welcome into the apparent inner circle of Reapers that existed, and was hoping the rest of them wouldn't lash out at him like her. He dismissed her defensive comments, and looked up at the sky as it darkened turned more purple than gray. Gabryl also noticed that they were nearly out of Twilight Town itself, in more rural areas, with the buildings decreasing in size, but not in the best of conditions. Trees were also more abundant. Traversing an intersection, Gabryl huffed a hushed breath when they made it to the other side, ignoring a man who bumped into him, obviously not seeing the invisible, dead person, and he sighed. The are was now much more wooded than the rest of Twilight Town, with tall trees almost touching the low clouds. With their branches only fanning out near the top, it was just like another layer to block the sun rays. At least it being nature made it look a little nicer. They stepped onto the old and cracked concrete, grass peeking out of the fissures, and turned right, going in the same direction as before. The buildings were darker and aged, some hidden in shadows, so Gabryl didn't see their destination come near.

"We're here." Leyla said abruptly, snapping Gabryl out of his trance he was in, taking in the unfamiliar environment, and he looked up at the building in front of him. It was not the most impressive thing he had ever seen. It was a large mansion, albeit a little better-looking than the other buildings on the street, but it didn't seem to be very well taken care of. Yellow stone and dark shingles made up structure, chipping off in places. It had a second story, where a few windows were lit by some dim source. One or two were even cracked, with some surrounded by dry vegetation crawling up. It looked old, but carried the aura that it was once a more extravagant place, ravaged by time and lack of housekeeping.

They approached the tall double doors, but Gabryl couldn't help but recognize the place faintly. He may have very well walked by this place before, or on multiple occasions, but the real reason for not recalling it was probably because of it not even having a sign on it; no name to speak of. A large wooden board, meant to be some kind of sign, hung by chains, in the shape of a three-pointed crown. It too was old, but Gabryl had no idea what it could represent. Probably just a symbol, or maybe some kind of invisible Reaper ink. A humorous notion, but he was not too sure how ridiculous it was. Leyla didn't give the sign any notice, and gave the door a strong pull, neglecting to hold it open for the man who had been trailing behind, absorbing the strange scenery.

The interior was crowded with people, crammed into the large lobby at round wooden tables. The place had insufficient lighting, leaving some corners dark and dusty, though the latter applied the rest of the lobby as well. Two staircases, winding to the second floor, a balcony that went around the edge of the rectangular room, began at two ends of the room near the back and arched over a glass doorway. The glass in question dirty and yellow, making it almost impossible to see through. Gabryl imagined that it went outside. There were different age groups, races, and of obvious differing social statuses, and Gabryl had to wonder if all the people like these were really Reapers, if all of them were dead, and brought back reap hearts by just some chance. It occurred to Gabryl that this place was more than any meeting grounds, but some kind of cheap hotel or inn designed to even house the many Reapers in the town, or outside of it. A place like this would definitely solve his dilemma of having a permanent living space, so perhaps Leyla was going to try and find him a room? She led him to a long desk on their immediate left, where a man sat. He was in front of a tall series of shelves and cabinets, all crammed full of records and documents, probably in regards to those staying there and the keeping of the building. He was currently writing on a clipboard, making numerous marks and checking up on other papers to confirm those marks. Seemed like a boring job, despite the undead acting as your tenants. Gabryl's mind wandered on how that could really make any significance though, and eventually came to realize that the owner himself must be a Reaper.

Both stood in front of the checkout desk, the managed not making any acknowledgment of the pair. Gabryl raised a hand to try and capture his attention, but Leyla was able to do so wordlessly, slipping a hand inside her coat and pulling out the Keychain by one of the small links. The jingle from its movement had the man meet her eyes, bold orange ones, just like her own.

"Ah, Leyla," his deep voice expressed a kind of hopefulness, and he placed his work carefully to a concealed shelf under the desk, "so you've found him-" Clearing his throat, he cut himself off as he looked over to Gabryl, who just stood awkwardly. He had no idea how to present himself, or what to say. "Or not."

"I, er, found him." She tried to explain, simultaneously handing over the Keychain. The man took it in both hands like second nature, tucking it in his own pocket. Had that actually belonged to him? The man was old, obviously, and didn't seem like the type to get out much. His face showed signs of wrinkles starting to come in, and his hair line had receded a little, though it still retained a fine blonde color. Leyla seemed to be respecting him regardless of age, however, as she formed her words sluggishly.

"Yeah. New kid. Found him when I saw him holding…that." She nodded towards the Keychain, and he gave an uneasy look towards both. He looked down, opening his cupped hands to observe the object, and then back to Leyla, who he stared at sternly.

"But not him, hmm?

"…No." She shook her head in small spasms, letting her own eyes drift towards the floor. There was some sort of understanding between them that Gabryl knew he wasn't getting, and didn't know if he wanted to know. He had the suspicion they were speaking of Lucre.

"I'm sorry." He sighed. Yep, Gabryl thought, there was definitely something he was not aware of. His own gaze went back and forth between the two, before setting on the man, who finally paid him full attention. "I imagine we will have to set you up some place?"

Gabryl nodded, and felt his tension lessen. The single sentence aimed at him made him feel like he wasn't an alien. The inn manager stood up, with fine posture, and turned to a drawer, rummaging through it. Gabryl's eyes snapped to him as he heard more jingling, expecting a Keychain to be handed to him. Rather, it was a large iron ring with a number of keys hanging off it, which dampened his excitement, but gave him the positive prospect of having a bed to call his own. A key was hooked off and handed to Gabryl, to which he mouthed a shy, silent thank you.

"It will be to the left of your own, Leyla. Show him the way, and come back down. We'll have a talk about what happened." He scratched the hair on his chin, saying it in a tone that Gabryl thought a parent would take when about to scold their child, except they try to make it sound like a discussion, getting their hopes up in that they would have a fair say. Leyla did not make it seem this way though, and nodded, giving a slight smile that last less than a moment.

"Thank you, Ansem." She turned, beckoning Gabryl to follow by sweeping her hand over her shoulder. He followed fervently, giving a timid wave to the innkeeper, who just sat back down to his paperwork. What had happened couldn't have been a normal conversation between to friends, he thought, but he remember enough about having a social life to know it would be rude to ask about it. He simply sighed and caught up to her, fondling the key in one hand, and gathered the courage to ask his more pertinent question.

"Leyla, will I…do you think I could maybe…" He stammered, to his surprise, but his voice gained a little more enthusiasm as he went on. Leyla on the other hand gritted her teeth at his voice, preoccupied with other thoughts.

"Yes?" She spoke with some false brightness. Gabryl tugged at his shirt collar, and felt sweat like before.

"…Will I get a Keychain of my own? I mean, if you, and Lucre-" Leyla winced when he said the name, "had one, does that mean I could too?"

Contemplating, she tried to muster the kindest, and most truthful, answer possible.

"You…might. It could happen. There are some available ones I guess, but I don't know if anyone is too delighted to just hand them out."

Gabryl's encouragement faltered at her words, and the glint that had appeared in his eyes died down just a little. Blue eyes that had gotten a little more brighter that day. Leyla had to admit that it was rare to see a color like that. She shook her head and ignored any admirations she had of the boy, he was new and wouldn't be worth anything until he grew to know the place. She led him up the left-hand staircase, and down a hallway on the same side. Conversations and shouts and a television broadcast echoed. Leyla stopped to the side of one door, more than half way down, and stood next to it, inviting Gabryl use his key, which he did, fiddling shortly with the old lock. As he entered the dark room, he immediately smelled wet wood, probably from the material the old place was built of combined with the eternal rain. He was able to reach the outline of a bed and sat down on it, feeling the thick flannel blanket, which he promptly laid down on. Gabryl hadn't noticed how tired he really was from the days events, and almost fell asleep before Leyla drew the curtains to the side of the creaky bed, filling the room with overcast-blocked light.

"Alright, you're settled." She drawled, turning away and making for the door. "I don't plan on seeing you until the morning. Just ask Ansem for anything in the meantime." It was still fairly early too, so she must be busy, or perhaps just wanted to lose the newbie that was essentially dead weight. Ah well. Gabryl would be sleeping from now until the next morning anyway, having his nightmares under the comfort of knowing that he would be having them in his own bed. He twisted his body and patted down the pillow, and looked up back to Leyla, standing in the doorway.

"Hey, how am I supposed to pay for all this, exactly?" He cracked his neck, and she rolled her eyes back in thought.

"Oh, well, Ansem supports us. Reapers get a considerable discount." She smirked to herself. "Plus, I'm sure he'll go easy on you, since you just moved in. Funds are hard to come by for us."

The corner of his mouth twitched, and his finger circled on the blanket.

"I…have to make money?" The most Gabryl ever remembered doing was stealing a few dollars from the homes or wallets of people he killed, and that was just to get by. Barely, at that. He wasn't crazy about stealing, but apparently that was how Reapers like Lucre got by. Unless that was what she meant? Did all Reapers steal? Leyla could tell he was thinking over his financial future and put a hand on the doorknob, preparing to leave and disgrace him.

"Look, you obviously don't know much about being a Reaper-"

"But, I've been one for years!" He leaned forward, wearing a face of contempt and worry.

"Alright, alright." Another disgruntled sigh from her. "Whatever. Years or not, things will change for you, so you'll have to get used to it. I'll show you around, introduce you to some others, maybe those that can handle you." She gripped the doorknob a little tighter, letting her eyes settle on his. It occurred to her that rather than trying to just get him off her back, she was in fact coming off as a bit too mean. "Look, I just don't normally walk around with anyone new. We'll take care of all that tomorrow. I need rest, and I need to talk things over with some others. It may not occur to you, but you were probably the only person to see someone who a lot of people cared about, get murdered."

No, it really hadn't occurred to Gabryl that Lucre was special. Of course he wished he could have spoken to him, but death was just so routine that ultimately the death itself was easy to forget. Sure there was the moral aspect of it, but most of it was forgettable. He had made a mistake there.

"S-Sorry…" Gabryl slowly put his head back to the pillow, closing his eyes. "Tell, um, Ansem I said thank you. I'm tired." He spoke in his old, depressed, bored tone, but Leyla actually saw nothing wrong with it.

"Alright, you don't have to get up early or anything, not like anyone's in a rush. Do whatever the hell you want, just come and see me at some point." She stressed the last part, maybe responsibility meant something to her. Overall her voice had lightened up though, which unnerved Gabryl. Was she happier for making him sad, and expressing her discontent? And he was just warming up to her, too.

Gabryl's eyes closed tighter, and he put a hand over his chest. He didn't feel like undressing, as he could feel his mind drifting off to sleep by the time he realized he was still wearing his clothes. Gabryl expected that he would never get to sleep after everything he had discovered today, too, yet slumber eventually took him, much to his relief. Snoring lightly, sprawling out as the hours rolled by, subconsciously some part of him would twitch every time the sound of a jingle made its way into his room.