Outside the World Theatre Runt stood and listened to the concert while at the same time fending off the ravenous questions of his two companions. They greeted him upon his arrival and stayed with him until the concert's end. Both were intrigued to meet a friend of Clementine's. Their ensuing questions bordered on interrogation. Their thirst to know every detail of his life was not at all unkindly, yet overwhelming. It was all Runt could do to defend himself. When the back door swung open it carried with it a tidal wave of relief. Clementine stepped through reading a letter in his hands. He looked up, "Monnie, Merri, did you two behave yourselves?"
"We were like angels." Smiled Merri ever so sweetly.
"You never told us you had such nice friends." Added Monnie.
Clementine nodded his sympathies to Runt, "Any trouble?"
Runt was unsure if Clementine was referring to his bodacious theatre friends or the journey it took to get here. So, he assumed the latter. "I wasn't followed. If I were I would've heard them." He gestured towards the letter, "What's that?"
Clementine tucked the letter into his vest pocket, "Tell you on the way. Good night you two."
"Farewell." Said Monnie.
"And do visit again Mr. Braun." Called out Merri. The two blew kisses in their direction as they left the World Theatre.
"They treat you alright?" asked Clementine, a touch of embarrassment reaching his tone.
"You keep some strange company."
Clementine snickered, "The two of them together can be a little much, but they mean well. I trust them."
"Are they sisters?"
"Ha! After all these years…I'm too afraid to ask. They could be mother and daughter for all I know."
Runt shook the thought from his head, "What were you reading?"
"A letter of introductions to a Mr. Roland Teal. We're to meet him at Club Bloom. It's not far from here."
"You've been?"
"Once or twice. Back in my scandalous days. It's a small, but rather prestigious jazz club. You like jazz? It's quite popular here in Refuge. That and electro swing, jazz's more modern cousin."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Admitted Runt.
"Not much of a music guy, are you?"
"It's never been a big part of my life."
"Right," said Clementine, "I suppose that makes sense."
"What do we know about this Roland Teal?" asked Runt, "Besides his taste in music."
"Apparently he was a student of Spool's for a time. Until they had some kind of falling out. Whatever happened must've been serious because Spool has never mentioned Teal once in the years I've known him. Since their departure Teal has become an influential man as it were. Someone who knows things. Just the type of person I want to talk to."
"And how do you know we're not walking into a trap?"
"Mr. Teal gave assurance that nothing will happen to us and Spool believed him. That's all the confirmation I need." He shrugged halfheartedly, "Besides, if we get into any trouble I'm sure you can punch your way out of it."
This was no time for jokes. Runt wanted to say as much, but looking down at his friend he saw the focus in his eyes. Underneath all performance of wit and optimism, he was just as tense as he was. A lot was riding on this meeting after all. Clementine had convinced them of his plan. It was a long and drawn out process but he did it. Even made Kiera relent. The future in the coming weeks will be determined by this meeting. If anything went sour it would all fall on Clementine. He convinced them to entrust the fate of the Mud District into his hands. Yet he couldn't do anything beyond his initial plan until this night. So, he dove into his theatre work. Runt recognized that escape for what it was. A distraction from the pressure he was surely straining under. Runt empathized because he too felt the same. Together, they shouldered the burden. So together they were for this meeting.
Even with the two of them united it wasn't without risk. They were out of their element and walking amongst a sea of potential enemies. Runt kept his eyes and ears open for the slightest sign of hostile movement.
Club Bloom was one of many such places that lined the streets of the Flower District. Each building saw a constant flow of people in and out through its doors, like hearts pumping blood. The sheer number of eager partygoers spilled into the streets. Any car that tried to drive past moved at a snail's pace, forced to wait for the rambunctious crowd to part before it. Club Bloom occupied the corner of the street, resting in the shadow of the neighboring casino. The amount of traffic coming from the club was nonexistent. A lone bouncer guarded the door. He held out a blocking hand as they approached.
"Invited guests only."
With a flourish Clementine slipped out the letter of introductions and neatly placed it in the bouncer's palm. "We're here to see Mr. Teal, he will be expecting us."
The bouncer glanced at the letter, but his eyes swiveled past it to inspect the two of them. His gaze held longer on Runt, measuring him as the primary threat. They always did. You idiots, you're looking at the wrong person.
The bouncer handed back the letter and stepped aside, allowing them to pass.
"Thanks my good man." Smiled Clementine as he entered the Club.
After a sigh, Runt followed. A wave of music washed over him. The tune was far unlike anything he heard from Clementine's concert. More heavy brass than string. So, this is jazz. The small band on stage consisted of five sandy haired individuals all dressed in loose suits. The youngest being around Clementine's age sat behind the drum set, twirling his sticks at any chance he could. Another plucked away at cello strings, her head rocking back and forth as if in some kind prayer. The trumpeter stood as straight and rigid as a tree, his puffed cheeks cherry red. There were two saxophone players. One large one and one small. The large saxophone player took center stage, swinging to the groove of the music.
Before the stage was an array of empty tables each with a different flower resting in its center vase. That explained the aroma, which permeated the air. The motif was everywhere. Depictions of flowers were on the napkins, seat cushions, and painted onto the walls. A gorgeous depiction of a blooming rose was carved onto the very top of the ceiling. The intricate sculpt of the flower and its cascading petals took Runt's breath away.
On the far opposite side of the stage was the bar lined with high stools. The elaborate display of drinks behind it was a library of alcohol if Runt had ever seen one. The bartender made himself busy scrubbing out glasses with a cloth. Besides him and the band, Club Bloom was empty.
"I got a bad feeling…"
Clementine nodded, "I'm with you on that one."
The two of them headed towards the bar. Clementine swiveled as they walked, taking in everything much like he did out in the woods. Like a star struck child who just wandered into a candy store. His open curiosity was no charade. After inspecting the cleanliness of the glass in his hands the bartender set it down and took up another.
"What can I get for you boys?"
Clementine slid the letter across the bar's shiny surface, "We're looking for Roland Teal. Is he around?"
"He is. I tell you what, how about a Smoky Grimm?" Swiveling to the beat of the jazz music the bartender snatched up bottle after bottle, drizzling the contents into two clean glasses. The drinks spun with an impressive showmanship. Underneath those glossy white gloves of his, the bartender had steady hands. Not a drop hit the bar. The many mixtures formed an inky liquid with a dusky froth layering the top.
The bartender pushed the two glasses towards them. "On the house." When neither made a move to accept the drinks the bartender laughed. "Really, boys. I know it looks like death, but that's why it's called a Smoky Grimm."
Clementine refused to reach for the drink. Runt on the other hand took up the concoction. Ever since his trip outside Refuge his desire for a drink multiplied. If drinking this odd-looking thing meant starting the meeting off on the right foot then he was happy to risk it. The Smoky Grimm singed his throat a little going down, but it wasn't half bad. A little bitter and strong, yet it had an almost sugary aftertaste like candy. Runt took another mouthful and set the glass down.
"Where is everyone?" he asked, "Figured a place like this would be packed this time of night."
The bartender scanned the letter, "Oh, it usually is, but I had the place cleared so that we could talk alone."
A smirk creased Clementine's face, "You're Roland Teal."
The bartender slipped the letter in a draw underneath the bar. "I see Spool's got himself another clever one. Tell me, are you going to accept his offer?"
Clementine's brows narrowed, "What are you talking about?"
"You know, once upon a time I stood in your position. Spool's prodigy. He took me in when no one else would. Taught me things I never thought I would understand. He's like a father to me."
"That practically makes us brothers then."
Teal brightened, "You think so?" The words were left hanging in the air. The true intent behind them veiled in its meaning. Runt shuffled his feet. This Roland Teal was something else. Too similar to Clementine. The two of them were actors on a stage. Their range of expressions were nothing but a performance. One thing was for sure though, Teal was the first whose gaze held longer on Clementine. That fact alone left Runt uneasy.
"How'd you manage to clear this place out?" asked Runt in hopes he'd break up whatever rivalry the two seemed to hint at.
Teal faced him, "I own the Bloom Club." What otherwise could've been a boast left his lips as nothing more than simple fact.
"You're the owner? Why would a man of such stature work the bar?"
"My first paying job I was a stagehand working under Spool at the World Theatre. Now I own the Flower District. Not as glamorous as one might think at first. A large part of it is cleaning up after your customers. Wasn't what I had in mind when I was young. So, I achieved my childhood ambitions and yet am worn down by them." Teal ran a hand through his thinning pale blond hair. It was combed in a way to try and disguise the receding hairline. "So to answer your question, Mr. Braun, I miss the simple work."
"I see…" The following gap of silence was filled with the fast-paced groove of the band on stage.
Teal hooked his thumbs in his suspenders. "Do you like the music? I find that every conversation is best with some background melody. That way the pauses in-between aren't so silent. I spent a lifetime cultivating the music scene here in Refuge. Do away with all my achievements except that and I'd still die a happy man. Over the years I've become a patron for many musicians, but the Fretless Siblings over there are one of the best in the business. Now I don't mind records or CDs, but there's just something about a live performance that's rather lacking when played through the radio. Maybe it's just my upbringing in the World theatre making me biased, but live performances just have more soul. Don't you agree?"
"I don't think I'm in a position to have an opinion." Said Runt, "Music isn't my area of expertise."
"That doesn't stop most people." Laughed Teal, "It takes a wise man to know what he doesn't know. Now I'm quite detached from the Mud District, but how's the music over there?"
"Not much to sing about these days, I'm afraid."
Clementine twirled the glass in his hand and watched the black liquid swirl around inside. "My sister used to sing to me."
"But not anymore?" asked Teal.
Clementine nodded, "Not anymore." The solemn tone shift left Runt unbalanced.
"I may have misled you," admitted Teal, "I don't own the Flower District, not all of it. The World Theatre marches to its own tune. It always has. Which is a shame considering the shambled state it's in. It's one thing to deny my patronage but…Every offer I make to help repair the World Theatre, Spool throws back in my face. He's made an active effort to spurn me at every turn for some time now. Which made me curious why he reached out to me in the first place. I wondered what could make such a stubborn old man swallow years of animosity and ask for my help. And now here you are. What is it I can do for you boys?"
Clementine opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself before he could. His lips moved as if he were chewing on the words he wanted to say. Already things between him and Teal were tense. Clementine was smart enough not to try and stress things further by speaking before thinking. Yet after a few seconds of silence it became abundantly clear to Runt that Clementine didn't know what to say. It wasn't like him to be at a loss of words. Even when he was small Clementine had been clever and silver tongued, but Runt noticed a pattern with his young friend. He was prone to flights of fancy. Behind every question was a story. Some kind of poetic narrative that linked the events of his life to reality. All those stories weaving together created a complex world to live in, which made certain mundane things rather difficult. What they wanted from Teal was so simple Clementine couldn't see it.
At last Runt spoke for Clementine. "We were hoping you might help us."
Teal raised an eyebrow, "Help? Help with what?"
"I think you know."
"Why would you assume such a thing?" asked Teal, unoffended.
"Because I find it hard to believe that a man who owns one fifth of the city doesn't know what's going on within it."
"I know many things. You're going to need to be a tad more specific on what you want my help with."
"Information." said Clementine, at last finding his voice. "Information about who it is we're fighting."
"Who you're fighting?" Teal pondered a moment, "The City Guard, Refuge, the Council, civilization…a woman. Take your pick. Any of those answers would suffice."
Clementine's smile was cold, "Now I'm afraid I have to ask you to be more specific."
"What if I refuse?" taunted Teal.
"Then I'll insist."
"You don't get to insist on anything. Not here…not with me. You may be Spool's favorite now, but if you ask me, I'd say the old man's gone senile. To leave his legacy in the grubby hands of some clod unable to understand or appreciate its full meaning. His judgment must be a shadow of what it once was."
Clementine shot to his feet, his arm swiping his drink off the bar. The glass shattered in an explosion of frothy black liquor. The music screeched to a halt in an instant. Clementine snatched Teal by the bartender's bowtie and pulled him half over the bar so that their faces were inches apart. The Patron showed no surprise or alarm in Clementine's anger.
"If you are what you claim to be," said Clementine in a low voice, "then you should show Spool more respect."
Teal searched Clementine's eyes a moment and smiled. "Defending the honor of your mentor…Good, perhaps you're not so dimwitted after all. Though easy to bait."
Runt laid a hand on Clementine's shoulder. "Relax. Before you do anything stupid, look behind you."
Clementine glanced over his shoulder. The Fretless Siblings stood at the ready. Their instruments wielded as weapons in their hands. Three bells of brass were aimed their way. The drummer wielded new metal tipped sticks as if they were dual daggers. The threatening stances were clear even from across the room. The celloist was the only one to not make a move, yet her gaze remained fixed on them all the same. Clementine relinquished his grip on Teal. With a wave from their patron the Fretless Siblings returned to normal. After a brief second the music started up once again.
"Like I said, the best in the city." Teal readjusted his bowtie, "Now, I am part of a group that oversees the operations of this city. I am the entertainment. My job is to keep the people happy and distracted if need be. Casinos, clubs, brothels…I've created an environment people all over Mistral risk traveling for to experience. Now personally, I have no love for the Mud District's treatment. But do not mistake that as pity or willingness to help you."
"Then why meet with us at all?" asked Runt.
"To stop you and your little movement. But out of respect for Spool, I can only hope I can convince you. Back off. You two started something you don't know how to finish. These people I'm associated with are not to be pushed around. You think your conquest over the Buffer was some kind of victory? You're giving them the excuse they need to march into the Mud District and wipe you all out."
"Nothing stopped them from trying before." Said Clementine, his anger brushing the edges of his voice.
"Yes, I'm aware. I know all about Moss' failed attempts to drive the people of the Mud District out of Refuge. First he thought he could purge you with fire. Then he manipulated one of your own. Next time won't be as indirect."
"If Moss wants a fight he'll get one."
"Moss is a coward, which makes him dangerous in his own way, but he's not the one you should be worried about. The man already exhausted his wits trying to get rid of you lot and he only succeeded in causing this mess."
Clementine eased back into the stool, "If Moss isn't the threat, then who is?"
"Why should I tell you?" Teal's lips sharpened to a straight line across his face, "Spool tells me you're a student of history. Is there any truth in that, Mr. Clementine?"
"I like to think so."
"Then why do you wish to fight? Is your situation really that bad? The majority in Vacuo live very much like you do, yet they aren't lashing out. They endure their harsh environments and live on. What do you know of your own history? Do you even know why the Mud District became isolated in the first place? During the Great War, disease and famine quarantined the district else risk its spread. While the outside world warred with itself the Mud District withered until rats were able to overwhelm what few orphans remained. People forget that not too long-ago Remnant was ruled by humans who committed acts far more monstrous than any Grimm. Why do we forget these things? As students of history is it not our job to remind the others? Why then do we continue to fight with each other? It's because of people like you, Mr. Clementine. Those who study and learn, but do not use that knowledge to prevent future catastrophe. No, you perfect it."
Clementine's hands twitched, just barely containing his cold rage. "I don't have to look to far in the past to learn of catastrophe. I've been educated on that topic since childhood and my instructors taught by example. I'm not talking about living conditions on the Mud District. Enduring is what we've done all our lives. Enduring and tolerating. Yet, Moss attacked us. He's taken lives and put others at risk. We won't let that stand any longer."
"Moss attacked your district, yes. But it wasn't until you took the Buffer did your people become in real danger."
"You expect us to just do nothing?" asked an aghast Runt, "After all we've seen?"
"It was just one fire six years ago."
"That's not what I'm talking about!" Sorrow bled from his wounded heart and Runt stood to his full height. Behind him the brass tubing of instruments transformed until horns were muzzles pointed at his back. Runt held himself steady. For a few precious seconds, no one in Club Bloom moved an inch. Runt's pounding heart dwindled and when he spoke it was just a mere whisper. "We know about the Quarry."
Those five soft words rocked Teal more than Runt expected. He stumbled back a step. The glass in his hands slipped and shattered on the bar floor. Teal stared at the mess, his face sagging, aging him by years. "That's two glasses I lost today. What a mess...What a mess." He leaned heavily on the bar, "So, you've already had your anagnorisis. I suppose it was inevitable that someone would find it eventually."
"How can you know about a place like that and do nothing?" asked Clementine, his voice slick with venom.
"You think I can?" old hatred burned like acid in Teal's eyes, "What power I have is limited to the Flower District. Anything outside of that is beyond my reach."
"You despise it," observed Runt, "I see it…If you won't help us, then help them. We have no jurisdiction. Nothing to lose. We can change things in this city for the better."
Teal wrung his gloved hands together, "Everyone has something to lose. Even if you don't know it. Whether change is for the better or worse, its destructive regardless. Change crushes the old to move forward. You wish to bring about change then you better be the harbingers of destruction."
"We'll be whatever we need to be to succeed." Said Clementine.
Teal glanced between the two of them. His flat greenish-blue eyes hid more than they revealed. "Refuge is home to many people. Artisans, politicians, merchants, club owners...All are dependent on one thing, trade. It's what drives this city. Without it everything will grind to a halt. So no matter what you do, it won't matter unless the Tradeboss is dealt with."
"What's his name?"
"Her name, is Ira Glass."
"I've never heard of her." Said Runt.
"Did you ever hear my name before tonight? That's the way things have to be now. Quiet. Ira Glass realized same as I that power in a world like ours is most effective when it is least perceived. You've been to the Quarry…Have you met the Ophidians then?"
Runt thought for a moment, "You mean the mercenaries with the snake skins and scale armor?"
"Yes, I suppose they are mercenaries. They come from a time when things here were loud. When every criminal needed a name to be shouted out and feared. Hence their childish epithet."
"Who are they?"
Roland Teal gave a careless shrug, "They are what remains. The ones who survived Ira."
"You make it sound like they were enemies."
"They were on opposite sides of the conflict, yes. The Ophidians were once hired muscle used by the criminal organizations that came before. Grunts and brutes mostly low level. When their bosses were gone and their organizations in flames they alone were what remained. Left without a voice to lead them. Or a purpose to guide them. They were given a choice to leave Refuge or stay and work for her. Many were initially opposed to signing up with their enemy but the benefits of twice the pay and half the risk wasn't too hard to sell to the majority. So, they agreed to exile themselves to the Quarry and have since become the serpents of the pit."
Clementine stood on wobbly knees that only Runt could see. "Where can we find this Tradeboss?"
"What? You plan on assassinating her?"
Clementine didn't say anything.
"Good luck to you." Scoffed Teal, "Where she lives is a closely guarded secret known only to two. Ward and Alvaro, her most trusted bodyguards. They will bite off their tongues before saying anything. Even if I did know I would not tell you. Though I don't agree with everything she's done, Ira is still my partner. She helped me build all that I have here in the Flower District."
Clementine sneered, "So you won't aid us?"
"I've helped you enough already. Too much in fact. Yet still I will gift you with one more piece of advice. For the sake of your district, stop while you still can."
Before they could get another word in Roland Teal knelt and started to clean up the broken glass. In the blink of an eye he became just an ordinary bartender. He slipped into the role with an ease that unsettled Runt. Their meeting with Roland Teal came to an end there. It had gone better than Runt expected and yet, Clementine was downcast. No matter his pestering's Clementine refused to give voice as to why. All Runt knew is that Clementine turned white as paste since the mention of Ira Glass. He stayed that way for the rest of the night.