A/N: So this is some kind of urban fantasy 1920's AU. The big inspiration for this came from blueberry-hope's 1920's art and the tabletop role playing game Blades in the Dark. (Which is why this fic has such an identity crisis…)

If you would like a more grounded and well researched 1920's AU, allow me to point you towards An Uncommon Witness by Mangaka-chan and its sequel An Uncommon Proposal. (If you haven't read them already lol)

Let me know what you think and how I can improve.

The City of Gold Crown was wreathed in the bronze hue of the early twilight. It had been so long since the people had seen the sun or stars. Not since the Raven extended his dark shadow over them. In the beginning, most thought it was the end of the world. An understanding way to feel, and if you think differently, I wonder how you would handle watching your sunlight suddenly dim out and never return! The chaos in the streets only increased when strange birdlike men began terrorizing anyone who did not cower before them. But there's always some groups of people who don't take to fear so easily. Small skirmishes seemed to happen all the time between these gangs and the Raven's minions (and sometimes with each other). It took quite some time before all parties seemed to settle into their own territories. (Don't think skirmishes and violence left the streets after that though.) By the time folks had accepted the chaos, they finally noticed the stars were gone from the night sky as well.

A perpetual twilight, as the Raven liked it!

Oh but yes, the Raven! Allow me to clarify the Raven. He was a mysterious being to all but a very select few. He was a strangely powerful and magical man who came out of nowhere and claimed he owned all control over the city, and perhaps what was beyond. Though that was more of an open secret, seeing as those in power were not removed… well most of the time. So long as they didn't address the Raven publicly and privately obeyed his every whim.

With the Raven constantly lingering over everyone, the people of Gold Crown became the private sort. After all, you never knew if or when the Raven was listening. A family member or friend could say cruel things about the Raven on the streets, then disappear the very next night. With that and the complete darkness of the night, folks retreated into homes and buildings. That increased the popularity of things such as speakeasies, movies, or dance halls for entertainment. People were so bored from hiding that they had to find ways to entertain themselves! Especially once it was discovered the Raven couldn't hear everything if he wasn't invited in. Even so, people would still be cautious. It was common to say 'The walls have eyes' to someone revealing too much information or to address one's feelings of paranoia.

Oh dear! Where was I? Ah, right! The bronze hue of the early twilight.

There was a dark haired man sitting at the desk of his private detective office, looking over the telegram sent to him. This man's name was Fakir. He was the closed off sort. Someone who lived a life in private solitude, if for no other reason than to feel nothing at all. He prided himself on not letting distractions get the best of him. (A skill he felt necessary for his detective work.)

The telegram left cryptic instructions for Fakir to meet 'an old friend' at a secure location. Most definitely one of these speakeasies. The detective glared at the message, reading it over and over to find any tells as to who this old friend was. There was a terrible but exciting feeling of who he thought it could be. Of course, there was a reason they stopped talking to each other…

Fakir sighed. If it was him, then it was likely something was very wrong. He found himself fingering the small chain hidden under his shirt. His nervous tick when things felt ominous. He looked at the clock on the wall. If these instructions were to be believed, he would probably need to leave soon. He looked at the message one last time before he gathered his hat and coat and headed out the door.

The cool late afternoon air greeted him as he locked up. He kept his eyes up as he followed the instructions left on the telegram. It was always wise to keep watch before the darkness came. 'The walls have eyes.' He thought. He took the long way as expected by the message. The bronze hue slowly dissolved into the pure dark of the starless night. The sparse street lights lit the stone pavement. 'Another five steps then look to the left.' He recalled. Tucked in a corner behind a set of stairs was a small door. This had to be it. He walked up to the door and knocked twice. A small panel slid open where a pair of eyes were seen. "Can I help you?"

"The prince dances along the lake." Fakir replied. The panel slid closed and the door opened. Fakir stepped through the narrow opening. The bouncer closed the door instantly. "I can take your hat and coat." He said.

"Thanks." Fakir said and handed over his things.

"The party is to the left." said the bouncer.

Fakir only nodded and opened the door on his left. He was greeted by the roaring sounds of jazz music, glasses clinking and people chattering. He scanned the room for any familiar faces. Off to his right was a simple staircase that led up to a skywalk to look over the whole ground floor, a large dance floor in the center of the room with a stage behind it for the band to play with plenty of tables dotted around the room, and of course to the back of the room was the bar, busy as expected. Two faces caught his eye. The first was who he expected on the dance floor, his old friend Mytho. He was dancing, as he always loved to do. Though the young woman he was with was someone he'd never seen before. A rather spirited redhead with short bobbed hair in a knee-high dark red dress.

The second face he noticed was who he thought would be dancing with Mytho, his wife Rue. Rue was standing with her back against the bar, watching the two dance with a smile as she sipped her drink. She stood out as she always did in her floor length dark dress. She was clearly overdressed, and she was proud of it. Exactly what you would expect from the daughter of an Old Money family.

With his hands in his pockets, Fakir walked to Rue. "I'm surprised you're not out there with him." He said to her.

She didn't look at him, "I will when he's done." She turned her attention to him, "It's been a while. Glad you could make it."

"Hard to resist a letter from an old friend."

"Mytho thought that would get your attention." She paused, "Can I get you a drink?"

"Whiskey?"

"Sure." She gestured to the bartender, who hurried over with a small glass and a bottle of whiskey. He poured the drink and handed it to the detective. "Thanks." He said. He looked back at the dance floor with Rue. "Who's the girl?"

"Hmm? The redhead?" Rue said, "She's become a regular here."

"You're not worried about her dancing with your husband?" He was mostly teasing, though the way they were dancing it seemed like she was a little too friendly with Mytho.

Rue smirked behind her glass, "She dances with everyone. If you stay here long enough, she might drag you out there next."

"That's never going to happen." He mumbled into his whiskey before taking a big swig. The old friends watched the two dance until the song ended. They seemed to chat for a second before Mytho turned his attention to the bar. Fakir raised his glass as a means to wave before taking another sip. Mytho seemed to excuse himself from the young woman's company before he made his way over to them. The redhead was actually pretty quick to find someone else to whisk her back onto the floor. 'Rue wasn't kidding about her dancing with everyone.' He thought. He noticed pretty quickly how friendly she was with her next dance partner. 'Rather flighty lady isn't she?'

Mytho had that same warm smile on his face when seeing Fakir. The two shook hands. "I'm really happy to see you answered my message."

"Well when a friend calls, it would be rude to decline. So what's this about?" Fakir asked.

Mytho shook his head, "Not out here. Follow me to my office." Fakir finished his drink, then followed his friend to a door off in a corner by the stage. After walking down a short hallway, the two men entered an office hidden behind the stage. It was a large room with a simple oak desk, several shelves full of books and small ornate boxes, plenty of chairs, and a bar set in the corner. Mytho closed the door behind them.

"I apologize for the secrecy, Fakir. But it is really good to see you again." Mytho said with a smile.

"It's good to see you too." Fakir replied, his expression unreadable.

Mytho's face hardened, "Unfortunately, it's not on good times. I'm afraid this meeting is because I'm asking for your services."

Fakir frowned, "My services?"

Mytho looked away, "It's a lot to explain."

"Is it about the Raven?"

"Partly." He gestured for Fakir to take a seat in front of his desk. Fakir obliged. Mytho took his seat behind the large desk. "I need you to solve a missing persons case."

"What does the Raven have to do with this?"

"As you know, the Raven has been controlling Gold Crown for the longest time. I've felt the need to mitigate his damage by helping his victims as much as I can. I've done what I can to build contacts and resources to do that."

Fakir felt a stir of anger and sorrow at his friend's words. "Mytho, you know that's not your responsibility."

"Isn't it though? He is or was my brother at one point."

Fakir's gaze went to his feet. The memories were still a blur. It seemed so long ago when Sigfreid became the Raven. Sometimes he could still see his silhouette before it was consumed by dark wings and red eyes. He could feel that burning sensation across his chest all over again. He couldn't bring himself to remember what the Raven said when he attacked them. After that happened though, Fakir closed himself off. It was safer for him to keep his emotions in check, keep himself at an arm's length, and to have absolutely no distractions. He tried to occupy his time with detective work. He witnessed a lot of troubles, but a common thread he experienced was getting too close was dangerous. Instead, keeping his distance would keep him from getting hurt ever again. There were plenty of other ground rules he had, but there was no need to get into that now.

He wrenched his mind back from the foggy memories. "Well, you didn't ask me here to reminisce on the past. So why did you?" Fakir asked.

"Well, when it comes to running this little underground network Rue and I have been building, we don't have much in the department of finding missing people."

"So, you came to me." Fakir finished.

Mytho nodded. He seemed to be shifting nervously at this next sentence. "Yes. I was hoping you could help in this case and maybe if you're willing… join our network."

Fakir was quiet. After all this time, all the distance between him and Mytho. Now he spoke to him like nothing had changed. As if they could pick back up where they left off. Fakir would be lying if he said there wasn't a small part of him that was really happy about that. Even though he had avoided him over so much time, Mytho didn't hold that against him. Then he remembered, this was for work. Work that would most likely cause a lot of dust ups with the Raven or his minions. Something he was definitely not fond of going through again. That burning pain flashed across his chest again. The anger he couldn't bring himself to address followed shortly after. Would this be worth going through again?

Weighing his options, Fakir decided he wanted to know just what he would be in for. "I'm not saying I'll join your network. But if I did, what would you have me do?"

Mytho nodded. He knew this wouldn't be an easy sell at face value. "For the most part, what you already do. Find missing people or solve mysteries that others bring forward. We may ask you to do other tasks should the situation call for it. It all just depends on what happens and who is available." He was quick to add, "It's to help people from the Raven."

Fakir didn't answer right away. He meditated on this offer. Honestly, the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. (Though he suspected that Mytho asking for his help was tipping the scales a bit.) He sighed, "I guess I can look into it."

"So you'll do it?" Mytho seemed excited.

"I will."

"Wonderful! I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am that you'll do this for me." He was talking very fast now.

"Slow down, Mytho. I can't help if you don't tell me what's going on."

Mytho sighed, "Sorry. This is really important. The man who asked for help said his name was Paulo. His wife Paulamoni went missing fairly recently. I can get you his address so you can get what you need from him."

"Seems simple enough. Unless there's more?"

Mytho nodded. "Since you're doing this on my behalf, there are a few things you'll need to know." Mytho opened a drawer from the desk. He took out a pin that looked like a red swan in flight with blue butterfly wings over it and handed it to him. "When you go there, show him this pin. If he asks are you a Red Swan, say yes. That's how he'll know you're with us. Don't give out your real name. To him or any of the other contacts in the network. Secrecy is to our advantage. Your Callsign is Lohengrin. It's best to not get too personal with the other contacts. If you're not sure about a situation with another contact, let Rue or I know. Lastly, Rue has assigned you an info broker as your partner. She'll be there when you need assistance or find out information you need."

"She?" Fakir shook his head, "I'd rather not work with a woman."

Mytho looked surprised. "Is there a reason why?"

"A woman always makes things complicated." Fakir said flatly. To you, this would come across as unfair or unjust. Especially at face value. However, from Fakir's experience a woman was often the source of a man's pain. There were countless cases of unfaithful wives leaving their man to burn, or a woman being uncooperative when she came to him for help. Only in the rare cases, like Mytho and Rue, had Fakir ever seen it work out between a man and his wife. He didn't know how, but those two made it look so simple. And as stated before, Fakir preferred being at arms length. If that meant avoiding working with a woman, so be it.

Mytho sighed, "I'm sorry you feel that way, but Rue says she's one of her best. Besides, she's an info broker. She'll mostly be working in the background. You won't talk with her unless it's necessary."

"If you say so." Fakir grumbled.

Fakir gathered what he needed and headed out the office, not bothering to know more about this partner of his. As he walked out the exit, he saw Rue chatting with that redhead. He nodded to them before leaving. Once he walked out, Rue patted the redhead's hand, "I think I'll go speak with Mytho. Be a doll and don't wander off too far." She gave a wink before heading into her husband's office. She found Mytho by the bar set, fixing himself a glass of whiskey. He must have been nervous.

"What did he say?" Rue asked. Mytho looked up from the bar set. His eyes were a mix of relief, fear and regret. "He said he'll help with this case. But I can't be certain he'll join our bevy." He swirled his glass before taking a swig, "Other than the obvious risks he'll be taking, he's not fond of his partner you assigned him."

Rue arched one brow, "Does he know who she is?"

Mytho shook his head, "He said he prefers to not work with a woman." He smiled sheepishly, "But I think I was able to convince him to give her a chance."

Rue shook her head. She should have known this wouldn't have been as easy. Yet for some reason she still believed Fakir was still like his old self that they once knew "I guess the years had not been kind to him."

"After how I failed him, I'm not all that surprised." Mytho said glumly, "Maybe this time though, I can start mending that mistake."

Rue took her husband's hand. "I hope so too."

Fakir's walk on the way to Paulo's place was uneventful, which was definitely a good thing. Although that didn't last long. Before he made the final corner, he saw her. That redhead from before. What was she doing here? How did she get here before him? She appeared to be searching all around before her eyes settled on him. They held each other's gaze for a moment, then the girl turned and ran down the alley she came from.

"Hey!" Fakir shouted as he chased after her, but when he got to the alleyway, she was gone. 'I don't like this…' he thought. The urge to grab his chain rose. Instead he settled for lighting a cigarette from his coat pocket. Taking a long slow inhale of tobacco, he stared down the alleyway. He wasn't sure if this feeling of paranoia was justified or to chalk it up to being so close to one of the city's boundaries. Either way he hated being here. Not wanting to waste any more time, he stamped out his cigarette and moved on.

He went back on his way to Paulo's place, trying to be mindful if anyone else was following him. He found himself before a small building on the far side of the city. This was it. He knocked on the door and waited. A pale broad-shouldered man answered the door. He looked like he hadn't slept in a few days. "Who are you?" He said.

Fakir quickly opened the inner collar of his coat to reveal the swan pin. He understood immediately. "Come inside."

Fakir followed him in. The man, Paulo, led Fakir through the building and into a sitting room. Paulo offered Fakir a seat so they could talk.

"I was starting to worry if someone would ever come. Who are you?"

Fakir caught himself before saying his real name, "Lohengrin."

Paulo nodded, "Well, I guess there's no point wasting any time. As I'm sure you know, my wife Paulamoni went missing about two days ago. It was so sudden. The only thing I found was her shoe in the alley way close by here."

Fakir's eyes narrowed after hearing that comment. 'The same alleyway that girl disappeared in.'

"Did you notice any strange behavior from her before she disappeared? Anyone she was talking to?" He asked.

Paulo shook his head. "She was a little quiet. When I tried to ask if something was bothering her, she shut me out. Other than that, I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary."

"What was going on with you two before?"

Paulo sighed, "We had found out it would be difficult for us to have a child. I had assumed that was the reason she was so closed off. Unless something happened that she hadn't told me about."

'That's likely…' he thought. "Anything else worth noting?" Paulo shook his head in response.

"I'll see what I can do." Fakir said before getting up and leaving. Keeping his eyes open, he made his way to the alleyway. That nervous tick hit again, as he rolled part of the chain between his two fingers. 'Let's get this over with.' He thought. Steeling his nerves, Fakir walked down the alley. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary. When he came to the end, the alleyway turned into a fork. Before he would decide which direction to head next, something on the ground caught his eye. He knelt down to get a better look. "Raven's feathers." He said to himself. He heard a quick gust of wind behind him. Reaching into his coat, Fakir got up and pivoted towards the sound. He was face to face with one of the Raven's minions.

Now it would be difficult to describe the minions. The general idea was they were once people who took on more of the Raven's image… to monstrous results. This one seemed to have feathers growing out of his arms, and a malformed face that seemed almost bat-like. Their loyalties were to the Raven, and only the Raven.

Fakir brandished his revolver from his coat. The minion hissed, "My master has no quarrel with you!"

"Then why are you following me?" He asked firmly.

"I seek the dark haired woman! She owes my master a favor!"

'Dark haired woman? Was that Paulamoni?' He continued, "What for?"

"She wished to become pregnant! Master's powers granted her wish! Now she owes him!" The minion parroted.

'Yeah, that's her.' Fakir grit his teeth. "You aren't with anyone else? A redhead, perhaps?" He jerked his revolver forward as a threat.

The minion grimaced. "I know of no redhead. I seek only the dark haired woman."

Fakir's frown deepened. 'So assuming he's not lying, that girl isn't involved in Paulamoni's disappearance. I'll have to wonder about her later. Now how to deal with this minion and find Paulamoni.' He groaned internally as a terrible idea crossed his mind, 'Here goes nothing.'

"Do you know where she is?" Fakir asked, keeping his revolver aimed at the minion.

The minion hissed, "My master can't see where he isn't welcomed."

'Figures he's useless…' He thought.

"How can I pay off Paulamoni's debt?"

The minion's bat ears perked up. "You would take on her favor?"

"If it will get the Raven to leave her alone."

The minion rolled his eyes back. It was probably communicating with its master. Fakir winced at the sight. These things were unnatural! He tightened the grip on his revolver and waited. There was a strange shift in the air that disappeared as soon as it came. The minion's eyes turned the right way around. "The deal is made. My master will call for his favor from you when the time is right. The dark haired woman's debt is paid." The minion leaped off the balls of his feet and took to the sky. Fakir shuttered at what just happened as he slowly holstered his revolver. He could feel a strange sensation of weight in his chest. Probably the Raven's magic making its claim over him now. He lit another cigarette and pondered what he was going to do next. Now that Paulamoni's debt was paid, hopefully that will draw her out. He looked between the two pathways. To his left led deeper into the city, to his right far out of the city and beyond. There was no way she could have gone that way! No one dared leave outside of the Raven's boundary. He had to go to the left. Would he find any clues? Unlikely… but possibly.

Fakir searched everywhere in that maze of alleyways, but he really didn't know his way around these back passages! The thought that he should regroup with Mytho and his contacts to figure out where else Paulamoni could have gone crossed his mind. But he wasn't ready for that yet. In the meantime, he should probably inform Paulo as to what he knew. Maybe he could provide some insight as to where Paulamoni could have ended up.

After some time finding his way back, Fakir knocked on Paulo's door. No doubt he would be anxious to hear anything about his wife. What he didn't expect was for a dark haired woman to answer the door.

Her face lit up seeing him. "Please come in!"

Fakir arched his brow, but went inside. Paulo ran to him and pumped his arm vigorously. "Thank you, Lohengrin! I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am that you found my wife!"

Fakir was stunned silent. Paulamoni went on. "I was just telling my husband how you saved me from the Raven's minions."

"No… problem." Fakir managed to say. He let go of Paulo's hand. "If there's anything else…"

"No!" Paulamoni said quickly. Fakir and Paulamoni shared a look. He could tell she was pleading for him to go along with it. Fakir wasn't fond of this idea. Her pleading eyes remained. He sighed,"Just don't make a habit of it, ma'am." He said. She nodded, understanding the double meaning.

Fakir headed back to the speakeasy shortly after so he could inform Mytho on the success of the case. Though he didn't know what to make of it since Paulamoni came back on her own, and he had no information on what she experienced and how she got back before him. He had to guess once that weight left her chest, she knew her debt was paid off. But how did she know him before he found her? Where did her story come from?

Once inside, he didn't see Mytho, but who he did see was that mysterious redhead from earlier. She was sitting by herself at one of the tables with a glass of gin. Well, he probably wouldn't have another opportunity like this. He took a seat next to her. He saw in her eyes she was surprised, but she kept that friendly smile. "Oh, hello. Didn't I see you leave earlier?"

"I could say the same about you." He said.

She cocked her head to the side, "I'm sorry?" She had a ditsy look on her face that any fool would believe. Luckily, Fakir was no fool. He glared long and hard at her, but she didn't budge from her confused act. "Is something wrong?" She asked.

He propped his head up over his fist to lean on his elbow. "Riddle me this: a detective was asked to find a missing woman. On his way there, he spies a curious redhead who disappears after he sees her." Her confused face curved into a smirk as he went on, "He never sees the redhead again until after the case was solved. What do you think happened?"

She sighed, "Well, I'm not much for riddles, but since you asked." She took a sip of her drink and looked off in the distance. "The redhead wasn't supposed to be seen by the detective. She was following her own lead as to where the missing woman was."

Fakir was actually surprised she said that much, but now he had to wonder. "So what did she find out?"

She started to play with the straw in her drink. "The missing woman was hiding in a shelter far enough into the city. It wasn't hard to figure out since the redhead knew the backways around the city. When they found out the detective paid off her debt, the redhead helped take the woman back to her home."

'So that's how she got there before I did. So if that fabricated story came from her, that probably meant one thing...' Fakir looked at her to say more, but she kept quiet. He sighed. "You're the info broker Rue assigned to me."

She was quick to look back at him with a playful smile. "Took you long enough."

He was a little annoyed at that smug response from her. "Callsign?"

"Tutu. Your's?"

"Lohengrin."

"Well Lohengrin, you'll see me when you need me." She winked. Before she got up to leave, he grabbed her arm to sit her back down.

"Now hold on a minute." He said, "There's some ground rules we need to discuss first."

Now she was confused, "Like what?"

"If you're going to work with me, I expect professional behavior. I've seen how you act around here, and I'm not fond of it."

She rolled her eyes, "How I act around here is my profession. This is how I work." She tried to pry off his hand that Fakir forgot was still on her arm. He pulled it away quickly. "After what happened tonight, I don't think so. You admitted to me you weren't supposed to get spotted when you did! Though I guess getting noticed by strangers is what you do best, right?"

He saw it in her eyes that she was mad, but she kept the appearance that everything was fine. She leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I know what I'm doing. Trust me." She spoke so low and sweet it was almost terrifying.

He pulled away, in part because he didn't like her being so close to him. "No. I don't think I do. Trust is something earned. And you've got a long way to go."

She leaned in again to get a good look at his face. Fakir was startled by those calm yet piercing blue eyes of hers. Her face softened to a smile. "Anything else? Or are you going to lecture me some more."

He shook his head. She nodded sharply, "Then I'll be seeing you." She walked away and flipped her hair. He rubbed his forehead and sighed deeply. What was he in for now that he was stuck with this woman?