the dark ⋆ fire ⋆ open water ⋆ deep water ⋆ being alone ⋆ crowded spaces ⋆ confined spaces ⋆ change ⋆ failure ⋆ war ⋆ loss of control ⋆ powerlessness ⋆ prison ⋆ blood ⋆ drowning  ⋆ suffocation ⋆ public speaking ⋆ natural animals ⋆ the supernatural ⋆  heights ⋆ death/dying ⋆ (emotional) intimacy ⋆ rejection ⋆ abandonment ⋆ loss ⋆ the unknown ⋆ the future ⋆ not being good enough ⋆ scary stories ⋆ speaking to new people ⋆ poverty ⋆ loud noises ⋆ being touched ⋆ forgetting ⋆ remembering ⋆ loving

Almost as though she hadn’t even heard him, Colette took another step towards the dunes. “I have to go,” she told him, “If someone’s in danger, it would be awful to just leave them. I can’t… do that.”

She turned once more to look back at Blood over her shoulder. “I don’t know anything about this desert, but I’m sure it has to be dangerous, Mr. Blood. If you’re afraid, you can wait here while I go look, okay?”

Colette pulled her shawl closer around her for a bit of warmth before summoning her wings. Walking on the sand like this was going to be difficult; it would be easier to hover over it instead. Having been here for a while now, Colette guessed—hoped—that her angelic spells would be usable without knocking her out in the process.

Blood winced with an awful grimace on his face. He could always decide it was not worth the bother and leave the girl to die out in the desert by herself. His rational brain could not deny it was an option. For some reason though, the idea of leaving Colette to her devices left a dreadful aftertaste. All the thoughts he had previously of being thankful she was not his ward...and somehow he found himself in this situation. Blood scratched at the back of his neck in irritation, and let out an offended grumble at the insinuation that he would be afraid of anything.

The man just wasn’t an idiot to take such risks! Normally, he would let the other party get their comeuppance in due time. Colette and those innocent puppy-dog eyes of hers? Wishing that upon her felt criminal, and not in a fun way. Like a crime against mankind.

“Translucent wings?!” he blurted out once Colette summoned them. This girl wasn’t human at all. Was she some kind of fey creature?  “Who, or rather may I ask, what are you really?” This question was mostly rhetorical.

“Right? It’s so eerie…” Night fell and this place seemed to become a ghost town. I hope not literally, Colette thought with a shiver. That was one explanation for the strange whispers she wasn’t eager to entertain.

Her brows furrowed as she looked from Blood back out to the dunes. “I didn’t hear anything like that either. But…” Colette squinted, holding a hand over her eyes like a visor to protect them from a small gust of sand. A sound like sobbing carried on the wind, deepening her frown. 

“There, you hear it too, don’t you?” Colette took another step forward, poised taut like a bowstring ready to launch to the mysterious person’s rescue. “It sounds like someone in trouble, or lost. We can’t just leave them there!”

“Unfortunately I did, ye~s.” Blood blinks slowly at her. He didn’t like where this was going. Not that he believed in ghosts, but rather he thought it must have been some trick of the desert. Everyone was prone to dehydration out here and he didn’t feel like getting caught out there once the sun came up. 

“You have got to be joking, young lady. We certainly can. It is undoubtedly wiser to do so. One person in distress is better than three.” He was ready to turn back to the hotel room and wake up fresh in the morning. Maybe if he was feeling kind he would poke around the hotel to see if he could find a single floor worker--a receptionist, janitor, security, anyone that could go investigate rather than him being inconvenienced. But it seemed like he had fallen in line with a do-gooder once again. One with very low instincts of self-preservation. 

He can’t really follow all of the haughty talking. But he takes note of the mention that this Blood-guy might need a loud distraction or a good shot one day. A job, maybe? He and Bebop could need a new boss. One who doesn’t ship them to Brazil to get rid of them. But he’d need to talk with Bee about that first. 

    “Say, you have any more cigs on you?” He’s not smoking regularly, but he likes to mooch a cig when the opportunity is there. And he didn’t get to smoke one in a while actually because Bebop doesn’t smoke at all.

In the meantime, he searches his pockets and pulls out a crumpled paper block and a broken red crayon from his vest. As far as the latter goes, he pulls his knife from his belt while holding the paper block between his teeth now, and sharpens it. Then he holds out the sharpened crayon and the now moist paper block to Blood for making the notes.

Blood looks curiously at his own cigar. Normally when someone referred to a cig they were talking about a cigarette, but a cigar would probably be about the right proportionate size to this big guy. Blood shrugged to himself and took a cigar box from his pocket and offers it and a a lighter towards him. 

Blood watches listlessly as he puts the block of paper in his mouth. He’s astounded that he would still hand it over covered in his slobber. Blood takes it by the corner, clearly showing his disgust, and mutters “Ew.” under his breath before flopping the pad down on the stall behind him. He writes directions to a house in the Derelicts and notable landmarks nearby to help guide him. Then he pushes the notebook back over towards the brute.

Alice scoffed a laugh at Blood’s suggestion, teasingly pushing him away. “No way. I need my blood more than you do, you’re gonna have to find some other neck.” She gestured in front of them, suggesting he had the pick of any passersby he could possibly want. A vampiric buffet.

She sighed. “It definitely is a relief. But it’s almost strange, now, being… not strange. I really am just a nobody again.” Now Alice laughed again, a little self-derisively. “Hopefully you won’t be bored of me now that the novelty of having a beating heart will wear off.” 

Though, she couldn’t say that was a true fear of hers. At least, not one at the forefront of her mind. Alice had spent enough time with Blood now that they were certainly friends. 

Still, it was difficult to resist doubting herself.

“I think so too,” she mused. “I have no idea what a place like this has to offer. It’s like being back at square one.” Alice still had that weird glass bottle with her, but she had no idea how it was supposed to work here. Or would it be the same? “I can’t say I don’t miss some of the others back in Wonderland… Elliot, the twins… Maybe it’s selfish, but I’m glad you came with me.”

When he was shoved his expression morphed into a pout. In his mind, this was her brushing off his words as a simple meaningless flirtation. His first reaction was to rebuke what she said, but on second thought it was silly to get invested in this vampiric fantasy. But, then she began being self-deprecating again. He let her finish, but he rose from his slouching position, because he didn’t find it very funny. 

“I see you’ve come to find yourself cozy with my family. A long road from where you initially started, young lady. I’m glad you think so highly of us. It’s the highest praise I could hope for.” He turns to look directly at her. “It would be amiss of me not to correct you on something, however.”

“Your beating heart isn’t the reason that I enjoy your presence. Whether or not you’re an Outsider has never forced me to like you, despite what that worm might tell you. If that was all I cared about, I’d have gotten bored a long time ago. But I haven’t.” Besides, it sickened him to think that the rules stated he had to like someone. He didn’t have to do anything except play the game. His choices were his own. “I rather despise the idea that everyone must love an Outsider.” He scowls.

I didn’t want to be one of them.

He certainly didn’t love everyone from that world. Most sickened him. He also wasn’t in the habit of keeping people around that annoyed him. He’d already excommunicated his grave digger and shot another man in the head for sullying his tea party.

Well!

Looks like she struck gold tonight.

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t.” Zora says with a snort, taking another sip of her drink. “But Ah’ appreciate th’ offer–an’ th’ advice–all th’ same. Sure, Ah’ll take yew up on that.” Now what to ask…? She’s not quite sure if she should reveal the exact details of her profession quite yet, and…well, this was a pretty bustling bar. Maybe not the best place to discuss such matters…

“M’open t’ negotiation, though maybe nawt here. Too many eyes an’ ears, hm? An’ believe yew me, the company Ah’ tend t’ keep–well, yeah. Gotta put up with a lotta bullshit fer work, so t’ speak. Ah’ guess in mah case yew could call it more of a cultural thang then just work.” Yeah, she can give him that much. “So fair point.”

“But Ah’ ain’t no bootlicker, that’s fer damn sure. Wouldn’t catch me DEAD with a sheriff star.”

“Anyways! M’Zora. Howdy do an’ all that. Guess Ah’ had yew pegged all wrong. Lemmie buy yew a drink sometahm t’ make up for it, yeah?”

Having an informant would make things a lot easier on her finding her marks if she ever needed a point in the right direction. They guy knew what he was talking about, at least. The way his gaze flicked over to the crowd–clearly, the man has experience. That’s exactly what she’s looking for.

“I can respect a need for discretion. Another day then. One must protect their own interests and secrets. You never know who amongst the rabble has loose lips.” (It was definitely him, only if it made for a good time.) Blood wasn’t really in the habit of keeping his business a secret, but this was another world with another set of rules. Details were confidential of course, but as long as he didn’t give out any of those he had no reason to keep it a secret that he was a crook. 

“Oh, I understand quite clearly.” Like he said, similar positions. Mafia life was also its own kind of culture, even if much different.

“Excellent. But perhaps a bit disappointing to hear you don’t take trophies. Don’t hunters love to have something to mount on their walls?” Blood smirked. She talked a big game surely, but he was curious to see just how much brutality she had in her. 

Blood motions to a waiter carefully swerving through the hall to order his own drink. After the number of idiots he’d had to deal with lately--mafia groups that didn’t know their right foot from their left, it was nice to find someone worth his time.

What a strange place this resort was. Colette hadn’t done much exploring in the desert before, and had stretched her trip out to make it to the Stepping Stone. During the day it had been bright and lively, reminding her of the desert town she’d visited so early in her journey in Sylvarant. By the time the sun began to set, between the excitement and the harsh sunlight, she was too exhausted to make her way back home.

But when eerie noises kept waking her through the night during her stay in the lodge, Colette began to wish she had tried anyway.

Help me. Help me…

Was that what she was hearing? Colette couldn’t understand the words, but the sentiment of them sounded like a call for help, an urgency drawing her back out into the chilled night air before she even realized what she was doing. Luckily she’d spared enough of a thought to draw on a shawl she’d bought earlier that day, a bright red stitched with golden colored thread. Oddly, there was no moon here, but the thread caught the light of the lamps lighting the street and almost shone.

With her sharpened senses, her brow furrowed as she searched the dunes outside of the resort. The whispers continued, unrelenting. One step forward, then another…

When someone grabbed her wrist, she almost screamed. Almost.

“Blood!” Her heart was pounding, threatening to leap out of her chest. Colette exhaled a sigh when she saw a familiar face… but now she felt nervous in another way. Blood didn’t like her… right? But still, he had approached her with something almost bordering on concern, despite his apathetic tone betraying none of that.

“Thank goodness. Did you hear that?” Colette turned back to look at the dunes again. “It sounded like someone calling out. Is there… is someone in trouble? Do you know?”

“Yes?!” Blood flinched when Colette quickly turned to him. She was definitely on edge. Blood let go when he was certain that she wasn’t actually in a trance. He stared at her inquisitively, for one because he wasn’t sure why she was relieved it was him, but secondly because he hadn’t heard anyone calling out. Blood closed his eyes for a moment as another gust of wind swept through the resort, focusing more closely on the sounds as they passed.

“Sssomeone... help...closer...help” 

The message was patchwork, and before she pointed it out maybe it was mistaking it for the whistling wind. He opened his eyes in confusion and placed a gloved hand over his ear. When he removed it, he could swear that he heard the sounds of a person sobbing.

“I apologize, but I just awoke not too long ago. I haven’t heard of anyone going missing in the dunes but...by the time I slipped out of the hotel everyone had vanished. There wasn’t even a receptionist at the desk.”

This guy seems to know his way around here. And what he is talking about. Rocksteady attempts to lean against the stall all casually while listening, but a suspicious creaking sound has him change his mind about that. He pretends nothing happened as he reveals the type of weapons he owns. “I got a modified HK-33 and HK-SFP9.” He points at his back, where the former is hanging on a strap over his shoulder. But there is still his mention lingering that he needs something with more punch. He at last decides to elaborate a little more about his needs. “Maybe I go for a grenade launcher too. Wanna see what they got in store first. Not interested in cheap rubbish.” The mentioned weak underlings lying in wait at the entrance don’t have him concerned, he’s going to make short work out of them. But there is still something that has him slightly confused about this all.

“Why do you want to help, anyway? You want something in return?”

It was a good thing this fellow stopped leaning against the stall, because Blood could feel on his shoulder that the wood was about to give the way it was leaning back. He even had to right himself. Disregarding that, Blood checks out the weapons the Rhino was carrying. These were no beginner weapons that someone chose for self defense. Lacking any real energy, Blood gave him a slight impressed nod.

“Of course. Doesn’t everybody?” Blood smirked, momentarily bending down to crush the lit end of his cigar on a stone. “I also know that delayed satisfaction makes something taste all the more sweet. One day I might need a good shot or a loud distraction. Even more than that... I’m interested in however it is you’re going to make a mark here. Boredom truly is a plague of the mind.” 

🎵 Don’t let your guard down. “Got it, Boss.” That means more intense listening to any suspicious noises. Which is more exhausting than he anticipated. But of course he’s not going to complain about something like that. He instead checks on his fresh bandages around his hands, which aren’t so fresh anymore after all the climbing and stumbling around at the Derelicts. His guns are both still on him. “Nah. My former boss is all ‘bout discerstion. Discertion. Disce– you know, that shit where you don’t talk ‘bout a former boss.” He doesn’t really have a real reason to talk about Karai to anyone here. She might not be here for all he knows, but talking about a former boss still sucks. He’s not a sellout. And he still holds a special kind of respect towards her, despite all that went down.

“My job been stuff like escorting the boss around. Most pee their panties when they see me an’ my pal. We’re called when fights get too tough for normal humans to handle. Wrecking stuff is what we’re the bestest at.” He shrugs lightly. “Been at many weird places. But youse right, I just got lost here on the way back to the big city place.”

“I understand what you’re trying to say.” Blood confirmed. Bebop’s thoughts needed piecing together, but he made sense at least. That question should have been a test for his contracted underling. Blood actually respected his stance not to give away information about his employer. It showed great loyalty--that was valued above anything in his family. The fact that Bebop was even helping him now showed loyalty, or at least the honor to pay back debts. 

Blood winced at the sound of the warthog saying ‘panties’- unsure of whether to giggle like a child or deprecate him for how crude it sounded coming from Bebop. Ultimately he couldn’t choose, and his expression faltered between the two.

“Not too different than what I’ll be asking of you, then. That’s good to know. Your stature will be useful in intimidating any trigger-happy idiots. You certainly look like you’ve busted down a few walls in your day.” It was a compliment. “I respect your decision not to talk about your boss, as long as I don’t become their enemy if they were to ever wind up here. The Derelicts are an easy place to get lost among the wrong people...or the right ones, if you’re looking to strike a deal with the mafia. My family in Wonderland is quite the powerhouse. The previous Hatter didn’t know what he was doing, so I grew them to be one of the most feared factions around. I intend to accomplish the same thing here.”

He wasn’t trying to brag, rather to give him some credentials and ensure him that he chose the right person to follow. He was a seasoned veteran at this game. Blood and Bebop begin weaving through alleyways at Blood’s direction. It was definitely not the most straightforward route, but it ensured that they didn’t run into the wrong turf.

“Former—” No need to even attempt finishing that sentence. Even after joining Rhodes Island, she’d remained Platinum. So did she ever stop being an assassin? And just as Senomy had said, her bloodstained hands would never know trust, anyway. She sighed and followed Blood outside, sulking to herself unless their little act required otherwise.

Fortunately, Platinum didn’t have to play that part for too long. And whatever that bartender was up to, it could only be a nice distraction from gloomy thoughts. Her ears shot up straight and turned towards the man, drowning out noises from other directions. Still, it was impossible to hear what the person on the other end of that call was saying.

“He took the bait,” Platinum quoted in a whisper. “But — he’s not alone. He’s got a friend tagging along. — It doesn’t matter. The barkeeper will take care of both of them.” The man in question nodded before ending the call. “No witnesses.”

“Well… That could mean something… or nothing. What do you think?”

Every little bit of information got them closer to a story. That was more than enough to keep him interested. So, only one of the patrons was actually the target. That still didn’t reveal what this fellow did to put a contract out on him.

“For one, we know that the bartender isn’t that perceptive if he thinks he doesn’t have witnesses.” Blood whispered back. “Whatever the target did, it would have had to cause a lot of trouble for them to risk claiming the life of a civilian too. Casualties cost extra in this line of work. Less-seasoned hitmen wouldn’t take a job like that--too many loose threads to clean up. This can’t just be a simple revenge story about adultery.” 

Unless the person on the other line had no reason to fear the authorities. He had a feeling if that was the case they wouldn’t have had to call for a stand-in. 

“Money and secrets...that’s what it always boils down to.” Blood frowned. It was tiring for people to be this predictable. But as she pointed out earlier, they didn’t have much money themselves. The target probably stole something or found out something he shouldn’t have.

He spent the entirety of the morning and afternoon inside of the lodge, and now he finally felt he was able to take a stroll outside without being burned to a crisp. ...Except in his haste for fresh air he forgot that the desert was actually freezing at night. He quickly decided was getting on the first coach back to that coffin of an elevator in the morning. The wind howled through the Stepping Stone Resort, and Blood stared suspiciously at the empty bazaar at the heart of the grounds.

He didn’t have much of a goal in mind while wandering, but he eventually found himself at the entrance of the Resort. The closer he got to the dunes outside, the more frequently he could swear that the wind sounded like a person whispering into his ear. He hit his palm against his ear and shook his head, turning around to find no one there. Multicolored strings of lights flickered under abandoned tents. A strong wind blew sand towards his face and he turned to the side to keep it out of his eyes. That’s when he saw that someone else seemed to be a restless sleeper that night.

A familiar blonde stood looking dazed, one hand clutched to her heart as she wordlessly stared into the dunes. With hesitation, her feet began inching forward. As much as Blood wanted to head back into the lodge and say it wasn’t his responsibility...nobody else seemed to be looking after her. Without thinking, Blood picked up his pace and grabbed onto her wrist.

“Miss Colette, what are you doing venturing off on your own this late at night?”

Rocksteady musters the no-more stranger up and down with narrowed eyes. Other than that, his expression still remains hard to read at first. “I can appreciate someone with a liking on hats” Rather than questioning the lack of difference between Hatter and Top-hat. Or being actually called Blood. Which is somewhat cool. But Rocksteady makes a dismissive gesture, an unspoken ‘I don’t care about your name’. Neither does he intend to return that courtesy of giving his name. But that Blood-guy manages to get his full attention in the end, anyway. And at last the giant rhino shows visible hints of irritation now.

“Where is that Derelicts place? These fools be unfortunate meeting me more than the other way around if they refuse to hand out any ammo to me.”

It takes only a slight tilt of his head to reveal a bunch of small and still visible scars from the dozens of times he’s been shot at recently. They range from all over his neck down to his shoulders and arms. “I need to stock up on ammo. Gonna find my pal.”

Blood tipped his hat at the compliment--at least he’d take it as one. 

If this rhino was so hell-bent on running into trouble, he wasn’t about to stop him. Or maybe his skin was tough enough to actually be a match for a gang. Either way the image of him trying to negotiate was entertaining. Blood took another puff of his cigar and let out a sigh of resignation.

“I was asking you what kind of weapon you were looking for.” But that hadn’t been abundantly clear when he asked the question. His own fault. “They don’t all smuggle the same ammunition. If you were more specific I could better help.”

Zora pauses midway through a sip, eyeing the man that had slid into the seat beside her with a confidence that betrayed…arrogance, maybe. She’s lived long enough to tell who’s got the bite to back up bark. The fancy prissy types were usually the deceitful ones–hell, she WORKED for someone that could fit that category not too long before she was plopped down in Whisperwood.

One part of her wants to tell the guy to piss off and leave her to her drink, but…well, that wouldn’t be fun, would it?

“Y’know what, Roses? Sure, knock yerself out. Ah’ got all th’ tahm in the world nao.” Zora replied, at last taking a sip from her glass. “Yeah, guess yew could say Ah’m new in town. Ain’t no better place t’ hunt than where people tend t’ gather. Loose lips and all. An’ if Ah’m gonna be stuck here, least Ah’ could do is find out where the drink’s good.”

“An’ yew? Yew off t’ some kinda ball or yew just like bein’ fancy?” Now that she got a closer look at this fella, he definitely looks like he’s off to have high tea with some important royal or something like that. Not that she had any place to speak considering her own attire, but at least she HAD a good reason. “Cuz if it’s th’ outfit that caught yer eye, yeah, it’s real. Ain’t no costume or pretend.”

Folks like her were a dying breed, she can’t even start to count the number of times people got the wrong idea about her. Usually she brushes it off, but today she wasn’t in the mood.

Her nickname for him already delighted him. She had a good sense of humor about her, and he had no issue with sarcasm. To be sarcastic you had to be witty. What he didn’t know was that she was also a good judge of character--deceit and arrogance were how one got ahead as a mobster. 

 “I don’t mind pet names, but if you tire of them you can call me Blood.” He grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “What luck that I find myself among so many huntresses. I suppose you could say we’re in a similar position. If you’re looking for rumors and information then I may be of some use to you... for a price of course. All depending on what you want to know.” 

“I’m feeling generous tonight, so my first bit of advice is that if you’re looking for a good drink, no bar this busy is going to have the best stock. I have a few haunts in quieter parts of town that I can recommend. What this place lacks in quality it makes up for in company and intrigue.” Blood smirked, looking around the room. There were a few he could pick out of the crowd having connections to the shadier parts of town. Each gang had their own style, and once you’d start noticing the emblems on their cuff links or tattoos on their wrists you were already a target.

🎵 Python. Piton. Bebop is missing the backup that would laugh with him about this now. But on the plus side for Blood, the mutant actually tries to focus on the given tasks now instead of constantly messing around with his pal. Serving some mobster boss fills this gaping hole a little, and that makes him desperately cling onto this new position now.

“Yeah that pretty lame from these Council chumps.”  Because the boss is always right about… stuff. 

Either way, Bebop grabs the rope, but not without sniffing the air first with a grunting sound accompanied to it. He can’t really smell anything suspicious though. Not from up here, and not while his smell is being a little afflicted by the blooming flowers of small trees and the patches of green all over the place, anyway. “Stupid nature” he mutters disgruntled. But, it seems save enough that there’s no ambush awaiting them in proximity. And for the worst case, his own gun is resting inside his back pocket and is fully loaded. He starts climbing down ahead now, his ears don’t stop moving all the way down. He’s holding out for suspicious noises. Anything that would suggest someone awaiting them already. It is almost a little weird to make use of his heightened mutant senses like this. Focused and all.

“Alrighty Blood Boss, it save down here!” He finally calls from below after reaching the ground.

Blood actually rather enjoyed the smell of the flowers in the trees. He always felt like it was a apt juxtaposition to decorate a supposed den of sin with something beautiful, pleasant-smelling, and fragile. Life prevailing amongst widespread death--it was picturesque. While his thoughts were waxing poetic, he reasoned that of course Bebop wouldn’t have the brains to appreciate it. He was just a simple fool.

...At least he was a useful one.

When Bebop calls up to him, Blood nods and begins descending the ladder to meet the henchman below. He smooths a wrinkle on his clothes and takes a better look at the buildings down here. The buildings had mostly fallen to ruin, but he had noticed that some of the overgrowth had been manually removed from a few buildings. New planks of wood covered rotten holes in these places. That meant it wasn’t completely abandoned, but one had to know what to look for to figure that out.

It’s an eyesore is what it all is….but if Blood will voluntarily switch it up, Deunan won’t complain.

She smiles encouragingly and nods.

“Doesn’t look too bad. Plenty of people use canes to walk around, so this is okay. How does it feel?”

Blood raises the cane in his hand and looks between the tip of it and Deunan with bewilderment. Sure, plenty of people use canes, but not all of them have a huge diamond on the tip and a top hat. He knew it was gaudy and attention-grabbing.

“A little more casual than I’m used to. Normally the only time I’m seen without the embellishments is when my bedroom has a visitor.” It could have been interpreted as suggestive, which was entirely on purpose, but he didn’t necessarily mean it that way. “Well, in your opinion do I look like a whole new man, miss?”