deathisacard | and Death came to town

and Death came to town

If you were a person looking for a safe place to live this city was not it. Four crime families called it home and these families carried the weight of magic. Things always went their way, unless they were facing off with each other. It was known if you operated in the underworld at all you were in some way working for one of them. They had cut out their own territories of the city and guarded their borders ferociously.

This city was also the current home of one of the Arcana. A being of fathomless power that when he decided to settle in the only thing that would have stopped him was another Arcana and they had not been seen around the city for an age. The Hierophant sat upon his throne of ivory and bone and the world warped around him. Those that could hear his call turned to him with worshipful hearts and they fell at his feet in supplication.

Somewhere between the royal families and the Arcana were the Icons. Unlike the royals who were mostly human, the Icons that wrapped themselves in flesh found the pull of the Arcana difficult to resist. So it was that Death was drawn to the city. He did not bend a knee to The Hierophant but agreed to be his unkind retribution.

So it was again how Death found himself entering The 4 Batons. Cigarette smoke made the air hazy and saved any patron who still had a sense of smell from actually having to smell the place. It was kept from being dilapidated but resisted all attempts to not look worn and haggard. One of the family of Wands had been making trouble, bringing Todd through the door. He cut an imposing, slender figure and was completely at odds with the establishment in anything but barely contained menace.

He strode to the bar as if he had always come here, which he had never, and exchanged a silent stare with the barkeeper. "Whiskey. Neat," he said with clipped enunciation. Todd was impressed that the woman only raised an eyebrow at him before going to bring him what was perhaps one of the worst whiskies that could be found in the city.

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The one place in Wand territory Felix could be reasonably found at was The 4 Batons. He drank on the cheap there, and even then the demands for payment were more so the family could make sure he had money to spend rather than to take it. All of it filtered back into his bank account sooner or later. Their personal suitcase nuke.

The Knight's personal suitcase nuke anyway.

The point was he also knew enough to know that nobody who ordered their whiskey neat was the type to come into the Batons, where you went to find a particularly dirty vice caring more for low cost and high strength than anything else. The choking cigarette smoke was by far the least offensive of the scents to be found there.

There were better bars in Wands territory, but this had always been a favorite of the Princess and the Knight until recently, when the Knight seemed to care about upward mobility. So Felix was alone and several awful shots in when he made his way up to the bar itself (faintly sticky, questionable stains, as always) smelling of gunpowder and napalm as he leaned against it and signaled for another shot of whatever was on hand.

"You aren't from around here," he said to Todd. As if it needed saying.

Todd took a sip of his whiskey. It was perfectly terrible. Outwardly he did not betray anything than mild interest. Turning his solid black eyes on the bright young man who had addressed him. Normal people did not shine slightly at their edges and cut their way into more realness. A royal, but not the one Todd was looking for.

"How astute," he replied.

Felix's accent was the meandering one of the poorer parts of the city - even if he was a Royal now, his voice never forgot where he came from, especially as it got even more slippery with liquor. Keeping in mind that one did not go to The 4 Batons, one ended up there, he didn't bother to hide the critical and suspicious look up and down as he looked over the Icon. The frown said he did not like what he saw.

They mostly stayed clear of the Hirophant - at least, last Felix knew - and unless there was personal favors involved he didn't think anyone from another house could afford the help of this one.

"So why the hell did you come here?"

He could clearly afford better, he didn't seem terribly interested in what the bar did have to offer.

Todd did not shy away from Felix's attention or frown, only showing Felix the same mild interest that he had shown his truly awful drink--which he threw back before setting the glass down politely. He turned to fully face the other man and leaned, casually against the bar, indifferent to just how sticky it was. He carried the same elegance that a well-made blade had--sharp, cold, and beautiful.

Todd's accent was something clear, high-brow, and assuredly not even from the nice part of the city.

"I had been looking for someone, but he is clearly missing from this establishment."

He saw no reason to lie at this juncture, and it had been what felt like an age since he had actually spoken with another soul.

There was only one other person of note who ever came to this particular awful bar - even the Queen never set foot there once even though she technically owned it. She had People for that. So if it wasn't Felix, well.

"What do you want with him?" Felix asked, and he wasn't crass enough to put his hand on his gun when he asked it, he always kept it in full view anyway. Silver of the revolver tarnished full black, the handle gold, holsters at his hip.

Todd took a moment to answer, giving the weapon at Felix's hip--curious and appreciative. The fact that Felix had not put his hand on the gun raised the Royal in Todd's book. Not that it was a book that any sane and rational person should want to use.

"I was asked to have a conversation with him. Convince him the trouble he is stirring is not worth it. Want," he paused, dark gaze steady on Felix, "has nothing to do with that matter."

Behind the bar DJ, the bartender, had positioned herself away from the stranger and Felix. Her posture clearly said to Felix that she would only step in to prevent too much of his blood from getting on her bar.

Conversation meant certain things in their circles that rarely had anything to do with talking. He could have clarified that the Knight rarely came around here anymore, but that would involve giving any information to this interloper, which was not how Felix did business.

"If not you, then who wants the 'conversation'?" He asked, barely giving DJ any acknowledgement. If he spilled too much blood, he'd deal with that after the fact. Felix was usually better about not starting a fight in the bar itself, but Icons didn't come around looking for those he was loyal to on the regular.

He was also aware there was unlikely to be anyone but the obvious behind this message, but he wanted to know for sure before he tracked down the Knight himself.

Todd turned his open hand to produce a gold coin. The motion evocative of mundane illusionists, but he had kept the coin in the thin, cold, between space he had access to. He had not wanted it taken from him until the right time. This time being right enough he placed it on the bar with the same politeness he had his glass and slid it with a single fingertip to the space between him and Felix. Removing his finger revealed the triple bar of the Papal Cross and the Latin words around the edge. The other side was the same with slightly different wording. Something about dominion on earth, Todd had not paid it much attention.

"As is always the case. A man of wealth and power."

It did not need to be said it was the Hierophant, but the calling card coin should be enough confirmation. The easing of the Arcane's influence told Todd that particular agreement had been satisfied. He settled back into his casual lean with a pleased sigh.

Felix eyed the coin, not stupid enough to touch it. Hiding it in a space between space had been smart, though. If there was ever a pickpocket desperate or stupid enough, it would be around here.

He signaled DJ for another shot of whatever and knocked the liquor back without even looking at the glass or it's contents.

'Brutus, what have you gotten yourself into?' he wondered, even knowing the answer was 'exactly what he was trying to get himself into'.

"That sounds like their problem. I suggest you fuck off and don't come back around here," Felix said, the emphasis on the word suggest the same as the one on conversation had been.

"I will take your suggestion under advisement," Todd said, using the same emphasis on suggestion that Felix had.

He envied the freedom royals had. The Arcana could push them around the same as the mundanes and did sometimes kill them off for their safety--never forgetting that they had once been of royal blood. Yet royals could resist better than any Icon could. The Arcana lacked freedom outside of the role they had built for themselves, but they had chosen it. Many of the Icons had not. Todd had not. Any choices he could have made had been taken from him. He could never be sure if his comfort with that was a product of what he was or that what he was did offer him more freedom than most. However, if the Heirophant demanded he return, he would return. It was also an interesting place, haunted by an interesting man. The demands of an Arcana would not be the only thing to make him return to find what sweet retribution for his transgression would yield.

In the most unhurried motions he could muster, Todd stood from his lean and ran his hands down the front of his jacket. It did not need straightening, but that was not the point. "I will see you again," he promised the bright-eyed man before strolling back out into the night.

He left unhurriedly, waiting to see if he was followed and, if not followed, to slip into the shadows and watch. Driven by no other desires than his own.

Felix didn't follow. He was too busy going to the shitty payphones at the back of the bar and calling up Brutus' number, one of a dozen memorized so he didn't even have to think as he punched it in. One ring, two, three...

Brutus picked up, a careful, "Felix?" as a greeting. He had call ID, and Felix was the only one who ever called from the bar's payphones. DJ, or JD would sometimes call him from the landline for it, always about Felix, frequently with the 'please come get him' request. So, Felix was at least still upright and capable of making a phone call when the number came through the payphones.

"What the fuck have you done that's got the goddamn Pope's attention?" Felix hissed into the receiver.

Any smart person would have been worried, but Brutus just sighed on the other end like this was an inevitability he was hoping was going to give him another five minutes but apparently not.

"Come over, we'll talk at my place."

"I'm not done drinking."

"I have alcohol here, asshole."

"Fine. Line some up for me, I'll need it to handle whatever bullshit you're about to ask me to swallow too."

With that parting shot Felix hung up the phone, hard, as if that made a difference on Brutus' end. He didn't go directly to the Knight's apartment, instead taking a circuitous route in case he was followed. As if Brutus couldn't be found by other means. Felix just didn't want to be responsible himself. He still went in like a thief, mind, climbing up the fire escape next to the building to the balcony that was the Knight's, vaulting over it to the space that wasn't really meant to be wide enough to hold a person and cracking a window to shimmy inside.

"I distinctly remember giving you a key," Brutus said, not bothering to look up from where he was pouring the fourth shot of vodka in a line of them on his kitchen counter. It wasn't good vodka, but the good stuff was a waste on Felix anyway and they both knew that. Felix dug into his coat pocket to produce the key on a keyring and jingle it to show that yes, Brutus did, he had not lost it.

"Your neighbors are assholes and try to talk to me if they see me," he said by way of excuse.

"They aren't Royals but they have connections, you should try talking to them," Brutus pointed out, as if that wasn't just as lost on Felix as good liquor. As if them not being Royals was a thing Felix cared about. He didn't bother to even acknowledge the words, making a beeline over and downing two of the four shots in quick succession, taking up the third and pausing then to meet Brutus' eyes.

"What have you gotten yourself into?"

The shadows reached for Todd as if they had missed him. So obscured, he watched the Wands bar. The press of obligation lifted even further, and he knew his message was being taken. He watched the bright Royal exit. Watched how his agitated walk smoothed out into something careful. Todd wanted to follow and test his silence against this Wand. He had followed for nearly a block before he pulled himself up short. If he found where the royal the Arcana had an interest in was, then the truth would be pulled from him later. Todd was not loyal to the Hierophant and had no intention of becoming his creature.

So Todd turned away and stepped into the nighttime of the Wand's fraction of Empire. He stopped and let himself be seen. He was always interested to see how people reacted to his presence, especially those who noticed his eyes. Most, but not all, shied away. Like the man who took his money in exchange for a room for the night. He would not stay at this building for long--being memorable came with its own problems.

The room was acceptable and clean enough. He set out his scant belongings in the way that helped him feel more grounded and part of the world. He still had a flesh and blood body, and it had needs. Relying on magic for everything was a quick route to losing it, and he quite enjoyed all the things that it came with.

However, he could not find rest. The window to his room opened barely enough for him to squeeze through. There was barely a ledge to stand on, but he climbed out as if pulling himself up and strolled up the wall to the roof. Unobserved, the trick barely took any effort to reach the roof. From there, he climbed up onto a structure that served as access to the rooftop.

He sat bathed in moonlight and listened to the night.

The peace of the night was interrupted by the feeling of something pressing its way into being in front of him. A moment later, a spectral image of the Hierophant hovered in the night air. Todd neither got up nor knelt, he simply continued to lounge where he was. "Checking in on me?" he asked languidly.

The Arcana ignored him and asked, "You gave my message to the Wand known as Brutus?"

"The message will reach him," Todd said.

"That was not what we agreed to," the Hierophant said, and Todd felt fingers of power reach for him.

Todd rose to his feet and drew a wicked blade from his between space, the movement nearly too fast to follow. The spectral image shank from him ever so minutely. "What I have done has been settled. The magic can't lie."

Edited 2022-11-09 07:27 (UTC)

The message did indeed reach its intended target, though with a fair bit more cursing than initially crafted with. Brutus explained the broad strokes of his plan to Felix, and Felix countered with a mostly accurate play by play of what had occurred at the 4 Batons. Brutus had poured himself a glass of the good vodka to sip at, which meant he did almost choked on the startled and somewhat hysterical laugh that came up when Felix got to the end.

"You threatened Death?" He repeated, because there was no way that wasn't a Death. Not the full Arcana but an Icon, surely. Felix gave a one-armed shrug. He'd downed the remaining shots in the meantime and was now sitting on Brutus' kitchen floor, lazily smoking a cigarette.

"He was a dick. Besides, he didn't belong there," Felix reasoned, like that was all the reason one needed. For Felix, it was.

"Well… hopefully he was only a heavy handed messenger and we don't see him again. If he does become a problem, though…"

"I'll handle it," Felix volunteered, before Brutus could ask. Because if he didn't, Brutus would ask, and Felix would always say yes. This way he could tell himself their power dynamic was not so one-sided.

"Get some rest before you handle anything. When was the last time you slept? No, don't tell me. I'll grab some stuff for the couch. I don't like you walking around vulnerable in this much liquor and this little sleep," Brutus chided, stepping away from the counter to head to the bedroom. He had guest rooms, but Felix rarely took them. He had been sleeping off a hangover on Brutus' couch since the man had no other furniture than a milk crate table, and had no intent to stop now.

Hours later Felix awoke on Brutus' couch. It was dark out, and the Knight had gone to handle business elsewhere. He could stay, he knew he was welcome to, but after a shower he came to a conclusion- it was better to keep a problem from starting than wait for it to get the upper hand and make the first move. Redressing in yesterday's clothes and checking his weapons, he headed out into the night on the trail of Death. If he was still in the city, Felix would find him.

Not only was Death still in the city but he had spent the evening in Felix's territory. As much as all of the Wand's territory was his. The Icon had meandered the streets like a tourist might, but this one had left a trail of stressed out lookouts in his wake. When Felix found the hotel he did not have to ask anyone. The pressure of power there was abnormal and coming from high up.

Up on the roof the spectral projection of the Arcna said, "You must do as I will."

"I don't have to do shit," Todd shot back railing against the barely secure leash the Hierophant had on him. "I am not part of your muling herd. I will slit your throat if you continue to make that mistake."

"You dare-"

Before the Arcana could finish Todd lunged forward with his blade. Either the blade or the Hierophant ended the projection. Todd did not care which. "I do dare," he growled at the empty air.

Without the blinding pressure of the Arcana's will he became aware of someone else here on the roof. Not looking, not caring who it was, he launched himself at the interloper, blade brought to bear.

Even Felix wasn't foolish enough to interrupt a conversation between Icon and Arcana - at least, not while halfway back to sobriety. If he had not taken the time to rest and sober up somewhat, that might be a different story.

There was no time for a careless quip like 'Trouble in paradise?' that was on the tip of his tongue when Death abruptly ended the call, not with him becoming suddenly aware of Felix's presence, no longer blocked out by the strength of the Hierophant shouting over everything else. All he could do was dart back and out of the way, shirt getting caught by the blade and sliced open but narrowly avoiding his skin suffering the same fate as he pulled out his always present revolver to bring it up to fire at point blank range.

The calm and cool Icon Felix had met in the 4 Batons had been replaced with wrath and furry. Todd snarled and twisted with the same grace he had displayed earlier, now unsheathed and the malice no longer under the skin. The bullet tore through his jacket, just missing his skin--he could feel the heat of its passing.

He brought up his elbow as if to strike and slid his blade under it, using his arm to obscure vision. There was the risk of his arm and blade becoming unhappily entangled, but he was not fighting from a position of rationality.

Wrath and fury was far more Felix's style anyway. Fighting smart was for other people, Felix kicked down the door and thought best on his feet when in the thick of it. The blade of Death was sharp enough that it wasn't until the sudden warmth after the fact in his shoulder that Felix realized it had cut him, a long slice through shirt and jacket on his non-armored side that would need to be looked at to determine of it would require serious care. He ducked down, used the butt of the revolver to parry before shooting upwards at Death's face.

The muzzle flash made twin stars in the lightless night of Todd's eyes. He jerked his head to the side. Escaping the bullet completely would have meant giving more ground than he was willing. Blood welled dark against his pale skin, marking the path the projectile had taken. An ordinary person's bones would have shattered at such a touch, but thankfully Death was far from ordinary.

He brought a vicious knee up to catch the Royal before he could right himself.

So careful to avoid the worst from the sword, the knee connected solidly with Felix's gut without anything to stop it or slow it down and he stumbled back and onto a knee, winded, gasping. Being down was not a good place to be, not by yourself, so it was with a frantic desperation Felix grabbed at Death's clothing to pull him down and off balance too.

Feeling the solid connection Todd had been preparing a strike to follow, but had not anticipated the frantic hands latching onto his clothes. The hold Felix had managed was lopsided and pulled Todd off balance. The sword fell out his surprised fingers and winked out of this space before it landed. Some of the buttons on his jacket and shirt gave up under the strain and those did clatter across the rooftop.

If the blood dripping down his cheek did not tell Felix the Icon was a being of living flesh and bone, the brief touch of warm skin as Todd was pulled down would be a final confirmation.

Todd was breathing heavily through gritted teeth as he grabbed at the Royal before letting gravity pull him the rest of the way down. Most fights ended on the ground anyway.

They did, and Felix was used to it. He twisted when he pulled Todd down, using the momentum so that he ended up on top when they both hit the roof, bringing his gun up to press the barrel against the bottom of Todd's jaw and pull the trigger.

It clicked empty.

That was new.

Not it not having bullets - it was only ever half loaded. But it always landed on the right chamber when necessary.

Not one to let a little surprise outcome throw him though, Felix used the other weapon he had available - and smashed his Head against Todd's.

Todd had already hit the roof hard, pushed down by Felix's weight. When the cold metal pressed into the soft underside of his jaw, he wondered when and where he would crawl out of the Void. The empty click of a round not found brought him back in time to catch the look of surprise on the Royal's face in the half-light of the roof. Then that face rushed at him. Not everyone knew the right part of the head to strike with, but this man did. Pain blossomed somewhere around his nose and mouth. The momentum cracked his head back onto the roof.

Todd blinked, trying to assemble his fractured perceptions into something coherent. His heart was beating wildly, and he fought to catch his breath. Which was being hampered by the warm blood that was flowing from his nose. He licked at a split in his lip, which was gleefully contributing to the blood situation.

His limbic system was very confused about what was going on. He felt euphorically angry; then again, that might mean everything was working as usual. One of his hands was still caught up in the other man's clothes and he could feel warm blood against his fingers. He pulled at the body that sat astride him, driven by some kind of want that slipped through mental fingers made jittery by adrenaline and head trauma. He thought, 'Why are you here?' but all that came out of him was a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan.

Edited 2022-11-11 23:26 (UTC)

If his gun could not be relied upon, that changed things. At least in this moment. He could continue to go for it, and there was something appealing about the violence of pure flesh against flesh, brutal and slick with blood. He couldn't think, couldn't plan, and while he had rested some it wasn't enough to truly sober him up and using his own skull as a weapon wasn't without pain on his end too.

He shifted, twisted out of his shirt that Todd still held onto, leaving him grasping the torn and blood-stained fabric that only separated from him thanks to said tears. The blood had smeared half down his chest, but that could have been the struggle rather than how profuse it was.

Felix tried one more time, gun against Death's chest. Another empty click. Fuck.

This was his city, his part of the city, even, and he knew it well enough to rabbit and go to ground with the best of them. Pushing his free hand against Todd's chest for leverage he pushed himself up and scrambled out and away, back down through the hotel, leaving Death on the roof. He'd recover, but Felix bloodied him, knew All Was Not Well within that contract, and most important: he was pretty sure whatever had been in store for Brutus was now focused well onto him instead.

A success, all things considered.

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and Death came to town

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