Chapter Text
Gepard has come at an impasse as of late, and to put it into a more broad perspective, he wasn’t the only one.
Weeks prior to this growing incident, perhaps even months now, the Silvermane Guards have been made aware of Sampo’s escapades to the surface ever since the divide of the two words of Belobog had been opened. He wasn’t the only criminal taking advantage of this expansion of territory of course, but Sampo was particular with his escapes, leaving trails of evidence behind as a means to sign the crime scene with his name in bright, bold letters. The incriminating evidence that spelled it all out for the Guards mostly consisted of bomb shells, and a green, wet, substance that Gepard has learned comes from Sampos bombs in the form of mist that when dissipating, coats the affected area in green speckles.
Labs say the material itself is harmless, said to only be there for flare, but the detected footprints of anesthetic was another story. The source; untraceable.
And then, there was nothing.
No reported sneak-ins to restricted areas, no reported scams of a heavily dressed self proclaimed journalist that asked too many of the wrong questions, no stolen merchandise from said scam, and no angry men and women coming at Gepard after his name was thrown around like rice at a wedding. Not to mention the countless times the Silvermane Guardes have been targeted for operations they weren’t cleared of executing…
It was as if Sampo disappeared, like the footprints he never leaves behind, and criminal activity that revolved around the blue haired snake, went down. Not by a significant amount but the silvermane Guards posts were no longer being sabotaged and that was a positive outcome. It meant that the Captains no longer needed to worry about who was replaced among their ranks without notice.
But this stand still of the missing miscreant was not what put Gepard and the other personnel off, and surprisingly, it wasn’t even when Sampo made his reappearance when chaos started ensued.
It was the eerie feeling his guards described, of chasing Sampo down to the slums, following the echoing laughter that bounced through invisible walls before catching sight of a coat tail to the right, a boot over to the left moment after, before turning the same corner to find no one there. A dead end that was otherwise unescapable. The silence that would follow after making it seem as if the chase hadn’t happened at all, that what they saw was out of their shared imagination.
It was a blow to many mens morale, seeing images created by the mind, and Gepard, despite his best efforts, told them to take the next available week off. Even if the fragmentum were sparse in sightings, losing personnel wasn’t something the Captain was fond of.
So, he took the fall in tracking Sampo down himself.
“Captain!” Guards jog up to him before getting into reporting position. “An explosion off the east. Two men found unconscious, another under arrest, and-” they shared a glance, barely there to be considered as catching their breath before they continued. “-sightings of who we believe is Sampo Koski from the leftover bomb shells found near the two unconscious men.”
Gepard leaves shortly after getting further details and giving the second in command instructions in the meantime.
First and foremost, Gepard goes to the scene, which becomes swamped by the guards he had taken with him to issue the arrest and conduct the necessary investigation for the when, why, what and where to come to a conclusion of what had happened. He leaves shortly after exchanging a few words with the one leading the investigation, and the one who fell witness to the whole incident to give chase.
Following the clues given to him, Gepard follows the faint green steps to the more secluded areas of Belobogs surface before they fade to nothing but stone ground. He continues with slow, quiet steps of his own, checking every corner, every alley, and every abandoned home for signs of the criminal. It felt more of a patrol than a hunt without the inevitable chase that came when attempting to arrest Sampo, but he supposes that some time for himself was warranted.
His leisurely patrol walk came to a pause and the sound of a loud scuffle, like a hard landing of shoes scraping shortly against the ground. Short heels, metal lined rubber soles. Gepards ears strain to hear more, seizing his movement to pick up on an unmistakable voice in the shape of a pleased mutter.
I’ll go on a whim here and guess patent leather. Tricolored.
Gepard doesn't bother to overly hide his footsteps as he nears the corner, but he does pick up the pace when there's a sudden silence enveloping the suspected area where Sampo surely stands, and prepares his gauntlet for a surprise attack.
“Don’t be rash.” Are his chosen words, but instead of the rush of footfall indicating Sampos escape, there’s a windblow and the sound of something bouncing off the floor with a clink. Gepard frowns as his advance pauses, but quickly recuperates in turn to round the corner street. What he finds is nothing but abandoned sidewalks lined with frost-dusted benches, and a trashcan not too far away.
There’s no sign of Sampo and Gepard has half a mind to take a trip back to base and make a psych evaluation on the way back before he hears a skitter below him. Eyes going downcast, Gepard spots a-…
Well, he can’t really pinpoint on what it was, as animals are hard to come by, but it didn’t resemble the typical stray.
It was smaller than a cat, longer than a rat, and paired with a set of small round ears and a furred, but very slim tail. He supposes it was some kind of critter, and it was in a hurry to roll away with a piece of metal in the presence of a human being. Gepard gives one look around to ensure his seclusion before he decides to bend at the knee to a crouching level.
He doesn’t touch quite yet, watching with a sense of intrigue when the animal actually turns around to give him a once over, even going as far as giving him a side eye when it slowly turned back around at the lack of the previously perceived threat. Gepard smiles lightly at this.
“Don’t worry. You’re not the one I'm looking to arrest.” He goes before his eyes flicker to the piece of metal, reaching a hand over to grab it from its pristine look. The creature gives a squeal at his gauntlet- a precaution on his side to avoid a bite- before it teeters off to something more nervous when Gepard takes a hold of it, following the hand as it takes its treasure away.
The blond brings it up for inspection, and takes note of the expensive decor.
The shape itself was indescribable, consisting of twists and turns of engraved metal full of miniscule clippings, but the surrounding cylindrical centerpiece was full of rare stones. It looked like a part of a necklace, but the chain was nowhere in sight.
After a few more moments, Gepard looks back down at the critter, who now stands on his two hind legs waiting for his find to be given back.
“Or maybe I am. This doesn’t look like something that belongs to you.” Gepard chuckles lightly at the continued stare. “You’re lucky you're cute.” He has the urge to reach over and pet the invitingly soft fur, dark with streaks of white, but he takes to tossing the item in his other hand and poketing it as he stands with a light groan. The armory can get pretty heavy after standing idle, even for a short while.
“Now, go find some real food that won’t kill you or make you chip a tooth.” He goes. He knows he’s speaking to something that doesn't understand human speech or the dismissing gesture he’s giving it, but it’s still a living being and Gepard would feel out of place if he didn’t give it some kind of… advice, he supposes. Usually, ‘encouragement’ is the term he would use when tending to his plants, but these are different circumstances.
When it doesn't leave immediately after Gepards rise in posture- and the threat it might pose to something as small as the rat-cat - the blond looks down at the creature for a few moments before taking out his phone to snap a quick picture.
---
Gepard is only reminded of the critter again when Lynx begins speaking about her travels out in the Plains. There is talk about the BigFoot back at it again with its poaching when she rants about her missing supplies and supposed ‘hidden’ stashes, but the topic deviates from whimsical unseen creatures, to a little white cub she helped in finding its lost momma.
“I even have a picture of them all together!” she squeaks excitedly, pulling out her phone and waving it to Serval. Gepard has to lean over a little to get a proper look at it, taking another bite of the snacks offered to him earlier.
“Oh how cute,” Serval goes, voice dipping in pitch as she takes hold of the device. There's a little more observing before she continues. “You weren’t in any danger were you? A cubs mom can be overprotective of her babies, you know.”
“Yes, I know, but this one was super sweet! I even followed her to a fishing hole and got some food to eat. It’s mostly stored out in the boxes for later.” Lynx says, waving her off just as Serval passes the phone to Gepard to get a look. He wipes his hand quickly over his pant leg before taking hold of it, looking down to see a clearer picture of the mother bear, an off white in comparison of the snow, sniffing at one of the cubs.
“I just hope those won’t get stolen.”
“The bears might get to it from the smell.” Serval reminds and Lynx makes a noise of non-commital agreement. It’s then that Gepard perks up.
“That reminds me,” He swallows his mouthful of food as he puts the phone down to retrieve his. “I found this little guy out on my patrol- give me a second.” he flips through the open applications to go into Photos and clicking the last one saved on his camera roll and putting the device down onto the counter for both his sisters to look at.
“I didn’t know what it was, but you know more about this stuff than I do.”
Lynks is on the tips of her toes to bend over the counter of the workshop to get a closer look, and she perks up as Serval pinches the screen to enlarge the image. “Oh! It’s a weasel!” She goes, taking charge of Gepards phone to flit her eyes over the critters' features.
“I would say ferret because of the dark furr, but the long tail he has says otherwise.” She hands him back the phone, to which he looks down at before pocketing it again. “Where did you find it?”
“On patrol,” he repeats. “I was tracking someone down and found this little guy instead. Wasn’t scared of me and it didn’t run, but I don’t think it was too happy when I took it’s things.”
Serval frowns minutely. “What was it?”
“Just some piece of jewelry. I didn’t want it to choke on it after mistaking it for some food.”
Serval seemed pleased with his answer, and he found it cute how she must have thought he deliberately stole an innocent creature's property that could have been essential for its survival. But for now, he immerses himself into familial banter as time stretched until it was time for him to leave for work again.
The day passed rather slowly, so when the hour for finally being able to return home struck, he made his statements before making his way back to the central city. Reaching headquarters, Gepard wasn’t stopped by anyone aside from the administrator that released him from duty for the next few days before he went straight for the lockers.
Stripping himself of the heavy duty armor, Gepard heaved a sigh of relief with a roll of his shoulder and tried not to be bothered how the black undershirt stuck to him, drenched in sweat and cooling rapidly. But, he didn’t have a change of clothes, so he left his work pants on and put a simple overcoat on top and exited the lockers.
The walk back to his house was cold and uncomfortable, feeling as if he’d just come out of a clown house from the stench he carried with his unmatching outfit and unruly hair. But the promise of a hot, steaming shower didn’t let the embarrassment live for long.
He did throw a few glances behind him when he felt eyes on him, judging him on his choice of attire, but only caught the flicker of strangers making eye contact at his movement before they continued on with their own business.
The feeling continues, however, and it follows him all the way home, coming back only until after the lights of the house were turned off. Gepard looks out the dark window of his bedroom, suddenly idle as he stood at the foot of his bed and his chest squeezes strangely at the coming silence.
This must be the feeling of solitude.
He’s grown so used to being surrounded by people, his subordinates and friends all the same, that he hadn’t put into perspective what it meant to come home. He was away from work, yes, and he could relax and let himself step away from the perils of duty, but home had always been a place where his family was. But with Lynx gone, and Serval spending increasing nights elsewhere, tonight, Gepard had the house to himself for the first time in a long time.
How quiet.
There wasn’t even a cricket among the greenery of his growing plants.
---
Being a Masked Fool came with its commodities, but shapeshifting was not one of them. That was an attribute few had and even fewer exploited, it didn’t come with the job. The Elation was simply a ‘place’ that welcomed such a skill - born, earned, stolen, or cursed- with open arms and doors of parading confetti. Where or how it was procured didn’t matter, or the line was too blurred as the Aeon they followed cared nothing more than the disruption of places and people that were afflicted with monotony and uniformity.
Sampo became the cure for such illness infecting the frozen, yet miraculously inhabited planet Jarilo-VI and he thinks he’s been doing a miraculous job at absolving it even if he was following the path of destruction in doing so.
His vacation was short, and the encounter of his fellow Aha enjoyers even more so before his inevitable return to the planet. He felt the job was not yet done at the reminder of a certain strict blond captain. Belobog was cured, but the same could not be said for some of its people.
Alas, his next planned encounter with his most esteemed law-abiding Gepard was supposed to have a little more… fan fare.
A betrayal here, an explosion there, some stealing and back turning that would hurt only those with deep pockets before it would all lead to a grand reveal of an operation of illegal, unethical, and inhumane merchandise being sold right under the little Silvermane Guards blind noses. A perfect plan that would make Gepard bubble with whatever it is that kept him so boringly interesting and begin looking for the number one perpetrator that purposefully left too many clues that revealed his identity.
Whether Sampo had always and/or never been a part of this ‘secret’ organization the rich are profiting off of didn’t matter. As long as he had Gepard back in the palm of his hand, the crimes he did or did not commit didn’t matter.
It wasn’t as if the Captain was actually going to be able to catch him.
That aside, his plans were foiled when he heard his voice from not five meters around the corner after step two of his grandiose plan.
“Don’t be rash.” His voice was just as hard as he’d remembered, but the tone entailed he knew exactly whom he was talking to. But it was also annoying how perceptive he was, something Sampo was not looking forward to.
Especially when he turned into his more- passive form, taking the shape of an unassuming weasel. A comedic choice for a thief such as himself, but also not too fitting when it came to the act of stealing when an important piece of his ‘welcome back’ scheme slipped right through small and clawed fingers. It wasn’t an embedded part of his outfit, so the jewelry piece rolled away right between two giant armored feet.
He was just about to make his escape when he heard the stretch of leather and clinking metal, and turned around to watch as Gepard crouched to his level, but for a small form such as this one, Gepard was still a giant in comparison. When he made no move and gave no sign of recognition, however, Sampo gave him one last look before limping away with one paw on the jewelry to have it roll with him.
Gepard said something before Sampos' very important tool was taken right out of his hold, and the ease of that feat frustrated him more than the burn his plans will be suffering. Then it turned to uncertainty once he registered to whom it was going to.
‘Hey w-wait a sec… you’ll give that back to me, right?’ He is just an unassuming critter, after all. Why steal something from a defenseless creature like him?
So, he stands as a way to translate ‘that is mine and I expect it to be returned’ in animal-to-human terms.
It does not work, and Gepard laughed before calling him a most despicable name, one he hadn’t dared utter in previous encounters until today as it made Sampos' heart race faster than when he’s called an impervious scum.
Gepard left not too shortly after, taking more than just Sampos' tools along with him.