Chapter Text
❝ Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness a tale of treachery, corruption, murder, greed, and envy— all of the things man holds near and dear to his heart.
Enjoy the show. ❞
Two years ago…
The avenue just south of Metropolis’ downtown area boasted bright, spiraled, and intricately-made buildings that loud, rowdy music seeped out from any hour of the day, accompanied by members of the upper class bustling to and fro on the sidewalks in their suits and dresses or in their fancy new cars; those who could afford to live there spent their time drowning in the worldly pleasures of wine, gambling, and whatever they saw fit after a day’s full of hard work.
Among them was a man named “Orpheus”, his true name hidden from the public eye. As the owner of a massive publishing company, he made a living by roaming the poorer areas of the city and taking whatever talent he could, gaining inspiration from their stories for his fictional works while a vast of majority of his employees worked to publicize the name of the street urchin Orpheus found favor with.
It had happened several times since Orpheus first founded his publishing company— the names that reached even the Eternal Aurora’s ears were all those who used to never smile or dance or sing, burdened by the stresses of life until Orpheus had stepped in.
Among the poorer groups, there was gossip. Perhaps the publisher had toyed with them, stolen their soul, sold them to the devil! But such rumors stayed in those parts of the city, for mostly no one else spoke against him.
Anyone who wanted a chance at a stable writing career appealed to the Nightingale Publishing Company. There, it was said, you could write about anything. You could be a journalist, a newsboy, or maybe even an author just like Mr. Orpheus himself. Many were inspired by this and were enthralled with the prospect of getting famous or meeting one Orpheus’ stars or simply being rich.
The motivations for Ms. Alice DeRoss, however, was simple. She enjoyed writing— she found solace in using words— and enjoyed sharing the truth with others. She excelled in analyzing situations involving crime without allowing any bias to slip through, and because of that, many encouraged her to try and get a job with the Nightingales.
And so, she did. She figured a bigger platform would allow her words to spread to many others, and the thought of many others being able to have a reliable source to depend on pleased her.
Prior to her interview, her works were already quite popular and this said popularity seemed to only increase day by day. Those working with the Nightingales took notice, and eventually her name was uttered by the newsboys, then the other reporters, and then the stars, until Orpheus himself caught wind of it.
One day, on a trip to the middle class area of Metropolis, he took a few newspapers for himself to see if all of this commotion was necessary. He had often been disappointed by a Call of Abyss copycat here or a tabloid spreading rumors about his stars there, but as he lay back at home, reading Alice’s work, he recognized her talent.
Her writing was simple, concise. It was so unlike his own, fastened together by evocative and long-winded imagery depicting dramatized tragedy, that it played to his fancy.
And when he saw that she was seeking an interview with his company, he couldn’t help but intervene.