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The soft glow of neon streetlight filtered in through the crack in the window, accompanied by the light pitter patter of raindrops that snuck their way in, slowly forming a puddle on the floor. The room had no lights and, with none offered from the darkness of night outside, was lit only by the dim lantern that flickered on the desk, casting shadows of the two men on either side of the light.
A slow inhale and the creak of a chair broke the careful silence,
“So... What's with the wing?”
The smaller of the two broke his carefully monitored expression to let a glimpse of offence shine through. “Well, now. That's not really relevant”
His golden metal wing seemed to almost creak uncomfortably as he crossed his arms and continued, “I'm here on business not pleasantries, Crimson”
The name tasted metallic on his tongue knowing the nickname came both for the deep red pupils the long-haired man possessed and the colour of the scene of his crimes when he leaves. Pushing through his anxieties he maintained his composure.
“Birth defect for me. The doctors said I'd be blind by twenty, but I see better than any biological eyes could even dream of. I know you were curious birdie” Crimson chuffed, as his piercing eyes looked the smaller man up and down.
“A truth for your truth?”
“The war, like half the people in this country” The words were not composed but almost spat out distaste clinging on as the blonde pulled his white cloak tighter around him tucking in his one regular wing the metal one replicating as if to hide them behind his frame. Crimson edged closer his sharp features and scarred skin illuminated by the light casting a shadow across his hair. A red shirt layered by a blue waistcoat hung off his well-built figure as he leaned close to the man before him blocking the light from reaching his soft features.
“Well do I get a name? Or are you going full secretive ‘I was never here’ act? I deal with all types, and you’ll find I never disappoint as long as the money ends up in my pocket”
“Grian”
“Well songbird” Crimson begins as he circles back around the table to sit in the large, cushioned armchair leaning both elbows on the table as an unreadable smirk crosses his face.
“What can I do for you?”
“What most people seek you for. Revenge.” Grian digs around in a large white satchel hanging from his shoulder and pulls out a bright red binder half slamming it down on the table as he quickly flips and points. Inside a blueprint sits, both carefully laminated and highlighted. he continues,
“The Watcher Foundation is hosting their annual gala in a few months. They plan to reveal some new innovative technology that will “change the world”. We all know how that went last time, thousands of pointless deaths.” he gestured towards his wing before continuing, carefully veiled anger shining through every word,
“I want the only memory of that gala to be one of failure, embarrassment. I can't do much to damage their company myself, I don't have that sort of power, but you know what they say. Reputation is everything, show them that they are not as untouchable as they think they are”
Crimson's eyes seemed to darken as he contemplated what Grian said, the foundation was often his target whether intentional or not, their factories' smog clouds the lower districts of the city and poisons the drinking water. Hundreds go jobless with every new shiny gadget they exhibit and release. That makes a lot of people angry, scrapping together credits to employ him. Take out a factory here or a scientist there. Vengeful soldiers and mourning parents alike. Yet this case intrigued him and not just because of the very beautiful man standing before him, soldiers were well paid and well looked after by the foundation after all with how deep in the government's pockets that company was the army might as well be their own. Even viewing Grians prosthetic it was high tech, expensive and seemingly well maintained. His trail of thoughts was interrupted,
“You see if we can destroy their new prototype and the lab itself it could be the start of it all coming down. They have a secret lab below the city central museum. I bet it's stored there.”
There was a frazzled sort of look in Grians eyes as if there were months of preparation behind this pitch. He stared at Crimson for a moment before pulling out a bag and pushing it towards him.
“Fifty thousand credits in there and double that on job completion” A smirk crossed Crimson's face as he opened the bag, his eyes looking up to match Grians.
“Well songbird, you’ve got yourself a deal”
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It had been a week since his visit with Crimson and almost radio silence had made Grian worry, but a letter slid under the door of the motel he was staying at had offered him comfort. His feet marched in rhythm as he made his way down the winding alleyways as directed in the letter, the quiet buzzing of distant nightlife soothing his mind that he wasn't alone as he pulled his coat tighter around him to avoid the cold bite in the air.
Standing in front of the marked location he found it to be a seemingly empty bar, neon lights flickered irregularly, and he could just barely make out the sign “Bamboozler Inn”. A choice was made naming it, not sure if it was one he approved of.
Carefully he pried open the door the light shone warm down unto him unlike the ever-changing lights he was used to from the bars in the city centre, the bar was littered with wooden chairs and tables as a fireplace crackled in the corner. Inside was empty apart from a lone pink haired bartender cleaning glasses and a blonde man playing a slow but lively violin tune. He quickly surveyed the surrounding area and found his eyes trailing to the lonely, cloaked figure in the corner. He almost rolled her eyes, what a cliche. Making his way over the tune carrying on through the air as he absentmindedly matched his steps to the rhythm, he seated himself across from the figure.
“Was starting to think you weren't coming”
“It just took me a little while to find the place, very hidden back here. I suppose that's why you chose it?”
“Weekends are our busy nights; Thursdays I book the place out for my meetings” Grian giggled lightly in a way that floated across the room. Crimson took down his cloak shaking out his half tied up hair to where it sat comfortably framing his face as his eyes locked on Grian.
“I looked over your plans. They're ambitious but possible, I didn't want to get back to you until I had acquired the goods, ideal small talk isn't really my thing”
“I see, I can't imagine explosives are easy to come by” A devious smirk crossed Crimson's face,
“Oh no, the problem wasn’t getting them. I wanted to make sure we had enough” he rose from his seat cape billowing around his legs eyeing Grian as he beckoned to follow making his way towards the small stage. Grian trailed wearily behind.
“Jimbo, you got everything?” The man stopped his music as silence fell. He carefully set down his instrument and began towards the stage door beckoning the two to follow him. Approaching as he opened the door with a creak, Grians's eyes widened. A pile of small cylinder bombs he recognized from his army days sat tucked away in the corner of the backstage room.
“Wow, I’ve never been around these many explosives. Is it safe?” The man let out a laugh,
“Of course it is. Re-engineered them myself, I'm not an idiot” Grian grabbed Crimson's cloak as he goes wide eyed from the contact, pulling them out of earshot of the man and in a hushed tone whispers,
“Not to say I'm not sure you haven't done this a million times but are you sure we trust this random guy with re-engineering explosives? He pulled the push door”
“He’s the best I got, the last guy got taken by the guards. Haven’t seen him since” A look of guilt crossed Grians face.
“Im sorry”
“Its okay, it’s a sacrifice we all make in this line of business” Grians eyes traced the floor tiles as an awkward silence settled in the room. ‘Jimbo’ looked between the both of them before interjecting.
“So anyway. They’re sound frequency activated, just blow this whistle and BOOM, off they go. Easy as pie, just have to be within range or blow really, really hard. Up to you” He tossed a shiny gold whistle in the air which landed in Grians hand. He palmed it over slowly before burying it in his pocket.
“One step closer” he muttered under his breath.
“One step closer indeed” Crimson echoed accompanied by his trademark grin.
“I need a place to crash for a while; the motel has started to grow suspicious”
“I think you’re paranoid songbird, but you can crash at one of my safe houses. We have a lot of planning to do anyway; I cleared my calendar. This plan of yours may just about work and if it does, I want equal credit”
“Your faith in this is inspiring” Grian rolled his eyes as the two meandered towards the table,
“Care for a drink blondie?”
“Sure”
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Crimson never considered himself a heavy sleeper, a skill attuned to spending a childhood hopping group homes and shop doorframes. So, there was no surprise when he awoke in the middle of the night; the only surprise was what woke him.
A scream echoed through the thick walls of his safehouse, an apartment above an old, abandoned supermarket in a quiet area of town; secure, just how he liked it. He rose with haste grabbing a gun from his bedside table and throwing on a t-shirt carefully creeping towards his companion's room, he kicked open the door and surveyed the room, gun raised.
However, all he found was Grian sat upright against the wall of his small bedframe, dishevelled and frazzled. He lowered the gun and slowly stepped towards the blonde treading lightly.
“You okay songbird?” There was a beat of silence that weighed heavily as it dragged out,
“Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you, just nightmares.”
“Hey, it's no problem we all get them; you want to talk about it?”
“No, I'm okay” Crimson turned to leave but just as he did Grian called out in a soft voice,
“Could you stay with me? Like last time?” Curse his cold heart for melting so easily. It had only been six months since he first encountered the blonde stranger, yet he had so easily fallen victim to his charms, counting the freckles across his face as they sat huddled over blueprints and cursing the light warmth that flooded his cheeks whenever their hands brushed together. How he could get lost in his unique coloured eyes, studying every fleck. All those walls built up to crumble as easily as sand.
Without a word Crimson set down his gun on the bedside table beside a small vase filled with blooming purple hyacinths and sat on the foot of the bed,
“Never in my life did I think this is where I would end up. Funny thing fate is, right Crimson?” Crimson hummed in agreement and took a deep breath.
“Scar”
“Scar?”
“Thats my real name, it's been a while since I've told anyone. You know after the heist next week they’ll know it was you and I that did it, I've been looking for a more permanent partner in crime, you don't have to answer now. Just think it over.” An unreadable expression crossed Grians's face before he gave a weak smile.
“I will, Goodnight Scar”
Scar curled up against the wall.
“Night songbird”
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The two men sat huddled in an alleyway, the dimmed city lights barely illuminating their features, matching padded black outfits adorned their bodies in an attempt to blend into the cover of night, light black guns holstered to their hips. A backpack full of explosives hung on Scars shoulders as the two locked eyes before carefully leaving their hiding space as the guards began their changeover shift. Just as expected.
Racing across the plaza they made their way up the steps of the city central museum. The grand wooden doors before them were detailed with care, but they had no time to admire the art as they slipped inside. Scar leaned towards Grian, voice hushed,
“I can't believe they don't lock this place up; there's a pretty penny to be made here”
“Only you would think something like that, plus its covered in motion sensors”
“Good thing I had a guy for that”
“Haha very funny come on quick” Grian marched forward with determination, they had both studied the blueprint religiously and a map was unnecessary. Through an exhibition of strange bone configurations that they both briskly walked past a sense of unease resonating from the “art”. Past walls of paintings and war artifacts before they came to a dome like room, the sky painted full of star constellations that rotated ever so slightly.
“I’ve never seen the stars before” Scar admitted,
“They’re not visible from the city, maybe when this is all over, we take a trip out to the countryside, let the heat die down. Purely strategic”
“Maybe” Grian hums in response the gold whistle glinting around his neck in the faux starlight, he felt around the wall before a click echoed around the room,
“Found it!”
The ground began to shake and rattle as it descended downwards at a rate so fast it caused both men to stumble and cling onto one another. Just barely catching a glimpse of a new floor slotting into place above them. Their hearts raced in sync as they came to a halt with a groan, a doorway sliding open in front of them to reveal a long dark tunnel.
“How welcoming” Grian remarked as Scar hummed in agreement. They nodded towards each other before continuing forward, the fluorescent lights above clicking on as they passed seemingly motion sensored, lighting the blindingly white tunnel.
The lack of sound but their own footsteps half eased their minds yet set them off, suddenly becoming aware of how exposed they were. Scar carefully unholstered his gun resting it in his hand.
Not a moment too soon as a figure dressed in imperial white jumped out from behind a pillar, shots fired on instinct as Scar raised his weapon, bright crimson red exploded from his chest splattering the floor and with a thunk his body soon followed. Chaos erupted as more white figures filtered out seemingly from a room implanted in the side of the tunnel and without a word Grian drew his weapon and joined in the cacophony of gunshots that echoed all around them.
The two were violently outnumbered yet neither faltered, fighting in sync almost as if dancing through the soldiers as they took down one after another with ease as if they had been fighting together for eons their very bodies attuned to one another.
Finally, the gunshots stopped and the only sound that filled the air was light laboured breaths as Grian wiped a splatter of blood from his cheek, the two standing atop a mangled collection of the dead. One last gunshot rang out as Grian spotted a crawling soldier amidst the crowd, blood pooling out from their now still corpse, hand still outstretched as if pleading for mercy that would never come.
Scar felt taken aback, he knew Grian had been a soldier who had seen war, but this was a new side to him he had not witnessed in person. The blank face in front of him was not one he recognized nor one he wanted to.
Yet in a moment he returned to give Scar a soft smile nodding to continue forward, just as they took a step the room around them was swallowed by blackness before being replaced by a flashing red light as a loud ear shattering alarm erupted all around them.
“RUN!” Grian yelled, voice filled with urgency as he grabbed Scars hand and the two barrelled down the tunnel, finally after what felt like a solid thirty minute but couldn't have been more than five the tunnel ended. The two raced into a large grey room filled with all sorts of scientific equipment and strange fleshy objects in test tubes neither wanted to look too closely at, metal viewing platforms surrounded them. Scar gripped Grians arm and let out an almost manic whoop of excitement as he passed a bundle of explosives into his hands,
“No time to find the prototype this whole place is going down, we can make it back to the emergency exit in the blueprints before they send more reinforcements” he raced around the room planting the explosives along the wall and tables up and around the metal balcony, a solid click rang out across the room as the alarm shut off the sudden silence causing loud ringing in Scars ears. At this he glanced back to Grian before stopping in his tracks. Grian had not moved an inch. He opened his mouth to yell towards him how they were losing their very short window of time before the lights snapped off.
“Grian? Songbird? You okay”
A slow drawn-out clap is all he got in response.
‘Oh fuck’ is the only thought that crosses Scars mind as his heart dropped and a sinking feeling reverberates throughout his entire body. A loud grinding and a thud from the door behind him didnt exactly ease his pounding heart.
The lights flashed back on, no longer red but a blinding white as a sharp click of heeled shoes draws his attention to the back of the room. An instantly recognizable tall blonde woman stands still, a deep purple dress hugs her frame and compliments her white pale skin, and she smiles unnaturally towards Grian. She speaks and a smooth high voice leaves her glossed lips,
“Crimson, we meet at last. You’ve been quite a thorn in my side for years now. Yet you’re nothing but a child in way over your head” Without a second thought Crimson raises his gun directly at the CEO of the Watcher Foundation and just as quickly as he does Grians steps before the woman blocking Scars path. The avian’s head hangs low, refusing to meet Crimson's eyes.
“What? songbird?” Crimsons staggers back, confusion building up inside him. Fearing to say more as his very throat seems to close. This was wrong.
“Aw that's a cute nickname, isn't it? Oh, son of mine?”
“Yes mother”
Crimson's chest and head pounded, and it took everything in him not to lunge for the woman, this wasn't the plan. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. As fantasies of him pointing out different constellations to a giggling Grian all but darkened and melted away.
“All that strength, all a facade brought down by one little ‘songbird’. Pathetic really, I expected more from you Crimson. The foundation always lands on top. Cuff him”
In seconds Crimson was surrounded by imperial guards with much stronger weapons than his own, he knew his own strength and he knew when he was outnumbered. His weapon clattered to the floor with a thud as his red eyes seeked out Grians who refused to look up from the floor. He was kicked to his knees as his wrists were weighed down with thick cuffs. The guards begin to hoist and drag Crimson as he called out voice thick with heartbreak and betrayal,
“Do I at least get a goodbye? I need to say it to the real you, no smoke and mirrors. You owe me at least that” Grians’s shoulders twitched as his mother motioned him forward, yawning at the inconvenience,
“Go on love, honestly, it's the least you can do seeing as he’ll be seeing nothing but cold stone walls for a long, long time.” Every footstep Grian took seemed to reverberate around the room as no one dared move an inch, Crimson held his head up high, refusing to appear weak in his knelt position, eyes filled with hatred and rage.
“Closer, I'm all tied up songbird, what could I do to untouchable you?” Grian stepped close leaning down to Scar’s height as he gave that signature smile Grian had against his will become so fond of,
“I guess people like me aren't meant for love” he met Grians eyes finally as tears threatened to spill down the blonde's cheeks as if trying to use the moment of silence to desperately beg forgiveness.
In a single second he lunged towards Grian knocking him to the ground and with his last bit of strength grabbed the golden whistle in his mouth as a shrill shriek sounded out and the world around him exploded, bodies fell to the floor as every explosive went off at once and as the ceiling above Scar collapsed, he closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness. After all, it was all he had ever known.
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He studied each little scratch and dent in the grey walls around him, if the food doesn't kill him Scar thinks the boredom will. That or the aches from the burns along her back and his newly acquired limp courtesy of being trapped under stone, they had chucked him off to some offshore prison he had never even heard the name of. It was his fifth time in solidarity in the last 3 months; he preferred it there. His roommate snored too loudly and if he didn't get away, he’d strangle the man in his sleep.
Time moves slowly with no window to see outside he closed his eyes and if he focused enough he could feel the warm comforting rays that would rarely make their way through the city smog on a good day. He woke up, he ate, he remembered how much of a fool he was, he ate, he slept. Over and over again. Freedom was far out of mind, he didn't even get a trial. Or a charge.
He usually slept well in solidarity despite the thin uncomfortable mattress, that's why it struck out to him when he awoke with no tray of breakfast food by the door. Was it still night?
He slowly made his way over to the small bars on the door peering into the darkness, he called out,
“Hello? Is anyone there or have I finally lost it?” He got no response but a flash of golden feathers, blonde hair and the thud of someone falling to the floor made his pulse pick up, a spark light in his chest. A figure wearing a guard helmet far too big for them stood in front of the bars as familiar eyes met his.
“I never stopped looking for you, Scar. I messed up im so sorry, i dont know how you could ever forgive me but i thought breaking you out might be a start. I couldn't go on without you”
“Took you long enough songbird”