Chapter Text
2 days before, 21st March
The door in front Branzy swept shut, barely inches from his face. He puffed out a breath and tried to cool his emotions down.
It was not his fault that he broke five cups, he's just got slippery hands! And besides, the dishwasher was already broken, so him working by it, didn't just break it. His – past – boss even took him to the storage room, so Branzy wouldn't make a scene and scare the customers out! He hated that guy's guts ever since the start of his work there. Branzy was really tempted to just barge through the front door and make a fuss, but then he would give in to the other's beliefs.
When the fired barista went back into reality and realized he was standing in front of the backdoor inches from it as well as staring at it very passively aggressive, he backed away. Grumbled a bit, contemplating his choices before deciding to go home.
Branzy's life was... weird, so to say. He had a bit of unluck towards work and – really – everything. A total of 30 applies for different jobs and 13 times he got the job and got fired, today was the 14th time. His life was also different from others on the illegal side, as in getting kidnapped 4 times, but that was a whole talk for a different time.
The white-haired man flopped on his couch as his roommate got ready to go out.
"I got fired, again. Would you believe it? I knew that Casper was an asshat since the beginning! I'm a bit happy that I'm not working for that guy anymore, the way he spoke was just- just straight up annoying. And he spoke like that all the time!" Branzy rambled, while struggling to grab a pillow for himself still in the laying pose.
"Yeah, you should've went with your gut feelings," replied Rekrap from the other room, getting ready for his second "job". "You remember at the start of your work, when you said the guy was all "bad vibes"? That should've been the breaking point."
"Ye, it should've," Branzy answered drowsily, face finally in a pillow ready to sleep off his current problems and have Future Branzy deal with it.
He heard the window open from the other side of the house.
"The note is in the usual spot. Goodnight!" Rekrap called out.
"You too, don't die on me!"
"I won't!"
Ah, the usual end of their conversations, the sound of a grappling gun being shot out. After a good few seconds, comfortable and sleepy, Branzy closed his eyes.
The day it happened, 23rd March
Branzy opened his eyes to his empty apartment.
He's been stressing for a few hours, Rekrap should've been home from work already, but from many indications, it seemed his roommate never even returned from his second 'job'. His phone was lying on a kitchen counter and his wallet in a jacket.
Honestly, he knew it would happen one day. They talked about it many times before. How from the nightly vigilantism he could just not return, having gone splat on the ground, taken in by a corrupt hero or impaled on a villain's sword. At the time he was alright with the setting, even coming to the terms of accepting it.
Now, as emptiness rounded the halls of his flat, he was far from acceptance.
Branzy stopped pulling at his hair, opting to lightly hit his head (hoping it'd kick some sense into it), thinking of anything he could do.
He could report him to the police as missing or look by himself. Well, he wouldn't find him by himself, Rekrap could always be at a rock bottom of a river or a few dissembled body parts or – or maybe don't think about that Branzy. There were a few flaws with the plan; the police either refusing for going around Lifesteal (a city with everyday crime going rampant with its own supervillains and superheroes) or putting it aside for the many reasons natives leave this place – the corruption of the government and the heroes. Those who knew, got out of there as early as possible. And another defect was that someone could connect the dots between Nightstalker and Rekrap.
There were a few too many flaws with that plan.
So, he kept searching.
He was mussing over the disappearance for a good few hours, searching the internet for any Nightstalker sightings or– well, anything, when something hit him in the head (metaphorically), something so clear he slapped himself a bit too hard on the face (it was intentional). The sink – or more so – the note under it. The silver head quickly ran to the kitchen nearly slipping and reached behind the sink's open insides and pulled out the crumpled paper.
Hey Branzy,
Recently I've found some of Jester's lackey's base and before you freak out, I got another friend with me, and I have to interview. Don't worry, I'll be mostly definitely safe.
I won't die on you,
promises Rek
Branzy paled, putting the note aside and going straight for the laptop. Feeling a bit funny, he kept searching, disregarding the implications. He didn't know what he was trying to pry out of the internet yet, but a few, not very fun ideas formed in his head.
Search: Jester
1 day after, 24th March
Branzy will admit, he cried himself to sleep last time, then regretted it, because he could've been searching for his best friend. When he already found him, he'd let himself cry, vulnerable and restless.
The only thing that changed was the plan. Now he had two more points on a fridge list (that he created in a sheer of panic that he wasn't doing enough):
- Report to the police,
- Go looking by yourself,
- Find the 'vigilante friend',
- Find (somehow) Jester.
Attached to the paper was the note. He was reluctant to check off the first one. Maybe he'd find some vigilantes and talk to them? He definitely did not want to complete nor check off the last point. If occasion struck, maybe he'd be able to talk to him and get information? Maybe somehow, someway. The man apparently only killed people who "stood in his way to success" (as the man said himself, bloodied as he nearly killed one of the top heroes two years prior (Branzy shivered, he really did not want to do it)). Would he be brave enough? No. Would he do it? Only for Rekrap.
The most appealing seemed the first one.
But he couldn’t do it.
The day passed quickly and as the sun went lower and lower, he got himself Nightstalker's clothes with a purple ribbon (his thought process circled around the fact that he wasn't the same person, at least he hoped it would act like that) and went out.
Branzy never realized how peaceful were the rooftops to be on. He felt – to a degree – safe. It was ridiculous, really. He himself having been robbed more times than he could count, especially in the spotlight of the moon.
He sat there, keeping his eyes on the horizon as a colourful hero flew in the distance. The moon moved slowly and so did his progress.
7 days after, 30th March
NIGHT
A body laid unmoving in the grass, amongst trash and leaves that gathered from last autumn.
Branzy watched from above, on the roofs. He's grown used to them in a way.
Its skin was probably still warm.
From the last few days, he's seen that not many people ever look up.
A couple walked past it just moments ago, laughing openly with something akin to hysteria in their voices. The woman pulled her small dagger back into her sleeve, blood still coating it. After a few steps and quieting of the cackling, the man stated:
"It'll be a nice evening, honey. We'll get to see Marley and his girlfriend; we haven't seen them in so long!"
"Yes, how long has it been since the last show? I'm excited for it and the creators," her voice turned sickly as they strolled through dark alleyways.
They giggled together.
"I wonder what they have planned for today," the man clapped his hands in excitement. "The prince has been very generous to us. I'm glad we keep getting the invites."
Branzy's eyes widened under Nightstalker's mask. 'The prince', Prince – one of Jester's allies. This was his chance, he kept following the couple, now at a safe distance. They looped 4 times in 2 different places. Did they know?
Surely, it was for safety purposes only.
Soon enough they made it to an old looking building. At a first glance, abandoned. He stayed far back, staring as they knocked on the door. Someone answered, orange, moving lights presumably from candles greeted them as well as a person. Red upper clothes, black trousers, a mask on their face with something shiny on their head and a sword attached to their belt, another villain, Mapicc. Standing at guard of the place that Jester could be currently located at.
Branzy's heart beat a bit too fast, as he walked around to what he hoped would be the back of the building, but every door, window has been sealed off with planks. Completely blocking off the welcoming orange light from the inside. There could've been also no way to enter the building, the villains having thought of that earlier. There didn't appear any earlier break-in's, the couple 'heart-warmingly informed' him, so that was reassuring.
That information made him disappointed, yet it eased his rocking heart. But he couldn't give up now, even if it meant checking off the last point on his list (or, trying to) first. Rekrap was the only reason he was still alive; he had to make it up to him.
Now, the only thing he needed was an entrance...
8 days after, 31st March
EARLY MORNING
Thanks to whoever out there that made those vents so small, Branzy might be getting claustrophobic. He was touching the tiny vent with his both shoulders, hands laid out in front of him, as he tried to crawl through. He might have been worming for a good half an hour or even more!
He was hoping (quietly praying) that he did not need to go back out this way and especially that no one heard the shuffling of his clothes and the occasional, accidental bumping of his head inside.
After a sweaty journey and surprisingly to his luck, no 90-degree drop, Branzy finally saw a grate leading to a– was that a dressing room? It was massive, each corner displayed with wardrobes, mirrors and mannequins, the only thing on them were masks. Various, very different masks going from gothic, Japanese to colourful, full of necessaries, covering the whole face or only the half (horizontally and vertically) as well as blank.
Before Branzy could asset the whole room, the door to the room swung open. He froze, his heart skipping a beat.
A group of 5 women walked in, each having a fancy outfit yet each different from the rest. There was a quiet chatter, they giggled and pushed themselves around. After a few minutes, they picked up a random mask and left like that.
Branzy strained his ears, wanting to hear if the girls were far away to go inside, but it was eerily deafening, his breaths seemed to be loud wheezes, and the drumming of his heart were pounding off the vent walls.
'Nightstalker' quickly formed a plan and exited picking at the grate and then carefully putting it back. He watched through the wardrobes around the room, picking up a mask (a stunning one at that), quite simple with a few necessaries – going across his upper face up to his nose and from then, a purple veil going down. It connected at the back of his head with flash worth gems. He made sure to grab his bag of necessities (a hunting knife and a few gadgets for spying), which unsurprisingly fit perfectly in his pockets, he made them to be like that.
To look a bit more natural, he discarded the Nightstalker face mask, making his mouth see-through. He really hoped it wouldn't be a problem. The last finishing touch was tiding the purple ribbon into a bow at his right arm.
He waited eagerly, in the dressing- changing (or whatever it was) room until he heard the room open, his eyes catching the newcomers and tracking them, while he 'readied' himself in front of a mirror.
A couple walked in this time, accompanied by two other men who also got themselves a mask and as soon as they came in, they left. Branzy trailing a tad behind them.
The building was massive, many hallways leading somewhere else with chandeliers lighting the path and two pair doors parted by approximately 30 feet. They walked down staircases and even more staircases until the air became wet, cave-like. A pair of colossal doors came into the view with some people milling at an opening but quickly parting left or right. The lights dimmed a bit in the small opening. There was a closed off gap, lights shining from below.
Only when Branzy got closer, did he see the round and spacious crater. It looked like a theatre with what seemed to be an old-looking carpet with dark coloured, symmetrical shapes and patterns. Weirdly, the space was blocked off with low walls.
When he finally looked up front, he saw many balconies placed around, overlooking the gap. People stood over the railings and – he assumed – watching the area below. There was one thing standing out – at the back, above the show area was another balustrade, but fancier.
"It's magnificent, isn't it?" a voice came from beside him.
The disguised 'vigilante' startled at that, but hoped the other didn't notice.
"It is," Branzy replied not too loudly, hiding his pitched voice in a sigh. "I'm ecstatic to see it. I've heard a lot of great reviews."
He was risking with talking to a complete stranger, but maybe getting information from someone like him would be better than such bewildered milestones like Jester, the Prince or their allies.
The man walked over beside him- and oh my, was he bulky. Through the not very matching acidic, green mask hiding the left side of his face and dark blue robes (seriously, what was the guy even wearing) were see-through muscles on top of even more muscles. It was either the guy's superpower or he literally lived in a gym.
"I see you're new?" the guy looked at him with such scepticism and a hard glare, but Branzy only smiled back.
"A friend got me an invite," he started with a sly grin – keeping his voice relatively quiet. He looked the man straight at his one – now wide – uncovered eye. "Yeah, I'm also so shocked! It took me by surprise, the sudden invite I mean. But now, I guess I'm here. Time flies by so fast."
See, Branzy might've been sweating buckets, mouthing off a guy who could probably bench him, but all in all, he worked in a casino before. Now, mouthing off a pip-squeak was no trouble. He backtalked robbers, murderers, once a high ranked villain and even heroes (he had to pay off his debts to Rekrap somehow (even though his roommate never asked for that, it was useful nonetheless).
He broke the eye contact, looking around. There were a few viewing platforms empty. He quickly found himself in one, locking the door and sitting on a comfortable chair, observing the guy as he walked out of sight, seemingly distraught (Branzy snickered). The room set-up reminded him of a very fancy theatre from old movies. He sighed and did the same as the rest, waited.
Not many people ever look up came up to his mind for a quite specific reason.
From the very same platform above the entrance walked in a few very important people. Branzy was suddenly awfully aware of his heartbeat. People clapped and cheered for the creators, the silver head assumed.
On the platform stood about six silhouettes. He tried squinting, but not move too frantically, appear unsuspicious. What if Jester wasn't there?
Eventually Prince appeared, a few close behind. The crowd stopped clapping, watching in anticipation.
"Welcome ladies and gentlemen! I'm glad to see you all again, here on the greatest show of Lifesteal," the voice of the prince was clear and charismatic. "This time as a surprise, I wanted to show a bit of my family roots. And what better way is there than showing the culture?"
He paused dramatically.
"Let the show begin!"
With a clap of his hand, Branzy saw people twitch their heads downwards. His own stayed in place as the company up top sat down. Only then did he see the whole group. To the left of Killer Bunny, sat Jester in all his glory.
He stared and stared into the void of those 'pupils' until music started below, and his head snapped towards it.
A bunch of people settled around in a perfect circle in outfits, he would never in his life know the name of. The sound of boots hitting the ground and a bunch of instruments like violins, drum and bass made a nice rhythm. Soon joined singing in a completely strange language to him.
Branzy returned his gaze towards the man. Could he have the answers? He needed to know.
In a matter of seconds, he found himself wandering the halls of the palace. Branzy knew it wasn't one, but it sure felt like it. His footsteps were muffled by the red carpet, the walls rich in paintings, side lanterns and decorations like pillars or trimmed bushes. It sure gave off a nice impression, but his first one of this building were the tightest vents he'd ever seen and yes, he was going to complain about that for the rest of the night.
All doorways were the same leading up and down, to even more tunnels.
For a minute, he had to reconsider his freshly created plan. Finding some kind of headquarters in this place would be impossible and deadly for him. Now that he thought about it, the idea was horrible. The villains won't leave information in a place like this, and if so, how would he find it? Simply unachievable.
He reached into his pockets; he only needed information and that's all.
Pulling out the smallest microphones Branzy had ever the opportunity to create. He could only hope they still worked. As an engineer, he often experimented on things like this. Apart from learning to act well (backtalking), engineering was his first hobby that he never lost interest in. This little star was the first project he dedicated for someone other than himself. Seeing Rekrap smile was enough of a thank you (what he wouldn't give to see that smile once again).
He went around the seemingly endless halls, dropping the super micro-microphones ever so often. Clothing shuffling, boots lightly hitting the ground and the lanterns' light beams were his only companionship.
After a long loop, he found himself in the underground part once again. At the end of the tunnel, he saw the opening and the closed off gap. With the music still going, he missed the sound of footsteps behind him, when a figure grabbed him from behind, covering his mouth and an arm wrapping his torso in a very uncomfortable hug.
Only the mouth meant no screaming. Branzy understood that a bit quicker than a normal person should. He didn’t even attempt to utter a sound, opting to try and turn his head and see his captor instead.
His mouth was the only thing released, as expected.
"Who are you?" the man whispered and oh– he recognized the voice. The muscular man with a neon, acidic green mask and ugly clothing.
Of course, the earlier confrontation had to bite him in the ass.
"Who are you?" Branzy replied like butter; the calm tone going of his tongue oh so smoothly.
"Don't give me that shit, answer. I could kill you here, right now."
As if the silver head didn't notice that!
"I'm Branzy. Now, who are you?" he decided not to lie, keeping a steady tone of his voice.
He resisted the urge to snicker, when the masked captor stilled just like before. He heard the individual smack his lips, probably preparing another speech, when the weight around his torso disappeared as well as the presence behind him. Someone else smacked their lips, this time to the right:
"Now, gentlemen. Let's not fight," the voice of Shadow, a quite literally void creature with a colourful headband and pure white eyes. Villain with the power to teleport, active teammate of Jester, last seen in action with said man in a bank robbery. "I assume you've both read the invitation's terms and rules of the on-going show."
He looked between the two, the acidic-mask muscleman standing on the other side of the hallway, mouth slightly agape. It was a funny sight, but Branzy was all but thinking about laughing right now. His mouth cracked into a – seemingly ever-present – grin, talking before his mind could process.
"I would agree, but can't a man walk peacefully to the bathroom?" he didn't really agree nor lie to Shadow's statement, gesturing his hands a bit and then biting himself on the tongue for his poor life decisions. Old habits die hard, Branzy thought sombrely.
At that, the man (creature?) tilted his head. And maybe it was a good choice. (Were there even bathrooms in this place? Did the letter come with a map? He was majorly fucking up.)
"Oh? How so?"
That was scary. And what does Branzy do in scary situations? He blabbers his mouth off (he learned that from Rekrap, he mentally wants to smack him and then hug very tightly, never let go).
"Someone told me the bathroom was to the left; I went left, did a whole loop around this entire mansion and decided that I won't be able to find it, might as well come back. So, I did come back and oh my, I'm suddenly being threatened. Typical Tuesday for boring ol' Branzy."
He added the last part as a whisper, more to himself than anyone else, but the man's facial expression changed, his eyes scrunched up a little with his cheeks widening. Was that a smile?
"I apologize you couldn't find it. I'll inform the hosts to make a change in the building's coordination," his voice seemed different, slightly lighter (could he call it that?) than a second ago, but maybe Branzy was imagining things again to make himself feel better. The villain's head turned towards the other human, his face losing all the expression it seemed to have seconds ago. "Is that true, Eight?"
Eight, a small gang leader, only known for selling drugs to the more well-known villains. The man was thrown back, his posture going rigid.
"The guy was–" he stopped himself, forgetting his position in the food chain of supervillains. "I'm sorry, Shadow. Forgive me for my word choice–"
Blackness appeared under his feet, the man's last sound was a yelp, the only thing left off the man was a dark spot on the carpet. Branzy gulped.
Well, that seemed to be the wrong answer.
"Oh man, Redd liked that guy," Shadow said quietly, rubbing his neck and Branzy felt like he shouldn't have heard that. "Anyway, would you still like to be escorted to the bathroom? That sounded weird, sorry–"
"No, thank you," he replied, chuckling awkwardly. This interaction was becoming weirder every second. "I should come back and see the show now."
"It was nice to meet you...?" he stopped, waiting for a name.
"Branzy."
"Nice, see you Branzy," the man waved morphing into the shadows.
"Bye, Shadow," he answered at an empty wall, deciding to go back to his viewing platform. Giddy from the encounter, Branzy pulled his hands into fists to stop the shaking from the adrenaline. Oh man, how he missed this.
The show below was slowing down, the dancer's mask looking up as they swooned from one place to another. This time, as he sat down, eyes were tracking his own movement.
Well, that was a problem.
Clown observed as Branzy sat down, watching the show below. He wondered how Spoke could be interested in someone like that. There was nothing really intriguing in mouthing off someone better, talking to a villain as if a friend. It could've been a simple act. He's seen people like that, conversating with Jester in a tone you'd hear if they asked for your favourite colour, but underneath the facade, they would be praying for mercy and peace.
The show was finally changing from the nice 'act and sing'. He eyed Branzy, who was looking at the show intensely. From the floor sprouted the new substance, Zam called 'the oozing effect', which entered a human's body by skin contact, turning cells and muscles into jelly, spreading inside a person until it reaches their brain and soaks inside. Afterwards, all that would be left was slime- used in redstone. This whole show did have some benefits after all.
The folk people started getting the effects in a few minutes, their screams reverberating off the theatre observing platforms. Clown relished off the sound. He looked at the people below, some stood up. The ones visible with half uncovered mask were smiling maniacally, watching like coyotes as the lion teared a zebra apart, waiting to leave their shadows and feed off the corpse. It was purely interesting how humans worked.
His eyes landed on Branzy, who was sitting on the chair seemingly frozen as his eyes stayed in place, looking at the piling corpses. Fear was radiating off him. Gurgling sounds loud enough to be heard such high up. He didn't lie, when he told Zam this place was fascinating.
"Jester," Shadow said from behind him. He hummed in response, boring his eyes into Branzy like said man did to him before. "I found something interesting; you might want to look into it."
Finally, he looked away and a small, black device landed on his palm. He turned it around. At least it looked like some kind of device, but being so small said otherwise. He turned his head to Spoke asking a silent question, who in response started explaining:
"The sweet little angel over there planted these microphones around. Impressive, aren't they?"
This time he had to give it to the void creature, Branzy was rapidly stealing his attention.
"Yes," Jester replied, looking into the microphone more. "Did you find anything on him?"
"Without a struggle," Shadow chirped beside him, handing him Branzy Craft's files. He started filing through them, while Spoke went to annoy Mapicc.
Clown had to admit; the guy was interesting. It wasn't a mystery to discover his motive – information or recruitment. Either one, he was happy to bargain with the guy. With this type of technology, he would be able to do a lot more.
After talking with Zam, Kab and Mapicc, he set out to talk.
He used a spare key that fit in all doors to get inside. Branzy still sat frozen in his spot, as the show was coming to an end. Unbeknownst to him, Jester stood in the shadows of the viewing platform. People cheered louder than at the start, Zam got her usual speech in, and the booths were slowly emptying. Expect for this one.
Branzy just sat still, and Clown was losing patience. The hallway emptied. It lead to him sitting beside the masked man, which seemed to do the trick and Branzy was broken out of the trace, sputtering out a response to Jester sitting beside him:
"Hi there, big guy!"
Clown blanked. When Spoke told him Branzy 'casually talked with him', he didn't think it would be this. Sure, the other was scared but he also seemed to be surprised; the grin was most likely a coping mechanism with fear.
"Hello Branzy," he answered, succeeding to keep the curiosity out of his voice. "I assume you know why I'm here."
Jester held out his hand with the microphone. The masked man's visible skin paled as a reply.
"You see, we could strike a deal. Something simple – a few gadgets like this for the information you want," he observed closely for reactions. Instead like he hoped for, the man stilled, but his eyes didn't speak fear, hidden or revealed. His eyes buried into Clown's mask, almost like a challenge. Jester tilted his head at the purple irises. "Or do you want recruitment? We'll welcome you with loving arms."
As a demonstration, he stretched his arms out in a hug-like form. Clown was hoping for both; the scythe in his hand menecingly glistening. Branzy's purple eyes tracked his weapon, before snapping towards him.
"Can't say I wasn't thinking of both," the confident answer surprised him once again. The guy seemed to smile wider, leaning slightly towards him.
So, they were already playing? The only thing lacking were rules.
Before Branzy could take in a breath, Jester was already up and behind the other, circling his chair. His scythe scraping over the chair, he stopped when the weapon made contact with skin. Clown leaned down, his mask next to the other's ear.
"I'm being generous, Branzy. Let's have none of that , shall we?" he whispered. It was all a power play; he was acting the bigger role. Leaning away, he put his hands on the other's shoulder, making him squirm.
"Yeah, yeah! No- none of that. Sure thing, sir-e!" Branzy staggered across his words, as Jester went back to stand in front of him.
Branzy's hands were still shaking. Everything could be done with a sprinkle of threatening!
"I'm sure our deal can be finalised in no time," Jester stated, leaving no room to dwell on an answer.
He could tell that Spoke was watching from the shadows and Kab from their balcony. He pulled out a business card, Branzy stood up and he handed it to him. Before the other could say anything else, Jester was already leaving.
Clown couldn't help but let the ghost of a smile slip into his facade. Branzy was fun to mess with.