The night after the concert Sam had gone straight back to the Academy - and to her room. The festivities still weren't over and even at this late hour, the music was carried around the halls giving the whole building a truly magical atmosphere. Sam, however, didn't stop to listen and she didn't join in. If she had, she would be compelled to play Sameda and Hazumi had recently warned her to cut down its usage - even to the point of signing her off some missions her classmates were assigned. Something about indulging too much in the Instrument, she had said. Sam found such a warning odd but nonetheless, she complied. She was rash, that much she admitted, but she didn't like to think of herself as stupid. If the Essence was stopping her ever-wandering gaze on Sam personally, then there must be reason enough, she figured.
So, she tried her best to detach herself from the Instrument for a while. Music, however, she couldn't shy away from. She could only substitute one for another. Thus she shut herself in her room and put her headphones on, crashing on the bed and closing her eyes. Ibuki's voice shouted gently in her ears and for a precious hour that was all she needed. As the clock ticked the minutes away, however, the cursed reality thickened itself around her, pushing its way in through the headphones. Gradually the absolute perfection of the record stood out, the coldness of the captured moment more and more obvious. It lodged into her brain like a pesky mosquito refusing to go away no matter how hard you waved. The sameness, the sameness and the crystal, clinical purity of it driving her mad to the point of her ripping the headphones off her head and tossing them across the room with an angry shout. Sam stared blades at them for another minute, accusation in her eyes for events long past, as if they had personally offended her. Then she went and picked them back up.
Changing the disk helped. At least that band she didn't know personally and she didn't listen to any song more than once. It was borrowed from Disen Brown and so Sam knew nothing of what she listened to. It was a surprise, and though it wasn't always a pleasant one, it entertained her for a while. There were elements of the music to learn from and elements to beware of and she learned from both.
After that got boring and tedious as well (approximately two hours in), Sam decided she'd had enough of listening to music and turned the player off. Not getting rid of the headphones, she reached into her pocket and took one shining glass orb out. It had a yellow tinge to its glow, like that of a dim lightbulb or an autumn day's sun. Right beneath that halo, the only thing marking the rim of the crystal, was almost pure darkness, only disturbed by iridescent waves of what she believed to be essence cruising from the centre of the Instrument to the surface and curling in the process like smoke. The said center was a darkness even deeper than the prior, around it another halo of light. The Instrument could always grow stronger, Sam knew, always assimilate one more soul, and when it did, a tunnel appeared between the edge and the centre, sucking the essence in, despite the globe never changing shape. She supposed that meant there was more demon in this particular shard than angel, but it hardly mattered in the end.
Sam tossed Sameda above her head and caught it. It produced the soft cling of metal trapped in metal like a chinese boading ball. A sound it knew she loved, and one she'd love to hear clear and unmuffled by the headphones - but resisted, smirking. She took her eyes off the Instrument and scanned the room. It wasn't near as lavish as some of them, more functional than impressive. Sure, the walls were still covered in an intricate wallpaper and the curtains still stood, but most everything else was gone. Usually broken in her early days of mastering Sameda. In fact, if anyone looked close enough, they would see parts of the wallpaper weren't actual details of the design, but walls revealed and dented.
She was better now and she proved it by throwing the orb against one of the pillars of her bed. It bounced off in a perfect line to reach the wall and from there- the opposite pillar. Sam caught it and threw it again, this time flinging it at the pillar behind her shoulder from where it sped towards the next one. She kept the game up and made it more complicated by increasing the tempo until she was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed and had both Samedas hurled around all four pillars at almost untrackable speed. Unfortunately, the activity also meant more sound, more temptation, and inevitably Sam had taken her headphones off without realizing. It took her another hour to recognize the itch to play and how she had subconsciously started to sate it. Somewhat shocked, she stopped, staring confusedly at the wall while the last sounds of Sameda bled out.
Sam looked at her watch. Only 2 AM. The girl drummed her fingers on the face of the watch, threw a thoughful look at the ceiling, then grinned and jumped out the first-floor window and into the night.
It was hours later when she took a deep, satisfied breath, and pulled out a phone. Quickly she dialed the number of a man who she'd assigned as her own "calm coach" and chirped happily.
"Hi, birdie, where are you?"
Sighing lightly, but audibly, at the nickname he heard as he opened his phone, Crow responded curtly even as he headed towards Loom's Great Library. "Downtown, Loom. The Great Library," he sounded bored, as usual, but then his tone picked up slightly, [B]'Funny, I was going to call you over when I got there. Guess you beat me to it, bravo," she would hear him clapping slowly, though the sound would be quieter over the phone. "Anyways, I'll be there in roughly 5 minutes and I'll have someone for you to meet so hurry over." At that he closed the phone rather curtly, hanging up on her. They could talk when she arrived, till then he didn't have any time to waste. He needed to brief Rhett before Samantha arrived.
Rhett shuffled his feet among the rows and rows of books that expanded seemingly endlessly before him. He was getting impatient and tired of waiting for Crow. Who had given him a phone and told him to meet him at the Loom library. Which, Rhett had to admit, was in a much nicer part of town. His new residence was around here as well. Nice place Rhett supposed. It had a decent sized living room, bed was alright and the kitchen was clean. Of course these were all things Rhett thought to himself in an attempt to give compliments to his new home. But he didn't really care about the conditions of anywhere he lived. Once you sleep among your own shit for a few years on end you start to not care anymore where you sleep. Well at that point, you don't really care about anything.
Still the place was nice enough, but what Rhett cared about was his supply of alcohol. A promise which Crow kept good. One could tell, because Rhett's breath now had that stinging smell of liquor, and strong liquor to boot. It wasn't an unpleasant smell to those accustom to booze, but it was almost overpowering stench in regards to Rhett. Who could easily out drink a bar full of sailors, and had done so many times. It wouldn't be an odd question to wonder how the man was still standing, let alone walking about so casually and with so much control over his body. One could smell his drunkeness, but no one would ever see it. Especially when he pulled out a gun and maimed someone with it.
He had kept his leather holster on his waist. But he had enough sense to keep his newly acquired pistol in his bag-a gift from Crow. A Semi with a silencer attached. Nothing special, but it was of good quality. Rhett made sure of that when he spent his evening drinking and taking the gun apart. Only to wake up this morning and put it back together before heading out to meet with Crow. He still kept his machete attached to his holster though, that he refused to hide from anybody. The woman at the front of the library noticed it and looked at him. But Rhett's general appearance was too intimidating to stand up to him. He didn't look like some bum wandering in though, his clothing was... oddly neat. His pants tucked into his boots as usual. With an unbuttoned long sleeve shirt with a wife-beater underneath. Clothing that had been a gift from Crow.
He scratched his beard and let out a yawn as he sat down on the bench and took a sip of his flask from his backpack. Seriously where the fuck was Crow? Rhett didn't like to be kept waiting.
He would wait to hear his words, then it would be time to launch into his instructions for Rhett, because this was one assignment that he could not botch up. It was also a test to see how well the man could follow instructions and remain somewhat discreet. He hoped that he hadn't misjudged him.
Roughly five minutes later Crow's car pulled up in front of the Great Library and Crow exited, nodding to the driver as usual before he calmly climbed the steps. The library, which was no longer abandoned like it had been hundreds of years prior, was fortunately not all that active at 4:35 AM. Nonetheless, he knew that the librarian would have let Rhett in. She, and her several associates, practically lived in the place, and even if they hadn't he'd have assigned someone to watch the building.
It was one of his ways of making sure that a certain someone did not return, and if he did, then he'd know.
Entering the Library, his footsteps silent, Crow noted Rhett's essence, which he followed through the halls till he found the man. Rhett narrowed his eyes at Crow when he showed up. Rhett did have patience, he just didn't like extolling that virtue to anyone. Though he couldn't grumble too much, his gut was full of whiskey and it hadn't been for some months. So his angry glare at Crow was fleeting before it relaxed into a more simple look but always just as grim. With those dull red eyes of his.
"Good morning Rhett," he said with a slight smile, seeming pleased that he'd shown up. "I hate to keep you waiting, but I had a few other matters to take care of. Nonetheless, your...first assignment will be arriving here soon enough, she tends to find me quickly when I tell her there's something interesting waiting for her." He smirked slightly, a slightly devious look barely creeping into his eyes before it faded and was replaced by his normal seriousness. "I see that you've been enjoying your accommodations," he stated, noting the distinct smell of alcohol, though it did not bother him.
“Some woman? Rhett asked inquisitively. “What am I to do with her? He asked in his now characteristically thick accent.
Nodding slightly and glancing out one of the high stained glass windows of the circular interior of the library. He had always enjoyed its architecture. "Her name is Samantha Rule, also known as Beat. She's a student at the Academy, I figure you've heard of them." Noting a slight ache for a taste, he reached to the chest pocket in his shirt and extracted two inch object which appeared to be metallic. Tapping the top and then the side, the first once, and the second thrice, the object unfolded until it had extended into what appeared to be a wine glass. The object appeared to fill itself with wine before he took a decently long drink, after which the liquid drained back into the glass, and the glass itself folded back into its prior form. He stored this in his pocket one more and continued. "Better," he nodded to himself and looked back at Rhett, "I want you to keep an eye on her and make sure she comes to as little harm as possible. She's bound to get herself into some dangerous situations, the thrill seeker she is. If you can get on her good side, that'd be even better. With any luck she'll be an informant by the end of this," he laughed slightly at the idea.
"She will be your charge when you're not doing other missions that I'm sure will suite your skills. She should be here within the next 5 or 10 minutes." He checked his watch and then glanced at Rhett, "Within your abilities?" It was a question of confirmation, rather than a question of his skills.
“So just babysit some brat?” Rhett huffed at Crow and then shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever, as long as she doesn't get in my way when I'm doing actual work”. For a moment, Rhett's body language and tone shifted to something rather unexpected. He seemed awkwardly surprised and prideful in an annoyed manner. He looked and often talked like an older man, but for a glimpse, there was a hint of something...rather boyish about him. It was a subtle unconscious reminder of his own age, that he was barely older than the “brat” he was looking after. Of course if anyone was both smart enough to pick up on such hint and stupid enough to point it out to him, they would be shitting their own teeth for a week.
“She better be here soon. I don't like waiting.” He said in a tone that was harsher than usual.
Nodding, but not smiling at the interesting reaction, Crow gestured towards one of the reading tables before he went and sat down himself, "It shouldn't be long now."
As if on cue, a shout was heard from the entrance of the library.
"What do you mean I have to leave my belongings in a locker?! Why would I be carrying them if I wanted to just ditch them somewhere?! "
The hustled voice of the librarian seemed to try to calm the young female down. The explosion of running footsteps suggested she hadn't managed. Samantha Rule blasted through the doors of the room Crow and Rhett were currently occupying. She had a huge and terribly suspicious black bin-bag across her shoulder and an old librarian and a young security guard at her toe.
Skidding, she brought her body to a stop behind Crow and pointed at her pursuers from over his shoulder.
"Crow, tell them you've been expecting me and they should get off my tail before I show them why they call me Beat!"
An eyebrow raising at the sound of activity and trouble, Crow waited patiently, quite aware that it was Sam who had entered the building. It was good to know that the security officers were doing their jobs. A moment before she burst into the room, Crow gave Rhett a look that suggested he pay attention. Then entered the infamous Beat, or Samantha, rather. She practically hid behind him, speaking quickly, a bit out of breath, even as she pointed at the approaching guards. As they entered the room one reached for their gun, thinking she was threatening him, but Crow merely shook his head, meeting eyes with the man before he raised his hand and motioned for them to quiet down. "Apologies, this is Samantha, a friend of mine. Excuse her tendencies, I assure you she'll cause no trouble without receiving a harsh scolding from myself." One of them barely managed to hide a look of fear as he mentioned scolding her as for some of his other men, that could mean some horribly terrible things.
Nonetheless he took his hand away from his holster, and they exited the room, closing it behind them. He then looked at Rhett, paying little mind to Sam's physical proximity to him. "As I told them, this is Samantha Rule, Sam, this is Rhett. I met him recently, something of a wandering vagabond you might say. In your words, a hardened badass." He said the last words with some disdain, he was used to lowering his manner of speech for the sake of others.
Sam would be used to it by now.
Rhett observed the scene with a blatant sense of disinterest. As the guards left the room, he looked harder at the woman, who was still behind Crow. She seemed like a little bundle of energy. And from the academy as well? He had heard that term only a few months ago, but apparently it was school of magic for Humans. So she could easily take care of herself. So why did Crow want him to babysit the girl? He wanted her as an informant yes, but that wasn't in Rhett's job description. If Crow wanted a rat, he would have to do that himself. Then Rhett's line of thinking jumped to the conclusion that Crow was the kind of man who if he was forced to actually do something directly, he would want some insurance to make it worth his time. Ahhhhh. Rhett was the insurance.
Rhett stood up and walked over to the woman, standing just a foot away from her. He was a tall man who found himself towering over the girl, getting a better read on her. Looking into her face, with those dull, red eyes of his.
“Seems like a handful," he said morosely.
As the security walked out Sam was shamelessly sticking her tongue out at them as if there wasn't a real threat of them shooting her just a moment ago. The perks of being fearless, really - you rarely gave a damn about how many people might have a voodoo doll resembling you in their basement. Only half of her attention seemed to be on the two men around her, until she heard the words "hardened badass". At that her head snapped in Rhett's direction, eyes gleaming, their glow only intensified as the man approached her.
He hovered over her, despite her being taller than the average girl, and that made her grin. There might not been any intentional provocation in his action, maybe Crow's very introduction had served as flint, but the challenge was blatant in her eyes. The way Rhett held his head high while he looked down on her made her want to gift him with a good old uppercut.
"Nice to meet you, Mister." She chirped. "Do you like hats?"
“No, not particularly” he said blandly. If he had noticed the flare in her eyes, he didn't react to it. His expression was usually a constant a blank slate, with his matted, thick black beard covering most of his face. The only hint of emotion one could normally pick was in his eyes. But that was the most peculiar thing about him. Those red pupils expressed less than his entire face. There was no feeling behind those eyes. But that's what made them ironically show more meaning than his grim blank face. Those eyes had nothing in them; no sense of life or ambition or thoughts. As if those sunken, dull red eyes were keeping something from being shown or said.
Rhett turned to Crow and raised an eyebrow questioningly at him. This was the all important informant? She seemed like a crazed ditz...with magical powers....ah fuck.
“So now that you've set up this stupid play date, I hope that you have something for me to do” He said to Crow bluntly.
Crow smiled, "Why of course I do Rhett, I thought you might be looking for something more...challenging, so I have decided to give you a chance to showcase some of your more...developed skills." Glancing at the girl, Crow retained his smile, thinking for a long moment before he addressed her, "You on the other hand, have school today. However, I have a ticket or five to a particular event later this week if you would like to go with some friends. If I'm not busy I might even accompany you."
Sam herself was disappointed to see the disinterest in the stranger's eyes so she quickly dismissed him and turned her attention to the bag she was carrying. At least Crow's promise cheered her up and piqued her curiosity. "Thanks, Crow, that sounds great. Hope you can come too. I have something for you too." She said cheerfully, her whole arm plunging in the giant bin-bag. Finally she pulled out a red cowboy hat and gleefully slipped it on her head. Then she bent down again and spilled the contents of the bag. At least a hundred hats of all shapes and sizes.
"This is a gift to your friend the Mad Hatter, it took me 2 hours (and a lot of running around) to get them." She announced with obvious pride. " Just be careful, some of them might be wanted." She waved a hand in the general direction of a police cap and a fireman's helm.
Looking over the pile he nodded slightly, extracted his phone, and sent a text to one of his subordinates. A man walked in two minutes later and carried the bag of hats back out. Crow smiled lightly at Sam, an expression he did not wear in front of many others, and spoke. "I'm sure Falair will quite enjoy your gift. I'm having James," he gestured to the man who was walking out, "...take the bag to my car so I can give them to him when we meet later." Raising his wrist and checking his watch, Crow then looked between the two till his eyes eventually rested on Sam. "I figure you should head back to the Academy, eh? Knowing you, I imagine you'll be making a few stops. I've some business to take care of, and a delivery to make for Falair," he gave her a wink before he continued, rising to his feet and checking himself over briefly as he did. "Rhett, come with me, I'll explain on the way to the rendevous," he looked at Sam one last time and waved, "Have a good day, feel free to stop by later, I'd love to hear about your day." He then turned, expecting Rhett to follow, and began walking out of the small room and towards the library's grand exit.
Rhett nodded and strung his backpack over his shoulder. But not before taking his flask out and taking a good long gulp. The stinging feel of the liquid as it burned down his throat and then settled nicely into his belly kept him content among this waste of a meeting. What was this? Did Crow really bring him to some library to meet some fucked up brat? He didn't like to be dragged into things that led nowhere. He needed to keep an eye on the girl. Okay, a picture and a phone call would have done the exact same thing. And Rhett could have stayed home. Drinking and tinkering with the equipment he had been provided.
Sighing a bit, Sam thucked her hands deep in her sweatpants.
Her enthusiasm dead (or rather, mercilessly slaughtered) she rubbed the floor with her foot. Sighing again she adjusted the cowboy hat on her head and started towards the Academy.
Rhett narrowed his eyes at Sam as he walked away. She looked dissapointed. Looks like she wanted in on the potential fun. He smirked slightly, she wouldn't be a problem.
“A spunky school girl. You have some weird friends, you know that?” Rhett said to Crow, in an almost mocking voice as he took another swig from his flask and left with Crow
