RWBY: FaLSE Tale

Chapter 35: New Beginings, Dead Ends

Chapter 35:

Spreading his scalp he looks at his reflection in his scroll, inspecting the white roots that are growing in his deep crimson hair. Spein-El sweeps his hair up. He brushes back a lingering bang from his right eye and feels around the scar, barely has it even begun to fade in tonor appearance, it is still at least two shades darker than he but smoother than a few weeks back.

"So what?" Silva asks. He sits up against the wall beside the bookshelf, covered by a blanket, his eyes still closed. "We're back to you being up at night, sneaking out?"

Spein-El puts on his coat, putting his right arm through the sleeve but only resting the left over the shoulder, he grunts out, "I'm going to the ER, my left side is starting to kill me."

Tossing his blanket off, Silva reveals himself to still be fully dressed. He stands and slaps the back of Spein's head, "Finally, you prideful son of a bitch, let's go." Stumbling out the room, Spein-El follows Silva out, a lucid stare dullen his golden eyes. Silva questions Spein as they walk the city night, "So, what's your plan right now?"

Spein-El speaks with a drag, slightly baited for breaths, "Get checked up, dubbed as Lucifer. Was a passenger on the derailed half, pain went away soon after but suddenly came back around evening."

"Hah! Lucifer?!" Silva glances back, "Nega, I know you didn't just say that!"

Spein-El chuckles, "Well I need a name that won't give my residence too much."

Silva turns and whispers yells at him, "That's a suspicious ass name!"

"In Vale it may, but religion isn't common here..." Spein-El wheezes out, he coughs into his right sleeve again, groaning, "Ugh-! I need an x-ray done, I need to know what is causing me to cough so much blood out."

Silva turns back around, "So what of Spein-El?"

"Well my current plan: I died on the train, taken away by the Grimm. Spein-El is dead, and now I'm Lucifer." He explains, then continues, "If things get bad, then I'll fake it here and disappear for a time."

"You finally disappearing? I guess Melanie's going to celebrate, might even join her." Silva chuckles to himself and then asks seriously, "So what happens to all of your shit?"

"Mil gets a couple things, Luna gets my property, and you- you get my fucking debt, jackass." Spein-El laughs but groans and holds his ribs.

Silva looks back, "Aye, fuck you!"

Spein-El rubs his side and winces, snickering through the pain, "I'm kidding... All of my debts are sworn by word. No, you get what's left of my wealth. I know you don't like Atlas and, well- I need you to be my contact while I'm in there."

Silva checks out the stores on the street, "Heh, well I can't say no to a paycheck. You want me to stay around?"

Coming up to the lot of the hospital, the two stop at the sign. Spein-El shakes his head, he admits, "I've too little to lose more. You can work with the others for a way back, you'll know if things go bad."

"Yeah..." Silva grimaces slightly in place, "Listen, about back at Brunswick- I'm-"

"Let's just pass it off as you being drunk. You didn't notice I didn't leave ahead, I'm still alive, it's good." Walking away, Spein-El heads to the emergency entrance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting on a stiff and uncomfortable bed, a headless man wears pale blue scrubs and holds the top of his head, shuffling the spreading white roots, feeling the soft cushioning hair between his right fingers. His left arm drops limp with the palm faced up, his skin blackened and growing withering away while the three metal fingers stay pristine. When the door opens, the man's heavy eyes open, the dark eyes looking up to the doctor.