[ 04 ]
ONE OF THE REASONS WHY Narcissa liked Semper City as much as she did were its streets. To most, they would appear ugly, even grotesque, with their grey concrete and grey streetlamps and grey skies. Some of the alleys seemed to twist into nowhere, making tourists stay only to the main roads. Even in those, it wasn't safe, but for a milder threat. It was always pickpockets, whether they were hooded men or women in puffer jackets or children with little pockets all over their trousers. On more than one occasion, Narcissa had witnessed someone reaching into another's pocket and pulling out a phone or wallet before sprinting away or slinking off with the flow of the crowd.
Sometimes, someone else would notice as well, and alert everyone in the vicinity, screaming and shouting. That way, it was increasingly becoming easier for her to spot the country idiots, bumbling and wearing their money around their belts, from the city ones, who kept their wallets in zipped up pockets inside their jackets and never wore earphones, to make sure they had time to run before the bullets rained down. It wasn't that gun laws were any more lax than in any other city, it was to the contrary - but rather it was because there were so many.
They wanted to stop crime, but instead of putting more police officers on the streets, they threw more people in jail. People rarely walked the streets unarmed, but they would get home, they'd find their apartment ransacked with an address on their counter. Those addresses listed the places they could give themselves up, or their weapons. If they did neither, soon Crux agents would be at their doors, dragging them away. Narcissa had seen it happened before - it wasn't that rare of an occurrence.
That was why she'd been separated from her family, to fulfill their legacy. Nearly two decades before, they'd done the exact same. There'd been five of them, back then, geniuses and prodigy - the cream of the crop. With that crop, the harvest failed. The heroes, the supposed saviours of Semper City, turned against the vigilante society known as Crux that fancied themselves as the kingmakers. Privately, Narcissa knew that they were weak, weaker than most, but they wouldn't ever say it publicly, and she had no voice to say it. The Viper's hiss was brushed off by most as secrecy and lies.
They were perfectly right.
Narcissa was a great liar, and an even better thief. It wasn't that she told lies - no, she became them. Her feet crunched on the gravel as they trudged through the street. Releasing a bitter laugh, she watched Finn as he effortlessly scaled the wall at the back of the alley, landing with a slight thump on the ground. She narrowed her eyes, and let her smirk broaden as she slipped through a hole in the brick, hidden behind a dumpster that she'd nudged with her foot. Next to Finn, she appeared so composed that it was almost laughable. After all, she hadn't expected much from him, so it was no shock for Narcissa.
It had, however, provided a great source of entertainment as she watched Semper City's greatest superhero stumble and stutter. Crux hadn't raised them to find inconsistencies, to analyse and plan. Their purpose had always just been to fight, conquer, attack and defend. Considering it all, it was a wonder that Narcissa had managed a whole ten years with them, really.
"How did you know that was there?" Finn asked reluctantly as her nails pressed down on the buttons of the burner phone in her palm.
"The gap?" Narcissa responded, her voice light.
He gave her a single nod, too proud to say anything else that might come across as a compliment or admiration. Hiding her smile, Narcissa shoved the phone into an inside pocket of her leather jacket. There could never be enough pockets, not when she had so many weapons to utilise, and so little time.
She tossed a curtain of choppy black hair over her shoulder, suddenly overly interested in the cuticles of her left hand. Tugging at the skin for a silent moment, she eventually raised her head, red-lipstick covered lips pursed slightly.
"Didn't."
"What?" Finn's eyes drifted down the ground, and Narcissa noticed how scuffed the toes of his black sneakers were.
"I didn't know it was there," she repeated, her fingers impulsively twitching as they edged toward her neck, before realising that the Mask was not there. It would be the dumbest thing possibly ever done if she'd worn it out, so exposed - and though Narcissa wouldn't stubbornly admit it - it made her extremely vulnerable.
On top of that, Finn had revealed himself to be terrible at subtlety, only making her job harder and much more frustrating. Had it not been for her reward, she'd have strangled him back in her prize room and run off centuries ago. But no - he had to be there, with an impossibly dazzling white smile, which never seemed to leave his face, not even when he slept. Not that Narcissa watched him sleep, of course. That would just be weird. But she couldn't just trust him blindly, no matter what their history was or had once been.
"Hhm."
Finn's fingers flashed gold for the barest second, and she blinked, wondering whether it had been a trick of the light.
"You're not being careful enough," she snapped, slapping his hand away as he grazed the wall with his fingertips.
Graffiti glared back at them, caricatures of the buildings around them. Clearing her throat, Narcissa took a pair of gloves out of her back pocket, her own hands encased in the same black material. With a slightly uncomfortable look, Finn forced them onto his hands, wincing as the seams began to split. A hole soon peaked through the joints, and he wrenched the glove off with an apologetic sigh.
"Sorry," he muttered, and Narcissa let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a stifled laugh. Snatching it from his grasp before he could even think to accidentally turn it to gold, or something even worse, she folded her arms.
"You are the most useless person I've ever had the misfortune to meet," she breathed, clawing at his collar.
Flinching, Finn started down the alley, pulling his hood over his head. "Am I, now?"
Narcissa let out a low hiss. "Yes, Midas. You are."
• •
An hour or so later, they found themselves at the reception desk of one of the seediest motels Narcissa had ever seen, even for her tastes. It hadn't managed to faze her, not quite yet, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult to hide her disgust as a cockroach ran over her foot, a few more pouring across the floor from under a particularly moldy sofa.
Next to her, Finn spluttered and wheezed as he tried to stop himself from gagging, eyes trained on a patch of what looked to be fungus in the corner of the ceiling, dripping some sort of green juice. For once, Narcissa didn't blame him for his weakness - even her own stomach was more fragile in this motel than anywhere else.
Raking her nails across the keycard, she forced a innocent smile on her face, hooking her arm around the crook of Finn's elbow. He looked as if he wanted to complain, but biting his tongue, let her speak. Narcissa wanted to laugh at the sound of her own voice, high-pitched and sickly sweet.
"Mornin'. Me and my boyfriend here, we'd like to book a room. You got any, ma'am?"
She felt Finn stiffen, and bared her teeth in a tight grin, squeezing his hand until her nails almost dug into his skin. He'd always been an awful liar, but she wildly hoped that he'd improved, at least a little bit. If not, they were about to be in trouble, that was for sure.
Behind the reception desk, a woman with a perm that looked fit for twenty years ago and slightly smudged purple lipstick peered at them over her glasses. A fine layer of filth had settled on her computer screen, and as she handed them a single key on a grubby string, she picked up a cigarette from the tabletop, the tip still smoking, and held it between her fingers. Her nails were brown with dirt, and Narcissa held onto Finn's arm tighter, holding back a gag.
She hated motels.
They brought back memories of being scared and alone, dirty and hungry. Of feeling like her head was going to burst, and she'd be another one of the bodies unlucky travellers lifted up their overly lumpy mattresses to find. She couldn't help thinking that it was places like these that sometimes would make heroes necessary.
Sometimes.
She hadn't given in to idealism, not yet. Not when there was money to be made and power to be seized. Power - but not the one most people would've thought of. No, Narcissa Corvus didn't want a crown on her head, no kingdom to rule over, for she was no queen. Not a queen, not the queen, no-one to bow to but herself, no man, no woman - and if she were to fall, she would do it with as much force as she could. Fall like a supernova, dragging everything around her down along with her.
In her dreams, that was what happened. In real life, the Scarlet Serpent gripped on so tightly that it felt as if it might never end, before letting so abruptly that it was like she'd never even been there.
"Molly," Finn was saying as Narcissa blinked, his arm slung around her shoulders. She'd abandoned her leather jacket for a blue t-shirt, hair tied back and face free of makeup, a stark contrast from her usual appearance. Instead, Finn had the jacket around his waist, glasses covering most of his face and the hoodie he'd been wearing before peeled off to reveal a grey flannel. They looked like tourists, a young couple starry-eyed in the famous Semper City. Probably one of the idiots that stayed in motels like this for fun, like the one they were meeting now.
Unlike tourists, Narcissa's contact didn't have a suitcase to lug around, or any possessions to be stolen. All she had was a pack of playing cards, a comb and the clothes on her back. Narcissa's stomach clenched into a knot as she imagined the filth in that room. Forcing her lips into a smile, she looked up at Finn, laughing in a way that she would've never been caught dead doing, had she been herself. To her, it sounded like a chipmunk, but she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes, gone as quickly as it had arrived. The knot in her stomach grew tighter, and she cleared her throat.
"Let's go then! First time in Semper," she told the receptionist, who cast her a glare. "Tomorrow, we're seeing the Fidelis Statue. We're just gonna explore today, aren't we, Dave?" Narcissa held back a laugh as she saw Finn's Adam's apple bob uncertainly in his throat. Shoving the key into her pocket, she gripped his hand firmly and led him away from the reception, teeth still bared in a grin. As soon as the glowering receptionist was out of earshot, Narcissa let her smile and hand drop, replaced with a scowl.
"Holy shit, you're the worst liar I've ever encountered," she snarled as they ascended the creaking stairs, the wood equally mouldy and pungent as it was downstairs.
"Look, maybe I'm not a criminal!" Finn retorted, his gentle voice taking on a shade of anger that didn't match him.
"Newsflash. Running away makes you a criminal, golden boy." Narcissa let her hair out of the bun, running through it with her fingers.
"Don't call me that."
"Why? Fresh from Crux and you think you know the world? Cause really, you don't know shit, Finneas."
Evidently stung, Finn was silent for a moment. "You know, I used to care about you. Loved you, even."
"You're an idiot for doing that, then."
"You're not the judge of that. Stop playing devil's advocate for once, Narcissa." He took a single step, distancing himself from her with an unreadable expression on his face.
"You act like a kid. Grow up!" Her voice raised an octave.
"You act like a liar and a murderer. Oh wait - you don't have to act." With that, he untied the jacket from around his waist, throwing it at her and storming up the stairs.
Though she was furious, Narcissa knew she had to follow him. Reluctantly picking the jacket up and dusting it off, she raced up the stairs after him. Just as she was about to speak again, another voice wriggled out from the shadows, youthful and snarky, and from it, a girl.
With box braids in a hasty ponytail and the strangest eyes that Narcissa had ever seen, Pandora leaned back against the grimy wall, her trademark smug smirk plastered on her face. Purple eyes ran over the two of them, before narrowing suspiciously.
"Mornin', Scarlet. Midas."
She inclined her head toward Finn, reaching forward to firmly shake Narcissa's hand. Her touch was icy cold, unsurprising given the overall splendor of the motel, notably the lack thereof.
Pandora yawned, her shirt unbuttoned to reveal a grey-tinged vest that must've once been white. Her favoured pack of cards danced absent-mindedly in her palms, until she pulled out one, her grin broadening.
"The Joker. Your card?" she nodded at Finn, who tried to hide his confusion. Scoffing, Narcissa snatched a card from the deck, cradling it between her index and middle fingers.
"Queen of Hearts."
Pandora bowed, and Finn coughed from the corner.
"At ease," Narcissa whispered, her voice rough. "We have business to do, Pandora."
[ end ]