( the green scholar )
★
CHLOE LONGED FOR twenty-first-century technology. Gone were the days of facial recognition and secured lines, of a simple internet search and motor vehicles. And good music.
(If Chloe had to listen to classical music one more time...)
She leaned against the brick wall of Henry's shop as he rifled through his documents inside. The sun kept the young adult warm against the sharp breeze London's early fall provided. She was used to the warm air Wakanda had provided her, no matter how short that period of time actually was. If her friends were here―
―Henry derailed that train. "Here are the files of all the people that came to mind."
The Assassin took the files from the man's hand. Eyeing the people that passed, Chloe sunk further back into the shadows and opened the file.
It was small― only three people had immediately caught the attention of the trio Chloe had enlisted for help. One was an old apprentice of a Doctor Bruster, one was apart of a group of engineers that had a past of aligning themselves with the Templars, and one was the leader of a weird cultist group that worshiped the unexplained.
Peter Kane, Dorian Jones, and Andrea Rolen.
With addresses and targets in mind, Chloe snapped the file shut and pushed herself off the wall. "'Appreciate the help."
Henry tilted his head. "Where are you going?"
The tension between her eyebrows increased. "Uh... out?"
"Did you expect us to allow you to go on this mission alone?"
Chloe placed her body in a way that she could easily make an escape if need be. "You've helped out more than I could've asked for."
Henry shrugged. "Are we not allies?"
She raised a brow.
"I promise not to underestimate the gravity of the situation," Henry said, his hands open in a non-threatening gesture. "However, I could not forgive myself if something happened to you, and I could've prevented it."
The woman finally understood the fondness for this man. She pointed at him, accusingly. "If you slow me down at all―"
"―I would not dream of such a thing."
Chloe sighed, giving in and waving her hand discreetly in her direction.
Henry grinned and followed.
★
They decided to check out their first contender― the occultist Andrea Rolen.
She wasn't particularly hard to find. Flyers had been spread throughout the city depicting a club for those simply looking for a new hobby. Free to sign up and no particular requirements, it had slowly become popular to the same people who were obsessed with that whole Spring-Heeled Jack fiasco that Chloe read about in the papers.
It seemed innocent enough― but that was the very reason they needed to investigate. They couldn't risk maybes and loose ends under these circumstances, which were becoming a bit too common for her liking.
Quietly, the duo slipped into the meeting (their ticket in was simply a flyer) and stayed in the back of the auditorium, which was being nice. If anything, the room resembled a lecture hall from Chloe's time, a half-circle lined with chairs descending with a podium in the middle of a raised platform.
Ms. Rolen stood next to the podium, talking enthusiastically to a peer with exaggerated hand movement. The assassins slid into a row, doing their best to not draw too much attention.
In front of Chloe was a deck of cards. Curiosity getting the better of her, the woman turned over two, brows furrowing at the two cards she drew― the hanged man and the world. Feeling eyes on her, Chloe shoved the cards back in the deck and shot an easy glare at Henry.
He simply smiled in return. "The meeting is starting."
"Joy."
★
Despite the fact that the meeting was only about an hour, Chloe nearly fell asleep about twice, to which Mr. Green nudged her awake not-too-gently. Feeling a childlike relief when Ms. Rolen called the end, the assassin barely registered the chuckle as she shot up from her seat and bounded down the stairs, pulling out a (fake) badge from her coat pocket.
"Ms. Rolen!" she called out, placing a tone of fake interest. Hearing footsteps fail to follow her, Chloe exaggerated her American accent for the act. "Could I have a word?"
If Andrea was caught off guard by the confrontation, she hid it well. "Of course!"
Chloe upped the act. Placing a hand over her chest, the assassin smiled widely. "I was just so fascinated by your presentation!"―she blatantly ignored the soft laugh from behind her― "You see, I've been traveling around lately for an article I'm writing for my paper back home. You mind if I ask a few questions?"
"Oh, not at all!" Andrea responded, obviously flattered. "I think I have writing materials..."
As the occultist pulled out a piece of paper and pencil, two cards similar to the ones Chloe was messing with earlier drifted to the ground. The woman caught sight of a card with nine sticks― wands, maybe?― and another card, different, with eight cups.
Andrea glanced at her, intrigued, maybe, and stuffed the cards back in the podium. "Here you go, Miss...?"
"―Device," Chloe smiled, not missing a beat. "Tell me, have there been any unsolved mysteries around here?"
"Well, of course," Andrea nodded. "No doubt you've looked into the Spring-Heeled Jack rumor that has spread recently, a load of nonsense if you ask me.
A lot of my newcomers have arrived with claims of a cloth capable of resurrection, but that is absurd. The only themes I tend to focus on― and encourage others to focus on, mind you― is energy."
"Energy?"
"Quite! Such as tarot cards, as you saw earlier, psychic reads, auras, the like."
Chloe wrote down the information she needed to. Not our target. "Thank you, Miss Rolen, you've been most helpful."
Their small party quickly exited the small lecture hall into the dreary afternoon, storm clouds rolling in with a promise of a quiet evening. "So, no dice."
"Quite," Henry nodded, starting to walk in the direction of their headquarters. "That being said, I take it you had no interest in your studies?"
She snorted. "Never liked the writing lines part of it. More of a hands-on type, really."
"Really? You seem like the person who loves sitting behind a desk."
Grinning, Chloe shook her head. "Never pegged you for the sarcasm type, Greenie."
Henry faltered, but shook his head and continued. "I found the lecture quite enlightening."
"Please," the woman scoffed, kicking a pebble. "Compared to the crap I see, that is practically elementary-level theatrics."
"And what is it you see that dampens your perspective?"
"Well, the whole battle―" the Assassin caught herself, stopping in her tracks. "Hold up. Uh-uh. This partnership is strictly professional. After I find the artifacts that were taken, I'm going home."
(She didn't bother to mention home was a couple of decades in the future, but technicalities.)
Mr. Green held his hands up in surrender. "I apologize; I simply mean to make conversation, that's all."
Chloe hummed, walking into the station where the train was waiting. Henry made an effort to not make eye contact or glance over, turning their pleasant walk into a suffocation interrogation. Rolling her eyes, the twenty-one-year-old pulled herself onto the train, shoving all thoughts of the people she left behind in the future.
She'd deal with it later.
★
holy shit i'm so sorry i took so long to get this out. kinda felt a little rushed to me, so i'll probably go back and edit later.
on top of act dates, getting a passport, college visits, and personal stuff, writers block had to rear its ugly head. legit took a small fic of far from home to get me back into the swing of things (no pun intended). speaking of, ffh was a great movie that gave me emotional trauma! highly recommend lmao.
also, i got this notification thingy that said this book was eligible for the wattys? idk what that entirely means, but i guess it's a good thing seeing as we hit 32k reads over the hiatus hOLY FU―
seriously guys. y'all are the best. legit wouldn't be where i am without all the support.
stay cool out there, guys.
peace,
aidan.