Heat was beating down on her like a boxer, sweat making her eyeshadow bleed as she leaned against against a streetlight, not yet alive as the sun set in the distance. It was dawn when she left, wasn’t it? An exhausted murmur preceded a defeated chuckle, rubbing her legs which were begging to rest in her bed just across the street, both likely to be two giant blisters under her socks, ready to peel off the moment she removed the cloth.

The thought made Annabelle shutter, shifting under the streetlight, finally illuminating and casting her into a soft spotlight. Slowly, her worn eyes gazed behind her at the pole, locking on the sheet of paper she’d taped to it.



Just below the the child’s name was a picture of a little girl with a glowing, toothy smile, shoulders risen and implying her cropped out arms were outstretched before the scene behind her. In the original photo, it looked to be a lovely castle, rich green ivy climbing up it’s stone walls with majestic golden flags draping out of the windows, each with the capricorn symbol on them. Having focused more on the lost girl, however, only a patch of white bricks were visible behind her. Her deep brown hair looked black in the grayscale, and there was no way of knowing that her eyes were a gentle blue without any color. Annabelle made a mental note to add the information with the next batch she’d print. She wished she could afford color, but between the paper and tape, she’d already dropped about eighty dollars, the later nearly bare while the former was down to half, only three, four hundred remaining.

Finally having caught her breath, she arose to her aching feet, rolling her shoulders under the backpack carrying the remainder of her supplies, briskly walking home to her motel. It wasn’t long before she reached the door and pushed through, a rush of cool air relaxing her muscles before her gaze met those of the woman behind the desk, tensing the moment she saw she was in nothing but a bathrobe. Still twirling her winter cap, it took the young woman a moment to notice Annabelle’s return, but when their eyes met, the 20 year old beamed.

“You’re back!” Still locked on the lack of clothes, Annabelle failed to respond. “How was the marathon?”

“Exhausting,” She gave an uneasy smile to the woman as she slid the cap back over her bald scalp, “But it felt good, thanks.” The grin became a little more sincere as she stepped deeper into the motel, finding it more less as she left it. It felt wrong, but somehow she always envisioned finding something horrible whenever she left it to one of the call girls who frequented it. “I half expected Candi to still be behind the desk.”

“She actually had a 9:30 appointment-” Sugar said that exactly like Candice was a doctor or something, “-And I’m still waiting on the dryer anyway.” She paused a moment, knuckles tapping the desk as she thought. “Oh! Serif was looking for you.”

“He’s- he’s awake?”

“Mhm,” The escort cast a smile, “He was a little groggy and had to lean on the wall when he walked, but yeah, up and adam! I helped him up to the roof about a half hour ago; I think he likes it up there.”

“He misses his sky,” Annabelle nodded, glancing up the ceiling, “We normally start the day with a cup of coffee at about, 5, 5:30.”

“That isn’t his first cup,” Sugar gave a small grin before following Lee’s green eyes, “If I’ve got an overnight, I almost always run into him up there close to 3, mug in hand.” She chuckled. “I think it’s just that he refuses to adjust to our timezone.”

“He refuses to adjust to anything,” Shaking her head, Annabelle looked to the stairwell, “Your clothes still have another ten minutes or so?”

“They have as much time as you need.”

“Thanks Blair.” After moving a few paces, she glanced back at the call girl. “Hey uh, I’m think about rebranding. Maybe something clever like what Knight Inn or Sleep Inn does?” She scratched the back of her neck. “...Do you think Come Inn is taken?”

Valentine’s hands clapped as she couldn’t get them over her mouth fast enough, quick snort sneaking out with her scoff. “Oh my God, that’s amazing!” Reopening her eyes, she was met with a dumbfounded stare. Blinking, it took a few moments to catch on. “Oh.”

In another heartbeat they were on the same page. “Oh.”

“Yeah, no, don’t go with that.”

“...Yeah…”

Awkwardly, Annabelle, flushing to match her hair, did a half wave before departing towards the stairway, ascending towards the roof. The minor embaressment sped her feet, quickly making it to the top level and pushing through the door, the neon glow of her sign illuminating the silhouette of her resident gladiator. At the sound, he craned his neck, a shimmer tracing the stitches lining its side while his gentle smile was barely visible in the sunset.

“It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you out of bed.”

She gave a small one back, but it soon faded as she joined him by the edge. It was true that his ink helped him blend into the night, but he wasn’t exactly a shadow until then, even in his dark cloth.

“What are you doing up here?”

“I like to feel the weather.”

“In the open, I mean.” Annabelle’s arms crossed, “Someone just shot at you, Serif. What are you thinking?”

“That he missed.” Returning his icy eyes forward, he leaned against the edge, watching the city life below, “And because he did, he has bigger problems than me to worry about.”

“If you’re thinking of the RHG, they blame you more than the shooter for having to cancel their show, considering all the chaos you keep causing. Between the refunds for the tickets, cost to vendors, food waste, and losing their non-refundable TV time slot, they quoted me a net loss of some 400 million.” She chuckled uneasily, “God they hate you. I wouldn’t be surprised if they funded the next attack.” She paused before suddenly grabbing his arm. “Seriously though, get away from there.”

Only for her, he complied, taking a few small steps back before taking a seat. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you.”

“Well you’re pretty good at it.” Shaking her head, she let out a sigh, “But that’s not what you wanted to talk to me about, is it?”

“No.” Taping the pavement, their eyes met. “I saw my profile.”

“You- That’s great!” She didn’t mean to wrap her arms around him, but after so long, even such a minor victory felt like a miracle. The moment she caught herself however, she shoved off him with a cough, scratching the back of her neck. “Did it tell you anything?”

“Difinitively? Not much,” Serif confessed, “But at the very least, someone involved had access to my public record, which is in a cardboard box in New Salem, handwritten in ink.” He took a moment to think. “Now, I know it was reviewed when I was selected for the journey, but that box doesn’t leave the police station, my people even made the upper echelon of Capricorn sail over when they asked to review it, and there was a lot to memorize.” His arms crossed. “But there were also personal details on there that wouldn’t be recorded. Personal habits, hobbies, my pet peeves… The oddest bit was…”

His voice trailed off, trying to make sense of the situation as Annabelle waited patiently, placing her hand on his leg as the seconds dragged on.

“...There were things that they should’ve included, but didn’t... Pitt fights were a serious problem for a few years. People would trap two vicious animals, starve them, and then throw them in the same hole in the dirt, and people would bet on the winner, while other groups would make it their mission to find and break the cages before the fights began. I was one of the later, but the vigilantism didn’t get anyone caught, it only ever stalled the operation, and the groups -our groups- all but disbanded when a kid was mauled by a bear he freed.” His knuckles began rapping on the concrete, “A few days later, someone came across a pitt fight in progress and shot at the gamblers from deeper in the woods. No one died from the gunshots... someone fell in the hole and was eaten alive. I was with my best friend at the time, but the fact that I was brought to the station as a suspect did make it to my record.”

His eyes closed, slowly leaning back. “My time as a corrections officer was largely glazed over as well, as was my transfer to The Six-Six, whereas getting my opal as an honor is specifically stated, and it confirmed that I worked on Olivia’s protective detail. It doesn’t make sense…”

Staring at him, an uneasy frown found Annabelle. If he worked in a jail, it made sense that he’d could end up a bit more callous and take more offense to the rampant crime, but it was still hardly the resume she’d expect for bodyguard. Could The Six-Six be something more military? “Maybe they were giving you a chance?”

“But why take the risk?” He shook his head. “This is either specifically about me and it’ll all a taunt, or I have nothing to do with it and they’re letting me walk away.”

“They just shot at you.”

“If that was them, I don’t think they would have missed.”

Annabelle paused, bringing a palm to her face. “Who then?”

“A one-handed hunter, if I had to guess. Candi left close to 9:00 to meet with a security officer at the arena. If all goes well, she’ll talk him into letting her see the footage.”

“‘Talking’. Yeah, that’s what she does with her mouth to men.” Annabelle pinched the bridge of her nose before laying down next to the two-handed hunter. “Did your file tell you anything concrete?”

“I think I have to find a metamorph.” His eye cracked, seeing her facing him on her side, “Whoever posed as me didn’t just look like me. He had my bone structure, my face, my eyes... Violet’s art was the only thing he got wrong, but even there, he was close.”

Hesitantly, Annabelle nodded. “So you think that’s who took Olivia?”

“If he did, he’s likely in hiding.”

“Great...” The woman let out a long sigh before shutting her eyes and rolling onto her back. “So, to be clear, we’re looking for someone who could be anyone, while someone else, with a gun, is looking for you. Hope my flyers pan out, because we seem pretty fucked otherwise.”

“Your what?”

Slowly, she looked back at him. “Look, Serif, I know you hate it here, and given what’s happened to you, I get why, but you can’t do this alone.”

“I’m not doing this alone.”

For a moment, neither made a sound.

“If I ever get home, it’s because of you. I never gave you a reason to trust me, and despite all the trouble I’ve caused you, you’ve always stuck by my side. You listen to me when I’m thinking out loud and you’re there for me when I break. You’ve provided me with somewhere safe to rest, somewhere to think, and have taken me everywhere I needed to go. You defend me when everything around me says you should run from me. You’ve given me the benefit of the doubt more times than I ever could, and every time I think I’m going to die, I either wake up to your green eyes, or in the bed you tucked me into. You, for some reason, refuse to give up on me, even when things seem hopeless.”

“Then trust me when I say there are more people like me out there,” She gave him a gentle smile, “People who would want to help if they knew, if they trusted you. You just have to show them that you’re a good man, because most people suspect the opposite.” Her palm found his shoulder. “Here’s who you have right now: You have me, Candi and Sugar, and what that is, is a start, with a lot of doubled up skill sets. Fucking, blackmail and transportation, mostly. You need fighters and people who know the deeper underbelly of this place and can navigate it. You need a doctor and detectives. There’s a saying here, that it takes a village to raise a child, but I’d bet a city could find one. They just need to look together.”

“What do you suggest?”

“That while you look for Olivia, shapeshifters and crippled gunmen, you help people.” She shrugged. “That’s it. Well, that, and maybe don’t get hospitalized in the meantime.” She gave him a joking grin. “Ya know, it’s a shame we can’t scrub your ink off, no one would r-” The word cut off as suddenly a gunshot, Lee’s blinking eyes drifting as her brow furrowed.

“...Annabelle?”

“...You’re about to hate wearing makeup.”