PoV: Argyra
"Look, all I'm saying is that there's no way Hussein's gay, I don't care what you
think you saw."
"I'm telling you" Lonnie says, voice tinny from the speaker, "he was making eyes at me, Yra. Eyes!"
In some sort of miracle, Gotham Academy canceled classes for the day thanks to a gas leak, so I've decided to have a lazy Friday. I've spent the afternoon just wandering through my old neighborhood, taking in the sights, chatting with the loser who's
somehow my best friend at school.
Sometimes, I like to think the Moirai have my back.
"Lots of people make eyes at you. It's not because they want to fuck you, it's because they think you're a communist freak that should be thrown in front of a re-constituted HUAC."
Lonnie laughs. "If you knew what the CIA does about Joe McCarthy's personal habits, you wouldn't think those two things are mutually exclusive."
"What! No, no way. I refuse to believe that fucking
McCarthy was gay."
"Hey, believe me or not, but he was."
"'Not', I'm very much the '
not' in that equation. You're the… I don't know, what's the gaydar version of paranoid."
"It's 'paranoid'. Have you
met us gay people?"
"True, true. But that just proves my point, Hussein's the most chill guy I know. Not paranoid in the slightest."
"And wouldn't such a guy be 'chill' about his own sexual identity, possibly leading to him wishing to explore it?"
"Lonnie, I've
literally had sex with him."
"And? He could be bi. You are. I might have a chance here, Yra!"
"You're dreaming, Lonster. And I'm a Kinsey 4,
maximum."
I frown. "Well, minimum, since it goes downwa- You know what I mean! I'm like 80% of a lesbian. I honestly only slept with him because he was having a
really bad day, and I kind of felt bad."
"I'm pretty sure that's not how it works. And also, pity sex? That's beneath you."
"It is
too how it works, and don't slut-shame me!"
"I'm not slut-shaming you, I'm… I don't know, slut-
accepting you. Telling you that you could be a
better slut."
"Well that's just misogynist."
"What, telling a woman she should be in control of her own sexuality is misogynist."
"Yeah, the sixth one this month" I hear from besides me, "a kid too, couldn't have been more than five years old."
The man speaking is short, thin, and balding. A barber, maybe his mid-60s.
It takes me a few seconds to recognize him — he shaved off that mustache of his — but when I did I can't help but smile. It's Vincenzo, who refuses to go by anything but "Jimmy", the owner of the barbershop down the street from St. Vitus's Home for Orphaned Children, a staple of the neighborhood for longer than I've been alive. Most of us kids knew him because he'd give us free water when the days got too hot, and would sometimes look the other way when we snatched from the tip jar.
"Hey, Lonnie" I say, "I actually just saw someone I knew from way back when. I'm gonna go say hi."
"Huh. Does he know about the whole… transition, thing?"
I almost choke. "W-Wha-"
"What?"
"If
he kno-
You know about that?"
"…Have we not established this?"
"No, we have not!"
"Huh, weird. But yeah, of course I know."
"What do you mean, "of course!?"
I can practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Yra, it's
me, I've had a backdoor into the school's servers since before I even went here. I noted some irregularities in your file, and looked up your birth certificate."
That… that actually makes a surprising amount of sense.
"When?"
"I don't know, the day after we met?"
"That seems excessively paranoid."
"I thought we already established the reasons for that."
I laugh. "So… you don't have any problems with it?"
"Yra I have been your friend for
multiple years. I'm pretty sure I would have said something by now if I did."
I smile, unable to stop the warm glow of affection in my chest.
"Aren't birth certificates supposed to be confidential?"
"Yra, it's
me."
I laugh. "Fair."
I look over at Jimmy, who's just finishing up. "Okay, I really do have to go. I won't get another opportunity to say hi to this guy for like twenty minutes."
"No problem. See ya, Yra."
"You're a good friend, Lonnie."
I hang up, still smiling from the interaction, and walk over to Jimmy, who's chatting with the mother of the young child he's just finished cutting the hair of.
"Yeah, be safe Franny, alright? I know little Tony likes to go out 'adventuring', but make sure to keep him inside until they find this creep. The Demon only hits lone targets, so the two of you should have nothing to worry about, but still, be on the lookout."
Demon? Alright, color me interested.
Shakily, the tall brunette clutches her son's close as he gets off the seat, knuckles almost going white as she grips the preschooler's shoulders. "Thank you, Jimmy. I just… fifteen is too young for someone to get caught up in this… this magical nonsense! And the poor boy lost his life for it."
Hello!
"Yeah" the short man grunts as he parcels out the woman's change, "you hear about this kinda shi-... er,
scusa Fran, this kinda
stuff in the newspapers, but you never think it could happen here, y'know? I'm actually
glad my Giuseppina's doin' that study abroad thing over in Latver-wherever now, or I'd be worried sick."
The mother nods, "It's just so awful, Jimmy. I can't even imagine who would do something like this…"
A minute or so later, their conversation has wrapped up. She pays, taking off down the street, gripping her child's arm in a vice while her head swivels back and forth.
"Hey, Jimmy" I say, sliding into his barber's chair once she leaves, "long time no see."
The barber's face lights up. "Ay, is that who I think it is?! Mr. Geeky Greeky himself! I haven't seen ya in years, Morgan, how are things?"
I hide a grimace at the reminder of my
unfortunately masculine youth. Guess he
hasn't heard the news yet.
Or maybe he has, and is being really shitty about that, but I'd like to think better of Jimmy. Besides, he probably wouldn't be so friendly if he really
was being bigoted.
"It's
Miss Geeky Greeky now, actually."
He looks me over. "…Huh, really?"
I raise an eyebrow.
He shrugs. "Eh, whatever. Kids these days…"
I smile. Same old Jimmy
The man eyes me up and down. "But shit, look atcha kid, ya all grown up! You gotta be what, six feet?"
"Yeah" I say, "five elven, actually. And just trim the back, please."
What? I can grow it back any time I want.
Probably.
He moves to start cutting. "You still living with Mrs. V? How's she doing?"
Anastasia Vasilopolous, one of my foster parents, an older woman from the small Greek neighborhood in Falcone territory I liked to hang around in as a kid. She's the woman that instilled in me my love for lamb souvlaki, and the half-ironic chauvinism for Greek culture I mainly use to mess with Artie.
She… she was a good woman. I probably would have grown closer to her, but, well…
"She passed a few months after I got there, actually. Bane's
suldati got at her."
I grimace. First Jade, then her… The Fates apparently decreed that I wouldn't get
any half-decent role models in my childhood.
"Ah, that's a shame. Always liked that one. Fuck Bane."
I nod. "
Fuck Bane."
I fucking
despise that evil, mass-murdering, rapist
parasite on the city. The sooner I can figure out the secrets of Venom and not even have to even
think about him, the better.
"So, what home are ya at now?"
"I actually got out four years ago."
He raises his eyebrows. "No shittin'?"
"Hey, would I lie to you?"
Jimmy just shoots me an unimpressed look.
I roll my eyes. "Damnit Jimmy, the thing with the ants only happened
one time. My fucking god, it's like I-"
[yEaH shlut, fuckin take it! Who's your fuckin' daddy! I'm gonna-]
I block out the ethereal communication while repressing a wince. I
have to learn to stop doing that.
Jimmy gives me a strange look, but eventually shakes it off and leans forward.
"Wait, you're what, eighteen, right? How tha fuck did ya manage that?"
I raise an eyebrow. "I mean… Waiting? That
is how time works."
He slaps my shoulder. "Y'know what I mean."
"Well" I say, leaning forward with a grin, "you know how I used to come here every day after school, lugging those massive college-level textbooks behind me."
"Wait, are you sayin'..."
"Yep!" I say, still unable to completely suppress the joy in my voice even after five years, "I got a scholarship! You're looking at a proud student of Gotham Academy, educated next to the kids of the rich and famous!"
Jimmy lets out a slow whistle. "Shit kid, I knew ya were smart, but
that smart? Gotham Academy can get ya just about anywhere, you got it made!"
His smile seems legitimately happy. "Good to know at least
one of you kids is gonna make it outta here."
We just sit in silence for the next minute or so, before I bring up the
very interesting tidbit I heard him mention earlier.
"Wait, Jimmy, you were saying something about some 'Demon'?"
The snipping momentarily stops, and I see the usually-jovial man grimace in the mirror. "Yeah… you know how two of our guys went missing last month?"
I nod. 'Our', here, of course, means 'Falcone'.
"Yeah, it's a real shit-show. For the past two months bodies have been showing up all over the place, stuffed into trash cans, or hidden in corners, or whatever. One of those new Bertinelli freaks has been killing them and tryin' to hide the evidence."
"I mean… I hate to break it to you, but that's not exactly unusual for this area."
He shakes his head. "Not like this. These ones are…
weird. You ever seen Indiana Jones?"
I nod.
"It's like that scene at the end, where they open up the… the whatever the thing was in the movie. They look dried out, like all the life's been sucked out of 'em."
I frown. That… yeah, that tracks with what I know of Skathites. Their magic is easy to use, and powerful, but in exchange it eats away at your soul. You offer it up to Trigon in bits and pieces, until you're nothing left but a mindless automaton totally devoted to his will, unable to feel anything but sadistic pleasure and slavish devotion.
There's a reason every magical community in the civilized universe hunts down Skathites like dogs whenever they pop up, and it's not because of some principled opposition to magic that drains the life of others.
Unfortunately, the quick, easy power of the Lord of Zinthos is too tempting a lure for many to ignore, and so hunting down Skath cults ends up being a game of Whack-a-Mole.
"Yeah, it's real fucked up" Jimmy says. "Like half of 'em have been kids, guy's a fuckin' monster."
He spits on the ground. "
Fuckin' Pulentuni."
"I've had my nephew Vinny and a few a' his friends hang around here, just to make sure I ain't out here all alone, y'know?"
I raise my eyebrows. "I'm shocked the
puffi haven't gotten all over this, yet."
At that, Jimmy's face somehow grows even tighter. "Carmine's-"
Huh, brave of him. Carmine doesn't take too well to people leaving off his honorific, so Jimmy either has some serious balls to do that in public, or knows him personally.
My money's on the latter.
"-tried to bring in Jim Gordon, because this is some cape shit if I've ever seen it, but Bane decided this is the exact right time to go on one of his rampages, so
lu granni puffu didn't have anyone to spare. Also, all done with the hair."
As I stand up from the chair, and absently hand Jimmy an amount of money that six-year-old me would have literally murdered for, my forehead creased in thought.
Supernaturally decomposed corpses, drained of all life, possibly collected to a gang newly starting to use blood magic?
My money's on the Bertinellis having been contacted by a concubus (I'd put money on a female member of the species, a succubus, just because they're more common) who's giving them access to some
serious blood magic. They've clearly been feasting on people in Falcone territory discreetly, it's the only thing that makes sense.
…
…
I might have done something nice for Zeus, because it is my
lucky fucking day!
Do you
know the type of shit I could do with a fresh concubus corpse? Those are some of the most potent ingredients for blood alchemy out there! Oh man, I'm going to have to buy some new texts to take advantage of this, maybe I can trade some of the parts?
Hmm… Not getting anything from my loom-senses on that one. Maybe something's missing?
Whatever, this corpse is going to make my
month!
…ok maybe dial down the excitement about 30% there, Dr. Lecter. People are still dead, in pretty horrible ways. I can practically hear my inner Artie lecturing me.
But still… Jinx may be a powerful luck mage, but I
know she's shit at tracking magic: she's never detected where my lab is, after all, even though I
know she has some suspicions that I'm camped out in Falcone territory. There's actually a good chance I might be able to find whoever this is before she does! Carmine won't care as long as the killer's stopped, which leaves me with one dead succubus to do
whatever I want with.
The
smart thing, the
Artemis thing to do, would be to hold back, wait, make a plan. Investigate the intelligence I have, make sure I don't run into either of the capes out searching.
But gods above I think I might literally explode if I actually have to wait to follow up on this. It's basically a
free succubus corpse, I am
not patient enough to wait around while it's just sitting out there, with every moment becoming more likely to be found by someone else!
After the barbershop, it only takes an hour or so to get to the most recent crime scene, and another hour to make my way to where they're storing the most recent victim and use some minor glamours to talk my way in to see the body, and…
…
Gods fucking DAMNIT!
Are you serious?
Are you fucking
serious!
I have to muffle my scream of frustration in the arm of the coroner's robes I'm "borrowing".
This killer
definitely isn't a concubus. I've seen their victims, and this is nothing like them. The aetheric patterns show it's definitely something magic, but more of the deliberate, ritual variety than a demonic feasting.
Even worse, something's blocking my scrying, I can't trace the bodies back to their killer, they're — or let's be honest, probably "he", statistically — is under some sort of ward. Even when I spend the next two hours divining out all the locations of the previous bodies, the actual perpetrator manages to elude my searches.
Ugh.
Of
course I'm going to have to do this the hard way.
AN: "Jimmy the Barber" is actually my irl great-grandfather, who gave me my first haircut. He was Sicilian, and cut the hair of multiple members of the mob in New York City.
Also, the killer (the villain for Arc 1) has already introduced within this fic, at some point before this chapter! They're a canonical DC character too, albeit my own spin on them. Anyone who can correctly guess it gets to name a background character.
Btw, updated: I changed Lonnie and Rose's nickname for Argyra from "Argie" to "Yra".
As always, discussion keeps me motivated, so please let me know what you think. I also talk about story stuff and get writing feedback on
my channel in the Gaylor Convention Center.
