#well that's enough rambles peace and love on planet earth ❤️

[nevada-wrytes]

Chapter 5 - A Black Heart Laced with Neon Green Ribbons

Content Warnings: mentions of violence, cemeteries, and death

Link to the previous chapter and link to the next chapter

Part Two: Curses

There was only so long one could ignore a growing pile of “jobs” and “responsibilities” and “duties” before someone came in and pushed the stack over.

Raven was met with such a situation as he powered on the obsidian tablet that most citizens of the Underneath used to communicate (because cell phones, as they say, were for losers). Immediately, message upon message began popping up, most from annoyed clients who demanded a discount for late services. He ignored them all, even some warbled garbage sent by an unknown sender, but stopped when he got to one name in bold.

Boss (derogatory): Come see me.

A time and place were not specified, yet Raven knew exactly what it meant. He had no desire to go back to the Underworld, much less the City of the Dead, and he definitely did not want to meet with him.

With an weary sigh, Raven took a sip of his drink, finding comfort in the puffs of steam that curled out of the teacup.

Usually, cafés were uncomfortable places filled with too much noise and movement, but this one was nice. It was owned by an old friend, although she wouldn’t like to be called that, who took pride in preserving the ancient space as it had been a hundred years ago in the midst of the Roaring Twenties.

Raven liked the effect that the dark furniture and dim lighting cast, it felt both mysterious, edgy, and easy to disappear in. Among the swamping leather sofas and bursting bookshelves, he was just an ordinary guy enjoying a cup of tea. Maybe he’d pick up a book or put on a record. Life was simple, it didn't matter that Dahlia was dead. It didn’t matter that she was the fourth girl (along with two other guys) who’d met an untimely demise all because they decided to fall in love with the wrong person. Him.

Maybe it is a curse. Maybe he accidentally pissed off some deity and is unknowingly passing the misfortune on to some poor mortals. The fortune teller from before did seem especially ire with him...

Whatever. Now was not the time to genuflect. The glowing red text on the obsidian tablet in his lap provided an excellent distraction.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he muttered to the air as he stood up and dusted himself off. He stuck a wad of cash under his used saucer and turned to leave.

And was met with a very dirty, very prickly, broom to the face.

"Heyyyyyyyyy Margie," he casually said, emphasizing the nine Y’s at the end of ‘hey’ to prove his casualness.

The woman behind the broom, an older lady that looked like she was straight out of a boxing match, stared him down. She was taller than him, larger than him, and had biceps that looked like they bench pressed willowy teenage boys just like him.

If it wasn’t for the affectionate tilt of her mouth and the crow’s feet around her eyes she would have given even him a scare.

“Get the hell out of my café you rat." Although there was no real anger behind her words, Raven put his hands up, and backed away slowly.

“I mean no harm, Margi— I’m just stopping by— love what you’ve done with the place by the way.”

“Hmp.” Margi folded her huge biceps over her chest. “Am I s’posed to assume all of that’s true?”

“Ughhhhhh..”

Raven needed a way out of this conversation that contained the least amount of fists to his face. Luckily, Margi saved him the trouble of formulating some brain dead reply.

“What do you want.” A statement, not a question. “You know I don’t serve any criminals no more.”

Raven tried a laugh fit for a guilty man. “Criminal? Who— me? Pfftt..”

Margi gave him a Look.

“WELL ANYWAYS,” he began, as if being louder would erase the awkwardness of the subject, “ignore the details— do you, by any chance, still exchange demonic currency?”

៴

Like every other heartbroken teen, Raven had spent the past few days wallowing into tubs of lemon sorbet and Tinkerbell reruns. He didn’t actually cry, but just the thought of it was enough to make even the most waterproof mascara run.

However, just like any coming of age film, there has to be a point where enough is enough, where maybe the best friend comes in to pull the protagonist out of their moping by the hair and gets them to snap out of it. Unfortunately, Raven has to be his own best friend in this case, and pulling yourself together was much more difficult alone.

Regardless of if he enjoyed it or not, there was work that needed to be done, so he slapped on some kick-ass eyeliner and put on some kick-ass boots to go thlunking through the cemetery— because that was a normal thing to do.

Raven had a complicated relationship with cemeteries. He appreciated the lengths people would go to honor their loved ones, maintaining graves even generations later when there was no one left alive to remember the kind of person the body in the ground used to be, but grave sites also brought about a sort of stillness within him that he absolutely hated.

Even the air was calm, despite it being night and definitely much creepier when the corroded angel statues looked at you with weeping eyes. He felt like he could breathe again, for the first time since— Mother knows how long.

And if he could stay and recharge for hours, Raven felt, with no doubt, he would have enough will to charge into Hell itself and bring back Dahlia, and Rose, and Martin, and River…

Maybe he hated cemeteries because they reminded him of the people he lost. If he looked around, how many of the graves were there because of him?

His chunky boots slammed into the hard packed earth as he walked, a comforting thump in the silence. It had stopped raining ages ago, but the grass was still wet and now that the coolness of the night set in, condensation seemed to hang in the air like wet laundry strung out to dry.

The place was silent, not a rustle of wind or chirp from a cricket to break it up. That was why the voice boomed across the mossy gravestones like an uppercut.

"Oh my my! Don't we have a special guest here tonight!"

A young girl appeared out of the fog as if xe was a hallucination. She sat on top of a giant mausoleum in the center of the cemetery, swinging xer stockinged legs freely. They made hollow thumps when they hit the stone, giving the impression she was moreso a wooden doll come to life rather than a person.

And she did look like a doll, with a tiny figure and ruffled dress consisting of only the colors black and neon green. However, what xe lacked in intimidation factor, xe made up for by carrying a huge metal club that was also swinging at her feet.

Raven stepped closer, near enough to see her delicately painted face.

"Hello, Arcane. Still on gate duty I see."

The girl opened her mouth in what could have been a grin, if someone learned how to smile by listening to instructions of how to move your face muscles rather than seeing the real thing happen in person. Xer teeth were black as coal, and so was her tongue.

"Oh you would like that, wouldn’t you~” She started in a sing-songy voice, but then, after Raven raised a brow, xe cleared her throat, cheeks flushing.

“Nah, I'm just filling in for this Jack kid. Heard you were coming back and just couldn't wait to see ya."

She pushed off the building and dropped down next to him. Or.. not quite right next to him, because she was floating in the air a short, safe distance off, something that requires way too much energy just to remain on eye level with him.

Raven snorted, spirits and their vanities, and tossed her a sack of newly acquired gold.

Arcane snatched the gold out of the air before he had so much of a chance to blink, and began counting the coins. The next few moments were silent, other than the sharp click of metal being dropped back into the bag.

Although Raven really hated his job, one of the few benefits was learning how to read people— and finding a way to use that to his advantage.

Arcane was a wrathful entity— a spirit given flesh with the promises of cold revenge— or something else along those lines. What that meant was she had a passion, but unfortunately xe also had a big, big contract with some Guardian of Death in the way of that passion. So, the sooner she paid off xer debt, the faster she would be freed into the world to wreck as much havoc or despair as she so pleased.

And that, friends, is a very good bargaining chip.

“How many do you have patrolling the perimeter?” In less than a moment Raven had reclaimed her spot on top of a mausoleum as if it were his throne, forcing Arcane to turn quickly if xe didn’t want xer back to him. She looked stricken.

“What? How did you- how did you know that?” The wobble in her voice betrayed her as she clutched the sack of money to her chest like a shield.

Raven tilted his head. “You think I wouldn’t know? Come out, come out, wherever you are, demons.”

A shadow condensed in the corner, spitting out a humanoid beanpole who began frantically signing to Raven, some stuff about begging for mercy which was complete overkill since it’s not like he would actually kill any of them.

“Ah, just Neroli? I was expecting a bigger army for my visit.” He began signing too, now that he needed them both present in the conversation.

Raven didn’t know much about Neroli other than the fact he was some sort of low-tier entity like Arcane, but he did know that the two of them together had a special affinity that he so desperately needed.

"I want a quiet entrance into the Underneath, one that doesn’t appear on any radars, and I know you two can do it. I’m willing to pay handsomely, by the way.”

Arcane sniffed at the ‘handsomely’ part. Xe’d already counted the money and knew it was jack shit compared to what others would pay. That's why Raven was very much counting on his fear factor to get him what he wanted.

"Can't you already portal directly into the City-" Arcane began the accusation with an irritating huff, but was cut off by a warning nudge from Neroli.

The boy looked ready to lay his life on the line for Raven, probably as a thank you for not ending it so soon. (Again, Raven wasn’t going to, he needed them both alive, or, in whatever in-between state they were in currently.)

"Will you open the gate or not?" He forced his voice to sound terribly bored with this conversation, regardless if his entire body was screaming for them to say yes. If he wanted things to go smoothly in the City of the Dead he needed to get in (and hopefully out) quick.

Luckily, neither of them sensed the urgency, and after a private conversation, Arcane begrudgingly agreed.

"Fine, we will. But don’t spread the word that we can be bought for cheap, ya hear?"

Raven agreed with a polite smile, and once the deal was brokered, they all eased back into comfortable familiarity. Arcane switched back to her haughty personality and Neroli poked fun at xer whenever he got the chance. Raven, too, joined them as if they were old friends, enough to keep everyone laughing and chipper until he was through the gateway and in the bleak gray lands of the Underneath.

Tag list: @thebonecarver @victorfrankingstein @confused-as-all-hell @iambecomeyourvillain @brekkercookie @fallen-from-olympus @purpl-cryptid @reyyya @thecurlychameleon @naz-yalensky @thesexypanda-boo @kazoo-the-demjin @twelve-kinds-of-trouble @crime-mastergogo