Where is Your Rider?

Were you there to bedevil and beguile

Tommy was sat down at their rickety table across from Ranboo and to the left of Tubbo. The tension was palpable as the clock ticked behind him.

"So that's the plan. Ranboo confirmed it, there's no other path to go other than to the museum." Tommy nodded, sighing.

"I'm gonna go to the Pit tonight, see if I can get any information." Tommy decided. Normally, this would've brought some sort of protest, but he was going into the lion's den. He could afford to go there for one more night.

When it was 7:30 pm on the dot, Tommy pulled on his clothes, all black as customary with the Pit. A mask in his pocket to hide his identity, that covered his eyes and the left side of his face. Very masquerade. If anyone knew that he was just a teenager he'd be murdered. Probably. The Pit wasn't for the feint of heart, probably why he was the only one out of his team who went to the Pit.

He took a cab downtown towards where the Pit was located and entered the bar. He walked up to the bartender, who gave him an odd look.

He gave him a card, simple white hard plastic with Tommy's face printed into it with black lettering with his codename, Theseus, the date of expiration and a unique code. The bartender looked it over before nodding.

"Second bathroom door. Be careful." He said in a deep, gruff voice. Tommy nodded, hiding his smile on his face. He glanced around, making sure no one was around as he walked down the hallway to the bathroom and slid in the card. The door opened slightly and Tommy quickly closed it. Dropping the key card into the slot disguised as one of those small wall trash cans. The elevator door opened and Tommy quickly hopped in. He put on his mask, firmly tying it behind the back of his head.

The room he entered was lit in dark green, a few people milling about. Further towards the back was where the more villainous vigilantes hung out, so Tommy stayed near the front. Despite the black mask that covered the top half of his face, he stayed away from there just incase there was a master detective who found out he was a kid.

He walked up to the bar, a smile on his face.

"I'll have a coke, good sir." Tommy said, slightly sarcastic. The bartender just rolled his eyes and slid over a can, and Tommy picked it up with far too much enthusiasm.

"Be careful, kid."

"I'm not a fucking kid." Tommy muttered. This had been their routine, Tommy would order his usual soda, get called a kid and the insults could flow for quite a while. But instead, he headed over to one of the couches. He needed to get intel.

"Pretty sure the next place we need to hit is the warehouse." A person behind him said. "There could be shit on that computer that we need to get to." Another person sighed.

"I'm pretty sure that we should go someplace else. It's a dead end." The voice muttered, low and monotone. Tommy looked over his shoulder to get a better look at these people.

There was a bread basket and small plate of pastries shared between the three, which made his stomach grumble. But he didn't have the money for food, and he only got one drink on the house per visit.

And he was noticed. One of the members, someone with blonde hair hanging a bit past his chin locked eyes with him, though it was hard to tell behind the deep black mask with the faintest traces of green. The person behind him, with long pinkish hair looked up and narrowed his eyes at Tommy.

"Who the hell are you." Tommy swallowed a squeak, tugging at his bangs. He looked at his hands bashfully, somewhat afraid to answer.

"We're waiting." The pink one asked again, or more so demanded.