The Valley

we were born in the valley

Tommy wasn't quite content with everything in his life. Now he was doing great, everything was amazing considering what happened a few months ago. He had a new home, with people who cared about him and even supported his hobby! He was adopted, something that he thought was just a stupid dream not to long ago, and his brothers forged through pain and struggle were now legally his brothers.

But yet, that desire for recognition, for fame and glory, it hung just out of reach. So Tommy decided to scratch that itch. So, Tommy went to the Pit.

He wasn't supposed to go to the Pit, since the people who had continuously been threatening Tommy and his group, Bench Trio, hadn't been found but he didn't care. He'd seen a paper on Phil's desk, despite the fact that he wasn't allowed to go through Phil's office, one of the few rules that had been laid down. That paper spoke of someone named Monarch, and Tommy was interested.

So, naturally, he donned his Pit attire, grabbed his mask, and took the bus to the Pit. He presented his card to the bouncer upstairs and took the elevator down to the Pit.

He slid up to the bartender, a happy grin somewhat visible behind his face. The man looked at him with a curious look.

"Your keepers aren't here." He commented gruffly, setting down the glass he was cleaning. "I assume the usual?"

"Nope!" Tommy said. "I'm looking for someone called Monarch, figured you'd know him?" The man visibly froze, but Tommy kept staring at him.

"Well clearly you have a death wish. But I can't stop you, so here." He dug around and produced a white card with something raised on it, probably brail or something. "10th lounge, say that you're a friend of the Angel, got it kid? And be careful." He grumbled. Tommy took it, wondering who the Angel was, but ran towards the private elevator. He dropped in the keycard and rode it down to the second floor, bubbling with excitement. This was his chance.

He walked carefully down the hallway and knocked twice on the door of the tenth lounge before taking a step back, waiting. Eventually, a short woman with shoulder-length hibiscus colored hair answered, giving him a strange look behind her black mask with golden lining around the edges and eyeholes.

"Hello, I'm Theseus. I'm a friend of the Angel." Some sort of recognition flashed in her eyes and she ushered him in.

The lounge was very different to the other lounge he had been in, which was the Sleepy Bois. But if you payed enough, you could get a permanent lounge. There was a large, throne like, very comfy looking loveseat with a gilded coffee table, two red chairs facing the loveseat. A man, at least Tommy guessed, though it was hard, was resting his feet up on the coffee table. Tall platform boots adorned them and there was a golden crown upon his head. Instead of a mask, he had very dark sunglasses, covering the top half of his face. Odd person.

"Hello Theseus, friend of the Angel. I am Nemesis, this is Monarch." The woman spoke, sitting down beside Monarch. She gestured for him to sit down in one of the chairs, to which he obliged.

"I assume you know what kind of work we do?" Monarch said in a deep voice. Tommy shook his head and Nemesis gave Monarch a look.

"We can't tell him if he doesn't know!" She hissed quietly.

"He has spirit, Nemesis. And it's not like what we do is some horrible secret, so what if one person knows? He's a friend of the Angel, apparently." Monarch said, a smile crossing their lips.

"Fine, but I hope you know that you are an idiot." Monarch just shrugged, planting his feet on the ground and leaning his elbows on his knees.

"We deal in assassinations, Theseus. People pay us enough and we approve of the target, we send out people to do the deed. You get a cut of the money." Tommy's eyes flashed. Assassinations? He couldn't imagine killing people.