The Guild of the Forsaken

CHAPTER 33 - The Old Man Is Snoring

She's Not There - Zombies

October 10th 2024

GOTHAM CITY

"Its raining, Its pouring,

The old man is snoring,

He went to bed,

And he bumped his head,

And couldn't get up in the morning."

Marinette sings the nursery rhyme softly under her breath while looking out onto the wet streets of Gotham.

Raindrops fly down the windows racing one another to reach an untimely death. A young toddler perched on a window stool babbles excitedly to their parents about which droplet will win a metaphorical race.

Smiling at the child's look of wonder Marinette's mind drifts back to the reason her mood is so positive on this arguably dreary day.

It had begun with a phone call.

Something so simple yet for Marinette it represented the first bricks in what could be an achingly dangerous road. Rubbing the tender spot on her neck where a few yellow markings still lay Marinette reflects on her plans for the day and how they were made.

The call that took place last week, had come late and unexpectedly. Marinette was sure it would like him longer to call, that's if he would at all. They had spoken about everything and yet also nothing. It was a peaceful few hours where they simply caught up on life.

Of course, delicately crafted white lies dripped from both of their silver tongues, but many of their whispered words held insurmountable truths.

Damian had remained his stoic self on the call, though the subtle softness in his tone and wording warmed Marinettes crooked soul nonetheless. They had made plans to meet outside of the café. Well, Marinette had been the one to suggest the idea dropping hints she hoped he would catch up on. Thankfully she knew Damian and therefore realised that a more direct approach would be better.

And it was.

She said that she would organise the destination and the time. In fact Marinette had booked this particular activity weeks ago with full intentions to drag Luka along or coheres Damian into going, after all the nature of it suited her Angel more.

Rapping her fingers on the counter Marinette huffs a breath causing a stray pink curl to fly in the air before falling back down onto her freckled forehead. The café was quiet at this hour, just the most regular customers hauled themselves inside filing to their normal tables.

The rain both drove away and brought in customers. Those already in the comfort of their own homes dared not leave their safe havens. Whereas those brave enough to venture the streets soon came to the dull conclusion that shelter was a dire need. For many the café was the perfect spot.

Many customers had become familiar with her cheery demeanour and pink hair. As nice as it was to have people's well-wishes and smiles directed at her it was also tiring. It took a toll pretending to be happy 24/7. The booze helped but it would only go so far, she couldn't exactly whitey at her work nor be completely hammered. Damian's presence has definitely aided in keeping her mood elevated.

He seems to never go a day without entering the café. The though brings an easy smile to her face.

Eyes dart back and forth from the clock to the door as Marinette awaits Damian's arrival. Vaguely she can hear Luka's teasing voice as he compares her to a child waiting for Santa. Lazily turning her head Marinette levels him with a glare and sticks her middle finger up at him.