Below The Surface - A Lackadaisy Fanfiction

Reminisce

"Oh my good God." Mordecai whispered.

"That's sickening..." Ivy grimaced.

"Who on earth—" Freckle's brows furrowed, tail fluffing up. He turned away to no longer look at the body, and Serafine had gently ushered him away from the scene. A look of worry flashed.

"Dis ain't okay: we need to figure out what's happenin', an' fast." She commented.

He, and the rest of the group, got back to the Little Daisy Café after a while. Now, they were standing in the alleyway, noticing a dead patron, again. Angel was gutted violently, blood and cartilage splattered on the pavements.

"Absolutely vile." Mordecai kept his voice lowered.

"Dis is what tings have gone to?" Nico raised his brows.

"Damning, I know." Mordecai stepped over cartilage, grimacing. "Hence why we should take—" His heel dug into something squishy, and he cringed, eyes going wide. His mind raced as to what he could've possibly stepped on, and he looked down to notice a severed arm. Instantly, his face paled and he stepped away. He'll have to throw away those shoes now: no amount of cleaning will scrub away that awful feeling and noise. Just recalling it made his stomach twist into knots.

"...you doin' okay there?" Rocky noticed Mordecai's paled face.

"Chér, you look sick. Do you tink you should, I dunno...step away?" Nico chimed in.

"I am not one to step away from such moments." Mordecai quipped, though he was very much on edge.

"We won' judge you none. Jus' step away, an' you can recoup." Serafine told him. "De petit feu did dat."

"How is he, by the way?" Ivy stepped over anything and everything nasty, rushing to the left to find where Freckle was. Nico followed out of instinct, and Serafine passed Mordecai slowly, only squeezing his shoulder gently for a sense of comfort. She headed towards the rest of the group.

"...this isn't good." Rocky held his arms. He looked dead straight at the body—pun not intended.

"Far from it, Roark." Mordecai lowered his voice. "Ugh, this is horrendous. " He ran his hand through his hair.

"...after a bit, maybe I could possibly give you a little rhapsody? G Minor? For reassurance and comfort?"

"You sounded too hopeful there, Roark."

"You know you enjoyed it back in the old days~" Rocky elbowed him while Mordecai adjusted his cufflinks. Mordecai flinched slightly, fumbling the cufflinks in his hand and scrambling to keep it from falling. He didn't want to go to prison just because of lost cufflinks found by the police.

"Watch it." He warned, pupils slitting as Rocky held his hands up. Mordecai calmed down shortly after that, his shoulders dropping, and he sighed. "...enough with the old times. They only bring back anguish in most ways."

"You saying that means something." Rocky moved around to Mordecai's right.

"Indeed." Mordecai clicked his cufflinks into place, his usually sharp glare dulling.

"...where had we gone wrong?" Rocky whispered. Mordecai flinched again, then whipped his head to face him. He stared at him for what seemed to be eternity, and watched those blue eyes shine with such uncertainty and hurt.

"...I haven't a clue what you mean—" He began when Rocky gripped his wrists gently.

"Look at me," Rocky whispered, "we were inseparable, what went wrong for us to split? Why did you leave , if not for Atlas' death?"