Partners × In × Crime

Weston City

- - - WESTON CITY // NOVEMBER 30TH - - -

The cityscape of Weston City is bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun, casting long and ominous shadows that dance on the wet pavement.

Xavia Cyprus stands tall, despite his body screaming in pain. He clutches at his wounded shoulder that drips blood onto the asphalt beneath him. It's a deep gash, not fatal by any means but painful enough to warrant concern. His white hair clings to his forehead, slick with sweat, while he pants heavily from exhaustion and effort.

His opponent lays motionless on the ground before him; unconscious or dead, Xavia doesn't care for specifics. All that matters is victory; survival by any means necessary.

Drawing in a ragged breath, he huffs out through gritted teeth. His pain is secondary, the mission always taking precedence. Swaying slightly on unsteady feet, he pushes past his discomfort with grim determination and steels himself for the task at hand.

He makes his way carefully over to where the object of interest lays, an ornate dagger his employer, Aurelius Van Helsing, had tasked him to retrieve from their now incapacitated opponent. Every step causes sharp pain to shoot up his arm, but he bites down hard on his lip and carries on.

Bending down is another ordeal altogether as it feels like gravity itself is against him, pulling at his injured shoulder painfully. However, once he finally manages to get a grip around that damn blade's decorated hilt, relief washes over him.

Xavia grunts, holding the dagger in one hand and his shoulder with the other. He staggers towards the brick wall of the alleyway behind him, the world tilting ominously around him as he moves.

He lets out a pained sigh as his back meets the rough surface of the bricks, feeling their coldness seep through his jacket. He slides down slowly until he's sitting on the wet pavement, grimacing at every jolt of pain that radiates from his wound.

His head falls back against it with a thud and he closes his eyes momentarily in an effort to regather his energy. This isn't Xavia's first brush with danger nor his first time nursing an injury alone in the shadows. Life had dealt him a hand that was never easy.

He learned early on that people often failed you when you needed them most. The world was harsh, and survival meant relying only on yourself. It made him strong, hardened him in ways few could understand.

Sitting there against the cold brick wall of an alleyway, grasping at his bleeding shoulder, it all seems like just another day in his brutal and unyielding life. But he wouldn't have it any other way. This solitude feels familiar, almost comforting.

Xavia tilts his head to gaze up at the sky. The dying light of day paints a breathtaking canvas overhead, vibrant streaks of red, orange, and purple bleeding into each other. A sunset has never looked so beautiful to him before.

The deep purples hold his attention. It's an alluring hue that somehow seems distinct from everything else around him. He can almost forget about the throbbing pain in his shoulder as he loses himself in its depths.

He knows he'll have to call for backup soon enough. But for now, just for a fleeting moment longer, Xavia allows himself to be swallowed by the dimming evening sky above him.

- - - VAN HELSING ESTATE // JANUARY 16TH - - -

Xavia finds himself striding down the opulent corridors of Aurelius's mansion, passing by priceless paintings and sculptures along the way. They're absurdly valuable, each piece a testament to its creator's genius and Aurelius's taste for exorbitance.

His steps echo off marble floors under a ceiling adorned with intricate murals; figures from ancient history locked in eternal combat amid sweeping landscapes. It's all disgustingly affluent but, it does give an impression of sophistication, he muses darkly to himself.