A Work of Art

Reboot

The news report about Seraphim came only a few hours after the incident. Statements from police indicated that it was nothing but a drug deal gone wrong, and promised to up their vigilance when it came to the drug industry. There was no mention of investigating Seraphim's death much further, of course; who would care about a dead dealer, especially one this small? The corporate-friendly speech that represented a thinly veiled "we don't care" rang throughout Reikas' mind as he tossed and turned in his bed. He was only barely aware of Eden walking in with a knock.

"Hey there, buddy. You alright...?" Eden stumbled towards him, clearly out of their element. The lack of a response from Reikas didn't make their job easier. "Look. I get you feel bad about what happened. But you have to realize, she's a dealer. Sooner or later, she was gonna get on someone's shit list and have to deal with a much worse fate. If anything, you gave her mercy. It's okay." Their hand reached out to play with Reikas' hair, but it was immediately swatted away as his head shot up from bed.

"Okay? OKAY?! I fucking killed her! She was the one showing me mercy, and I made her suffer, stole from her, I took everything from her... It's not 'okay' Eden. Nothing about this is okay." Reikas' tear-covered face slowly fell back into the pillows with a loud sigh. "...who am I kidding, playing with guns and art. I'm nobody."

Still massaging their wrist, Eden stared at the pathetic mess before them. Sure, Rei was always there for them when something was up, but he was never physical like this, and the mistakes have never been this intense before. Moments of silence felt like years before Eden began to speak. "I, should head out to do some things. I'll give you some alone time. Please let me know if you need me and I'll come sprinting back."

"Y-yeah. I will."

"I love you."

"...thank you. I love you too, Eden."

With a small smile on their face, Eden left, shutting the metal door quietly. The bawling eventually died down as Reikas sat himself up on his bed. He glanced over at a half-empty can of spray paint by his dresser. Picking it up and shaking it, Reikas examined it as if it would tell him something, that he's going to be okay, what he should do, anything. The deus ex machina never came. Reikas dropped the can of paint and stared at the ground. "I need some air."

He wrote a quick note to Eden, leaving it on the kitchen table. Throwing on his usual attire of ripped jeans and a black hoodie, Reikas left the safehouse. Less than a minute passed before he ran back inside and grabbed his new mask, a much more elaborate face mask of a lion's head. It always felt weird leaving home without a mask, even if it was only clipped to his pants. When he first bought it, he'd tell anyone willing to listen (Eden) that it was ironic; the proud, fierce Lion hiding behind a mask. Of course, it was just the first mask he found, but that doesn't make a good story.

He didn't have a destination in mind; he simply wandered, figuring wherever he wound out would be the right place to be. His mind wandered, constantly going back to the events of last night. The screams were horrific, all 3 voices bleeding together in awful unison, unable to discern where one ended and another began. The distinct red of Seraphim's wound giving a morbid juxtaposition to the rest of the piece...

Reikas forced himself to stop thinking about it. Instead, he had a new issue to think about: where was he? He checked his phone, only to find he had been walking for at least 2 hours now. Looking around, he realized he wandered into a new area. New to him, anyways. The countless apartment complexes and 40 story business towers all blend together. The only reason he could tell he qas away from his own dilapidated block was the different video advertisement billboards, and the different types of "homeless people" trying to coax donations. Reikas sighed. He wasn't sure why he expected good infrastructure and signage. Nejunia's spokesperson already said that maintenance wasn't profitable, so why bother. Why bother buying the city then?

With a deep breath, Reikas forced himself to focus on the here and now. The only building that looked recognizable at all was a simple, modest looking 2 story place. It barely had working electricity, as evidenced by the shoddy wiring and failing neon sign, labeling the place as "Legally a Bar!" Reikas stared blankly at the sign. Was that the name or the description? He didn't particularly care. Even if he wasn't exactly a drinking type, Reikas was desperate for some sort of relief and distraction. Alcohol was worth a shot.

He found himself gravitating towards the entrance. Pushing the heavy door in, a physical bell rang, startling Reikas. The inside didn't fare much better in terms of... anything. The wallpaper was peeling, the floor was a mess, scents of dirty dishes and vomit from God-knows-when were hastily masked with an unhealthy amount of air freshener. In every aspect, it was awful, yet Reikas found some odd, rustic charm in the countless health code violations.

He walked towards the bar, the only other patron keeping their eyes on him. Reikas sat down, patiently waiting for some bartender to ask him his order. Instead, he was met with a creak of the chair next to him. Glancing over, Reikas nearly jumped at the sight of the only other patron having silently moved their seat directly next to him. He tried to hide his surprise as he glanced over the man. Impossibly pale skin, blue eyes and some facial hair on his chin... definitely taller than himself, probably 6' something. Wearing a brown jacket and black pants, hiding their body type... His investigation was paused when they spoke suddenly.

"You have a lot of nerve to come here."

Reikas glanced around, eventually meeting the man's intense glare. His eyes wouldn't move away, forcing the artist into an uncomfortable staring contest. Although, on closer inspection, he did seem familiar... his fears were confirmed when the man reached into his pocket and pulled out two parts of a torn mask. "You left something."

"Oh... y-you..." Reikas attempted to stutter out an explanation, an apology, anything. Instead, all that came out was an effort to grab the broken mask from the man. He underestimated the pale figure's agility as the mask was thrown across the room. The next thing that surprised Reikas was not the sound of it hitting the ground, but rather it being caught. His eyes, wide in fear, shifted to the area.

A woman. Dark skin and pink hair. A heart tattoo under her right eye. A limp. A black leather jacket and light blue shirt, hiding obvious implants in her stomach area.

And clenched fists, crackling with electricity.