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Oh, good. My favorite kind.

My old place.

But that's a better place to meet. I'll head back that way.
After a bit.

[That'd have been Stocke's second guess - he just assumed that if Garrett didn't know where to find him, then he'd probably just seen...]

take your time

[It's going to be a long bit on Stocke's end, even if he hitches a ride.]

i'll see you there

[He needed a safe place to re-orientate himself with the network device. Also figure out how to private message someone since it's his first time. Usually people just contact him...]

I'll be waiting.

[Garrett took his time getting there, rustling about the clocktower for a good long while and seeing what parts he could gather close by for the re-remake of his trusty bow. It would take a few days but getting a start early never hurt anyone.

After some hours past, he finally headed back out towards the old Devil's Nest. He set up a small web in a comfortable corner up high and tight and dark, and like he said he waited.

[Stocke... isn't too fond of spending time near the burned remnants of the old Nest. It's a reminder of how he brought it on them, and then how he failed to fix it - he killed Kimbley, killed several more, stabbed someone in the shapeshifted guise of their friend, and he still failed to find the conduit who handed the Nest over to the Fourth. New city or not, better position than before or not, he should've done better.]

[His expression doesn't show it, but his lashing tendrils are a dead giveaway. They stay in frustrated motion even as he circles the Nest, looking for Garrett. (He doesn't actually enter the edges - he's loath to let it strip him of his monster powers, and besides, it's burned near to the ground. Garrett's fond of high places - if he's anywhere, he'll be on one of the surrounding buildings -)]

[Still, the shade's tendrils perk immediately once he catches sight of the edge of Garrett's web. The arachne himself blends into the dark, but Stocke's night vision is enough to see a vague shape - he raises a hand in greeting himself.]

This is familiar, [he comments, wry, once he's close enough to do it without raising his voice. Last time Garrett came back, wasn't Stocke also looking up at a web...?]

[The shade seems... mostly unchanged, at least on the surface. Bar one thing - there's an odd cloak draped over his shoulders, one that looks like it's made of shadow.]

[The arachne watched from his perch up high as Stocke approached. The lashing tendrils were too obvious to miss even from up here and Garrett immediately knew something was wrong. It took him a moment but eventually he relaxed--the shade wasn't angry or agitated at anything specific, he surmised from watching Stocke, but perhaps simply uncomfortable with where he was. It would make sense considering what was down there. It made the sneak thief uncomfortable just looking at it, too.

He also noted how Stocke avoided crossing over the threshold of the charred remains. That sort of cinched it for Garrett, confirming his assumption, or so he hoped. Still, he did not move away from his perch and continued to watch Stocke silently for the moment, not giving himself away.

Despite this, he was rewarded when Stocke did finally find him stowed away - with a wave and a gentle, if but wry, greeting from the shade. It was enough to set him fully at ease and the tension in the web shifted slightly as he did. One slender appendage betrayed him with a flick that looked suspiciously like a wave back at the shade.

He cocked his head to the side as Stocke approached him from below, gazing down at the shade with a hint of wry amusement himself.]

What can I say. I like my creature comforts.

[There was a pun in there somewhere and Garrett did his best to keep a straight face as he pulled it out like a dead weight behind him while he tried to tip-toe through a field of delicate, and poisonous, flowers.]

[For a second Stocke doesn't even notice there's a pun. What can he say? He doesn't expect one from Garrett. A deadpan joke, sure, but -]

[You can see the moment he realizes. It's something in his eyes, the way they drop to a dim gray for a full two seconds. Did the arachne just...]

Now I'm sure you're an imposter, [the shade tosses back once he's recovered, eyes flickering in an amused static pattern. He springs off the ground, barely bending his legs, and darts up roughly to Garrett's eye level; there he settles in empty air, drifting.]

...we weren't able to stay in Vandare. [Quiet, with far less levity. He doesn't add even a dry, 'As you might've guessed,' - this subject's still too sore for him.] So we went to Mana for our new place.

It's impossible to get in without a guide who already lives there. Or a matchbox. [There's the explanation of the 'complicated' earlier, why he went to meet Garrett instead of just telling the man where he was.]

[The responding smirk was, sadly, short lived as Stocke went on with a more sombre tone. A pity since he could have readily kept that levity going between them if given the chance. It was both odd and comforting to be back here - to see his ...friend again. He even stayed relaxed as Stocke came up to him and wasn't that an interesting tell.

But there was little time to dwell on the nicer aspects, as usual around here. This place was just too horrible to ever let anything akin to happiness last.

Garrett was used to that. Either here or back in the City, that sort of darkness seemed to follow him around.]

Huh. [Was his initial response. A thoughtful pause ensued before he responded in earnest, speaking slowly.] So you went all out, got some sort of... magical protection? I suppose that's interesting.

[A beat followed and then Garrett said wryly:] Or it would be. Kinda makes it hard for a thief to challenge himself when you give away the secret to penetrating the most impenetrable 'lock' on the peninsula. [How could you deprive me of that? his eyes seemed to accuse.]

It's not much of a secret when the boss or one of our bartenders tells half the network on the regular. [One of Stocke's tendrils flicks - he doesn't seem all that annoyed, whatever his words. If anything, maybe a bit fond, a bit exasperated? Besides, while Stocke thinks it'd be safer if nobody from outside knew the way in (where Garrett doesn't count as "from outside")...] We still need patrons.

[Which, okay, their city could probably cover. But Greed's especially interested in monsters.]

...but it is more impenetrable than before - not enough matchbooks out there for someone to stage an assault. I'm just sure it wouldn't have given you pause.

[Hm. You know what he hasn't actually clarified?] And I think you'll find something to occupy yourself if you visit. Even without the challenge. The new place is a city. [And not a city like Vandare, where they took over half - a city straight from scratch.]

[A small moment of silence, and then:] All right. I suppose it wouldn't be then.

[His ego was pacified. You win.]

A whole new city, hm? [That was quite the wish. Garrett paused again, thoughtfully, a pair of his spider legs working at nothing in particular behind him. When they stopped and folded down closer to his back, he spoke again.] I guess a visit couldn't hurt.

[The corner of Stocke's mouth quirks up.] If it's not too much of a hardship to abandon your web, I can guide you in. [It'll mean Garrett can bypass the need for a matchbox, just the once. Or - Stocke tilts his head.] Or any other time. Just send a message.

[For a moment the shade's eyes slip sideways to the burned shell of the Nest again. He pauses, tendrils moving slowly, then returns his gaze to the thief. A bit softer:] ...it's good to see you again.

[Then, dry -] Though I don't envy you the Fog God's favour, if she's brought you back a third time.

[Garrett slipped down a bit, putting himself at Stocke's level exactly. Behind him was an almost invisible line of web that held him suspended in midair, making him almost a match for Stocke's shade-y levitation.

There was a small glint to his eye that held his slight amusement, gone in a flash.] It's comfortable, but it can always be made in a better place than this.

[He almost ignored it. It would be simple to bypass the statement altogether and pretend it was never said or heard. But he did hear it ... and quietly replied.] You as well.

[His eyes rolled skyward and he huffed out a breath of air audibly.] I know. I can't imagine why she'd want me that badly. [His gaze dropped back down to Stocke.] Let's not stick around to find out. Take the lead.

[Leading the way it is! Stocke lets himself drop back to the ground, landing with two feet and one hand, then straightening. He shades his eyes from moonlight as he looks up, waiting for Garrett either to join him down below or make moves to skitter across the rooftops.]

It's not close. We'll make better time if we catch one of the buses.

[Or hitch a ride on top of one. Same thing.]

[The thief pulled a small face at the mention of buses. As an arachne he tended to just run from city to city. It was quick enough for him. Arachnes were damn fast. And besides, he usually left a day (well, night) early if he had a particular time limit to a job.

Anyway, he did not comment though so maybe he would endure it this one time. For Stocke.

There was a moment of consideration before the arachne lowered himself the rest of the way down on his web line, touching down on the ground lightly with his feet. He would have stayed up high on his own. He may even end up there again yet once they started heading out and Garrett got a feel for the direction they were headed. He could easily track Stocke from above. Well, unless they turned into a game. In which case...]

[Well, hey, if he wanted to carry Stocke -- but Stocke remembers the last time he touched Garrett, and the thief's reaction. He figures that's not an offer Garrett would make.]

[The shade does seem a little startled by Garrett joining him on the ground - but he's hardly going to object. He sets a fast pace to where he knows the Vandare-Bavan bus stops, at this time of night; no games this time, though maybe if Garrett prompts him... Either way, the arachne should have no trouble picking up where they're going.]

[The bus is idling when they arrive, set to take off in about five minutes. Stocke jerks his head in the direction of the roof, assuming that - like him - Garrett will want to avoid the humans crammed inside.]

[The shade himself steps inside just a moment to pay for the both of them instead of sneaking above - if only to make sure there's incentive to keep running these things this late, a good time for nocturnal monsters. He ignores any and all comments and exclamations from human passengers, melting into his shadow form to drift through the roof and settle (solid) up top.]

[The driver doesn't react. He's probably seen more than a few monsters in his time, taking this route nightly.]

[Despite the fact that Garrett was the permanently solid one he seemed to disappear and reappear as if through walls on a frequent basis during their quick trip. He was hardly doing such a thing but he did flit about quickly and silently, disappearing off into tangent alleyways or dark recesses that went elsewhere entirely. Garrett was simply testing his knowledge of the city and working out how much of it had changed. Most of it hadn't, at least not by much he figured, and found many of his old boltholes and alternate routes intact as he somehow still kept pace with Stocke along the way.

Without preamble, Garrett climbed on top of the bus and waited. When Stocke joined him up there Garrett's only response to the shade paying was a very obviously lifted eyebrow.

Though it was not in his expression or demeanor, and he had no intention of sharing his opinion, he did not approve of the payment. Well, "approve or disapprove" wasn't really the right idea; he just didn't understand it much less would he ever think of doing it. He couldn't fathom why Stocke had just bothered.

Hence the almost questioning eyebrow raise towards the other.]

[Stocke responds to the look with a faint, wry smile. He doesn't bother with anything like commenting on Garrett's lack of paying habits; instead, it's just...] Encourages them to keep driving at night. And not run for it if they see a monster coming for a ride.

[The engine rumbles to life; Stocke leans onto his hands, digging his claws into the roof.]

Huh. [There was no shrug of his shoulders, but there may have been the sound of one in his noncommittal noise.] Well, whatever helps you sleep at daylight.

[The arachne hunkered down, steadying himself against the upcoming wind once the bus got out of town and set course with a decent speed. He didn't have to dig his claws in; his 'stickiness' would work well enough, reinforced with a bit of webbing.]

[One of Stocke's tendrils flicks, amused. Only Garrett...]

[Ok, fine, no, that's not accurate. Only Garrett and about half the population of Djävulenstad...]

[The ride's a quiet one, with very few stops between Vandare and Bavan, at places too small to put on the map. Even those stops last for no more than a minute each, just long enough for someone to get off. When they do get to Bavan, Stocke waits several stops within the city before abruptly motioning at Garrett to get off -]

[(While the bus is still moving, of course. ...he's sure Garrett will have no problems handling that.)]

[- before cutting a course to the northern end of the city. They've still got some walking to do, but the trip's shorter from here.]

[Garrett didn't even hesitate when Stocke indicated they should jump from the bus even as it still moved forward. Even had he not been an arachne he probably would have done so with little hesitation, only waiting so long as to time his jump right. As an arachne, he merely leapt first and considered his next course of action second. It was easy to throw a line of webbing out as he flew off the bus, catching the nearest building and hauling himself up to the roof in record time.

He followed Stocke from his vantage up top, again disappearing periodically only to reappear a few minutes later with nothing to say of his 'invisibility' act. Like in Vandare, he simply was exploring old pathways and hideouts as they moved through the city.]

[It's quickly clear why Stocke chose specifically this point to hop off - it's the closest to the northern road out of Bavan. He pauses at the edge of the city to watch the rooftops, waiting for Garrett to finish whatever's left of his refamiliarizing loops. Then he tilts his head in the direction leading out of Bavan - this way. Garrett will have to give up his rooftops for now.]

[The shade melts into his less solid form for speed - though as an arachne, Garrett can probably outrace him twice over. Their path from here goes along the main road north for a while, then splits off - some time after it does, Stocke slows to a halt. He drops both back into his nearly-human form and onto the sand that's now underfoot, motioning Garrett closer.]

...you'll have to stay near me to get past the border. [A pause. Stocke won't say he's remembering something, but...] No need to touch, but be close enough that you could.

[Thirty seconds' worth of steps later, the edges of the city bloom out of the sand.]

[Well it wasn't a wrong assessment that Stocke made about the remembered idea. Garrett simply nodded though a part of him was probably relieved for that lack of touching. He could have gritted his teeth and managed it with Stocke--as long as it was on his own terms--but not having to was so much better still.

He did as told, sticking ridiculously close to the shade without actually touching. He seemed really good at it actually.

Once the cityscape became visible Garrett looked around his new surroundings mildly. Though his gaze was always assessing he tended to look bored more than anything else. It was just one more city to memorize and ~~terrorize~~ stalk through the shadows. He'd figure it out with ease given the time.

Later. Now, he stuck with Stocke as the shade led the way ever forward.]

[This end of the city is near-silent, closer to empty than any of the rest. Not entirely, but you wouldn't be surprised if someone told you a decent chunk of the buildings weren't occupied.]

[Not to say there aren't people, even at this time of night - or perhaps because it's this time of night? They watch Garrett cagily ~~maybe anticipating that terrorizing?~~ but seem more familiar with Stocke.]

[The shade himself raises a tendril in a sort-of wave at a few, but his attention's clearly still focused on Garrett.] ...here we are.

[He jerks his head toward the city center, visible through a faint incline toward the coast. As well as by holding the city's two highest points - a hill with the glittering lights of a single building perched on the top, and... is that a clocktower? That's a clocktower.]

Nest's that way. [Wry -] In the very center.

The crown jewel here is the 'Nest, huh? Well, at least the city doesn't lie with a big, fat mansion that costs more than it took to build the rest of the city proper.

[He sounded matter-of-fact laced with a hint of dry and dark humor. It seemed to be a running theme of cities to start with something nice that belied the lower ends. Maybe it was just the nature of always having new things built while old things just got even more old and decayed with time. Either way, he didn't really care so much as find it a fact of life.

Garrett's attention was drawn almost instinctively to the highest structure in that area though. The clocktower was a familiar sight no matter where it was or how it was built. If there was a clocktower in a city he was usually drawn to it. Of course, back in his own City it had been a convenient place to set up due to circumstances surrounding the supposedly haunted clocktower. But here it was just a welcome sight due to the familiarity of the inside workings of the clock mechanism that he had learned how to maintain on his own long ago.

He glanced back towards Stocke without another word. Waited.]

[Stocke follows Garrett's gaze, then returns his eyes to the arachne not long after Garrett does the same.]

The tower?

[Come to think of it, wasn't Garrett's lair back in Vandare - aside from his relatively regular visits to the web in the nest - another clocktower?]

[Garrett's chin dipped slightly as he went into a reply.]

...Occupied?

[Yes, that was where he looked. And yes, that was what interested him. And even more subtly implied, yes, that was where he had lived in Vandare, too.]

Edited 2018-04-01 03:26 (UTC)

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