Chapter 16: Chapter 15: The Gran Broach Part 3
In most cities, morning would be the most beautiful time of the day. With the rising sunlight bouncing off the dew, its chilly air, the gentle sounds of murmuring and the ambient thoroughfare. Gotham had that but worse. Due to its island structure, the air had more of a bite. Creatures of the night put on their human faces and walked the streets, blending into the thickening crowd.
Standing in-front a worn down building, with chipped paint and cracked bricks, were a group of five teenagers. Normally, seeing such a large group of scoundrels were an indication of trouble brewing. Causing the early birds to subconsciously give way for the bunch.
"A-are you sure this is the place?"
One lanky teen asked, fidgeting slightly.
"Yep," The short girl popped the 'p'," She lives here."
"Better question," A towering youth quipped," Is it safe? I think it'll breakdown if I step in there."
"Not likely," The tall blonde snorted," These buildings are old but well built. Probably better then most buildings within the past ten years."
"M-maybe we shouldn't talk so f-freely out here," Steve looked around nervously," I-it would be for the best if w-we got inside first."
"You're such a worrywart," Angeline waved dismissively," We're not doing anything wrong."
"Be that as it may," Albert interjected," There's no point to tempt fate…"
Indeed, as he looked around the streets, the youth had spotted many people giving them 'the eye'. People in casual wear but with distinct, uniform features and knew immediately it was better to be cautious, else they believe this group of teens were encroaching unto their turf.
Marceline shrugged her shoulders and knocked on the door. They stood outside for a few moments awkwardly, blocking the small sidewalk and getting dirty looks from passerby.
"What do you want?" An older voice called from above, causing their heads to shoot up in unison. A wizened woman hunched over a balcony glaring down at them, her stringy gray hair was tide up into a tight bun.
"Well?" She asked impatiently," Are you all deaf or what?"
That shook them out of their stupor, they didn't expect this situation.
"Hello?" Angeline called up," We talked on the phone yesterday and you agreed to speak to us?"
"Did I?" The old woman," I talked to a lot of people, and I'm getting up their age so how am I supposed to know that your telling the truth?"
If it wasn't apparent before, but with Albert's professional ranked Psychology skill nudging him in the imaginary side, he knew she was taking them for a ride. There wasn't even a hint of fog in those eyes of hers. The blonde slumped her shoulders in defeat before sliding her bag to the side and taking out a large glass bottle with intricate golden decorations engulfing the thin neck. Spotting such a fancy bottle, the crow quickly changed her tune.
"Ah yes!," She said quickly, changing into a kind grandmother voice," It must be so chilly out there, just a moment I'll be right there."
The crop of gray hair disappeared from the balcony with a twirl of her robe. Albert was a bit shocked after the interaction and looking around at the group, he wasn't alone in that fact.
'Can she even drink that?'
The door opened in front of the group and the same woman stood. Up close, she looked even more frail. But that image went out the window when he noticed the bulge on her hip. Yep, the old woman had some fire. A smile curled around her lips as she waved them forwards.
"Come in, come in," She cooed," I have some tea and biscuits ready.."
What followed would remind some people of a duck leading its duckling. It didn't take long for them to enter the building. It looked a lot smaller on the inside. Polished wooden floors, that same old vomit inducing wallpaper and variety of little knickknacks combined to give off the feeling of someone actually living here. Photos of two people in an array of happy occasions. The man looked to be incredible handsome, with an incredibly strong frame. Next to him, the woman looked oh so small in comparison. Whether it be rock climbing, swimming, hiking; it didn't matter, they looked happy all the same.
No one was stupid enough not to make the obvious connection, the woman in the photos had grown up and turn into this old crow before them. The march of time was blind and would take everything they held dear, eventually.
Soon, they were sat in comfy chairs. The crinkling of plastic was all that filled their ears as they did so. Albert guessed that's probably why the designs didn't look faded whatsoever.
Before the group sat a steaming pot of some sort along with a cluster of biscuits. It was almost comical to see how Michael essentially dwarfed the seat. And judging from the smug looks he was getting from the rest of the group, Albert wasn't alone in his mirth.
"Damn," The woman crowed," Aren't you a big one? What do they feed you boy?"
Before the youth could answer, he was cut off by the waving of her hand.
"Never mind that, you got me that wine so I'll talk. What do you want to know? You should know I ain't no snitch."
The old woman's crass way of speaking contrasted greatly with her previous tone.
"We should do introductions first," Marceline decided to extend an olive branch," My name is Marceline."
"I'm Angeline."
"Michael"
"S-steven but my friends call me Steve.."
"My name's Albert."
"Since you're twisting my arm," The gray hair woman smirked," You all may call me Mrs. Woodard."
"Before we start," Angeline held up the bottle," Thank you agreeing to meet with us and I have a… housewarming gift."
"Give that here," Mrs. Woodard's hand blurred into motion, popped the fancy cap off and took a few deep whiffs of the brew," Oh yeah, that's the good stuff…"
"We wish to ask you about a situation that happened 40 years ago," Marceline started," About Marian Gran."
That name caused the old woman to pause in her appreciations and look off into the distance for a few moments. She looked to be deep in thought and locked her light blue gaze onto the party.
"I haven't heard that name in a long time," She sighed," The time is pretty hazy for me, so don't expect much. Are you sure that's all you want to know? These old eyes of mine have seen a lot.."
"I thought you said you weren't a snitch?"
Michael couldn't help but blurt out.
"Did I?" Her eyes danced with hidden mirth," I'm just an old woman, my memory must be failing me. Who are you people and why are you in my house?"
"Ignore him," Angeline elbowed the big youth," He doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut."
"Thank you Angeline," She nodded her head," What do all of you wish to know?"
"C-could you tell us of t-the time?"
"Like I said, I don't remember much. She didn't teach any of my classes, I was only a junior at the time. Marian primarily worked with seniors. She worked directly under Gerald Berg, the Physics teacher. Let me tell you, he was quite the handsome man. Not like these girly looking boys now a days. Men looked like men. End of discussion." Mrs. Woodard paused," After the school couldn't keep her death under wraps, my mom didn't hesitate to take me out of that school and put me somewhere else. Frankly, I'm glad she did. I've heard nothing but weird things about it."
"Were there any interesting rumors?"
Albert asked, knowing rumors always had a kernel of truth.
"Rumors? Yeah there were plenty of them. I think I heard someone say she used to be a stripper or prostitute or nun or something. I didn't believe anything like that simply because I knew it was from jealously. They say she was in a bit of a love triangle."
'Why does it always come down to that?!'
The young investigator internally groaned. It was a very common troupe to use, a way for writers to add some drama in their work. Want to make your slasher villain seem more human? Make it so he was involved in a past love triangle and have him pause at her photo, giving the cast the moment they need to flee into the night. Albert had despised them in his old world and that wouldn't be changing anytime soon.
"Love triangle?" Michael's eyes beamed," With who?"
"It was quite scandalous," She chuckled," But guess."
"Her boss and a student?"
The large youth didn't hesitate to answer. Ignoring the incredulous glances he was getting from the rest.
"I didn't know you liked those types of shows…"
The blonde said, trailing off when she saw his brightening face.
"I didn't at first, but my sister got me into "My Love-"
"Has no Breaks." Mrs. Woodard finished," What season are you on?"
"I'm at the part where Rachel has come back after faking her own death and caught her sister sleeping with her side piece."
"That's the best part, but you continue to watch it because it turns out her sister is-"
"Don't spoil it for me!" Michael interrupted," I promised to only watch when my sister is home, she'll kill me if I watch ahead of her."
"Maybe we should get back on track?"
Marceline interrupted.
"Fine ruin my fun," The old woman coughed," Anyway, yes it was exactly that. It was rumored that Gerald was fond of Marian and often saw the two talking 'closely' with each other. But also that some else was after her too. A boy by the name of Nethanel Hadrien. Now that was a boy with issues, his father was the head of some mob back then and it seemed like his son would inherit it. They were polar opposites; where Gerald was kind and understanding, Nethanel was a menace to not just the students but also to the staff. He got away with so much shit bullying, stealing, fighting and so much more. Did I mention he was ugly? Big as a whale he was, looked a bit like a toad. Every knew the troublemaker was sweet on Marian and given his appearance, it was snowballs chance in hell for her to pick him over Gerald. When she was found dead, we all just assumed Nethanel did it. The police deeming it a suicide didn't help the matter, it just stunk to high heaven."
"So you think this Nethanel killed her?"
Albert asked.
"Honestly? Yeah, it fits not just his father's MO but also his too. If he was to inherit the mob, then why wouldn't he be required to bloody his own hands. Maybe she rejected him, Nethanel went berserk and killed the poor woman. I don't know what happens after, my friends kept me updated for a time before their parents took them out of the school too. Something about ghosts or some stupid shit like that. I stopped talking to them when they went on about that, I grew up catholic and refused to believe their speaks of witchcraft."
It took the young investigator everything in his power not to glance in Marceline's direction, he guessed her using that Ouija board would get them unceremoniously kicked out. He was sure there was more to it and didn't want this conversation to be cut short due to religious differences.
"I didn't keep track of the situation after that, life moves on and the death of Marian went to the back of my head." She began to look a bit tired after her long explanation," Do you need anything else?"
The group looked at each other with a silent question in their eyes.
"No," Angeline responded," I think that's everything."
"Good," Mrs. Woodard said," Get out. Thanks for the wine though."
Albert didn't need to be told twice, he remembered how his grandparents had also used plastic coverings on their furniture. I was uncomfortable then and even more now. Just as they were getting up to leave, the old woman handed Michael a piece of paper. He took one look at the writing on the paper and cursed loudly. He then stormed out of the house under the incessant cackling of the woman. Steve looked on in a mixture of confusion and concern.
"We should follow after him."
Angeline said, giving the cackling woman the stink eye.
When the door closed behind them, the group saw a clearly agitated giant standing with his arms folded. In comparison to the cozy and warm environment, the chill bit deeper into their bodies.
"W-what happened?"
Steve cautiously asked the teen.
"Do I need to go back in there?"
Angeline menacingly asked.
"She's the reason why I won't see any of you for a week after we're done here.."
Michael grumped.
"Why?"
Marceline started to look concerned, thinking the worse.
"Turns out the show I mentioned is actually a fucking trilogy, there are two more that predates this one." He shook his large fist at the empty balcony above," Now I need to watch those before I continue."
Albert could only shake his head at the situation, what she had done was incredibly cruel. He knew those kind of dramas tended to go on for a long time and the nonsensical nature tended to turn the fan-base insane. They kind of formed a type of Stockholm syndrome for these shows. Where at first they only watched it due to how bad it was until they started to enjoy how awful it was. The constants twists, faked deaths, backstabbing, cheating and everything would wear down on anyone eventually. And given the moistening eyes of Michael, he was nearing his breaking point.
"We'll visit big fella."
Angeline patted the distraught youth's back.
"W-where to next?"
Steve asked.
"To Nethanel Hadrien of course."
***********************************************************************************
Neither Marceline nor the smug Angeline would respond to any questions while they their way through the city. Not on the bus nor when they had entered into a more bustling part of Gotham. Large building stretched endlessly into the sky and it felt more alive than Downtown. This place had array of blazing sign boards of models in weird costumes. Beautiful people walked around animatedly and laughed loudly.
Completely different than the usual cautious air he had grown use to since his first day in Gotham.
"First time?"
Michael asked, obviously seeing the visible confusion on his face.
"Yeah, are you sure we haven't left the city?"
"No," The towering youth held his arms aloft wide," Welcome to Gotham's Fashion District."
"Where dreams of grandeur go to die.." Angeline snorted," You wouldn't believe how many pornstars I see on these billboards."
"I know," He huffed in annoyance," It's why I'm trying to talk my sister out of trying to become a model here."
"Really?" The blonde had a concerned look on her face," I'll have a talk with her."
"Thanks, she'll probably listen to you."
"A-anyway," Steve coughed breaking the stiff atmosphere," A-are you guys g-going to tell us any d-details on w-what's going on?"
"Sure there's no point now," The tall girl shrugged," When we found him in the records, it was huge surprise to know that he designed my jeans. Getting in contact with him was also incredibly easy, and he agreed to speak to us in exchange for my mom to push up a certain proposal in City Hall."
"What kind of proposal?"
Michael leaned forward, looking to gobble as much gossip as possible.
"He wants to have a certain theme during one of his fashion shows and needs approval as for what them? You'll have to ask him."
Albert really didn't know what to say at the casual mention of corruption right in front of him. And judging from how unbothered everyone else was, made him even more cautious. It might be just a small matter but still, he could see exactly how out of hand all this can get. If something happens at this show, then her mother would be on the chopping block. And it wouldn't take long for them to find communications between the two. But knowing how this city worked, she probably only had to grease some palms to make the problem go away. He decided to stay quite in this situation, no point to draw the ire of the girl.
He followed the group as they tunneled through the press of bodies, using Michael's towering frame like an icebreaker. Like a ball hitting against a wall, glares and dirty looks they got didn't seem to faze them. Thick skin indeed..
It didn't take long before the group reached a larger than life, tower of glass and metal. It stretched seemingly endless into the sky, causing a jolt of queasiness to jump through Albert's stomach. Bile threatening to rise up in his throat. The world seem to have stretched around his vision as he imagine himself jumping from that height. The wind in his face, the absolute terror that gripped his heart, the regret, arms flailing fruitlessly, the sensation of skin against concrete, of the infini-
"Hey are you okay? Hey!"
Marceline had to physically shake the teen's shoulders to get him out of his spiraling descent.
"Uh?" He asked dazedly," I'm fine, just lost in thought.."
She looked at him with disbelief evident in her hazel eyes. Albert knew he wasn't a good liar, but he relied heavily on her impatience. She wanted to get this case down as soon as possible to lessen the chances of Marian believe they had abandoned her and turn into a malicious spirit.
"Then come on," She pulled him along," You were just standing there like an idiot."
He silently allowed himself to be led, still somewhat shaken at the recent event.
[SAN: 41/45]
'It seems that even after all those years, I'm still affected by my death. Note to self, no more tall buildings. If just being near an extremely tall one invoked this feeling, then I don't want to see what happens if I actually stood on the roof of one..'
Albert needed a way to recover his sanity, he felt like it was slipping away from his fingers at a faster rate. Ever sense he witness Black Mask kill that man in cold blood, it was though a hole had formed and slowly weakened his mental defenses. Allowing anything traumatic to heavily impact him. Fear was one thing, but losing SAN was a problem.
'Maybe some therapy would do?'
There were instances of Investigators with low SAN to go to some therapy in their off time in order to slowly recover sanity loss. But this usually took months and the world wouldn't stop in order for him to recover.
'Drugs?'
That was also an instant no. There were so many instance of protagonists from lovecraftian stories resorting to drugs or alcohol in order to cope with what they had experienced. They all ended the same. In a mental hospital before killing themselves. And given where he would be sent if he went insane, suicide was preferable. Plus besides, drugs takes vasts amount of money.
Whatever he had to do in order to keep his mind in tact, it needed to done soon.
"How can I help you?"
A nasally voice asked. Looking up, Albert noticed the group clustered awkwardly in front of a pure glass desk. A large monitor seems to be the only difference in the material. A woman in a tight business suit sat behind the desk. She had auburn hair tied up into a tight bun, sharp cheekbones and glacial blue eyes. She would be considered attractive if not for the barely concealed sneer on her face.
"Yes," Angeline took the center stage smiling politely," We have an appointment with Nethanel Hadrien."
"That is Mr. Hadrien to you sweety," The secretary quipped," And I very much doubt that."
"Could you atleast check?"
The smile on the blonde's face started to look strained as she struggled not lash out at the rude woman.
"After I check I'm calling the guard." The woman grumbled and few moments later she sharply asked Angeline," Name?"
"Angeline Gramercy."
That caused the secretary to look over the monitor with a quirked eyebrow.
"You sure?"
"I know my own name."
It seemed as though the constant rudeness had finally caused the thin mask of politeness to fully leave the blonde's attitude. Hard blue eyes framed by golden locks, stared down at the now uneasy woman. Who didn't even dare to look the angry teen in the eye anymore. It was a few moments of awkward silence before the woman stared pass the blonde into thin air.
"I will inform Mr. Hadrien of your arrival, please meet him on the 15th floor. Will you be requiring a guide?"
"No," Angeline huffed," We'll be fine."