Chapter Text
Take a turn to the right, down the stairs, then down a hatch. afterwards speak 4 words accordingly to each sign you see. God, how tedious. I know the Handler Society was housed in the Guild of Van Helsing to avoid security leaks and all but I didn't know they made it this complicated ever since that breach a few months ago.
I entered the reception. A very modest yet somewhat luxurious lobby. I headed to the ticket machine to take one, it dispensed with the number 20 in the Times New Roman font. And I waited as the waiting line lessened by the minute. As I waited, a few glanced at me. Well, at my arm. I tried to hide it away, but then again, no amount of hiding would stop the gaze directed at me. Some looked in concern for their safety, some in scorn of me, some in curiosity to the mere fact that I am allowed here. I'm a little uncomfortable. Yeah, I took part in the war, I fought for you all and committed atrocities for the old regime. But damn it, that doesn't give you all the right to look at me like some animals. I understand that my arm is a danger. It looks large, even the bandages dont help with dimming the heat, it scorches you even if i cover it up. I hate it too, so don't treat me any differently than how you would a disabled.
"Number 20!" Ah, speak of the devil. I made my way to the desk, slid my ID behind the glass wall's slit as I sat down, the man behind the wall received it and promptly began the transaction. "Business?" The handlers voice spoke in an almost professional detachment. I say almost, because I thought I heard him scoff when he retrieved my ID card. Disdainful discrimination, how banal.
"All info on the Book Wyrm. Anything's useful." I start out as blunt as I can. I dont need anything I can't use or any other fillers about the Tide of Qlippoth like its reigning members and its non-affiliated. He looks at me confused. Eyes burrowing and all. Like I'd just say something wrong.
"Who?" he said. What? What do you mean who? Isn't it your job to know?
"Book Wyrm. Y'know. Tide of Qlippoth member.", "We dont have any records of however it is you're—" he cuts off, looks at me like he's realizing something then forgetting it.
"What?" I asked him.
"Book Wyrm...as in the guy who deals in riddles?" huh. Don't remember him being famous for that. But sure, I nod at the statement. He looks to the side, at his coworker. Asks the same question I did, only this time she answered with a response I can use.
"Book Wyrm, Calstone. All his stuff is in cabinet 732-A." She says. He stood and went to the back for roughly 3 minutes. He came back looking rather intrigued. As he hands me the dossier about Mr. Book Wyrm here. I take a gander of the contents. Let's see, first appearance is 982 AC. Notable feats only include...robbing a bank using riddles? How would you—
...Thats a little underwhelming. Arrested on 988 AC, released on 993 AC on a plea bargain. His mugshot picture is that of a man in his 40s, much like Mr. Crow at times. He has a scowl that Wildfire has on, only a little less intimidating. His hairs a navy blue, and its messy. Dark skin, human. No other features as far as I can see. An ordinary run-of-the-mill guy. Should be easy to find.
Aside from that, his file's surprisingly light. Nothing much on this guy even after he's been coerced into telling everything he knows? Reading up on his background's not helpful either as its mostly been redacted. Only thing here I can make out is that his only domicile in...
Lioment. Down the south? I look towards the handler infront of me. And my gaze lingers for a second longer as I notice him bleeding from the nose. "Hey, you okay? You're bleeding there." As I say that, he touches his nosebleed before looking at me with a dazed look.
"...What goes on four feet in the morning, two feet at noon, and three feet in the evening?" What? Did he just spew a riddle at me? I don't try to be rude but what the hell was the context behind that? What am I even supposed to say here? He put me in a tight spot.
...Four feet in the morning...two...then three...Oh. "A man?" At that, he looks at me with sudden clarity. Brings a hand up to his head like someone dealing with a headache.
"Ugh, sorry what'd you say?"
"...A man? Y'know, the riddle you asked me?"
"What?" He looks at me like I'm spouting some bullshit. I do the same. He sighed, then wiped his nose with his handkerchief he picked up from inside his pocket.
"...Sorry ma'am. We have other people waiting. Can you please conclude your business and be over with it." With that same detachment he had earlier.
...Oh so he's going to ignore the absurdity of the riddle. Alright.
I sigh and get up, dossier in hand reading over it while I walk over to the exit. Guess my next stop's Lioment. All the stuff I was given is a little useless. I mean, activities are little to nil, his plea bargain deal's not even mentioned, his current whereabouts are non-existent as its just stated that he disappeared a little over 5 years ago. The only thing about him here thats mildly interesting is his work about the "Spiral Gestalt" and even then its been disproved by the Sephiroth's Enforcers. Oh well, better to do an old check like always then. That's always been up my alley anyways. It'll be difficult without the others but nothing that'll hurt me if done alone.