Chapter Text
“Eugh, this is literally the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever worn…”
“What, you wanna choose a different one?”
“Yeah, if I’m being honest.”
Sure, the manor was hard to get used to. Nothing really made sense, so when their closets got stocked with costumes , Naib knew nothing could surprise him about his situation anymore. The feathers pissed him off the most, having changed into his Eagle’s Dance costume just to see how it was. He and Norton got curious; one can only look at the strange things for so long before they had to check it out. A surprisingly heavy mask covered his face, casting shadows he didn’t necessarily hate. The feathers, though—goddamn did they annoy him.
He and Norton were in the mercenary’s room, Norton immediately saying they should go there instead of his. He brushed it off as his room was messier. The Prospector dug into the closet, pulling out two costumes. He strained his neck to read the tags.
“Uh, Steam Teen or Colonel Dax? ”
Naib pointed back and forth before eventually stopping on the more military looking costume. He didn’t feel like getting into too many layers, and that steam-whatever seemed like entirely too much.
Luckily for him, this costume didn’t really change his physical appearance. Others could change entire skin tones, hair, and eye color. Honestly, it was a bit jarring to see. Naib took the hanger from him, along with the boots and turned around. He noticed that Norton didn’t seem to mind getting changed together, and that was fine with him but Naib still liked a little privacy. Of course, Norton understood this, averting his eyes when they did get changed together.
Naib slipped the armor off, haphazardly shoving it onto the hanger it came on. The other costume was pretty simple, actually. Dull gray uniform, brown belts, buckles, boots, and gloves. An outer jacket that made for an interesting silhouette, fashion wise. Once he finally got all the accessories on, he flattened the pants with his gloved hands.
Norton turned around, eyes dragging up and down the costume.
“That looks really good on you, honestly.”
“You’re one to talk. Black’s your color, y’know?” Naib gave a small smile at the compliment.
“Aw, ya think so?” Norton returned the smile.
“Of course, you’ve got like three of those things that make you look all goth.” The mercenary snorted.
“Whatever.”
He and the Prospector had matches together often; played often in general. Maybe that’s why they had so many costumes, maybe it’s based on popularity. Whatever it was, Naib didn’t care.
Naib watched as Norton relaxed into the lobby chair, man-spreading in a very Norton way. Naib sat as well, resting his jaw on his palm. Sometimes, it would take several minutes for a match, sometimes it would take mere seconds. Naib really didn’t like the uncertainty of it.
He took the time they were given for matchmaking to look at Norton’s costume. It looked really nice, the black poet shirt he wore was open in the front, showing off his chest and necklace. Naib looked at that area for a while, telling himself that he simply found the necklace interesting and that he wasn’t, he repeats, wasn’t lying to himself.
His thoughts were interrupted as Norton crossed his arms in front of his chest, throwing his head back.
“This damn wait time,” He groaned. “Too much pep in my step to be stuck sitting around.”
“I understand how that feels… Wish they had a skirmish for matchmaking. Hate having nothing to do.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure it won’t be long un—” Norton was interrupted by the match door opening.
Anne and Helena entered, Anne smiling at them both, Helena waving vaguely to them as she walked with her cane. Naib sighs, slightly relieved that they had a decoder. He hated those damn machines, always popping and cracking —he hated it. Norton didn’t seem to mind them, though he has mentioned how hard the calibrations are for him. Naib would much rather work on the machines with Norton than alone, it allowed him to calm down a bit.
“I think I’ll carry 39, I’m sure I can rely on you to rescue,” Anne smiled, Helena and her sitting down in the vacant chairs. Her hands clasped together above the table, purple nail polish adorning her fingers. She was wearing her Hidden outfit, her nails perfectly matching the color of her accessories.
She seemed to have noticed Naib staring, unclasping her hands and holding one out, limp-wrist so he could get a better look at them. Her smile was sweet as he gingerly held her hand to move the fingers around and see the polish sparkle.
“Do you like them? Miss Woods did them for me, she’s such a darling…”
“Yeah, they’re pretty… Thank you for letting me see.”
“Of course, Mr. Subedar. You’re welcome to join me and the girls after this match, we cook dinner and relax—you too, Mr. Campbell!” She spoke, looking over to the prospector.
Norton nodded, pasting a lazy smile to his face.
“Sure, I need the down time. Thanks, Miss Lester.”
The team continued talking until the match started, the fog invading their minds with a vision of a mirror breaking.
The map was White Sand Street Asylum, Norton sighed. It was a particularly unknown map for him, second only to Golden Caves . He was sure this map wasn’t liked by hunters either, it just had too many twists and turns. Norton paced through the halls, shivering at the rigid air. Damn his costume for how low the shirt cut was, maybe if the map was Moonlit River Park it would be more enjoyable.
Norton placed himself on the first cipher he found, Anne pinging that the hunter was near her. Poor girl, this was a horrible map for her. On the contrary, a wonderful one for him.
“Sorry!” Anne pinged, warning the team of her probable short kite. She had only been found for a few seconds… Why was she already pinging?
Norton huffed, continuing his cipher. Things were quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds being the machine in front of him.
“Follow me!” Anne pinged. Huh?
Norton’s fingers stopped on the cipher, hesitantly walking away. He followed the ping, legs a wee bit shaky as his heart rate increased.
He heard laughter from the room over; the church area. Peaking in, he saw Anne clapping. In front of her was the Violinist, claws around his instrument. The music that he made never failed to raise his neck hair.
Seems that this round was friendly?
Anne turned once the Violinist was finished with this performance, perking up and beckoning him inside.
“Norton! Mr. Paganini here has decided to hold a recital, instead of hunting.”
“Ah,” The hunter’s voice was smooth, like the lines of sheet music. “Merely, I wanted to explore. I’m sure none of us know this map very well…”
“True, true. I’m glad we could have a nice match, though! This place isn’t very good for my skills.” Anne smiled, pulling out one of her toys and messing with it a bit.
“Yes, I noticed. Felt a bit bad, too.” Antonio spoke, his voice in a sing-song. “Though, I suppose we’re all lucky this map isn’t chosen often.”
Norton simply listened to their conversation, not really knowing quite what to say. His body leaned on the piano in the middle of the room, not caring about the dust that covered it.
Soon, Naib and Helena joined them, her cane making tell-tale tapping noises. Helena said hello, the hunter returning the greeting. Asking her what her favorite classical piece is.
Norton stopped listening after that, turning his attention to the mercenary.
“Hey, man.”
“Hey.”
“You wanna look around? Explore a bit… I never play this one.”
Naib widened his eyes, eyebrows perking then lowering. A quick gesture.
“Sure, sure yeah.” He answered. “I don’t know my way around here either.”
The asylum didn’t get any warmer, as much as Norton had hoped. He wasn’t a fan of cold places, they dulled senses, blued fingers. Hated them, even. He crossed his arms.
“What, you cold?” Naib asked, as if he had read his mind. Though, it was more probable that he read his body language. He was always so good at that.
“Yeah, actually. I don’t have like twelve layers on right now.”
Naib laughed the way Norton liked, but Naib didn’t know that.
“C’mon, you basically watch me put this on, you know that's an over exaggeration.”
“Yeah, doesn’t mean my boob window is any smaller.”
Naib laughed again, quieter this time. Soon, he shucked off his outer jacket, placing it on the taller man’s back and patting it.
“There, if it’ll stop your complaining.” The mercenary’s voice was littered with amusement.
“Actually, thanks man.” Norton looked at him, fully. Naib’s blue eyes sure were pretty.
“Oh uh, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.” Naib’s voice had suddenly turned uncertain, breaking his eye contact in favor of staring at the floor.
The jacket was warm, smelling of some old cologne Norton couldn’t place. Norton swallowed, looking to the end of the hall in front of both of them.
Naib felt a hand on his, and though it was hesitant, it was also bold.
“Huh?”
“So we don’t get lost,” Norton answered, not looking at him the way he was a minute or two ago. Naib wished he was. Naib’s initial shock had died down, his gloved hand tightening around the others. Yeah, he was fine with this. He was, since it was Norton. He was.