Chapter Text
That bleak, dull night began like any other. Cold and rainy, it was the perfect night for someone's entire life to be flipped upside down.
Rain pattered against the paned windows of Paradox City Historical Museum. The exhibits loomed statically, resting now that the patrons of the day had gone. It was dark, shadows curling up around every corner and pathway. Dust swam in the air, having been disturbed by passing footsteps.
One would think this place would be dead quiet, but instead one very-much-alive Aradia Megido was ranting into her walkie-talkie about mummification. She's passed the Ancient Egypt exhibit, like, three times already, she can't resist!
"--so the first step would be to remove every single organ from the body. The organs in the torso were no problem, just a simple surgery, but the brain was another story. They used a sort of rod through the cadaver's nose to add brain-liquifying chemicals, and then they could just... pour the brain out! Then, of course, came the embalming-- isn't it just so cool?"
Karkat, on the other end, gives a long, irritated groan. "Oh my god, Aradia. Can you please focus on your damn job for once? We're on a tight schedule here," he grumbles, voice obscured in walkie-talkie fuzz.
Aradia crinkles her nose and turns down the volume on the worn transciever as a silent revenge, but also ceases her infodumping. She resumes walking her patrol.
She completes her fourth loop-around of the museum grounds and stops right before the Piracy hall where her brother, Karkat, is working. The night-guard, still bound and unconcious, sits about a meter from him. The Arachnid's Grip's latest heist is going perfectly to plan, unfortunately.
Aradia thinks she should put a word in with Eightball about not targeting the museum so much. It's such a nice place-- she wouldn't want it to shut down.
She flinches when she spots a figure in the opposite end of the hall, but relaxes when it is just Terezi. Their lax pace tells her that it's probably as uneventful over on the west wing, too.
"All clear?" they check.
"Completely. I think Stray is almost done with the case, too."
"Great. I am so damn ready to go home," Terezi mumbles. Aradia takes a moment to peer a little further into the hall to catch a glimpse of the display case Karkat is trying to pick.
Inside the case, locked behind four high-quality, high-security locks, is the Pequod, a model ship cast in pure gold as a garish display of wealth by some long-since dead pirate captain. Studded with jewels and beads, it was thought lost to time when the vessel carrying it was sunk by a rival crew. Eventually, the wreckage was found and the Pequod recovered.
...It really looks like a lumpy gray blob, in all honesty. Sure, it may be the can't-see-colors-yet thing, but the craftsmanship (ha) is just not there.
Aradia lets her mind wander for a minute as she procrastinates on running another patrol, but catches herself when it drifts to the idea of soulmates again. It's been happening a lot lately, weirdly. She isn't exactly sure why, as it isn't like it's her favorite topic in the world. You meet some random person, suddenly see in full color, and they fall in love with you... why? Because they have to? It doesn't sound all that appealing, honestly. She sighs, and just decides to move on.
She and Terezi are about to start their fifth laps when Terezi freezes, giving her a signal to do the same. Their ears twitch, and they take a deep breath to smell the air. Their super-heightened senses have picked something up.
"Karkat, stop," they whisper.
"One second, I'm almost there--"
"Karkat!"
A flash of darkness sweeps over the central skylight, startling him into dropping his lock picks. The following thump on the roof is almost too quiet for them to hear.
"Ugh, I can't pick up who they sent this time." Synesthesia, or Terezi as Aradia knows them, has an incredibly heightened sense of smell and taste after years of training post being rendered legally blind. They typically can tell which heroes are approaching by smell, such as apples for Red Knight or lavender for Bittersweet. Someone new seems to have visited them today.
Aradia takes out her battered whip and ties it into a lasso. "I'll handle it."
She casts it up to latch onto one of the rafters and swings herself up closer to the roof. She lands on the wooden beam easily.
"Whoa, whoa, wait." Karkat looks up from the case, worried. "All by yourself?"
Aradia softens a little bit. He's been a total dick all night, sure, but he's still technically her little brother. Even if he won't show it, he'll still worry about her.
"I'll be fine!" she calls down. "Keep working, okay?"
As he scrambles to do so, she moves over to where the angled rafter meets the ceiling. In their world, the supernatural is only about as rare as red hair. She guesses there must be some satisfaction for those who gained their supernatural gifts through training, like Terezi. There may even be some satisfaction to getting by without any powers at all, like Karkat.
However, what she finds the most satisfying is the wave of pure, icy cold that passes through her as she simply phases through the ceiling and crawls up to the roof.
She got this gift from her mother: the ability to pass through solid matter. The Grip even nicknamed her 'Phantom' because of it, a name she's only kind of grown to like. This ability remains one of her most important skills in her line of criminal work, getting them in and out of many tricky situations.
Now, Phantom hides behind a ventilation unit and peers across the rooftop, icy rain hitting her face.
A few meters away stands a hero she hasn't yet seen before. He must be out of his district, then? He's a somewhat tall troll with horns much too big for his head (doesn't his neck hurt?).
The most noticeable feature of his, though, is a set of large, glittering dragonfly wings stretching out behind him. They buzz a little whenever the rain hits them. Even without color, she's kind of mesmerized by the way they sparkle in the moonlight.
He turns a little, and she ducks back behind the vent. Focus, damn it. She grips her lasso tightly, forcing herself to start thinking of some way to take him down.
She can't let this mission go awry. She doesn't know what Eightball will do to them if it does.
The hero moves just a little closer to the skylight, and Aradia takes her chance. Like a blur, she lassoes around one of his bull-like horns and drags him back towards her to engage him. She really did intend to fend him off...
... but her vision goes white.
She wobbles on her feet, blinking away the spots in her vision. When she comes to, they're face to face, frozen. She can't think. She just takes in his deep brown eyes, copper freckles, bronze wings...
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no.
She backpedals. He could've whisked her away to the police station hundreds of times by now. She wouldn't have even put up a fight, really. Instead, he just stares at her like he's enraptured. Like she's something beautiful. It's too warm, all of a sudden.
She has to leave, she has to leave-- she has to get out of here.
She yanks her lasso off of his horn and phases back through the ceiling as fast as she can. She only hears half a syllable of his cry for her to wait. Latching her lasso onto a rafter and hanging from it, she calls out to the others.
"We have to leave, right now!"
"What? Why--" Terezi starts before being shrilly cut off by the alarm systems turning on. All the motion on the roof must have triggered a sensor.
Aradia drops to the floor and starts sprinting for the exit with the others on autopilot.
"What the hell happened?" Karkat yells out, catching a door with his paw before it auto-shuts. Aradia says nothing, instead bolting through the door and shouldering open one leading to the outside.
When all three of them are out, they hop the chain-link fence-- Aradia just phases through-- and keep going. They don't stop running until they reach an alleyway a few blocks away. They duck into it, Aradia checking the sky to see if that hero flew after them. She sees nothing.
Karkat slumps against a wall, catching his breath.
"How's that for an escape?" He grins. He's always had a thing for the 'coolness' of their stunts, hearkening to that idealized version of a leader he wants to be so badly. No one seems to have the heart to tell him otherwise.
Terezi instead puts their head in their paws.
"Vriska is going to be so pissed." Karkat's smile falls.
To the side, Aradia catches her breath in silence. Oh no, is all she can think. Oh god, no. Even the newfound color of her teammates' outfits doesn't stir her out of her thoughts.
She didn't want a soulmate. She doesn't want a soulmate now. And a hero? Someone literally paid to put her and her family behind bars? She can't help but think that fate has it out for her.
She thinks about what would happen if she told anyone. Her teammates feeling betrayed, her mother disowning her... Vriska would probably kill her. Eightball has never been above murder; some would say she is far, far below it. This team is barely held together as it is. If she reveals this, it may be the straw that breaks the humpbeast's back.
Looking back to her teammates arguing over how to break the news of tonight's failure to their boss, she makes a decision.
They won't know. No one will know.
... Maybe her best friend Sollux will know, but that's it. He isn't a part of their team anyways, and she has to have someone to tell.
She eventually finds her voice and interrupts the other two as they bicker.
"Let's just go home already."
The others deflate from their arguing, immediately looking even more exhausted. Gathering themselves up, they begin the long trek across town back to their base.
Aradia does look back at the museum one last time, but she can't see any trace of bronze. Probably for the best, she supposes.
-~-
At last, the sun begins to rise.
The rain finally begins to clear up, the clouds making way for the day's bright sky. The last few sprinkles of icy rain sting Tavros' wings as he stands shell-shocked on the roof of Paradox City Historical Museum.
After what had just happened, he couldn't think enough to pursue the villains as he watched them flee. What would he even do? What would he even say? He had to let his mind run on autopilot for a bit just to get his job done.
He went through his usual rounds-- untying the security guard, giving a statement to the authorities, contacting the museum's curator-- but he kept getting distracted every time he saw the color red.
They couldn't help but think back to ram's horns, a lasso dragging them down by the horns, staring up into burgundy-red, flat-pupil eyes... they'd never seen an eye mutation quite like them. In that moment, they could hardly think about anything else.
It also kept crossing his mind how... scared she looked. She didn't seem scared of him, per se, but of something else. It makes his stomach turn and he doesn't understand why.
As they wait for the curator to arrive, Tavros resists the urge to pace. The clouds are nearly gone now, showcasing all the brilliant colors of their first real sunrise. Pinks and oranges and yellows radiate out from the rising sun like a glowing beacon, somehow made entirely new. Tavros gazes out at the city they've known their whole life and marvels at all the colors two-thirds of its population can't even see.
The old curator finally shows up, still in his nightclothes. He starts rambling out thank-yous like Tavros just saved his cat from a tree and not like he prevented a felony.
Tavros stands straighter, shifting into his 'confident superhero' persona. "You really don't have to thank me sir, this is my job."
"No, no, young man. By protecting this here museum, you protect the very culture of Paradox City! Now, you said those blasted ruffians ran off?"
They grimace. "Well, yes, but your security team said they've accounted for everything inside. One case had a few locks undone, but the object inside was intact."
The curator twirls his well-kept mustache as he listens. Then, from the side entrance, a member of the security team calls for him, saying that the locksmith is there to assess the damage.
"Oh! Well, I must be off. Thank you once again, Mr. Bad Blood," he says, shaking one of Tavros' paws with both of his hands.
"Just Bad Blood is fine," he replies awkwardly.
Tavros pretends not to hear the curator as he walks off muttering about how he wishes all those 'hooligan trolls' would be as 'civilized' as he is. He doesn't really derive any joy from being considered one of the 'good ones', but that's an issue for another day, perhaps.
Their shoulders slump down when they drop the confident act. They were always told to 'fake it 'til you make it,' but how long does it take to actually make it? Their wings buzz impatiently.
At long last, when all his tasks are done, he starts to fly back to Moons, his borough of Paradox City. Even though he is seriously tired, he takes a sort of looping, longer path back home.
The sky rapidly fades from pink to blue... the verdant green of the park takes form... and hundreds of shades and colors of the billboards, cars, streets, and the city all shine back up to him.
It's beautiful, totally juxtaposed with how uneasy it makes him. It's a weird kind of feeling.
Tavros lands on the roof of his apartment building. Habitually, he finds his secret stash of clothes to cover up his hero uniform and wings. Once inside and heading to his floor, he finally lets his mind wander like it has been desperately trying to all morning.
He didn't want a soulmate. He's still... shaken by his last relationship, to put it mildly. He doesn't think he could handle another one just yet. Besides, it isn't like anything would actually work; she's a criminal! He could excuse a little shoplifting, but thieving from a museum? That just goes too far.
Then, they remember her face and get confused all over again. They know they aren't intimidating, so why would she be afraid?
His keys jingle in the lock, the Clefairy keychain smiling up at him innocently. He's too damn tired for this.
They walk into their small apartment. Meowing loud enough to be heard from the next room, their hairless cat, Arturo, bounds up to them.
Tavros lifts him up in their arms, baby-talking nonsense while Arturo purrs away like Tavros has been gone for a year. He thought for a while that he could never get a cat because of his horrible allergy to them, but when this guy wouldn't let go of him at a shelter, he just had to take him home. And lo and behold! No hair, no allergies. A match made in heaven.
Speaking of matchmaking and cats, Tavros thinks of a certain friend of his that will be overjoyed by the news that he found his soulmate. It'll probably do him some good to talk about this before he crashes, he thinks.
He sets down the cat and plops down on the couch, pulling out his phone.
[adiosToreador began pestering arsenicCatnip at 5:42.]
at: hI NEPETA, sORRY, i KNOW ITS EARLY, bUT IF YOU HAVE A FREE MINUTE COULD WE TALK,
at: i HAVE AMBIGUOUSLY RATED NEWS TO SHARE,
They surprise him by responding almost immediately.
ac: :33< hi tabby!! dont worry i was already up whats the mews?
at: oK, sO UM,
at: i MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE FOUND MY SOULMATE TODAY,
ac: :DD< AAAAAAAIEIFIFHEBEJS TABBY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ac: :33< tabbyros omg omg
ac: :33< whats their name howd mew meet!!
at: wELL, uH, hERE COMES THE AMBIGUOUSITY IN NEWS RATING,
at: i DONT KNOW HER NAME,
ac: :33< what?
at: i UM, mET HER ON A CALL, aND SHE WAS WHAT I WAS CALLED TO STOP,
at: nEPETA I BELIEVE SHE IS A CRIMINAL,
Meow reads the message, but takes a long time typing purr reply. The "[AC] is typing..." bubble pops in and out a few times before they actually say anything.
ac: :33< well i am not so sure that its the end of the world!
ac: :33< whats more impurrtant? one or two feliney charges? or love ~~~
at: tHE FELONY CHARGES,
at: aND BESIDES, i DONT THINK ANY LOVE WILL HAPPEN ANY TIME SOON, oR AT ALL,
at: i DO NOT THINK,,, i AM READY YET, fOR ANYTHING OF THAT KIND,
ac: :((< oh, right.
ac: :((< i get that...
at: aND WHEN SHE LOOKED AT ME IT JUST,
at: sHE LOOKED TERRIFIED, nEPETA,
at: aND YOU KNOW I AM NOT FRIGHTENING,
ac: :33< hmmm.
ac: :33< maybe she looked scared because she felt guilty? maybe shes just in a bad crowd and doesnt like purreaking the law.
ac: :33< or maybe she was mewnipulated into it?
at: mAYBE, i DONT KNOW,
at: sHE, uH, fELL THROUGH THE CEILING BEFORE I COULD SAY ANYTHING,
ac: :33< she what.
at: fELL THROUGH THE CEILING,
at: i GUESS ITS A POWER OF HERS?
ac: :33< thats
ac: :33< so interesting
at: iS EVERYTHING OK?
ac: :33< yeah um i am just. trying to figure out how that would work
at: yEAH, i GUESS IT IS KIND OF CONFUSING,,,
Nepeta types and deletes whatever it was that meow was writing so much that Tavros nearly falls asleep. It takes a good five minutes before another message shows up.
ac: :33< look tabbyros.
ac: :33< i know this purrobably isnt what you wanted. but i dont think mewr soulmate is what you think if her face is anything to go by.
ac: :33< i think mew should at least try just one confursation. just so mew two arent total strangers!
ac: :33< i think it could be good for both of mew.
at: i GUESS, tHAT DOES MAKE SENSE,
at: tHANK YOU NEPETA,
ac: :33< of course! what are furiends fur :33
at: }:))
at: i THINK I AM GOING TO GO TO BED NOW, i HAVE BEEN AWAKE FOR 28 HOURS AT THIS POINT,
ac: :33< okay goodnight!!! or morning!!!
at: gOODBYE, tHANK YOU AGAIN,
[adiosToreador ceased pestering arsenicCatnip at 6:04.]
Tavros, putting away his phone, goes into his room to get out of uniform. Nepeta is... a confusing individual. They live in Paradox City too, but the two of them have never met in person because of Nepeta's weird night-shift job. Tavros still isn't entirely sure what they even do.
Confusing or not, meow does tend to give very good advice. He'll try purr idea, even if he's getting nervous just thinking about it. For now, he just flops on his bed and tries to get some sleep.
He falls asleep quickly, having dreams that he won't remember about red and ram's eyes.