Chapter Text
Belobog had slowly begun to heal.
It would be long work. Grueling. The city’s leadership had taken the Nameless’ warnings seriously: change would come slowly. Serval had already voiced doubted that they would see the retreat of the freeze in their lifetime. To Gepard, it was enough to hold regular meetings in which he and Pela were able to report that they had lost no new ground in the intervening weeks: the first news of its kind in years.
Fewer funerals for men and women dying far too young holding back Fragmentum. Fewer condolence letters to leave his desk.
As the city grieved one Supreme Guardian and welcomed another, the signs of hope returning was like a weight from the collective shoulders of the people. Tension between Overworld and Underworld was not something so easily wiped away, of course, but that battlefront was also not without its own progress. Wildfire and the Silvermane Guards had already begun the slow work of learning to integrate efforts to disperse aid, calm hearts, and root out those who would wish harm on a recovering populace.
Nevertheless, that work, too, would be slow and was already not without its stumbles. There were those who disagreed with Lady Bronya’s ascension. Others found Wildfire and the Silvermane Guards’ partnership offensive–dismissive of years of tension between the Overworld and Underworld. The business with the IPC had put everyone on alert, with first signs of true tension between Bronya and Seele, among their own circle, seeming strange and uncomfortable thing to navigate for a time despite the duo coming away stronger for it. A new underworld element had since cropped up from seemingly nowhere, it’s roots strangely deep and difficult to track. In the wake of Sampo’s full pardon, Pela had even suggested fighting fire with fire. Gepard himself had hesitated at the idea but had come around eventually when the criminal elements escalated well past theft and petty crime into something far worse.
This time, a handful of Underworlders had been discovered deep in the mines. Despite the general lack of theft, Pela had reason to believe they’d been killed to cover something up. What, they couldn’t yet say, however, but the strange wounds connected them to other smaller, similar incidents around the city.
It had been the one mark against an otherwise positive meeting. Pela only expected the damage to get worse. At this point, Gepard was willing to try nearly anything reasonable–even Sampo. If Bronya trusted him enough to gamble on a pardon based on the merits of his work in the Stelleron Crisis, Gepard would, in turn, trust her guidance and Seele’s gut.
The issue was that Sampo Koski had not been seen in nearly three months.
They knew he was alive, at least. He answered his phone, according to Natasha–sporadically and seemingly at random.
Seele had texted once with an offer of a frankly inordinate sum of shields in exchange for information. She’d only received a “brb, fam”.
That was six weeks ago.
No one had heard from Sampo since.
Sighing, Gepard settled in on the couch of his apartment and opened his phone. A text from Lynx came with a photo of the sunset over the Snow Planes and a reminder to water his flowers. Another from Serval reminded him of a concert he’d agreed to attend and a confirmation that Captain Dunn would be joining them as well. Both brought a faint smile as he slowly allowed the tension to bleed from his shoulders. It was always a slow thing to happen–starting with his arrival home and the removal of his armor. Putting away his shield generator and gauntlet always left him feeling more bare than he liked for a time–more so since Several’s ingenuity had replaced the hand he had lost on the front line with something built for protecting Belobog and its people. The quiet ritual of dinner and catching up on his messages tended to ease him back into the transition to his home life.
Tonight, however, before he set his phone down to pick up his mug, he hesitated. With a sudden motion, he flipped his thumb against the back button and opened a new message. Another moment of hesitation. He stared at the screen, lips thinning. Did he…?
He was the only one who hadn’t tried the number Seele had furiously disbursed around a group chat two months before. Even Lady Bronya had tried with an offer of a tentative contract with the con artist. Apparently she had received the name of a restaurant in the Underworld with a note of what was supposedly Seele’s favorite dish (apparently she hated the dish in question) and a comment of “VERY valuable intel, am I right???”
Gepard Landau was the last person Sampo Koski would answer, right?
Years of chasing the conman through the streets of the city. Years of Sampo picking at every little imperfection Gepard tried to keep at a respectable distance from his work.
He’d debated trying a number of times. In truth, pardon or no–frustrating or not–Gepard wished the man no true ill will. Arresting him for the laundry list of crimes he’d committed? Certainly. Finally reaching a goal he wasn’t entirely certain he would ever catch? Satisfying.
Three months missing without hide nor hair of the man showing anywhere was beginning to grow beyond alarming.
Squaring his shoulders, he mustered the same stubborn determination that served him well enough on the front lines, tapped his thumb against the screen, and input the number. The screen made him pause. Did he point out that Seele and Nastasha were worried? Surely Sampo knew as much. Much as Seele attempted to hide that concern under anger, no one was fooled. If Gepard could read it easily enough, Koski would certainly know.
No, that didn’t seem like the right answer.
Was there a right answer?
With Sampo, he wasn’t entirely sure.
Lips pursing, for the first time in a long time, he let his fingers slide across the screen, pressing send before he could think better of it.
Sampo
Certified ancient relic agent
—----------------------------------
[Gepard]
I’m aware this is a strange question given our history.
But you’re a citizen of Belobog, so I must ask.
Are you safe?
He wasn’t surprised when no dots signaled Sampo typing nor the turn of the message having been read. The handful of replies that had come through had taken days, as he understood it. Setting the phone down, he instead reached for his mug.
After he finished it, he would take Lynx’s reminder and check on his flowers.
Sampo Koski was hardly going to text him back of all people, after all.
Sampo Koski texted back within the hour.
The unexpected notification nearly startled Gepard into reflexively tossing a half-cleaned spoon at the thing. Fortunately, his ritual held well enough. The few seconds it took to wipe his hands clean of dishwater let him wrack his brain for any messages he might’ve forgotten to expect, but… No. Nothing.
Sampo’s name and grinning icon plastered across the screen left him staring, motionless, for far longer than it should have. Had Gepard caught him at a good time, or…?
Or did he actually need help only to wait three months for someone to ask him directly?
Frowning, he flicked the lock screen open, heart rate rising as if in anticipation for a fight.
Was Sampo in trouble? Had the newest criminal element in Belobog run him underground? They were far more violent than the conman had ever dreamed of being. Had–
Sampo
Certified ancient relic agent
—----------------------------------
[Gepard]
I’m aware this is a strange question given our history.
But you are a citizen of Belobog, so I must ask.
Are you in danger?
[Sampo]
Aw such a gentleman geppie!
Do you say this to all the acquitted boys???
Or am I special?
Gepard’s lips tightened, a frown painting itself into the pinch of his brow. Sitting briefly at the table, he placed his phone down to shrug the kitchen towel off his arm before answering.
[Gepard]
A pardon is not an acquittal.
Don’t call me that.
I’m serious about the question.
…To his surprise, the message updated to ‘read’ almost immediately. The dots signaling Sampo’s reply prompted him to leave the thread open as he waited. What was the point of being so evasive if nothing was wrong? To be an annoyance? This had gone quite a bit beyond that, in Gepard’s opinion. Seele’s concern had taken on enough of an edge that Natasha had bid her to “give Sampo some space if that's what he’s looking for.” Lady Bronya had mentioned once that Seele hadn’t tried messaging him again after that. What excuse could possibly make up for leaving people who cared with nothing?
Was Sampo the kind of man who needed space? He certainly had been happy to invade Gepard’s the past several years.
Asking what had changed seemed like a silly exercise in the face of everything they had faced in the past year. What hadn’t seemed a more apt question.
[Sampo]
Same difference
That was not a line of quantifiably false reasoning that Gepard felt like correcting. It was a blatant diversion at best, and he wouldn’t fall for it. Instead, he waited for the message Sampo was busy typing to come through.
[Sampo]
If I was would you come dashing to my rescue?
[Sticker: PomPomQuestion]
…He was fine if he had it in him to tease Gepard like this. Surely. Even without that theatrical tone right in front of him, he could practically hear it–see the infuriating wink that would be thrown over Sampo’s shoulder as he ran off around some corner and disappeared.
And yet…
His fingers stilled over the keys.
In a battle between honesty or pride? Gepard would personally always choose the former.
[Gepard]
Yes.
His instinct was to explain: to reiterate that Sampo was now, technically, an innocent civilian and, therefore, under the protection of the Silvermane Guards. That Gepard had sworn an oath to protect the people of the city, regardless of their history and crimes regardless. That he would not see a man harmed he’d spent years around in some capacity, who had somehow notably never raised a hand to the guards chasing him through the streets.
He suspected Sampo might have been waiting for something like that, too, given the pause in reply. For once, the burn of satisfaction bloomed in his chest as he sat back, shoulders lifting with a flicker of pride. Maybe he had finally been the one to trip up Sampo Koski for once.
It took longer this time for the typing icon to appear.
[Sampo]
Does ms Seele have you at scythe point??
Maybe YOU need a dashing rescue
You can tell your ol pal Sampo
This is a safe space
This time, Gepard didn’t need to think on his reply.
[Gepard]
You wouldn’t be answering me if you really thought that, would you?
It wasn’t hard to imagine the laughter he thought that might have earned. Strange, that he could read that, at least. Then again, Sampo had always seemed to find it funny when Gepard’s frustration had pushed him past the proper decorum of a guard and into something more direct and dry. Sure enough, the reply came faster this time.
[Sampo]
I just got acquitted
Don’t frame an innocent man
Say
How’d you get my number anyway
Did you…
Steal it????
:0 Captain landau
I am SHOCKED
And impressed
;)
He was deflecting, wasn’t he? Gepard should’ve been used to it by that point. Fine. At least he seemed to get enough joy out of pushing Gepard to stay on the phone. That… might have spoken of more safety than Gerpard had feared initially. Still…
[Gepard]
Koski.
Do you need help or not?
This time, the typing icon started briefly, paused entirely, and started again. The pattern repeated enough times that Gepard eventually gave up long enough to let his phone screen go dark and instead go back to cleaning up the mess he’d left in his sink. By the time he finished, he checked his phone again, only to see the typing icon had stopped completely.
Frowning, he tried to squash the flicker of disappointment and confusion before it fully settled. He was used to it, he supposed. Even technically at a truce, it seemed Sampo Koski’s back was one he would not catch up to quite so easily.
By the time he finally received another reply, the faint, warm street lights of the Administrative District spilled through his bedroom window as Gepard readied for bed. Pulling the curtain closed, he didn’t startle this time as his text notification went off. He did, however, wait to change and settle into bed before he picked up his phone again.
[Sampo]
You cant help me captain
Gepard sucked in a breath through his teeth.
Cold dread settled like a weight in his chest. All too easily, he could feel the harsh cold and warm blood against his good hand. Hear the ‘ He’s gone. Captain, he’s gone . You can’t help him now,’ at his side.
This was not the front lines, he reminded himself. Sampo was hardly a Silvermane recruit. Gepard was in his home getting ready for bed. The reminder helped a bit in forcing his rigid body to unlock in slow pieces. Shoulders first. Arms next. Back and legs.
He barely noticed Sampo’s next texts come through.
[Sampo]
Youre not very good at hide and seek
Haven't caught me once, have you?
Me on the other hand?
Ive learned from the hide and seek champions of belobog~
He hardly meant to let the message sit so long, but he found himself staring at the last text for perhaps too long. By the time the typing icon returned, he had only just realized nearly twenty minutes had passed with naught but a dull buzz in the back of his head.
[Sampo]
Dont worry
Youll see ol Sampo’s face again soon~
Just looking for something somebody misplaced for me
He should make a comment about the irony of Sampo Koski finally getting a taste of his own medicine–pardon or not. At the least, he should inquire about the nature of the missing item and how, exactly, it had gone missing. With Sampo, a missing item may very well be some important relic. He did none of those things.
Instead, his fingers hovered over the screen, mind blank with ice and fragmentum.
[Sampo]
Geppie?
U asleep??
…Strange that Sampo was suddenly the one attempting to extend the conversation, wasn’t it? Forcing his lids to blink, he sat up if only to keep himself moving. That personally helped more than anything with these episodes.
[Gepard]
If you get into trouble, you should report it to me.
To avoid another criminal record, if nothing else.
I can help you… if what you’re doing is legal.
Perhaps a cup of warm tea would ease his nerves and help him relax again. Sighing, he pushed the blankets fully aside and unplugged his phone. The shadows down the hall gave him little pause within the familiar layout. The ghosts that lived with Gepard were not ones that hid in the dark anyway. His phone went off again, tucked in the pocket of his pyjamas, but he waited until he had water heating to check it.
[Sampo]
[Photo-Image]
Frowning, Gepard, leaned his back against the counter and flicked the screen to unlock it. The image that greeted him was… certainly not Belogbog. Heart speeding up for an entirely different reason, he double tapped the image to enlarge it.
The window featuring the largest swath of the frame was likely massive. Outside it, the world was dark as night, painted in the dancing speckles of what could only have been stars. The angle of the phone and lighting lent itself to the faintest glimpses of what lay behind the camera: the warm light of a plush room that looked almost as though it would have been at home in the wealthiest portions of the Administrative District, should red, black, and gold have been in current fashion in the Overworld rather than blues and whites. In the reflection, the side of a head of dark hair and a familiar green eye lurked, bracketed by a tall booth seat and a drink sitting on an otherwise empty table.
[Sampo]
Gonna to chase me out into the stars now captain?
…Sampo was not on Jarilo-IV at all, was he? Likely hadn’t been for months. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising, considering off-world traffic had slowly begun to return to the planet. With the skills the conman had shown running from Gepard himself, surely smuggling himself onto a ship offworld wouldn’t be so difficult.
Setting his phone down for a moment, he instead pulled the water off of the heat to let the tea steep. Asking where Sampo was would be another useless run in circles. Even if he actually answered, Gepard wouldn’t have any context for the wealth of worlds out among the stars. In truth, Gepard wasn’t even sure why he was indulging the captain in this circular game.
Perhaps time for a different tactic then. If Gepard’s unfiltered text had gotten a response in the first place…
[Gepard]
It looks lonely.
Lonely in the way the Snow Plains looked, bathed in nothing but white, wind, and Fragmentum monsters potentially lurking over each hill and valley. Alien in a way Gepard had never once dreamed of knowing. Home had seemed so very far away on the front lines. He had no idea how it would feel if home were only the tiniest of specks glowing outside of a window in the shadows.
[Sampo]
Aw nah
I make friends easy
Look at me making a friend now!
Who’d’ve thought it huh?
[Gepard]
Who would’ve thought.
[Sampo]
:)
Grabbing his mug, he only noticed the faint hint of a smile, strange though it was. Hard to put their history behind them, of course, but well…
It had been a long time since Gepard had broken his nightly routine with company–even worlds away–on the other side of the line. Perhaps the strange singularity that was somehow keeping the longest conversation anyone had managed with the conman in months had an odd place of its own. After all, it wasn’t every day that Gepard was the one who managed something uniquely his off of the battlefield.
On a whim, as he settled back down at the table, he leaned forward to pull open the curtain, letting the warm street lights of Geomarrow heaters and streetlights spill into the otherwise dark room. Lifting his phone, he snapped a picture pointed down the street towards the main plaza, just out of view in the distance.
[Gepard]
[Photo-Image]
[Sampo]
Well now I know where you live
And that your neighbor forgot to take her laundry in
[Gepard]
Nothing you can do about it from wherever you are.
[Sampo]
:0
So mean to your poor ol pal Sampo…
I shouldve bothered you after hours YEARS ago
Mr squeaky clean guard captain
Youve got some bite in there after all dont you?
Rolling his eyes, Gepard sipped at his drink and watched the last few pedestrians returning home from their nights out. He’d heard the Underworld remained open later. Other districts of the Overworld tended to stay open later, too, but that wasn’t much the case so close to the main plaza. The warmth of the mug seeped through the bones of his fingers and deep into his chest. One foot idly tapped under the table to one of his sister’s songs sliding gently through his thoughts.
[Gepard]
I’m not the one who went missing right after I was pardoned.
He hesitated, but, ultimately, it was the memory of Seele’s bunched brow and Natasha’s carefully unbothered features that did him in. He’d never been good at espionage and double meanings. Shields were good for war, and Gepard had never been much use beyond that: not like his clever sisters. He didn’t especially mind, of course; he was terribly proud of them in his own quiet way. He’d found a place for himself he could be satisfied with regardless.
[Gepard]
Natasha and Seele are concerned.
Just checking in would be enough.
It would mean a lot to them to know you're safe.
The messages marked ‘read’ almost immediately. Gepard wasn’t the only one sitting at a table with a drink and phone open to their chat screen. This time, however, no reply icon showed with the same expediency as before. With a dull, unsurprised pang, he nonetheless left the thread open for convenience on his remaining hand as he sipped his tea. He might’ve wondered if he’d forgotten the nature of the man he’s spoken to if he felt confident that he fully understood it at all to begin with.
The screen dulled in idle. He nearly finished his tea, setting the near-empty mug back down in the sink. The reply icon appeared as he picked his phone back up and made to turn the screen off.
[Sampo]
Well if youre really asking…
I could cut you a bargain
Since its you captain and you go WAY back with your ol pal Sampo
[Gepard]
Koski, I’m serious.
[Sampo]
One teeny tiny little favor and im your man
Your very very responsible communicative man
Deal?
[Gepard]
Is it not enough that they're worried about your safety?
[Sampo]
Cmon
Hear me out~
[Gepard]
What do you want?
[Sampo]
When I get back buy me dinner
…The annoyed bunch at Gepard’s brow faded into surprise. Whatever he had expected… that was not it. An unnamed favor to be repaid at the time of Sampo’s choosing? Sure. A promise to look the other way just one time pretty please~ , he imagined. Not… this.
[Gepard]
…That’s it?
[Sampo]
What dyou mean thats it??
Yknow youre really not supposed to say that when youre negotiating
Lets people know youve got deeper pockets than youre letting on
Thats okay
Lucky for your ol pal sampo’s a generous guy
Gave you a free tip and everything
Yup
Dinner
Nice dinner
Thats what i want
…Koski was an innocent man now, technically. It would cause a stir, but little about Gepard’s less-than-booming social life did these days when he actually went somewhere other than the front lines. He was slowly growing used to it again with the extra time the end of the Stelleron business had bought him in the city. In terms of earning Seele and Natasha a bit of peace?
[Gepard]
Deal.