Chapter Text
If you told Branzy Craft that his night shift as a librarian would end with him scrubbing blood off the floors, he would have laughed and called you crazy, however he cannot do either of those things considering he's busy scrubbing blood out of the floor.
“I cannot believe this is how my night ends’” He groans out.
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A voice interrupts his mad scribbling “Alright, I'm heading out.” Branzy pauses and looks up from his sketchbook.
“You”ll be fine with closing by yourself right?” Skip asks, he's already up and by the door.
“Yeah, yeah, just get home safely, Skip.” Branzy sighs out and brings a hand up and rests his head on it. While glancing back down to his schematics.
“Oh don't forget to move the new stock to the back, and don't worry about sorting it too much, tomorrow's shift has that figured out. Just make sure to at least label the crates.” With a wave Skip exits the building.
He glances at the clock and with a sigh Branzy stands up to stretch. Might as well start packing up, Branzy muses to himself while reaching down to close his sketchbook. He pauses, and leans down to inspect his work a little more thoroughly.
He thinks he has enough material at home to at least start this new project by Friday. The only thing he's missing is a few gears, which he can probably pick up from the junkyard on Thursday. Branzy shakes his head, he has to focus and put the stock away so he can hurry up and get home.
He grabs his bag to bring it closer and places the book in.
Branzy does a once over at his corner of the reception desk and with a shrug he deems it to be clean enough. He gets up and makes his way around the desk to the back doors where the crates are stored.
Upon seeing the stacks Branzy lets out a tired sigh, not like he has anything better to do after this. Branzy rolls up his sleeves slightly past his elbows, might as well make all that lifting in the junkyard worth something. He rolls his shoulder and grabs one of the crates.
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By time he's on the second last crate Branzy's already got a somewhat flow going on.
Lift the crate, carry it to the back, place it in an empty shelf space, take a glance at contents of books in the crate, grab the label gun, and label. It's kind of therapeutic.
However as Branzy is flattening the sticker label out on the current crate he hears the entrance bells chime, the telltale sign a customer has walked in.
Which is odd since technically the store is supposed to be closed. On top of the fact it's around 11 o'clock. Seriously tho? Who goes to a bookstore at 11 at night? Praying that maybe Skip forgot something. Banzy stands up and heads to the door connecting the back room and reception desk.
“Hey, uh sorry we’re closed-” Branzy trails off once he finally gets a proper look at who walked in. There's no way right? Maybe he needs more sleep because Branzy swears that Farceur like THE Farceur, as in number one notorious villain Farceur is bleeding over the reception desk right now.
He blinks once, twice, and suddenly there's chills running down his spine. The villain was now directly looking at him.
The jestered dressed villain raises his scythe towards Branzy.
And hey maybe Branzy should be a lot more scared.
But it's kinda hard to feel intimidated when the guy is currently leaned over your work desk. Looking somewhat pathetic, not that Branzy would ever say that out loud, gods no he did not have a death wish.
“You.” The villain seethed out, while hardening his grip on the handle of his scythe.
If anybody asks Branzy did NOT squeak he just made a less than manly sound is all. However Branzy doesn't even have time to process if he should be scared or embarrassed because after the villain spoke he also immediately went limp.
The Villain's body began to slide off the desks “Uh- wah, hey?!’’ Branzy steps forward and reaches an arm out, before he abruptly remembers that this is in fact a super villain.
He takes a step back unsure what to do, when the villain's body proceeds to fall to the floor with a thump.
Ah screw it! I hate being a good person. Branzy rushes around the desk and slides over to Farceur's unconscious body. Branzy flips the villain over to get a better look at his injuries.
“Crap” Branzy grimaces “ How the hell are you still alive?”
Farceur’s guts were quite literally leaking out his body from a large gaping wound residing on his gut. “This is gonna be such a bitch to deal with” Branzy groans out. Whelp here goes nothing.
Branzy tries to gently scoop Faceurs' guts back into his body. He thanks the gods above that he was already desensitized to this sort of thing otherwise this would have been a whole other type of nightmare Branzy wasn't too keen on dealing with.
Once Branzy was sure the villain's guts were back into place, or well at least back into his body. He holds the opening, closed with his hands and closes his eyes and lets his ability run through him.
A tingly feeling courses through Branzy's body and his hands begin to glow a soft purple light.
He knows it's working when he begins to feel a slight stinging on his gut, matching where Farceure's injuries had laid.
After some time the glowing stops and Branzy opens his eyes, he examines where the wound once was. Not even a scar left behind, Yep still got it. Branzy grins to himself and admires his handiwork.
However that grin turns into a grimace when the stinging starts feeling like a dull ache.
“Crap and I still have one more box I need to deal with, urggh” Branzy glances at the still unconscious villain.
… well I can't just leave him on the floor. He brings a hand up to his chin and hums. Branzy looks around for a sec before he spots a couch used to lounge when reading books. “Mmm, Oh!”
“I guess that works?” He shrugs and stands up.
He leans down and grabs the villain from under the armpits and starts dragging him over to the couches.
Once he has the villain comfortably on the couch he looks back to the ground and sees the trail of blood. Branzy face palms, Crap “That might be a slight issue” Branzy drawls out. He moves his hand away from his face and makes eye contact with the blood on his hands. Double crap, thank the gods it's dry, that would have sucked to clean off. With a huff Branzy makes his way over to the bathrooms to try and wash the blood off.
He turns on the sink and starts to vigorously rub his hands together “Okay Branzy, this is perfectly fine. This is most definitely fine.” Once he was satisfied with the state of his hands, he splashes some water on his face.
Branzy turns off the water, and grips the sides of the sinks, intensely staring at his own reflection. And oh boy, did he look wrecked. Well not wrecked exactly. But he's definitely seen better days. “C’mon Branzy Craft we have got to focus.” Some people may think he's lost it, I mean seriously? Talking to his own reflection? Despite what people may think Branzy actually thinks it helps him sort his thoughts better. So who cares if they think it's strange.
“Okay lets prioritize, First take care of the last crate, scrub the blood out of the floors, and if that crazy guy is still there when I get back, uhm… call the cops?”
Branzy lets go of the sink and brings his hands to his head and starts pulling at his hair.
“Who am I kidding? I can't call the cops. I just spent so much energy healing the guy. And on top of that he would totally kill me” He says to no one in particular “Oh my god, I cannot believe I seriously just saved The Fareuce himself.” Branzy closes his eyes. “What am I doing? Urgh why did I have to agree to closing?”
Branzy releases the grip he has on his hair and takes a deep breath. He prays to anyone listening that hopefully when he gets out the Villain will be gone. But Branzy's never that lucky so to his dismay the Villains body still lays sprawled out on the couch.
Branzy glances between the final crate the Villains body, tapping his fingers on his thigh he finally comes to the decision He can deal with that later. “That” being the very threatening unconscious body of a villain.
He walks past the lounge area desperately trying to ignore the body lying in his peripherals.
Alright Branzy, just one more crate we can do this.
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Maybe miracles do exist, because once Branzy walks out of the back room having just finished with the last box, he notices a lack of bodies on couches.
“Well… one less problem I suppose” He glances down to the blood stained floors. “Well isn't this just fantastic” Branzy breathes out sarcastically.
He sighs and heads back to the back room to fetch the cleaning supplies.
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When Branzy was finally finished it was around 2 in the morning, which is just fantastic because his job tomorrow starts at 8.
Branzy sighs dejectedly and grabs his backpack. He turns off the library's lights and locks the doors behind him, and begins his walk home.
When he finally enters his one person apartment he kicks off his shoes and leaves his bag and keys by the door.
Branzy makes his way over to the bathroom and he stares himself down in the mirror. “Shit I really liked this shirt too”. He frowns down at his shirt even though It was just a plain purple shirt, Branzy really liked the texture of it. Now his plain purple shirt is decorated with blood, presumably a gift from Mr. Psycho from earlier.
He just sighs out “Man whatever" and throws off the shirt.
Skipping a shower in favor of more sleep Branzy changes into some pajames, just a tank top and shorts. He quite literally throws himself into bed and promptly passes out. But not before briefly contemplating if this is gonna bite him back later.