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On a day where the most criminal thing the Music Meister has done was jaywalk, he’s incredibly concerned to see a shadowy figure with a billowing coat on top of his apartment complex’s roof.
Usually, if he’s just going about his day, he’s left alone. He’s not exactly a violent villain, after all, so the Bat and his Birds tend to just go after him when he’s actively doing something wrong. But tonight, there’s someone scary on his roof.
Neil hesitates at the door to the lobby, bag of groceries in one hand and keys in the other. What if the person up there is just backup for someone waiting inside his apartment? Should he confront the known threat first or risk the potential ambush?
He glances down at his groceries. There’s nothing that has to be put away immediately, so it’s not like he has to hurry to the kitchen. And there is a fire escape on the other side of the building that he could use to get to the roof…
And that’s how he finds himself climbing multiple flights of stairs on the side of his building as quietly as possible at 9:30 pm.
“This was a horrible idea,” he whispers breathlessly to himself, holding his leg where it’s started to cramp. Why does he have to live in a building with so many floors??
When he finally makes it to the top, he carefully peers over the ledge to try and spot the figure before he climbs up fully. Thankfully, this person hasn’t moved an inch, still visible in the dim light from streetlamps and general light pollution of the city. Neil waits until he’s caught his breath before speaking.
“Hi there!”
Instantly, the figure whips around and there’s a gun pointing at his face. Neil yelps, defaulting to his usual fallback plan:
“Stop right now, thank you very much!” he sings, a little higher pitched than he’d like but hey, he panicked. The gunman freezes as the 1997 Spice Girls hit washes over them.
“Put the gun down where you cannot touch!” Neil falls back into the proper tenor, pointing to the side. The shadowy figure clicks the safety back on and tosses the gun to the ground slightly out of reach. Neil nods approvingly.
“Hey you, person with a gun, are you here for me or are you here for fun?”
Now that he can actually focus on the person who nearly shot him, Neil does his best to make out the details of their all black outfit in the dark. A long trenchcoat, a turtleneck, cargo pants, military style boots, and a mask with a big white O where the face should be. He’s pretty sure it’s a man, but this is Gotham and he’s too progressive to assume.
There’s a moment’s pause as the masked figure figures out how to answer. Then, they raise two fingers.
“Alright, if you’re not here for me I’ll let you go. But don’t point that gun at me again.” Neil tries to be firm, but he’s pretty sure the effect is spoiled by the fact he’s wearing a Spongebob t-shirt and gym shorts that are still too big for him even though he’s been out of middle school for over a decade.
After a slow nod, the person lowers themself to sit in one of the plastic lawn chairs some of Neil’s neighbors brought up here one time. Neil hesitates before he joins them.
“So. Who are you?” He prompts.
Silence is all that answers him.
“Why are you up here?”
More silence. He’s being stared at through the mask, but all he can see is the weird circle.
“Erm… should I ask yes or no questions?”
A nod.
“Are you a villain?”
A shrug.
“For hire, then?”
Nod.
“Are you here on a job?”
A shake of the head no.
“…do you want me to go away?”
Another shrug.
Well. Considering most people Neil knows on a regular basis would say yes to that, he thinks this is a win. He beams, setting his groceries down next to the chair and settling in properly.
“Alright, I’m gonna call you Zero, because the other option is O-face and I feel like you wouldn’t like that one.”
He can feel the disdain through the mask, and that just makes him laugh.
It takes a while, and a lot of creative yes or no questions, but he manages to learn a bit about his new conversation partner (if one can call someone who doesn’t talk a conversation partner).
He’s a gun for hire, he’s worked for the Penguin among others, he finished a job and came here to relax. Also, he won’t take the mask off and doesn’t want to share Neil’s gummy bears. He’s lived in Gotham his whole life and has heard of Neil’s exploits but doesn’t particularly feel any which way about them. He doesn’t mind sitting and listening to Neil complain about his day.
For an hour, Music Meister snacks on gummy bears and goes on tangent after tangent. Zero stays silent the whole time, but Neil never feels like he’s unwelcome. It’s… nice. He’s not used to being tolerated.
“And they were out of eggs, because apparently Joker’s doing something egg-related for some reason, so I won’t have any for breakfast tomorrow. It’s okay though, because I bought some cereal. I’m going to have to pull off a heist soon, though, I’m running low on cash. Here’s hoping Batman’s busy doing something else and I can get through the whole show without interruptions. I could try to coordinate with someone, but most of the other Rogues want more than just money and I’m not in the mood to risk higher than a robbery charge at the moment. I guess Catwoman could-” Neil is forced to pause as he yawns.
“Is it late? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t keep you, you probably want to go home and take that thing off. It was nice talking to you, though.” He smiles sheepishly over at Zero as he stands up from the chair and stretches his arms above his head. Zero nods once, following his lead and rising to his feet.
Now, Music Meister is very used to being the short one. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s one of the shortest Rogues in the entire gallery, with his competition being Penguin and Mad Hatter. But standing this close to someone dressed for crime, quite built, blood on his shoes, looming above him, he’s suddenly reminded of his stature.
Neil takes a step back and picks up his groceries. He has to feed Mewsic Meowster, the cat is probably pissed he’s taking so long.
“Well. It was nice to meet you. Feel free to drop by another time, if you want.”
Zero nods, silent as ever, and watches as he goes to the stairwell door. Neil gives him one more smile, to be polite, before slipping inside and starting down the stairs towards his floor.
He made a friend! Kind of. He made an acquaintance, at the very least, one who doesn’t seem to be bothered by his very existence. It’s suddenly a much better night. Maybe he’ll see him again.
—-
Kane Logan Foley, much better known as Onomatopoeia, watches the bizarre little redhead vanish into the stairwell. The afterimage of his smile seems to have burned into his eyelids.
It’s been a while since someone spoke to him this much, without fear or wanting something from him. He’s made a name for himself as a contract killer who specializes in killing heroes without powers. Music Meister is neither of those things, so he’s not exactly on the list, but the complete lack of fear was… surprising. Welcome.
He’d come here because he likes to listen to the music playing from one of the apartments to wind down after a kill. He thinks he’s going to show up more often. He likes listening to Neil talk.