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It was a day like any other in Crossroads. Another group from the millions of criminals still hidden has been placed in the hands of Banlands and its police.
Though, this time, it seems like the police had welcomed in a familiar face.
"Here," the officer gave a piece of cloth to Prism, their most trustworthy detective. This piece of cloth was a part of the infamous Silver Shadow's attire.
It was a simple piece found lying within the pile of criminals, yet possibly crucial to a very important mission.
This mission in particular? Figure out the identity of this mysterious inphernal.
Prism grabbed the piece of cloth, examining it before placing it in a plastic pack inside of his own bag. "I won't let you down," the detective replies.
It was always wonderful to recieve missions from the police. Much as well to be referred as Banlands' best detective.. for such a high title no one would expect would be given to a gearless inphernal.
At the cost of having no gear, Prism found himself to be a jack of all trades. He learned quick, and could get good at any skill. (-But never a master, no. Millions of skills, but master of none.)
Prism walks away, ready to head home to examine the piece of cloth.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
The sound of the clock ticking, one of Prism's only companions as he continues to examine the piece of cloth on his desk.
This type of cloth was clearly not manufactured in any store or dressmaker of Crossroads. It was hard to determine, perhaps it used Crossroads or Thieves' Den weaving methods? The patterns itself are so specific, yet at the same time so broad.
The cloth itself, was surprisingly not as strong as he thought. It was comparable to any piece of store-bought fabric, which was quite intriguing. Prism expected it to be strong, not simple.
Smelling it, it had a floral scent, but not too hard, like it was dirtied recently. Which it did, anyway. Other than that, this floral scent didn't give any clues either. It was a common brand in the market, which he'd seen tons of people use already.
The color itself? Black and green. Perhaps this is the Silver Shadow's favorite colors, but those clues are useless right now.
...
Prism mentally face palms himself. This is terrible.
Knock, knock, on his bedroom door.
The chair creaked as Prism stood up. There's no one else who would knock on his door other than—
"PRISM!"
Slateskin Potion, his roommate, cheerfully waving to him. "Buddy! Hey!"
"Good evening again, Slateskin. You've checked up on me 3 times already." He says, deadpan. Normally, he'd try to put a smile on his face during a conversation, but he's way too exhausted for that right now.
"It's because I haven't seen you eat dinner yet," she frowns. "I even cooked for once! Some spaghetti, 'cuz it was gonna expire next month." She chuckled, before her eyes began glancing at both Prism's overly-focused-kinda-spooky eyes and the two lampposts shining on a piece of cloth.
Prism catches her drifting attention easily. "That," he glances to the piece of cloth, "—is my current focus right now."
"Okay, so.. more detective work that you're probably gonna die early for." She stares, deadpan. "Look.. I just want you to eat."
They both pause way too long for Slateskin's comfort.
"Before it turns cold, of course!" She tries to add, a little quip to lighten the mood. "..Come onnn! Please? You can judge freely!"
And Prism can't ignore the glimmer in her eyes.
"..You're right. I should eat."
Slateskin has a whole party in her head over that agreement.
Cling, clang
"..It's not too bad." Prism says, taking little bites of the spaghetti in his bowl. He was originally hesitant, but this wasn't terrible. Not as terrible as Slateskin's other food related "experiments", atleast. Slateskin grins.
Then, she rested her face on her hand, staring at Prism with a relaxed demeanor. "Soo, wanna tell me what's your task now?" Slateskin asks, before shoving another fork of spaghetti in her mouth.
Prism pauses for a moment, before admitting past his exhaustion. "Remember the Silver Shadow?"
"Yeah?" She perks up.
"They left a piece of ripped cloth. Banlands made me investigate it, as usual..."
"You act as if you hate your job."
"What?"
"Sorry, sorry, bad comment."
Past the comedy, Prism frowns a bit, simply playing with each noodle. "It's really hard. None of the clues I've collected from it were anything useful, nor does it connect with previous theories regarding the Silver Shadow."
In return, Slateskin frowns too. Even she could see how tired he was, given a task with not even a thread to follow.
...
The dinner table goes silent. A few breaths and thoughts pass eachother, but not a single word was said.
"Hm, hm, tell me other clues you know about the Silver Shadow!" Slateskin says, an idea in her head. Prism lifts his head, glancing towards Slateskin's cheery demeanor once more before starting to think again.
"They only come out at night.. They often go where people can't see them.. and he was usually spotted near common gang places. That's the main clues." He says, truly putting his detective mind to work.
Slateskin glances at the window, before grabbing her phone, the little charms on it dangling, perhaps in response to the sudden ideas that just popped in her head. All Prism could do was stare at her, curious.
"Ah! Here!" She cheers, showing a news article to Prism.
The news article was another one of Crossroads' daily crimes. This time, a well-hidden gang had stolen atleast 3 gears. This gang was found near Eastern Crossroads, and mainly targetted offense gears, blah blah..
"..And what do you want me to do with this?" Prism raises an eyebrow, as Slateskin looks at him annoyed.
"Well, duh! Find this gang, 'cuz the Silver Shadow is probably gonna get them! ..Assuming he knows about this news website." She says, putting her phone down.
"That's incredibly unlikely. I can't just go to a random crime scene and assume the Silver Shadow's gonna appear there."
Damn this logical mind. Can't you take a stupid risk?
"But what if!! This gang's been going on for a while now, so maaaybe, there's a chance the Silver Shadow's been eying on them!"
...
"Just go undercover, Prism. Just take a look, and maybe you'll catch a glimpse of him. No need to intervene, or anything."
This was illogical. This was TERRIBLY illogical. Why did Prism agree to this stupid plan?
Slateskin was digging through her closet, trying to find the right attire. "You know, it's stupid you don't have any leggings." She says, the deadpan expression clearly visible even if Prism couldn't see her face.
"They break easily," Prism defends, as he sits on Slateskin's bed. He doesn't say it out loud, but god is her room messy.
"Whatever you say Mr. My-Job-Makes-Me-Miserable." She chuckles, earning an annoyed face from Prism. Before he could fire back, Slateskin suddenly squeels.
"Found it!~" She cheers, handing Prism some black leggings. "Okay, shoo! Go change!"
'Of course,' he'd say at the back of his mind.
That's why Prism was such a great detective.
When you're born gearless, you can also pretend to own any gear.
Tied together with amazing acting, you can pretend to be someone you're not, as you slip between walls to get your eyes on the prize.
Perhaps, this would be Prism's greatest skill.
He steps out the bathroom, showing off his new attire.
On top was a sleeveless black shirt with pink and green details. Below him was the aforementioned black leggings. Now, you may ask, "Won't the pink and green details garner attention?"
Well, if you take a closer look, there is a black jacket on his waist. The only reason his shirt has neon details is because, word-for-word by Slateskin, "I see every jogger wear neon."
Yes, Prism's "persona-of-the-day" would be a late night jogger. Silly, but believable.
"Aaand, your gear for the day.." Slateskin shouts, heading back in her room to dig for an item (or two) before coming out.
A brown, small sling bag and an MP3 Player.
"An MP3 Player! It's simple, but it works!" She cheers.
Prism has to say, this disguise was pretty great. Honestly, all of her disguises have been amazing.. he just doesn't want to give her the acknowledgment or she'll send him to happy-hell for it.
"..Thanks, Slate."
Just a few touch-ups, and he was good to g—
"Wait!" Slateskin calls out, making Prism pause as he tied (or was tying) his shoelaces.
"If you ever think you're in danger.."
Slateskin hands a little vial to Prism, putting it in his palm. "..Use this."
Slateskin always does this when he's about to go on investigation. A small vial from her gear, allowing him to turn to stone to survive any harsh attacks at the cost of speed.
Prism nods, a smile on his face. "I promise."
"Pinky promise?"
"..Yeah. Pinky promise."
Slateskin chuckles. "Aaalright, then go on out there, 'MP3 Player!'" She says, nudging the other towards the exit doorway.
She may be child-like, but there's no doubt when it comes to her care for Prism.
Step, step, step..
This wasn't really running, was it? Prism was practically just walking. He wanted to save his energy.
..He'd play music, but he needs to focus on his surroundings right now for any crime or swift shadows. (Plus, this playlist was Slateskin's music taste, not his.)
He suddenly heard some commotion in an alleyway. Anyone in the right mind wouldn't go there, but Prism's has a job to do. He's in Eastern Crossroads already anyway.
He takes a peek.
Some guys, with an odd pile covered with a piece of cloth. Chatting over earning money.
He decides to get closer, to hear more, hiding behind a wooden crate. This must be the gang Slateskin mentioned.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed him by the hood.
"What's this? A curious little puppy, it seems.." A seemingly stronger man with brown horns taunted, as Prism was left to pause in shock (perhaps fear) , watching as the soles of his feet hardly touched the ground.
"Oh! Um, sorry. I-I was just on a jog, but I heard something going on and got curious."
The man simply frowned, raising an eyebrow. Typically, not a single inphernal would bat an eye, so why now?
"EY, BASEBALL BAT! Whatcha doing over there, come have a drink with us already!" Another inphernal with bright purple horns called the man grabbing Prism. That must have been the name of this brown-horned man.
"PATIENCE, YOU IDIOT! I found a little fledgeling.." He shouts back, looking at the other, before glancing again at Prism. "Curiosity kills the cat, you know." He says, an evil grin as he eyed him.
"This your gear?" He picks up the MP3 Player with another hand, the little thing paused. "Wow. A support gear, huh? You're way too easy."
Suddenly, Prism was pushed back to the wall, clashing against a garbage bin. "But whatever, it'll probably be worth somethin' on the market."
Prism groaned, his back aching, as he glanced back at the man— Baseball Bat. His hands turn into fists, heading straight for the other.
...
A glass breaks, now laying on the floor.
The fist never landed, instead colliding with solid stone.
Baseball Bat, now agitated, looks at Prism.
Prism stares at him, wiping off the little bit of slateskin liquid on his face.
"Why, YOU—" Baseball Bat's voice trembles, perhaps of agitation. He crushed the MP3 Player in his hand, convinced Prism's gear was a Slateskin Potion.
Prism knows this small amount of slateskin will only last him 10 minutes, so he should leave..
Or so he thought, as two others approach.
"Heey," The same purple-horned man says, blocking the way Prism originally came from. "Messin' with my mates? Nooo waaay, dude." He says, summoning his gear with it's ever familiar glow.
Prism learned how to defend himself. He knew he'd have to do this someday, but it was always terrifying. SFOTH, he was an observer, not an attacker.
It happened way too suddenly. The men were way too offensive for the poor gearless inphernal to handle, and all he could do was dodge and stun. It was hard. The gearless could never have the upper hand on offense..
...
Prism didn't blink, and he watched it all.
The way the Silver Shadow landed.
The shurikens(?) that suddenly flew by,
The way they'd stick on the wall,
The way he was so swift,
The way, the way, the way,
Whoosh!
Oh, the Silver Shadow just dragged him and picked him up, placing him outside the alleyway.
...
THE SILVER SHADOW THEMSELF JUST HELPED HIM.
That was the Silver Shadow, his mind finally realises! For fhe first time, he was able to witness this swift moves and the way he fights! This was a major clue to figure out who the Silver Shadow truly is! A great lead that could be of so much help! (And to thank Slateskin..)
He tries to dig in his little sling bag..
And suddenly, he realized the cloth inside was gone.
Like a shadow that creeped up behind him while he wasn't looking.
...Huh.
"Heh, could've been risky there!" Another one says, as he sits on the rooftop, a piece of black and green cloth on his hands.
"I'll sew this back soon, I'm way too lazy.."