Chapter Text
If Nero knew Dante had wanted an errand boy on his demon hunting trip in Gotham, he would have flipped the asshole off and told him to get lost and find one up his—
Okay. So things weren’t going like he thought. Still, any period of time away of Fortuna wasn’t a complete loss, he'd admit.
The first few weeks he’d tried to stay in the city had felt like being dissected by judging eyes every day. Despite the truth about Sanctus and the Order and all those things, a stunning amount of the population had remain steadfast in their loyalty. Which meant that even if they didn’t hate Nero before, they certainly did now having aided the guy who killed their last leader, revealed to have demonic heritage, and basically turned his back on the Order.
So even if the destinations Dante had let him tag along to after everything did smell like smog, piss, and utter misery— he’d be there. Though the longer he was away, the more he missed Kyrie.
Nero groaned. ‘Backup’ his ass. If that jerk had wanted backup, he wouldn'tve run off the second Nero turned his back.
So of course, the second they’d reached their shitty motel and Nero had hopped of the back of Dante’s dingy bike, he’d tossed Nero a crumpled twenty and told him to ‘get grub’ and ‘meet back here with pizza’ before vanishing into the night before Nero could protest.
He was tempted to take it all in swing and go off into the night to find what Dante had said to be some gathering of low level demons himself, but it seemed like Dante had taken those address details with him as well. Really, the guy could invest in a flip phone or something. What sorta big shot demon hunting business had a single office landline back in Red Grave? He wondered if he could convince Dante to take one out of the human Dark Knight’s handbook and supe up a car to take around or something.
On their budget though, Nero had low expectations Dante would roll up on an asphalt eating Hellcat and would probably come sputtering along in some soccer mom van that would start disassembling itself before it left school zone level speeds.
Anything would be better than that beat up bike Dante hauled him on to cross city lines, though. His ass still hurt from the back road shortcut Dante had taken turned seven hours of U-turns and rainstorms, because of course, Dante was never lost, just ‘on a scenic route’ and even the weather just outside of Gotham was affected by her shitty personality. It didn’t help that Dante didn’t exactly believe in traffic laws either.
But even if Dante did have a phone, its not like he could be relied on to pick up a call anyway, Nero sulked.
God, what if he happened to find a swarm nearby? They didn’t exactly have the funds for freakin’ sky signal like some people. Smoke signals would get lost in all the stupid smog. So what, hope and pray the guy could smell his demise from however far away he was?
“I should’ve smelled bullshit when he asked me for help at least…”
“Uh, what?”
Nero blinked and looked up at the associate at the counter in the middle of ringing up Dante’s order. The worker’s dead, tired eyes barely twitched as they paused mid scan. Unsettled, Nero tried for a reassuring smile that he knew probably looked more like constipation.
They stood in silence for a long moment, only the tinny voice of a radio from the store speakers talking about conspiracies over recent Gotham earthquakes and reminders of the early city curfew for Crime Alley could be heard.
Giving up, he made a gesture to the food warmer on the counter, containing a few sad pieces of spinning skewers with dubious looking meat and god knows how old pizza. “I’ll also take the rest of that.”
Nero swore the worker looked mildly horrified and Nero reevaluated his previous plan to freeload off of whatever he was getting Dante.
“Uh, actually I think I forgot something. Could you hold that real quick?”
The cashier gave Nero the most foul, withering look known to man before they plastered a pure plastic smile on their face. “Sure, man. Not like we close in ten or anything, I’ll just be waiting here.”
Nero winced, feeling like a major asshole as he hurried himself back down one of the aisles he’d seen less dubious looking instant ramen. He cursed Dante leaving him in the middle of nowhere after hauling his ass across city lines just to fuck off and ask Nero— who was starving by the way— to play pizza delivery boy. “I’m gonna shove that pepperoni up his sorry—”
Before he could jog back to the counter where he’d left the rest of his stuff, the electronic tune of the motion sensor went off towards the front of the store.
A pair of girls covered in bruises and caked with Gotham grime came stumbling through glass sliding doors. They barely waitied for the automatic door to slide open all the way, a hands catching on the panes before pushing themselves over the threshold.
“Help! Help, there’s a van, they’re trying to—”
It wasn’t long before the sliding door was forcibly pushed aside and the familiar sound of a gun’s safety catch being clicked off echoed through the small store. Nero could barely make out the top of a few heads crowding where the cashier had been. “Okay, shitheads, listen up! You all know how this goes.”
Dropping his haul of items onto the nearest rack, Nero moved from behind the end of the aisle to look down a row and get closer to make out a group of people in a random myriad of Halloween masks. They slung baggy burlap sacks with loose thread and scuff marks over the tops of their heads like a hood. Looking closer, Nero made out tiny, pointed horns and red, blue color schemes follow by sharp teeth and few goatees.
Nero tried not to smile when he realized what they were.
Devils in Gotham… who would’ve thought?
“Seriously, man?” The dead eyed cashier intoned to the the masked man holding the barrel of a pistol rather close to their face as they raised their hands lazily. The pair of girls were crowded at the checkout and Nero mentally counted the number of assholes at the counter and the bullets he was already thumbing in his coat pocket.
Nero’s first mistake was assuming even running errands for Dante would be tame. Of course, this sliver of time would be the day Nero decided to leave the Red Queen with Lady.
He didn’t trust many people beyond Kyrie with his sword, but after Dante had promised she’d had a way with weapon modifications, Nero thought a single night would be alright.
He’d seen the Kalina Ann. That thing was a gorgeous monstrosity and he wasn’t above saying he was jealous.
Besides, the last case he and Dante had been on put the Queen through the ringer and Nero would rather not have her for a day than explode into pieces when he exceeded her fuel line a little too much.
Look, he knew this was Gotham of all places and while it didn't have a vacation destination rep, Nero wasn't just gonna pull up to a corner shop at fuckass o’ clock with a engine powered demon slaying sword under his arm like a handbag.
Besides, he could take a minor robbery without her. Before he’d been taken in by Kyrie’s family, before he’d been inducted into the Order, he hadn’t needed a sword or a gun when assholes thought a lone orphan was an easy target.
The clang of rattling bells signaled the front door sliding open again and in pour four more guys in with masks, malice dense enough in their gait the whole shop seemed to curl in on itself.
Still. Entirely plausible. It’s not like he didn’t have the Blue Rose heavy in his inner coat pocket. He didn’t want to go overboard on what seemed like a few human kidnappers.
Clicking open the barrel as quietly as he could, he was suddenly overcome by an acute sense of dread. The air seemed to condense and something in his gut told him there was some wrongness coming for him. It was familiar, that chill down the spine, that turning sickness in your gut.
Malevolence made physical.
Through the sliding door, skittered the hunched figures of something Nero’s Devil Bringer twitched to be closer to, like calling to like. A subtle blue-green glow emitted from cracks in it’s skin, bathing the store in an eerie glow that overpowered the neon signs in the window. Nero was vaguely reminded of Dante’s more demonic form only these demons appeared more like deformed, runt like versions of him. Wings to small to support bony bodies, winding limbs instead of heavy corded muscle, even their horns grew in jagged spikes instead of neat, thick spirals.
The small blessing was that Nero only counted two. Vein marks extended from each of its chest where a sickly sort of green began to ooze from within. With one intent on sniffing everything it came across, from the remains of his purchase on the counter to the candy bar section, the other seemed intent on the lone escapees, still shaking and heaving with breath.
…All right, so blasting away with all these civilians around wasn't really feasible anymore. Sue a guy for getting optimistic for a second.
“Hey.” The head mask pushed the barrel of his gun to the cashier’s head. A gloved hand pushed Dante’s wrapped up pizza off the counter with a lazily lean over the counter. “This mess. You ringing up anybody else in the store?”
At that, it was almost as if the demon could smell him and Nero barely stumbled back behind shelving before the figure craned its neck at an inhuman angle towards where he’d stuck his head out. Nero froze, his left arm clamping over the anxious buzzing energy his Devil Bringer always seemed to have, especially since he’d taken up Yamato. The blade in question pulsed in tandem, responding to the energy like a buzzing magnet.
Before the guys up front could get suspicious, one of them cut in sounding exhausted. “You know, Larry, we wouldn’t even be in this mess if you tied them up when I told you.”
Larry, Nero assumed, turned away from looking down the aisle Nero had been peeking down. “Well, Dave, you weren’t supposed to bring the boss’ weird fuckin’ experiments for the kidnapping job now were ya’?”
“They make meeting the quota quicker, I didn’t know you was gonna freak out instead, jackass!” Nero silently thanked Dave the Kidnapper and took the moment to slip down a row that wasn’t in a direct line of vision to where he was.
“Oh yeah, lemme just stay put and let the creature of unimaginable horror have me! It’s alright though, I got a buncha randos tied up for big boss! Hope he sends my wage to my funeral after I’ve been eaten by freakin’ Predator over here—”
Nero got to the end row of the store, creeping behind the last row of shelving. Seeing a neon exit sign behind a wall of stacked crates, he wondered how long it would take the demons to make their way across the linoleum before he got the civilians out.
“Okay! Jesus, shut up already.” Nero’s attention snapped back to the front where Dave turned to the cashier, readjusting the aim of his pistol and gesturing wildly. “We’ll just take this guy here instead to meet the quota.”
The cashier slumped over the POS, hands clasped comically. “Oh, fuck no. I got class tomorrow, dude. Can’t you kidnap the Gothamart night shift down the block—?”
“Gothamart’s got cameras and a kidnapping policy now. Bougie fucks. Goddamn Bruce Wayne.”
“Ah, so that’s the reason for my wage. Too damn good to be true…”
And with that, a blur of red, yellow, and green came propelling through the glass front door sending the entire store into a frenzied chaos.
With their momentum, the blur swung feet first into one of the masked men who went crashing into a rack pushing down the row of shelving down like dominoes. At its stop, Nero stood at the end of the row with the majority of the tall shelves now in a pile before him, every head now turned to his seemingly sudden appearance. Blue Rose's chamber already halfway loaded through the debacle, Nero lent a wry grin to his audience.
“Dave. Larry.” Nero nodded at blank expressions. “You guys doing some late night shopping, too?”
Silence.
…Tough crowd. At the stilted quiet, Nero sparked into action with a flick of his wrist, the double chambers of the Blue Rose spun wildly in their barrels before clicking into place. He pulled the trigger unloading twin bullets towards the demonic bunch. In his peripheral, he saw the more human bunch begin to jump back into action like chickens who’d suddenly found their heads again.
The demons, however, running more on instinct than logic had already began scaling the ruins of the aisles towards him.
Nero looked towards the counter where a shellshocked cashier stood wide eyed and the girls who’d ran in crouched in front screaming at the glass and bullets. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder and rushed forward to get in the path of one of demons running towards them. “Get to the exit, now!”
The disinterested one had begun crawling over the ruined rows of merchandise squealed in pain as Nero’s shot met their mark between a leg joint with an awful sort of wet crunch. The thing looked vaguely human like some demons did at times, it’s head enlarged and split into two halves a whole, in it’s middle a barely humanoid face twisted in agony as it bisected the more reptilian looking sides.
The trio of civilians slid out the door just as it’s elongated bony limbs crumpled over each other and teetered off balance as it writhed. Small dragon like wings on its back fluttered manically as it attempted get away and reorient itself towards him.
“Man, you’re an ugly one, aren’t you?” Nero mockingly consoled as he lazily sidestepped a swipe from the demon he hadn’t shot at yet to stand over the wounded one.
Before it could get up, Nero let loose another double shot point blank, inwardly groaning as it’s innards spattered across the bottom of his jeans. The demon twitched wildly before slumping limply at his feet. “Hope that helped a bit!”
Almost as if learning it’s lesson from its predecessor, the demon’s bigger and bulkier twin didn’t let Nero get an opportunity to get close and personal. The rapid shots Nero did fire from a wider distance away skated off it’s abnormally waxy, tough blue exoskeleton. Tossing it’s horned head and swinging it’s back end crumpled metal iceboxes and shattered glass in an instant. Nero didn’t want to know what would happen if he got hit straight on by it.
Seemingly angered by his dodging, the demon let out a raspy screech that made the hairs on his neck stand straight up. It trailed off and began to click its teeth, a foul smelling green ooze beginning to drip from it.
The blurry figure that had mostly been knocking kidnapper heads in his peripheral this whole time froze the same moment as Nero did. For a second, Nero wondered if he also felt like someone had just walked over his grave. The awful wrongness dissipated as the blur barely ducked beneath a jab aimed at him.
With one hand outstretched with the Blue Rose aimed at its leg, he reached back with this right to grab the hilt of the Red Queen—
Ah, shit.
Nero’s hand swiped through empty air halfway through remembering the Red Queen still getting fixed up in Lady’s possession.
Correcting his course he instead lifted the Blue Rose towards its torso—
THUNK! A heavy metal object whacked into the side of his head.
“Motherfucker—” Nero’s shot went wide, shooting out a light in the ceiling enveloping the area in a darkness only illuminated by the deathly blue-green of the beast before him. Shooting a glance back where one of the kidnappers stood triumphant with a can of soup.
Oh, hell no. If Nero dies today via canned goods, Dante would resurrect him just to laugh at him.
In less than a second, the demon closed the distance between them. Nero attempted to fix his aim for the demon’s widening jaws when an explosion knocked the beast off its course and in a wall.
As plaster rained down from the ceiling where the demon had knocked a hole through the concrete wall, Nero’s head snapped to where the blast had come from. Belatedly, a remembered the colorful blur that had fallen into the crowd of would-be-kidnappers from seemingly nowhere and he was met with a boy half a head shorter than him.
The soup thrower was now crumpled on the ground clutching a crooked nose— yeah, fuck that guy— and his savior stood above him twirling a ring, no, a grenade pin around one of his fingers. Nero zeroed in on the white lenses domino mask, the traffic light color scheme, cape and green boots.
It also wasn’t hard to miss the gigantic letter R brightly emblazoned across his heart like a signal. Wait, did Robin have a signal light or was that just Batman?
Before he could ask, the demon shaped hole in the wall screamed in rage and a staggering mass began to claw its way back into the room. Without the Red Queen, Nero had wondered how he was going to get close enough to get through its armor without having to slice it open with the force of a car engine. Now that it was confused…
Nero rolled his right shoulder, reaching for the familiar yet new energy that coalesced into a solid form. Sweeping his hand outwards, Yamato crystallized into view, icy and ravenous as usual. It wasn’t any Red Queen with her bells and whistles that Nero had so painstakingly spent nights tacking on out of the view of Credo and his other Order mates who found it sacrilegious.
But Nero could appreciate the simple beauty of Yamato’s subtle design— at least when it came to the blade itself. Using it’s ability was an entirely different story and why Nero mostly stuck to the Red Queen from day to day. The last time Nero had accidentally cut a massive hole in space time, Dante had been utterly delighted while Nero had a conniption.
Breathing slowly, Nero thumbed the guard, clicking it free from it’s scabbard. With one clean motion, he brought the edge down on the remaining demon, leaving the store quiet and bereft of hellish screaming.
Nero made sure to flick off any remaining residue on it before sheathing it again. Instead of letting his Devil Bringer absorb it again, he hung it over one of his shoulders. Without the Red Queen, he felt a little bare.
Dante, although easygoing most of the time, was pretty adamant on sword care. Where the Rebellion found its place swung over Dante’s back, blood or not, Yamato pulled a strange quiet reverence from him. It made sense to Nero; if he’d had any family heirlooms other than that raggedy old black blanket Fortuna’s orphanage had found him in, he’d be anal about lending it off to someone who wouldn’t take care of it well.
Just as Nero was about to make his quick escape out of the soon-to-be-swarmed-with-cops store, he was stopped in his tracks.
“Who are you.” The demand came from behind him and Nero turned to find a crumpled pile of human goons on the ground already tied up against the counter. Robin stalked forward, grabbing the hilt of a blade that had been jammed into a pile of rubble nearby.
Nero brushed plaster off of the one package still intact on the counter— Dante’s request, per usual. Nero scowled, rolling his eyes and pushing it off to join the rest of his unfortunate order.
“Pizza delivery.”
Robin scoffed, lifting the the tip of his blade— a katana, Nero’s brain chimed in recognition— high enough that he could see the gleam of the shop’s neon open sign reflected in perfect mimicry off its edge. Nero distantly wondered if there was some niche law to be broken if he pulled out Yamato on the Robin but honestly the more he thought about it, it probably would just fall under child abuse.
“You know what those things are, don’t you?”
Nero hummed, taking one out of Dante’s be annoying and cryptic as fuck playbook. “I dunno. What’s it to you, boy wonder?”
“You’re in Gotham, slaying beasts with a magical sword. I believe that makes it directly my business, outsider.”
What a welcome wagon. Still, he had a point there.
Before he could reply with something equally as snarky, a voice piped up at the counter. “Hey, man. Are y’all supers done fightin’ now? I gotta pee.”
Larry, no, Dave— well, whoever it was, one of the goons that had argued at the front of the counter and later thrown a soup can at his head sat up tied in steel cables. The rest were out for the count, scattered around him and groaning. “Don’t you kiddos got daycare tomorrow?”
Nero sighed, flicked his wrist, and the empty bullet casings rolling out of the Blue Rose's dual chambers like a charm. And before they could clink against the linoleum flooring, he’d already reloaded and twirled her back into the makeshift holster in his inner coat lining. The guy was lucky he was sheathing her instead of using him as target practice.
Robin rose to attention, his expression cold. “Well, maybe we should get you back to your nursing home, old man.”
“Old? Old! I’ll be thirty in—”
The kid just yawned, turning away to refocus on the mess around them. Nero snorted— the kid was petty. Kind of a riot, too.
As LarryDave kept chattering off in the background, Robin walked off deeper into the store to begin photographing and sampling the demons Nero had left behind.
“I wouldn’t mess with those.” Nero said trailing behind, glaring at LarryDave who’d gave up on needling them and begun to sing an off tune drinking song.
Robin tapped the side of his domino mask and Nero could see the flicker of a HUD screen behind the white lenses. He carefully observed the remains with a distant calculation. “Would you like to tell me what they are?”
Nero shrugged, leaning on one of the still standing shelves. “Would you believe me if I did?”
Robin gave him a deadpan expression, scalpel and sample tube in hand, seemingly pulled from that endless hammerspace belt he had around his waist. He capped it with a thumb and began making to put it away when Nero reached out to grab his wrist. He of course was met with the glint of a R-shaped throwing star in his peripheral, Robin pulling his gauntlet free from his grasp with a a hiss.
“I’m sure you’ve seen me and my ilk fight aliens and Halloween costumed criminals on a regular basis. I do not believe you are as important as you think you are.”
Okay, rude. “Still, nothing good comes from messing around with things you don’t understand. Science and this stuff don’t exactly mix in the best ways.”
Nero immediately was reminded of Agnus and the crazed fervor he had in his eyes as he regaled Nero with his exploits of scientific discovery. Everyone knew the Bats were more gadgets and sleuthing than the mad science type but Nero had also thought the Order the pinnacle of goodness as one point too, didn’t he?
“Then enlighten me.”
Robin pointed the tip of his blade at the corpse of the demon, well, now that it been defeated, what was looking to be the sort of artificial demon Nero had become familiar with during his time on Fortuna.
Gone were the misshapen wings and bony spinal ridges. Without a sign of the sick blue-green energy pulsing from its visible veins, Nero was almost positive the being in front of him had been human once upon a time. It’s base anyway. Looking at mismatched limbs, and stitches stretching across its body, Nero couldn’t be exactly sure where the person had ended and the demon began.
It felt as though someone had tried to implement human medicine as a aid to the transformation more than the familiar alchemy he was used to. He didn’t envy whatever transformation the person had gone through to have been throwing around foul energy like that.
He’d say it all smelled of something extremely similar to Agnus’ brand of dubious alchemy and obsession with demonic magic but there was some other aspect to it that Nero didn't recognize.
“They’re… human. Sorta. Artificial demons.” Nero sighed. “Though the zombie ooze is new.”
There was always something new when it came to Nero, really.
“And the reason you know this? You were obviously expecting to hunt them here.”
“Names Nero. I’m a private demon hunter from Devil May Cry. Dunno if you ever heard of us. We’re based in Red Grave.” Nero swallowed the small lie he’d just flat out spoke to Robin— the Robin. As in partner to Batman, defender of justice and enemy of big, fat liars, Nero was pretty sure.
It’s not like he was pretending to be Dante or something. He was associated with Devil May Cry in some sense if being the weird cult orphan that the guy kept letting tag along on his jobs was adjacent to ‘employee’.
Instead, he latched onto the indignation of being given fetch duty despite literally kicking major ass not even ten minutes ago— the very real danger that a bunch of unsuspecting people were about to be in with Dante nowhere to be seen.
Nero straightened his back, more than faux titles fueling him. Dante’s pizza would have to wait— Nero had actual important things to be doing.
“Heard about a recent gathering of low level demons here in Gotham but I think we might be dealing with something a bit more.” Nero regarded the bodies by their feet.
“Demons…” Even through the weird off white lenses of his mask, Nero could recognize the flicker of recognition in his features. “Odd to find them here in Gotham. We don’t usually get trouble of the magical sort. Justice League Dark usually handles those issues before they enter our territory. I wonder why I have not seen Constantine or Zatanna about…”
“Constantine?” Nero wracked his brain over the familiar name. A vague memory of stumbling into a rowdy poker game gone fist fight and later the hungover form of Dante and a man in a tan overcoat passed out on the floor. “Oh yeah, I think he owes Dante some money? Or is it the opposite…”
Scoffing, Robin mumbled under his breath, “It would not surprise me if he did…”
Shifting the topic, Robin focused back on him. “I suppose your meta abilities are based around some sort of space manipulation, then?”
Nero froze to where Robin looked at his right arm, he wondered if his coat had slipped or been cut and he’d seen the obviously demonic arm he had but he looked down to see where he’d slung Yamato over his shoulder. Nero shrugged, internally bracing for the long run taking credit for Yamato’s feats. “Ah, yeah. Something like that.”
Robin hummed, already looking away to bend down and observe the area where that neon substance had poured from the mouth of the hybrid’s vessel.
“Was there any chance of survival for the human vessels?”
The boy stared solemnly, and in the back of his mind, Nero reminded himself this kid had probably seen dozens if not hundred of crime scenes as a vigilante. Still, you never forget the first time you meet a demon.
“Depends. I’ve seen some wake up completely normal after getting the shit kicked out of them, some others barely get hurt and still never wake up. But these people look like they’ve been on the end of someone who has no clue what they’re doing.” Though Nero knew that even a successful transformation wouldn’t save someone sometimes. At times, he let himself wonder if he’d gone to Credo sooner, maybe there would've been a person other than Dante who could understand what demonic transformation felt like. Someone he could call family anyway.
“Wish we’d gotten here sooner.” Nero mumbled, hiding the way he rubbed at his right side by crossing his arms over his chest.
Robin nodded, rising to his normal height. “These demons seem to be a foul sort of creature…”
Nero’s right armed itched and he pulled the sleeve of his coat over the edge of the gloves he’d been wearing in the Gotham weather.
Turning back, Robin focused on Nero and he forced himself still. “As you are probably aware, I am Robin. Batman is currently indisposed with another matter of greater importance.”
The vigilante sniffed, seemingly over with his impromptu interrogation. “Seeing that you expertise in this area, I will be joining you on your search for the missing and these ‘demons’ you speak of.”
Robin stood up from his crouch, swirling a vial of red blood at eye level. He then slotted the tube into a handheld device he pulled from his belt and Nero watched with interest as heard the mechanics star to whir. “I believe I know what the green substance that powered them is, but I cannot be sure. Especially since I am unfamiliar with demon biology.”
Dusting his hands off, Robin moved on to sample the other demonic hybrid near by. “Testing a sample would give us more information but I believe the effect recedes upon defeat. Still, perhaps traces remain.”
Nero hummed, also silently going over the memory of eerie green-blue light and the demonic pulse that radiated from the hybrids before running out of juice. He wondered faintly where he’d felt a similar reaction to demonic energy that it stuck with him so.
Shaking the thought away, he turned back to LarryDave glaring. “That last trick at the end was pretty ballsy… just out of curiosity, what were you gonna do after it killed us and you were still tied to this counter like a stuck pig?”
The man scowled, spitting at his feet.
Typical.
“Gonna tell us why you needed those people for?”
“I don’t know! Boss’ got all of us running around doing jobs. I just drive the van.”
What a load of shit, Nero had heard better excuses from kids Robin’s age with their hands stuck in the cookie jar. “Well, you don’t drive to your secret lair with your eyes up your ass do you? Spill.”
“Fuck you, man! That brat broke my nose!”
Robin, seemingly tired of brooding in the corner in faux calm silence lashed out and drew his blade to push in front of the goon’s face. “Tell us, fool, or I’ll remove it from your face!”
“Bull! Batman would put you in timeout or some shit—”
For a second, when all Nero saw was the glint of a blade come down he was sure he was gonna see the idiot’s nose flopping on the ground. Instead, the katana swiped the front of LarryDave’s bangs clean off him. Its remains floated onto his nose as the guy yelped.
“Alright! Jesus, its your funeral, kid. You wanna go play hero? Be my guest. They won’t let you through the front gates without a delivery.”
“Delivery?”
“Three of them ran out that back door, thanks to you, new guy.”
“Where?”
“All the way back home in the Alley probably.”
“The delivery point, smartass.”
LarryDave looked like he wanted to exchange some foul language in turn, but bit his tongue. Instead, Nero received a withering look. “Dunno exactly. The meetup points been that new Ace Chemicals plant on Arkham Island.”
Robin cocked his head. “The one near the old Manor?”
“The very one.”
With a nod, Robin began to walk away towards the now jammed sliding doors. Turning to the side and slipping from the glass panes, Nero followed and ignored LarryDave’s shouting to not leave him to the cops seeing as he only ‘drove the car’.
Nero shivered as soon as they got outside, the Gotham air biting through his coat. Robin remained unaffected in what Nero was becoming less convinced was spandex from the lack of shivering. Typing something into the gauntlet on his wrist, he spoke up. “I have intelligence that Scarecrow’s taken up that area as a base lately. Usually, I have a partner along, but I suppose you’ll be investigating anyway?”
Nero blinked, awkwardly pulling Yamato over his shoulder again as it slipped. “Yeah…?”
With a judgemental look on his face, Robin looked at where Nero was still trying to use Yamato as a Red Queen stand in. “This is not your main weapon?”
“Ah, no. I mean, I’ve got the Red Queen. She’s more falchion than katana so I’m a bit new to the details.” Nero’s eyes trailed to the katana Robin had at his own side. “Yours is sick though. That move set at the end you did was something else.”
“Tch.” Robin said, turning away quickly. Before Nero could ask what the hell ‘tch’ means, he continued on. “So how do you suppose we get there without the ‘delivery’?”
Nero could here the quotations in Robin’s tone of voice, he guessed the guy was above using his fingers for it. Nero shrugged, a reckless sort of energy building in him. Some came from Yamato who hadn’t stopped humming since they’d cut through those demons, the rest from pure exhaustion from sitting on his ass all day.
“You know what? I think these guys might be real quantity over quality guys. Maybe we should reverse that.”
Robin paused, turning back slowly with his lenses narrowed white slits of suspicion.
Nero picked up one of the dollar Halloween masks LarryDave and the others had been wearing. Tossing a spare burlap sack around his neck like a hood and slipping the devil mask over his face, he took a bunch of rope tied at one of the guys’ waists. “…Think I could pass for a Dave?”
Robin closed his eyes, tilting his head back towards the sky. Catching on, he replied gritted through his teeth. “I find it exceedingly generous that ‘Dave’ would’ve been able to restrain me—”
Nero hopped into the front of the van, already vibrating with energy over the fact that he now had his own mode of transportation around this cursed city. Honestly, he blamed Dante for kicking his ass to the curb in the middle of nowhere. Of course he was going to end up in the middle of the case somehow. Having stolen the key’s in LarryDave’s pocket, he popped them into the ignition and revved. When the van rumbled to life, Nero grinned. “A Larry, then.”
Robin said nothing and sighed.
Larry watched helplessly as the white haired Robin loosely tied up the dark haired one in the back of his van before they drove off into the Gotham night. In the distance, he could hear the faint police sirens coming around the block. Kicking a bit of rubble and slumping back onto the snoring lump under him that was Dave, he cursed.
“Crazy fuckin’ sword Robins…”