Chapter Text
Truthfully, things had felt wrong from the start. But hindsight is a fickle thing, that much, they are all very aware of. Sure, eyebrows had been raised, curiosity peaked when the woman had entered. Really though, who could have expected any of it?
The bar is not a very classy locale, nor does it look like upstanding-looking people like her should visit it. Everyone knows that, hell, its owner is aware of this fact. Those with 'good, proper morals and manners' do not look at a place called 'the Warren', and definitely not twice.
And never do they enter it.
It is still a good bar, funtional and profitable. Beyond that, it's a haven for those frequenting it, a safe space. Peaceful ground, courtesy of the bouncer, a tall woman with soft blond hair, a friendly voice, and a lot of flesh under brown skin. Both of the kind that made her a looker, and the kind that made her capable of forcefully ejecting people very easily.
Just like the owner, the bouncer speaks with a distinct australian accent. It isn't the only thing they share, the most prominent other being a deep friendship. They are the most regular of what amounts to the bar's staff. Others would appear from time to time, all the same with their warmth and friendly attitudes, and close-knit relations to the owner.
So yes, the bar is not considered nice by many. Certainly, it is old, dim because the lights aren't exactly bright and expensive to replace. The chairs made out of aged wood, as is the bar, covered in the scars of decades of use. And the booths have extremely worn-out cushions.
But it is friendly, open to anybody who needs a place to drink. Or, to wallow in misery. The atmosphere is warm and cozy, the music never too loud or crass unless specifically requested.
And it happens to be this atmosphere that makes them like being here, their group of five. People usually don't bother any of them, most know them even in a positive manner. The owner certainly does, greeting them with her large toothy grin. The bouncer waves kindly, taller most of them.
By no means is there a spot reserved for their group, but they are the most regular patrons. Perhaps even the most popular ones, considering the name that the biker group known as 'Advent' has made themselves.
People greet them, swap pleasentries. Now and again, words of importance are exchanged, for Advent is very active in the local community. Those who know them a bit closer even trade jabs and insults.
All in good cheer.
There was no cheer when that woman had entered.
She is out of place. More than just her look, prim and proper, elegant business and aesthetic perfection all in one. Compared to the aged and used look of the Warren, only a blind person may be unable to see the contrast.
But even such an individual would have likely been able to notice the woman's entrance. Appearances are not the only source of conflict here. For lack of a better term, her vibe is entirely off. Against the warmth of the bar, she carries herself in coldness. While people tend to be cordial, even to strangers, she excudes a far more authorative air.
Weakened, however, by the way she looks around the room.
Mococo is the first one to notice and the first one to stare, eyes following the woman. Her twin sister Fuwawa, ever in sync, joins in only a second later. Baby blue and pink are affixed on the woman, who stands in the doorway to the Warren.
Very fitting to its name, the bar is accessed not directly from the street, but by heading down an alleyway that opens up into a small lot between buildings. Not big enough for cars, but certainly for bikes. Most people thusly do not spot the place, or have the courage to enter it.
Someone like this woman is definitely not the type to do so. They regard the people here as shady and untrustworthy, especially Advent. They have the look of delinquents about them.
The twins for example have an attitude that screams 'troublemakers' with torn and spiked jackets and rather daring clothing underneath. They mix black and white with either pink or blue. Their animalistic features, canine ears, furry tails, and sharp teeth, only accentuate it all.
Shiori meanwhile fully goes into the direction of goth, stylish and beautiful with her black and white hair. The brightness of her eyes has a tendency to unsettle people and she sometimes stares purpose to freak them out. The presence and usage of an elegant pair of scissors, often for not scissor-appropriate tasks, only furthers her strangeness.
Biboo, their smallest member, meanwhile leans into near cyberpunk territory. A black skirt, with her upper body only getting a top that looks like a mix between a corset and a vest. The large jacket with neon-purple, cushion-like inside looks weird on her as much as it just fits. Especially when the hood is up.
Lastly, Nerissa. Who attempts with various success to look 'street' and 'rugged' and 'mean', while never quite managing to escape being a elegant diva who has learned how to dress well. In recent times, she has stopped trying so hard and settled on an asthetic that can be best described as 'modern witch'. Her clothes are soft, dark colours. There is smokey make-up around her eyes, sometimes with blue mixed between the black. Her horns would have crowned the look, if one wasn't broken.
They are a group most people of 'higher class' would prefer not to cross in dark alleyways, or sit near in bars. But in these streets, and the Warren, they are welcome. People know them, they trust them. Their appearance, as dangerous as they might seem to many, is one somehow still in line with this place. Advent belongs here.
This woman, however, is not. And so, they all stare at her. None would admit to being unnerved by this individual, who almost feels like an intruder. Yet, the bad feeling is there. It does not want to leave.
She appears to take in the Warren, either not noticing or caring how everyone is looking at her. Patrons, bouncer, owner, they all stare, as if waiting to see if this newcomer is about to reveal herself as a customer or a threat. A silly thought, perhaps. But one still present in more than one mind.
Then, she walks to the bar in slow, measured steps.
There is something wrong with her, Mococo decides as the object of everyone's wary curiosity sits down on a bar stool. Something incredibly wrong, to the point it leaves the canine woman with goosebumps.
She looks to her twin and sees the exact same feeling in baby pink eyes that meet her own. The sisters communicate without a single word, even as their groupmates continue to stare.
"You think she's bad news?" Biboo remarks under her breath.
The twins answer as one, out of pure instinct, guided by their shared gut feeling. "Yeah."
Nobody answers to that. They all just watch.
It is, Mococo decides, the body language, that gives the clearest indication. The woman has sat on the furthest end of the bar, which describes a simple L-shape. The longer part starts on the same wall where the entrance is, meaning the shorter end is facing that direction as well. A good spot if you want to make sure nobody enters without you immediately spotting them.
And from their group's location in the both, they can see the woman in profile.
She is remarkable to look at. Long, perfectly maintained red hair. Deep and striking crimson eyes. Barely any make-up, but what the twins can spot only enhances the appearance of a near-perfect individual.
Her clothing is a finely made suit, it's tail ends flaring out like a dress behind her. The colour a pure marble-white with accents of red and blue. Bright and visible, elegant to the point of looking like something old aristocracy would wear. Her shoes have slight heels, enough to grant height and a distinct gait, but still more practical than stilettoes.
And yet, her body language.
Stiff beyond formality, it looks forced and uncomfortable.
Then, her arms. The elegant jacket makes it hard to see, but Mococo and Fuwawa have great senses and lots of experience, so they can spot how much the woman's muscles are tensing underneath the cloth. Or how strongly her gloved hands are clenching on her own biceps.
The newcomer is on guard, nervous to the point of being jumpy. Perhaps even afraid. And yet, she is here.
Neither of the sisters makes the mistake of thinking the Warren has no effect on its new patron. No, not with how those crimson eyes dart around in seconds, only to then stare forward again. In this way that people behave when they do not want to be caught staring at others, so they force themselves to glare forward into emptieness. And yet they are unable to not constantly survey their surroundings.
"She looks far to fancy for this place. Too pretty as well." Shiori mumbles.
Next to her, Nerissa puts a hand onto her chin and simply nods. Normally, there would be an act of being offended at the comment. Not this time, instead, the diva joins in analyzing this unusual individual.
"Honestly, I would put her outfit for a business-meeting. A fancy one, at an expensive restaurant, between highest ranking individuals of big corpos." The horned woman begins to guess. Her family is also rather well-off. Nerissa hates admitting that in front of those not as fortunate as her, but they, and by extension her, are richer than most. And her family gave her many a useful thing, including a lot of useful perspective. "She looks like she would have fit in there as well, with her posture-"
"Too forced." Mococo growls quietly. "All stiff, tense. Not like you, you're very natural at it. She isn't."
"She's not doing well." Fuwawa remarks.
Mococo nods in sync with her sister. "Noet at all."
"Pretty sure she has noticed us staring." Biboo whispers. None of them look away though.
The red-haired woman's eyes move far too quickly and never linger to be certain of it anyhow. And, if their group stops staring, she would not become any less tense. Of that, each of them is certain.
Also, their curiosity wants to be satiated.
Baelz has finally approached her new customer at the bar. From their booth, they can only see the movements of lips, one set plain, the other with deep blue lipstick. The woman barely says anything, but Bae seems taken aback before slowly nodding.
"Wait is that… yikes!" Shiori shakes her head at what she sees.
Her object of disbelief is a rather familiar bottle. The alcohol in it is strong and from what they can see, barely anything is added to it. Certainly nothing that would soften the impact, or better the taste.
They had once used parts of that bottle for an incredibly stupid drinking game. All in good fun, for the thrill of it.
There is neither fun nor thrill here. And it only gets worse when the woman throws back the shot far too quickly. Its a sadly well-known sight. The way of drinking of someone wishing to escape.
Or, sometimes, to ruin themselves.
The five women look between each other. None of them know this individual, who waltzed in here as if entering a dragon's den. Uncertain, uncomfortable, fearful even, but still without turning back at all.
And who immediately orders a refill of the same, horribly potent drink. Bae complies but shoots a subtle motion to Sana, so that the bouncer knows to stay near. Not just in case this woman suddenly becomes aggressive, but if anything at all happens.
The second glass' contents disappears as quickly as the first. Should a third be ordered, it is very likely that Bae will simply refuse.
Advent carefully observes this woman, latching onto every single detail they can make out. How her face twitches, emotions struggling hidden beneath a porcelain mask. The way her arms return to being crossed in front of her, not even leaning on the bar counter, but instead pressed against the woman's chest. Even her legs, which stick together tightly, are drawn upwards the barstool.
A few minutes tick by like this, before the surprising happens. Crimson eyes turn without the head following, locking onto Advent. They all flinch in shock of suddenly being fixated by a stare.
"Wow." Nerissa breathes, torn between amazement of this woman's beauty, and worry about her attitude. "She looks… wild. Not in a good way."
Indeed, the others can see it as well. The woman's eyes are wide, as if she is haunted by something. Or hunted by someone. They flit between the members of Advent, back and forth, lingering only for a second each.
For their part, the group does not back down. It is a strange sight that does not go unnoticed by the few other individuals in the bar. The bouncer carefully moves just a tad closer. For safety, though at this point it is a bit hard to tell who's.
Then, the woman slides off the barstool and swiftly approaches their booth, heels clacking like a timer. Ticking down until doom arrives.
The five barely have a moment to exchange glances between each other before the newcomer stands before them. She is tall. Perhaps not quite on Nerissa's level, but certainly taller than most of them.
The atmosphere is tense, as nobody knows what is going to happen next. Are they going to have to defend each other from a crazed maniac? Is there going be to some form of challenge? All of them have experienced being looked down upon, being mistreated, or worse. None is a stranger to hostile attitudes and all are willing to resist, especially for each other.
"Can I be with you?" The red-haired woman blurts. Her voice is smooth, elegant like herself, with that sort of british accents one would expect from a person of standing. Charming, knowledged, capable of wrapping both men and women around her finger.
That is, in any situation but this one. Where this voice is corrupted by alcohol, marred by being too tense, speaking way too quickly.
Once again, the five members of Advent exchange looks. They are all uncertain. But there is not really a reason to say no, for this woman seems genuine, not duplicitous or hostile. No, she seems, if anything, desperate.
"Sure." Shiori says, nominally their leader, reading the opinion of each of her friend's with practised ease. "Make yourself comfortable."
The twins and Biboo scoot over, making space for the newcomer to join them in the booth. Five individuals fit in here without problem. Six make it a bit tight, especially since their smallest member ensures there is quite a bit of space between herself and the red-head.
Nobody says anything, as the biker group does not know what to do now. The woman just looks at her gloved hands. Awkward is the silence as minutes tick by, evident by the clock above the bar. Bae and Sana are shooting them cautious glances, making sure everything is alright.
"So… can we ask for your name?" Nerissa decides to begin, choosing the direct path. The woman's eyes shoot up to her far too quickly, accompanied by a sharp turn of the head. It is beginning to breach the line of crazieness.
"…" Those crimson eyes are just staring at the well-dressed diva. Wide and direct, as if trying to unravel the other woman entirely. Next to her Shiori narrows her eyes and glances over to Biboo. The small member is balling up her fists, as if readying herself for a fight.
"No." The answer is also just blurted out. Then, the woman looks back down at her gloved hands, which are grasping each other tightly. She shifts her arms, crossing them again against her own chest. If it weren't for the cover, her knuckles would surely be white from the the force of her grip, directed only at herself.
"Just… call me Erb. I don't… I want to… not matter."
I wish to forget, is what the woman likely wants to say. The atmosphere at the table isn't getting any better.
"Alright, Erb." Shiori says slowly. She looks around at her friends, than at the bar. Bae is watching them with a worried frown. The owner makes a motion, indicating one of them to come over. In response the goth nods slightly and stands up. "Hey, I will be right back, gonna get us some refreshments. The usual for everyone?"
It is an excuse to leave, so she doesn't take it into account that their sudden addition would also want something. "Yes, one for me as well. I'll pay."
Nobody wants to ask if she was indicating the desire to pay for the entire round. This woman, Erb, still isn't looking up. Had she not been the one choosing to be here, in this bar and at this table, one could assume her presence to be forcefully ensured.
"Alright. Then, what do you want?" Shiori asks carefully, brushing some of her black and white hair behind an ear. As an answer she just gets a shrug, noncommittal and still incredibly tense. As the goth woman leaves, she subtly glances over her shoulder several times.
Even when she is at the bar, Erb is not looking at her, not once. No paranoia, no attention, not even a hint of caution. It raises her hackles at this brazen lack if self-preservation. This is like someone entered a dragon's den. Not even as an armored and armed knight. No, a noble woman, if not a princess, who sat down right in front of where the dragon would be.
Willingly, despite the potential outcome. The logical one. Her stomach sinks as the pieces click together.
"Just give me something gentle for her." She whispers to Bae, who nods and prepares a soft drink.
"Shiorin, who da fuck is that?!" The rat-woman hisses as she puts together a tablet with everyone's chosen liquid refreshment.
"No idea man." Shiori hisses back, looking over her shoulder again. The twins are talking about something and the woman is looking, no, staring at them. The goth really cannot tell how much the alcohol is already affecting Erb, if at all.
"I don't like this." Sana whispers as she joins her friend and the regular at the bar. "She looks… I don't know."
"Haunted. Afraid. Completely out of place. On the edge." Shiori takes the tablet into her hands, careful to balance it correctly. Her throat bobs from a heavy swallow. "Like she is here to make bad decisions."
And not just getting herself shit-faced.
Because why else would someone like this enter a dive like the Warren? A person who clearly comes from circles that would only have the worst of assumptions about a bar such as this.
Only to then drink heavy alcohol and approach a group of five troublemaker-looking women who just kept on staring. All the while ignoring any potential warning signs, throwing any caution to the wind.
It makes Shiori incredibly worried. Not for her friends, nor the bar. But for Erb, or whatever this woman's true name is. She has seen people sink into despair, or be victim to horrible situations. Folk that are hurting, wounded, broken. Never like this, though.
Never so willingly, ignorant of all self-preservation instincts.
As Shiori approaches, the twins are grasping each other's hands under the table. Erb had just asked a question, innocent on its own but problematic with context.
"Ah. Can you answer?" The woman's crimson eyes shift to the goth who is setting down the tablet. She waits as everybody else uses the chance to grab their usual, before grabbing…
Shiori's drink.
It does not go unnoticed by any of them. How Erb disregarded the capped bottle, impossible to spike and thus relatively safe, and went for the open glass. One she has received from someone she doesn't even know the name of and has zero reason to trust.
Fuwawa clenches the hand of her sister even stronger, who returns the gesture. It is the only way they can suppress both tail and ears going wild in discomfort. Next to Erb, Biboo is staring with wide eyes. She looks as if she wants to yell, but even the small punk doesn't seem to know whether in anger or concern.
And so, nobody does anything as Erb throws back this drink as well. Thankfully, Shiori's usual does not have any alcohol either. Numbly, she takes the remaining bottle and opens it, sipping slowly.
"So, while you were gone, our new… friend here asked us a question." Nerissa begins carefully, playing with her own drink. "She, well, wanted to know what we do here 'for fun'."
"Yes." Erb nods strongly. She fixes every one of them with her crimson eyes, provoking goosebumps again. The woman blinks several times, but remains perfectly steady. If that alcohol earlier has any effect on her, it barely shows. "So?"
Shiori doesn't want to answer, because she fears whatever she says will not be taken well. She worries what this woman is seeking here and why she has chosen Advent for it.
"We just kinda talk?" Biboo answers, pushing down her own emotions. "Not much else really. Hang around, have some drinks, have some light fun-"
"Fun. Yes. Looking for that too." Erb interjects, far too rushed, and looks down at the woman besides her who shrinks back a bit. "Honestly, I don't really want to talk any more today. Those bikes outside yours?"
The sudden change in topics sparks a new round of glances between Advent. The vehicles indeed belong to them, all five. Each is uniquely styled and fits perfectly to the owner. If one were to have seen both, connecting them to each other would be a rather simple task.
Advent is in a pickle. The red-head is obviously expecting an answer and they cannot simply remain quiet. But, anything said is ground given that cannot be taken back. It is a losing battle, unless they want to show resistance to someone who in this moment doesn't seem very stable.
Nerissa is the one to speak up again, worry mixed with an almost morbid curiosity. "Yeah, they are."
Finding some courage, Mococo joins in. But even then, her eyes are carefully regarding this strange woman. "We like to drive around together. Its nice."
"It feels free." Fuwawa chimes in, noting the sudden desperate excitement hidden beneath the far too stiff mask on the woman's face. The canine-woman's ears barely keep upright, when they want to flatten themselves in discomfort.
They all have a feeling about the question that is about to be leveled at them. A request no sane person would make, to anybody they had just met, barely really talked to, and accepted unchecked drinks from.
"Freedom." Erb drawls and for once, her mask slips. She longs for it, that much is clear. "I would love that. Never did ride a bike before, or anything really, not on my own. Is fine though."
"Hey." Nerissa reaches out but does not touch, her hand halfway across the table. A sign of wishing to connect, to help, but still respecting boundaries. Her own eyes, coloured like wine and slitted, plead with honest worry. "Are you alright, Erb?"
There is no answer, only an empty stare. It is somehow the most genuine that this woman has been with them. Her face is slack, looking back with widened eyes that are at the same time emotionless while conveying so much.
Biboo sees an incredible sadness. A sort of unique sorrow that she cannot comprehend to its fullness, making her chest ache terribly. The small woman wants to run away from this, because it reminds her too much of things and people she would much rather forget. The soles of her feet itch in response.
The twins see pain and terror. Both in form of past experiences and future expactations. Fuwawa clasps her hands before her face, she cannot stop herself anymore. Her twin similarly gives up on not letting their reactions show, biting on her knuckle. Their low whine goes unnoticed by everyone else.
Shiori realizes the full extent of what is happening here, that this woman came to the Warren with the sole purpose of ruining herself. Or rather, letting someone ruin her. She never tried to avoid danger, she sought it out. And it rattles the goth to the core, because she doesn't know what to do in this situation.
But Nerissa does.
"Alright then. If you want, I can take you for a ride. So you can be free."
There is no smile, no change on the woman's face or in her bared emotions. Only a simple whisper. "Please."
Shiori looks at her friend, silently asking her to stop, but Nerissa just shakes her head. Then, she stands up. In short sucession, everyone else rises as well. They head for the exit and nobody stops them. Bae will put their bill onto Advent's tap, including the newcomer's drinks, for now. It is an unspoken agreement between them, to be handled at a later point.
They step outside into the cold evening air. The sun is going down, the city is slowly getting darker. And here they are. Five of bikers and one forlorn woman. In front of them, their vehicles, promising a swift getaway. Freedom, as per their own words.
Numbly, they begin to put on helmets and biker gloves, throwing glances to where Erb is standing very close to Nerissa. The red-head is breathing strongly, as if anticipating something. Hyping herself up for it. She barely sways, but it is clear that now her previous drinks are messing with her system.
Even so, she does not appear as if ready to back down.
A soft tap on the white trousers bring Erb's attention away from the horned woman who has declared herself ready to be her ride into the unknown. Crimson eyes look down at Biboo, who meets their gaze with a desperation of her own.
"Please… please don't try to do this. Its going to be alright, please-"
But Erb simply looks away again, taking the spare helmet Nerissa is holding hesitantly. The smaller woman swallows heavily and turns, wiping furiously at her own eyes to get rid of the tears starting to form. One of the twins pats her on the back.
Only a bit later, they are all ready. Their new passenger sitting behind Nerissa, arms around the horned woman's waist.
"Everyone good?" Shiori asks redundantly. Advent nods, Erb doesn't respond.
"Hey, uh." Mococo speaks up to their new addition. It is, and all of them know that, one last attempt to give this woman an out. "Where should we drop you off?"
"Nowhere." Is the empty response they receive, threatening to break their hearts. "Just drive me wherever you want to."
And so they do. Cold air whips past them, as they make their way through the streets. Nothing stands in their way, all is empty. This is their domain, to do what they want, to breath and simply be.
It should be exhiliterating. It should be wonderful.
Today, it is just solemn.
-o0o-
Nerissa can fortunately tell when her riding partner starts to lose herself. It begins in the way the other's head thuds against her own back. Then, the weakening on the formerly tight and strong hold her passenger had on the diva's waist. So the horned woman immediately signals her friends, before taking one hand off her bike to secure a hold on her passenger.
Fuwawa calls out to Shiori who leads their convoy and immediately their leader begins to veer off the road so that they can stop. They have left the dense city at this point, preferring the less populated outskirts. But, they didn't leave it entirely, in case this exact thing were to happen. Because this way, they don't have to drive much towards most places they could potentially drop their passenger off.
It was just a matter of waiting until the alcohol and exhaustion starts to hit strong enough for the red-head to begin to fall asleep. So that she cannot try and insist on anything else. Or do something regrettable. Even if such a tactic is necessary however, it sits badly with all of them.
"So, what do we do now?" Biboo huffs, looking away from Erb, who is barely able to stand at this point. The red-haired woman is still clinging to Nerissa, mumbling something untintelligable. "We don't know where she lives."
"Darling, can you tell us?" Nerissa tries again, but the one practically hanging from her doesn't respond. So, she gives her friends a helpless look.
There are not many options. Really, there is only the Warren, any of their friends' houses, or their own. And can they really burden anybody else with this?
"We don't have any good options." Shiori curses angrily. "No matter what we do. This all just… sucks."
Her sentiment is shared. But there is truly nothing they can think of. They will be doing exactly what was expected, if not outright asked, from them. By a woman willing and intending to make one big mistake in her life, for whatever horrible reason.
The twins carefully approach Nerissa and Erb, stopping just before the other two women. Their tails move nervously as they stare at the poor soul in front of them. Her state sparks a feeling in them. They want to help. All of Advent wishes to, really. What holds them back is uncertainty, because none of them knows how.
Even now, an hour later, they are overwhelmed by it all. The suddenness, the rapid reveal of information and yet its utter lack. Leaving them vaguely aware of what is happening but blind to the grander picture. And so, they can only act on combined gut feeling.
"Shiori." Mococo says quietly.
"We have to." Fuwawa adds.
Their leader sighs, takes over her helmet and buries her face in both hands.
"I know. I know." The goth looks up at her friends, sharing their tired resolve.
"Let's bring her home."