[center]A collaboration with [@Ariamis]
[hr]
Days in the past, but not many…[/center]

The morning light filtering through the revolving doors of The Bowery, a comfy but unassuming hotel in Penrose, was abruptly scattered in the path of three particular youths entering the hotel. The first to enter, a girl with short black hair, scanned the hotel’s lobby with her grey eyes, noting the beautiful, flowery curtains. The second, a blonde girl in a blue coat, turned mid-stride to check over her shoulder to look at the last of their procession, a young man carrying a plain white mug in his left hand. Whereas the other two carried an air of professionalism into the hotel, he passed over the detailed, similarly rose-patterned carpeting with his right hand casually resting inside his hoodie’s pocket, sparing it a glance past the bags under his eyes.

The grey-eyed girl went straight to the Bowery’s front desk, and waited for the day clerk to offer them a room. The clerk greeted them with a smile, and as she confirmed their names, she seemed surprised. “Oh, we have a room available for you on our VIP floor. Just use this keycard on the elevator interface, and it will take you there automatically. Have a pleasant stay.” She gave the card to black-haired girl, and bowed.

When the three individuals did as instructed, and scanned the card on the interface, the elevator began rising up. Then, it stopped at the fifth floor...When the building only had four floors.

The elevator opened up to what looked like a smoky, shaded [url=https://i.imgur.com/CwEoS9B.jpg]club[/url], furnished in a vintage style, with roses as the motif. There were tables coated in checkered tablecloths with chairs around them, and a wide bar with unnaturally large bottles of liquor, each at least 10 liters in volume if not even more. There was a stage in the back, where faint black shapes wearing fedoras were playing moody jazz.

[hider=Music][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NApul7H-pQ[/youtube][/hider] 

The walls were made of transparent glass, with nothing but darkness stretching out past them, just like the ceiling. The only source of light was from vintage streetlights that were inexplicably scattered around the club; they cast a morose, noir glow on various spots, leaving most of the club in a shade. The three soon realized that everything, including even themselves, was devoid of color; there was nothing but black, white, and shades of grey, like in an old movie.

“Greetings, Miss Rhodes.” The three heard the voice of a man coming from the bar; he was draped in shadows, holding a big bottle of wine, and pouring it to the tiniest cup of glass imaginable; however, even when he emptied out the entire bottle, the glass only seemed to get topped, and just as quickly drank away by a single swig. 

“Welcome to The Bowery.” The man turned on his stool, and stood up. At that moment, the shadows parted, and revealed his [url=https://i.imgur.com/qsgAZKL.jpg]menacing appearance.[/url] He snapped his fingers, and a shadowy shape began mixing more drinks, sliding them on the counter. The drinks bizarrely continued sliding in the dark air, until they stopped on the table right next to them, with not a single drop spilled. 

“Have yourselves a drink; they’re on the house.”

Collector Delta - that is to say, Annabelle Rhodes - briefly directed her attention to the offered glasses, opening her Third Eye as she did so. The glasses themselves were magical in nature (no surprise there, given how much alcohol went into their host's glass) but the liquids within weren't. Delta didn't think he'd be stupid enough to try lacing them with Ichor, or even how much he knew about it to begin with, but in this business it paid dividends to be sure. 

She partly turned her head to Scribe Xi and Lee Richards, nodding slightly. She shifted her gaze back to their host, her Third Eye showing her two more interesting details - that this Interdimensional Apartment belonged to their host, and that said host harbored a lot of power in the general direction of Shadow magic - before she closed it.

[color=gray]“How generous. Was the alcohol made the same time as the decor?”[/color] she said, raising a glass with the hint of an approving(?) smile.

“It’s vintage, if that’s what you’re asking,” he answered, stepping closer towards the group. 

“Give it just the right amount of aging, and it’s a taste that never gets old.” Once he was about ten meters away, he stopped. 
“But I didn’t invite you here to talk trivia, know what I’m sayin’?” He chuckled, the sound reverberating in the bar, causing the bottles on the shelf to jingle.

“You see, my boys and girls have kept an eye on you for a while. You’re new to Penrose, so I thought I’d lend you a hand. Show you the ropes, and whatnot. I’m even willing to deal in some information on more...hot topics.”

"Hot topics only old veterans like yourself can speak easy about?" There was a sound like fingers snapping, and Lee was briefly engulfed in darkness. Three seconds passed, and his outfit had [url=https://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/young_joseph_joestar_anime.png]changed.[/url] He was also carrying an unloaded tommy gun in his mug hand, the right one still in his jacket pocket. "Like writing up a pink slip with a dozen typewriters?" Lee said, gesturing vaguely with the gun. He turned to look over his shoulder at the band, breaking their host's line of sight to the gun. 

When he turned back around he was carrying a mug again. "Ah, but just like we're not here to talk trivia, neither are we measuring each other's..." He gestured towards the glasses with his mug. "Cups. We're here to discuss business, as fellow professionals. It's why we agreed to meet, after all. So why don't we take advantage of your lovely furnishings and do just that?"

The figure’s attention seemed to be drawn at Lee’s mention of the pink slip, but then quickly returned to the jovial expression he had before.

“Glad to hear we’re on the same level; the less explanations I have to make, the better. Ah, I should introduce myself; Al Scarpe. Have a seat.” He sat down, his elbows on the table as he clenched his knuckles.

“Here’s the beef; our business here at the Bowery has kissed the curb. For a couple of reasons.” He leaned back to take something out of his jacket; it was an envelope.  “First off, the Golden Grove.” He threw down a photograph on the table, in a manner similar to a playing card in poker. “It’s got a big problem with the conditioning; lots of filth around, it’s a danger to everyone. We need some handymen who can ‘air’ the place out, and clean it.”

Next, he threw down another photograph; it was a mugshot of a girl, with the name Binky written on the back.

“We also lost one of our ‘amicos’. She’s a dear member of the family, so I want her returned safe and sound. If you do this job,” he then took out a Black Coin, and flicked it with his thumb. “You’ll be given due compensation.”

Collector Delta scanned over the photos carefully. [color=gray]“...well, the jobs you want done are interesting enough...”[/color] She took a slight sip from her drink.

Scribe Xi spoke up. [color=blue]“If it's all the same to you, though, we'd like to see this in writing.”[/color]

"You know how important good bookkeeping is in business, Al. You don't mind if I call you Al?" Lee said, putting down the mug. He took the Coin with his left hand. He turned it over with his fingers as he talked. "It helps keep track of the coin, whether you're really in the black or the [color=ed1c24]red[/color]." The Coin vanished mid-trick at that last word. "Making sure no one's cooking in the library," he continued, the Coin visible again as he resumed turning it over. "You know how it is. Dealing in good faith is well and good, so long as you know that faith is good."

Al smiled, and took a swig from his glass. “You’re as shrewd as you’re pretty, miss Rhodes,” he responded, and pulled out another envelope. This one had a wax seal, the emblem on it resembling a black rose. “Lucky for you, I got a contract ready.” With a flick of his wrist, the wax seal burned off in dark flames, and a small sheet of paper flew out; it seemed to be magically animated as it spun down to the table. The terms were simple enough; in exchange for services made, including but not limited to the destruction of the Golden Grove hotel and the retrieval of the target Magical Girl, the Archive would be paid for in Black Coins and intelligence. Scanning the contract with Third Eye would not reveal anything more. “Now watch; I’ll make this pen...Appear.” He pressed his palm to the table, and when he lifted it, a black fountain pen was in his hand. While such a feat would seem mundane in their world, Delta would notice that she couldn’t see any appliance of magic with her Third Eye. “Ta-daah. Now, I just need you to sign it, and we’re in business.”

Delta looked over the document in question… and frowned. She scanned the document several times with her Third Eye to confirm what she was seeing here. All it said was that for ‘services made, including but not limited to’ the tasks mentioned in slightly more explicit terms than what he’d just described them with, they’d be paid for in ‘Black Coins and intelligence.’

[color=gray]“If you really think that I’m as shrewd as I am pretty,”[/color] Delta said, her tone perfectly cool and collected. [color=gray]“Then that means if you honestly expect me to sign this contract as it’s worded, you must think I’m pretty fucking ugly. Because according to the insultingly vague way it’s currently written, by sticking to the letter of the contract you could get away with paying us with two Black Coins and the directions to the nearest [i]Starbucks[/i].”[/color]

Al flipped his fedora up as he leaned back on his seat, placing his feet on the table in a carefree manner. “You got me there, hah. I didn’t specify the exact payment, nor the deadline when they should be handed out.” He took the contract, and pulled out what looked like a lighter, setting it on fire. However, bizarrely enough, the paper didn’t burn to cinders, but instead glowed from the intense flames dancing over it, with Al holding it without seeming to mind it; the letters on the paper floated and shifted on the paper as he pressed his pen against it. “Now, how about you tell me what you really want, and I’ll jot it down. Doesn’t that sound better?”

Collector Delta said nothing. Then she stood up from the table. [color=gray]“Scribe Xi. Lee. We’re leaving.”[/color] Then she turned her back on Al Scarpe, and started walking towards the exit, her companions close behind her.

“Well, this is a nice dumpster fire,” Lee said cheerfully, waving over his shoulder at Al with his mug hand. “Have fun reporting this fuck-up to your higher-ups.” 

Al’s eyes were hidden by the brim of his hat as he chuckled menacingly. “Oh, already putting your chips down, are we?” At that moment, the exit disappeared, swallowed up by the very shadows that filled the entire space, leaving no escape. The music in the place then changed in tone.

[hider=Music][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HO2Mb2WffdA[/youtube][/hider]

“But we’ve just started talking. Why don’t you calm down, and really reconsider?” He spoke up, lifting the brim of his hat. Delta and the others could feel how the shadows in the room seemed to extend, giving a more ominous atmosphere. “It would be an easy job for folks as talented as you.” 

Collector Delta calmly took Scribe Xi’s hand, and started scanning the room with her Third Eye; she could see that Al’s magic had spread to every corner of the room, like creeping tendrils of darkness. 

“Oh come on now,” Lee started. “It’s obvious we’re wasting our time here.” He gestured vaguely with the mug. “It doesn’t matter if the way you’re doing it is because of the paper, the pen, the ink, or even your own magic. You’ve already displayed the ability to change whatever’s written on that paper you’re holding at will. Your cheat’s been exposed, [i]bambino[/i].” Lee then tilted his head to indicate the darkness surrounding them. “And considering that you’ve just tried to get us back to the table by slamming your metaphysical dick on it, you’ve proven that you’re not interested in dealing fairly.”

Something in Lee’s posture radiated menace. “Unless, of course, you realized refusal meant it’ll be chopped off. Your dick, that is.”

“...A cheat?” Al pondered the word, and lifted his legs off the table. “Ma’m, I’m running a business here. Everything I’ve said is the truth. And this contract,” he extended his hand, and the paper swirled around it. “It’s made of the oldest of magics. Power so great even gods must honor it. Assuming I actually wanted to write up the terms on the fly, I couldn’t possibly change the words in it once the contract has been formed. And that only happens when both parties are touching the contract. What you see,” he threw it like a playing card, letting Lee catch it. “Is exactly what you get.”

The paper clinked against Lee’s mug, which hadn’t moved from his hand since Al made his toss. And, much like it had been all during this meeting, Lee’s right hand stayed firmly inside his jacket pocket. He simply watched as it fluttered lamely to the floor. Al also observed as the paper laid still on the floor. A moment later, it fluttered up, and began floating before Lee. “You can stare at it as long as you want, that won’t change the truth,” he added.

Lee's tone was persistently casual, though Al Scarpe could feel menace radiating from his direction like the rays of the sun. "...heh. You know, for an agent of the Mint, you're actually starting to be interesting.”

"But you know," Lee continued. "It's funny. Here you talk of what you see is exactly what you get... when you've been staring at nothing for a little while now."

Lee started to withdraw his right hand from his pocket, and- [center][b]85585888858558885888588558888555558555588888558588585588858858888558888588888858885[/b][/center]
[color=gray]"Did you get all of that?"[/color] Collector Delta said. She was sitting in front of the photos, still where they lay on the table. For that matter, Scribe Xi and Lee Richards were sitting in the same chairs they'd occupied since they first sat down, with a chair between the latter and Al. Nothing new there. The contract lay on the table in front of him, his pen was in his hand - and his hand felt like he's been writing with it for some time. 

[color=gray]"You've done a good job keeping pace, but it would be understandable if you needed to consult Scribe Xi's notes on the exact wording we agreed upon so far."[/color]

Al didn’t respond immediately, his hand unnaturally fast as it wrote down and erased Collector Delta’s terms with perfect precision. When she was done, he chuckled. “I don’t need to consult your people, ma’m,” he responded, back to his jovial mannerisms. “It’s all written down.” With a dramatic flourish, he signed his name in the bottom. And then, slowly slid the flat paper across the table. ”Now, all it needs is your signature. Then, once we both touch it, it becomes official.”

Collector Delta took a moment to carefully read over Al Scarpe’s handwriting… then closed her eyes and sighed. According to this draft of the contract, the terms essentially boiled down to this: In a time of three months starting from the day the contract was formed, services by the Archive, including but not limited to the destruction of the Golden Grove hotel, the assassination of its magical residents and the retrieval of the target Magical Girl to Al Scarpe, are to be made and paid for in Black Coins, intelligence, and US Dollars. Which, while a great deal better written than Scarpe’s first offer…

She looked off to Scarpe's side for a moment. [color=gray]“...very well then,”[/color] Delta said. Her tone and expression were unreadable.

In the background, the music stopped. The musicians looked at their instruments in confusion. Their attempts to keep playing were only met with the same persistent, consistent results. The saxophone player let out mighty breaths, pressing the buttons furiously, but there was only silence. The pianist tried every key in front of them, even resorting to reaching into it to test the hammers with their dark fingers, but there was only silence. The bassist put more effort into their bow hand, gliding it across the strings with increasing passion and desperation… but there was only silence.

All those musicians could hear was the silence, howling in their shadowy ears.

Collector Delta simply sat in her chair, her expression and posture suggesting no menace at all. Likewise was the case with Scribe Xi. Lee drank from his mug, but all just as silent as the musicians.

One second, the vacant chair at the table was simply sitting where it was. Right next to Scarpe’s own, as it had been.

And in the space of a blink, it was a foot away from the table. There was no visible way it could have moved, nor could Scarpe recall any movement from it. It was just there.

Another blink. A specter towered over him, in the form of a powerful and foreboding man wearing a heavy World War II-style trenchcoat. From behind a pair of thick sunglasses, Al Scarpe could physically feel the weight of that cold, disapproving stare, even if he couldn’t truly see it. 

Al immediately recognized who it was; even the absurdly powerful Ebon Mint coin broker tensed up at their sudden presence. “So you finally arrived,” he spoke calmly, having lifted his head just enough so that he saw from under the brim of his hat, as if shielding himself from directly looking at them. The musicians stopped, and the club fell even further into silence. All eyes were on the new arrival. “For the Blind Man, you give a hard look. Can’t say that about any of our other ‘special’ clients.” He took a look at Delta and the others, then back to the trenchcoat-wearing entity. “Then again, only few of them make personal appearances, so in that sense, you’re extra special. I suppose there is a reason you needed to manifest in the Prime Material.”

[color=chocolate]"Been here the whole time,"[/color] said the Blind Man. He spoke at a slow, measured pace. [color=chocolate]"Erasing the memories of my presence, from your mind and those of your subordinates. A test of how you would treat my chosen. A balanced deal. Aware and unaware that I was here."[/color]

The Blind Man gave Al Scarpe a moment to process those thoughts. [color=chocolate]"You performed better than your peers," he continued. "Barely. So you will be the messenger. Or the eighty-fifth."[/color]

“Yeah, I figured,” Al responded, respecting the otherworldly being’s abilities. “I advise to refrain from tampering with our memories from here on. While we prefer to stay professional in these matters, we don’t lack the expertise to throw a troublemaker out of the house...No matter who they may be.” He tapped the brim of his hat. “But for now, I’ll let you keep those; think of it as a tribute of good will. Anyway, glad to have passed the bill. I’ll let my boss know that you’re a wiseguy.”

The Blind Man didn’t comment on that last sentence. [color=chocolate]“Now. To negotiate the terms once more. With your memories uninterrupted from this point onwards.”[/color]

[hr]
“...And you have the right to deny any requests we make of you, as specified. Alright, that’s all,” Al spoke, after the terms were finalized. He held the contract out to the Blind Man. “Now, if you would be so kind...”

The Blind Man took the contract, regarded it one final time… then signed it, apparently satisfied.

While the Horror was still clutching it, Al looked at it, and nodded. “And with that...” He tapped the paper with his index finger; a whooshing sound could be heard from the paper as it rustled like in a strong wind, before it turned calm; the words on it were now engraved in golden letters.

“...The contract is established. Thank you for your patronage.” He snapped his fingers, and the shadows twisted on the back wall, forming an elevator door in the same spot it was where Delta’s group first entered the club from.

“I’ll keep in touch...But if anybody asks, we never met.”

Collector Delta left the glass on the table. [color=gray]“Thank you for your time,”[/color] she said, before walking away.

Scribe Xi simply got up from her seat. She made their way towards the elevator, following Collector Delta. 

The Blind Man left the table in silence.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Lee said. Mid stride and back turned, he raised his mug as if to toast, before sipping from it.

They all stood within the elevator for a moment, before the doors finally closed. Al took a sip from his glass. “I wonder what’s gonna break first, Veronica: your stubbornness, or your little Cradle...”

...

According to Scribe Xi's phone, they'd left the Bowery in the general area of lunchtime. While Grandfather wasted no time vanishing into the streets of Penrose alone, the members of his Archive chose to go and grab something to eat. After slipping into the Catacombs for a moment, the three of them emerged halfway across town, in the Morioh Town area. Fortunately for them, there were still plenty Pope Layton
sandwiches available, so they got themselves three sandwiches and a table.

About halfway through their [url=https://i.imgur.com/XSNhDYk.jpg]ketsu sandwiches[/url], there was a notification on Scribe Xi's phone about a new text from Chloe. [i][color=violet]"I need to talk about our arrangements."[/color][/i] There was a follow-up text with what looked to be her current location.

[color=blue]"It's not that far from here,"[/color] she noted, sipping from a bottled cola. [color=blue]"We could probably just walk over without any fanfare."[/color]

Delta looked over at Lee. [color=gray]Would you like to come with us?[/color]

Lee shook his head. "Thanks, but she's more familiar with you two. Don't worry, I'll catch up later." 

Xi tapped out her reply, then hit SEND. [i][color=blue]"We'll be there in 10 minutes."[/color][/i] She got up from the table, finishing her drink. [color=blue]"Alright, then. Let's get going."[/color]

As the girls left Pope Layton to meet with their client, Lee sipped from his mug. Then, about a minute later, he sighed. 

While Lee sat there, alone in Pope Layton, a figure landed on a nearby rooftop. They smiled, before placing a mask onto their face. A mask with a bright [color=ed1c24]red[/color] letter [color=red][b]「A」[/b][/color] in the center.

[img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/415785156096557058/487780721419616287/med.png?width=200&height=45[/img]