silver tongue | nemo + tate

[gamemaker kelsier]

n e m o .

"I got my silver tongue
I've got nothing on you
And all the things you do
Yeah, I've got nothing on you"

It was rough, the brickwork against his back and Nemo laughed a little, bending near in half with his scraped palms using his knees for support. That hadn't gone so well for him, which he'd sort of expected but had still been optimistic. It had been weeks since his first run-in with this particular gang and maybe he'd been hoping that they'd forgotten him a little, but it seemed that they were still pretty pissed off.

People these days just really didn't take kindly to a good old flash grenade through the front window but what was he supposed to have done? Knocked? Yeah, Hi there, If you pay me five hundred dollars I won't throw this grenade through your window, deal? would have gone so well. That only ever worked if he looked like a credible threat and the best way to do that was started with some fear tactics, such as but not limited to, a harmless little flash grenade through a front window.

Yeah, there was a method to the madness, albeit roundabout and probably a little bit messy. Still, with enough harassment and once they realized they couldn't just swat him like the pest he was, this gang would bend to his will as all the others had. They just needed a little coaxing.

Nemo leaned back, tipping his head briefly against the brick before stiffening, the sound of approaching footsteps, maybe a couple of them, moving too fast to be casual walkers. Of course, people would be out looking for him after a stunt like that, he'd been betting on it. He'd kind of just hoped he'd have had a couple more minutes to catch his breath.

"Fuck huh," he huffed under his breath before pushing off the wall to break into a run down the alley he'd slipped into. It was a long one that ran parallel to the main street in this part of town and had many connecting streets to it. Nemo had full confidence he'd get away fine. Or he did until a gang member stepped out of a side alley right into his path.

He skid to a halt, turning quickly to go back the way he'd come, only to see the source of the steps that he'd heard before coming up hot on his heels. With no other options on the ground, he looked up quickly, this alley riddled with fire escapes. All he needed was one good jump, something that wouldn't be easy to do with his proximity to it and the enemies that were closing in on him from both sides.

So then maybe his only option was to try and get past the guy on his own. Nemo knew how to put up a little bit of a fight but if those other two caught up with him, there was no way he could take on three at once, he'd have to work quickly. "Here we go," he whispered, sprinting at the lone figure at full speed. He didn't have a plan yet but he'd work on that.

[maverick hale 🌧️ d5 [nyte]]

TATE SERAPHIM

YOU TRY TO KILL IT BUT IT WON'T STOP BLEEDING

Tate had crowned himself a king so long ago that the laurels had begun to rust along the edges. Soft and red and still sharp enough to catch the edge of greedy fingers. "Wanna try that again?" He speaks through a veil of disinterest, head lilting to the side in feigned curiosity. The guy's all soft edges, skin like spoiled milk and teeth gone rotten from whatever fix was roaming the streets this week. Disgust picks at the skin on the back of his neck and it's all Tate can to keep from twisting the hilt of the switchblade pinning his hand to the wall.

He's got snot dripping from his nose, mumbling incomprehensible apologies. He's not a threat, just an idiot. Tate casts his gaze about, sliding his assailants weapon safely beneath the heel of his shoe before wrenching out his own. Slowly, inch by precious inch. The screams give him a migraine. He flicks off the blood off of his blade in one swift motion, splattering it across his companions face.

The guy gags and that's enough to earn a chuckle. "Well, do I have to tell you you're fired?" He has the nerve to whimper before he takes off running. Tate watches him go, chest heaving as adrenaline fades and leaves him feeling boneless and tired. He slumps into his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose as that awful sensation of panic threatens to overwhelm him. The knife drops and he has no interest in picking it up from where it lays in a puddle of clotting blood.

It's fine. It's fine. His hand flies to his pocket, thumb smoothing over the cool metal tucked safely within. A few minutes more and his breathing starts to even, foggy edges go terribly bright and the storm passes before the first drop of rain falls. In its wake only a sour mood remains. This is what destiny had in store for him, this is what he was meant to be. A monster surrounded by lesser men whose sick was doomed to become dark stains on the soles of his shoes and

ugh

that was going to take forever to wash out.

He needs something. Professional help, probably, but that was beside the point. Tate lets out a long suffering sigh before he stands, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning the lighter over in his palms. The metallic chill was nowhere near as comforting as searing heat. Some fresh air would do him good.

Back alleys were a blessed reprieve from the power hungry and pathetic. He much preferred solitude to the words they razed across him like he actually believed they meant anything they said. They just wanted something from him. Everyone did. That's why he often found himself weaving through the ugliest parts of Nine when he had a spare moment, it was always quiet.

Or it was supposed to be.

Footsteps barrel toward him and he'd off his feet in a second. He scrambles for purchase, reaching for the switchblade tucked in his shoe before remembering that-

right-

he'd stabbed a guy earlier huh?

On instinct he braces his forearm against the attackers neck, a desperate bid for self defense as he blinks up at him through eyes half-mad with confusion. "Yo, what the fuck?"

YOU TRY TO FORGET IT BUT I WONT'T STOP KILLING YOU

[presto]

IT'S ALL WRONG

[/presto]

[gamemaker kelsier]

n e m o .

"I got my silver tongue
I've got nothing on you
And all the things you do
Yeah, I've got nothing on you"

Serendipity, good karma, fate.

Whatever it was called, it was all fake and Nemo was sure on that, like yeah, he'd love it if Lady Luck herself would come along and just knight him already but the goddamned bitch was never on his side. He'd been expecting his adversary to put up more of a fight but before he knew it, they were a tangled mess on the hard ground. Nemo's reflex was to stick his elbows out in order to keep from flattening the guy and he earned a sickening meeting with the pavement for his efforts.

While he'd mainly landed on the other kid, one leg had ended up in between his and the other to the left of him. Nemo felt a barrier against neck and he tried to turn his head to the side to avoid too much of an impact but he was certain he almost felt his adam's apple get pushed out of his body.

He hissed slowly and then coughed as the dust settled around them. His arms were suddenly far more full of gravel than he'd ever wanted them to be and he wasn't entirely sure about what had just happened.

"Yo, what the fuck?"

Yeah, what the fuck?

He looked down to see a confused looking kid beneath him and Nemo flushed slightly, realizing that he'd gotten it wrong. There were multiple people using the alley for their convenience and it seemed that he'd just accidentally roped in someone else entirely. He blinked at him for a moment, trying to understand who he was seeing, but he didn't recognize him. Nemo couldn't recall ever meeting anyone with such empty-looking eyes. Beautiful, but empty.

Not the time for that, Nemo.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind him was getting louder, it wouldn't be long until those two guys were on them and Nemo had just made the both of them sitting ducks. He groaned and pushed himself up on his elbows, head swimming a bit from the quick rise. "Uh shit, sorry," he said, "Thought you were one of them, you ok?" Nemo hooked a thumb over his shoulder, wincing slightly when he bent his arm.

"Come on, we should jet," he said and offered the kid a hand, "They've seen you with me now."

[maverick hale 🌧️ d5 [nyte]]

TATE SERAPHIM

YOU TRY TO KILL IT BUT IT WON'T STOP BLEEDING

He's swept up like a leaf in hurricane breezes, eyes scanning the stranger's face for any sign of aggression. It's all he cares to see anymore, the danger flickering behind a brilliantly clear gaze. Instead he finds reckless abandon and an extended hand. Like he needed help getting up after a fall as inconsequential as that. Had this kid really stumbled into the thick of gang territory on a whim? Who the fuck wanted him so bad to chase him this far past Reaper lines?

Great! He's an idiot! A very vulnerable idiot.

Without a shadow of a doubt Tate knows he's going to regret today for the rest of his life but his body manages to move a fraction of a second before he can talk himself out of it and-

he laughs and lets the stranger pull him up.

"Well that was... an introduction." He's still getting a taste for words again, shaking the stars from his vision. It's been a long time since he's let himself play, he's almost worried it'll end up with the both of them in more danger than it's worth.

The fall ripped holes into his sleeves, blood from scraped elbows carving a path down the line of his forearm. Scratch the shoes, this whole fucking outfit was a goner. As expensive as it was, he better be getting something good out of today. He scans the alley, finding a ladder to a rusted fire escape hanging by failing hinges. Roofs made for easy escapes, right? "You seem agile enough." He casts a thoughtful gaze along the stranger before taking off towards the solid wall.

All those escapes from angry neighbors with Teddy riding on his shoulders never cease to come in handy, though he doesn't like to think much about who he was as a child. Or about how much he'd hate the thing he's become. At least its his own blood smeared on his hands today - well, some of it.

He uses a loose brick as a springboard, hoisting himself up onto the lowest rung of the ladder as it gives a shuddering groan in protest. They're both pretty small, it should hold.

It's a terrible plan made through a haze of adrenaline. He's making a huge mistake. But it's hard to say as much through the smile he casts over his shoulder.

"If you can keep up we'll talk about how to make this up to me."

YOU TRY TO FORGET IT BUT I WONT'T STOP KILLING YOU

[presto]

IT'S ALL WRONG

[/presto]

[gamemaker kelsier]

n e m o .

"I got my silver tongue
I've got nothing on you
And all the things you do
Yeah, I've got nothing on you"

Brickwork and the taste of iron on his tongue had him a little bit jetlagged. Had he hit his head at some point or was that shooting pain just a badly bruised elbow? In the moment it was kind of hard to tell. Whatever it was, he was sure to find out later, but now wasn't the time for a full physical.

He could practically feel the guy sizing up, most likely deciding if he was a threat or not. In Nine, you had to be like that or you'd wind up dead in days. People here didn't trust each other so easy but Nemo had always kind of demanded it with a disarming smile and innocent enough look to him. He'd been born to be a good apple in a barrel of bad, such was his crutch, it was going to get him killed one day.

It felt good when the kid with the empty eyes took his hand anyway and Nemo found when he pulled him up that he wan't as heavy as he thought he'd be. ”I’ve always been damn good at a first impression,” he said and he smiled beneath his scarf. Even with the covering, it was easy to spot in the way that his eyes crinkled up and his whole body seemed to bend with it. ”Usually I’m a little bit less aggressive though.”

The sound of footsteps were getting closer, they didn’t have much time and Nemo felt that same sense of urgency wash over him. He could handle himself if he had to, maybe, most likely. His best tactic had always been running, he’d learned to scramble over most obstacles early on. It seemed like Empty Eyes had the same thought, he ran for the wall and jumped deftly up to one of the fire escapes using a loose brick.

”Cool,” he said, ”Love a guy with an escape plan.” Nemo ran at the wall and followed suit, relief running through him when he made the jump and managed not to make a total fool of himself. Shouting came from below as he followed the kid up the ladder but he wasn’t afraid. Even in a shit part of town like this one, there was always a way out.

”You got a plan from here, yeah?” he asked brightly.

[maverick hale 🌧️ d5 [nyte]]

TATE SERAPHIM

YOU TRY TO KILL IT BUT IT WON'T STOP BLEEDING

Tate feels most like a king when he's looking down from the skyline. Bitter winds bite at the apples of his cheeks, its fingers toying with the hem of his oversized shirt to coax goosebumps along line of his stomach. The skyline is streaked with grey clouds, tangled into lilac watercolor along the horizon. He closes his eyes for just a moment and lets it hurt, not so bad but enough to let him feel alive.

"You got a plan from here, yeah? He startles at the noise, almost forgetting he'd dragged an idiot along for the ride. Tate pulls his shoulders to his ears, shoving his hands in his pockets as he appraises the rooftops to either side of them.

"Yeah. Run!" He takes off like a bullet from a chamber, practiced movements guiding him between obstacles made of concrete and metal. He strains for breath, the chill settling deep in his lungs as every labored breath leaves him in a puff of steam. He laughs every so often, throwing a glance over his shoulder to make sure the guy is keeping pace as he leaps from warehouse to warehouse.

They've long outrun their opponents but Tate doesn't stop until he's forced to. Colliding with an air conditioning unit he'd missed when his gaze tangled in the way the boy's hair looked when the breeze had raked its hands through it. (It's a nest of ebony and chestnut, glimmering beneath the sunlight as though there's gems woven within its straw.)

The pain is sudden but it doesn't linger. A sharp throbbing in his temple and the distinct sensation of the back of his head snapping back against the ground. He hisses through clenched teeth, rolling over and trying to push himself up on instinct. It doesn't pay to be vulnerable for very long.

His wrist is definitely sprained because it screams beneath his weight, he sits up anyway. "Ah." He bites his cheek to keep from letting a pained yelp escape him, pulling back and hiding his face in his knees to let the world come back into focus. Everyone in Nine can smell weakness, but its his pride that won't let him show it.

"Good thing we lost 'em early." He has to keep talking to cling to his remaining consciousness, like silk slipping through his fingers, "what'd you even do? Must have pissed them off good. This is dangerous territory."

(And I'm dangerous company.)

YOU TRY TO FORGET IT BUT I WONT'T STOP KILLING YOU

[presto]

IT'S ALL WRONG

[/presto]

[gamemaker kelsier]

n e m o .

"I got my silver tongue
I've got nothing on you
And all the things you do
Yeah, I've got nothing on you"

Bits of him yelled in protest the minute he started running after the other kid. He'd already done a lot of running, his muscles ached, screamed why, it didn't matter. There was nowhere left to go but forwards.

He still wasn't sure just how much he could trust him but the answer was probably not at all. A little bit of help meant nothing in a district as lawless as Nine. This little venture suited them both for now but Nemo had no way of knowing how long that would last. No one did anything for free here, well most people didn't, Nemo had always found himself to be an exception.

So much focus was spent on following Empty Eyes that it took Nemo a solid five minutes to realize they were no longer being chased. His head was starting to spin, the rooftops jumping a little to meet him every time he landed on one. The adrenaline was starting to fade and in its wake was sudden exhaustion. Empty Eyes was running still though so Nemo didn't stop, all his energy spent on putting one foot in front of the other.

That's why he didn't have enough time to call out about the air conditioning unit. "Hey, wai-" was about as much as he could muster before the kid hit it head-on. Nemo scrambled over a bit of roof and skid to a halt beside him, squatting down quickly to reach his level.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, "You hit that pretty hard." Sweat dripped down his forehead and Nemo glanced back the way they'd come but there wasn't another soul in sight. It was safe enough to stop for a while, he needed the moment at least to remember his cover story. Just because Empty Eyes had helped him, he wasn't going to trust him with his whole identity.

"I was tagging their clubhouse but how was I supposed to know it was theirs, you know?" he said, sprinkling just the right amount of annoyance into his voice to lend sincerity. He wished he could say that he found it hard to lie but it'd become so easy over the last couple of year, sometimes he didn't even register it anymore.

Nemo leaned forward and waved a finger back and forth in front of Empty Eye's eyes. "Follow my finger, we have to make sure you're not concussed," he said. That was how you tested for that, right?

The kid was also holding his wrist kind of funny and Nemo felt a pang of guilt. He was always dragging people into his problems, this guy was most likely just another innocent bystander. It's not like he'd asked for Nemo to run into him, right?

He slipped his backpack off and went rummaging for a roll of bandages he was certain was still inside. "Let me wrap that arm, yeah? Sorry about all this- what did you say your name was?"

Had he even said it?