(Edited with Grammarly on 9/17/2026)
The rain slammed down hard on top, its discordant beat accompanying the sound of cars splashing past. Those frigid drops hammered down with the force of a hail of bullets, each trying to pierce through the plastic barrier but could do nothing but bounce off uselessly. But not before letting out a patter that could often lull someone off to sleep.
Albert floated amongst the crowd, stepping clean around massive puddles and trying not to splash through potholes he couldn't fully avoid. All in the hopes of not drawing the ire of any of his companions. On either side of him, familiar people walked. On one side, a tall and lanky teen wore a plain black jacket with its hood drawn up and over his head of shaggy brown locks. Those same square-framed glasses, smudged with water and mist, hid brown orbs that darted out towards any and all errant ally mouths they unfortunately couldn't edge around.
Directly behind him, a much larger teen loomed over them. Their bright pink umbrella covered in flowers and dancing unicorns was clutched in one hand. If he was embarrassed by it, he didn't really show it. And knowing how big a lug he was, he probably honestly didn't care about anything more than being able to avoid the frigid rain.
Following that trend, standing a bit taller and maybe a tad wider at the shoulders. Built akin to a brick wall on legs with a stubborn street to match. He too was holding up an umbrella to add to their collective shield, made of a plain black thin material that did nothing to block out the headache-inducing yellow lights from nearby streetlights.
Between the two giants, two young girls shuffled in step. Their chatter was low and subdued, but they did sound legitimately excited in a way that not even this awful weather could stamp out. Each of them was wearing an obnoxiously, but envy-inducing, thick bubble coat that probably did more for them than any one else's thinner jackets. Something Albert knew anyone in that group would trade for in a heartbeat.
'Maybe I should've worn mine as well.'
His usual trench coat was fine; it kept the warmth wrapped up tight to his body, and combine that with his umbrella, it did an adequate job of making sure he wouldn't be spending the next few days hacking up phlegm and coughing his lungs out.
A fate, he feared, at least two in their little party would suffer from.
In particular, before him were two figures huddled up close together. One of them giggling as she kicked at every errant puddle in her knee-high rubber boots; her short cropped hair bounced in the wind. Her tanned skin seemed a few shades darker than normal, almost appearing to glow under the sparsely leaking light.
Besides her, the blonde didn't really appear all that enthused. Her covered arms were crossed tight against her, that same perpetual frown or maybe a sneer across her face as she glared out into the world. If anyone was having the worst of it, it was undeniably her.
It was a bit of a weird group, all things considered. Maybe that was why most of the evening crowd seemed to make way for them, or maybe it was just due to the sheer volume of them.
"So…" It seemed the awkward silence had grown too heavy for one member, and almost as one, they all turned to the sheepish-looking teen. Who smiled abashed, looking ready to retract his head into his shell. "Marcy, what's this show going to be like? I hope it's not going to be something lame like pulling a rabbit from a hat or something…"
"How is that lame?" Another voice, this one a lot quieter but nonetheless flat as could be, spoke out suddenly. And turning, the young girl could only look up at the speaker as if he was being unreasonable.
"Yeah, Michael!" Marceline spun in place, taking extra pleasure to splash through yet another puddle. A teasing grin spread across her face. "Can you pull a rabbit out of your hat?"
"Well-no, but you know what I mean!" Michael threw his arm up in exasperation. Before he turned to his fellow giant. "C'mon, you gotta admit that if we came all the way here just to see some card trick or something lame, you wouldn't be piss-uh, mad!"
"Hmmm," Malcolm sent an appreciative nod the teen's way before he rubbed the patchy stubble growing across his chin. "Well, I gotta agree here. There's this guy at the gym who tries to pick up girls there with card tricks, so I've probably seen all of them. At least all the normal tricks."
"D-do those work?"
"No."
"Honestly, sometimes." Both the young fighter and the blonde spoke up at the same time, before he tilted his head towards the blonde and continued. "Most of the time, he kinda just strikes out. Most of the women at my gym aren't really looking for a partner or anything there, and my coach, Teddy, kinda has this thing going where he says if you have the time to flirt, you can give him another set. But from the few successes I've seen, they don't really go anywhere. They're entertained for a bit, but when the guy tries to get their number, it rarely ever goes anywhere. From what I've seen, he gets their number, and I don't really see them interact anymore."
"Card tricks are lame," Angeline spoke up again. "They're fun to look at the first time, but once you know how they work, it loses a lot of its appeal. And the whole pulling a bunny out of a hat thing? Dude, I'm with you there. I want to see someone disappear or escape from a sealed water tank or something with more teeth, you know?"
"Oh, there'll be some teeth alright…"
Marceline said, purposefully sounding as mysterious and foreboding as possible.
"Sweetheart, all I'm hearin' is you flappin' your gums," Olivia spoke up in her usual loud way. "If this is just a bunch of baloney, then I'm gonna show you exactly how much of a bearcat I can be."
The group, well, at least those unaccustomed to her eccentricities, turned as one to look at the girl in question.
'Was that how I looked?'
Albert didn't know, but he had to admit it was pretty humorous to see other people react. After all, it had to be pretty weird to see a little girl speaking as if she was straight out of an old, grimy, black-and-white detective movie.
"Olivia..."
Dillon's sigh was barely audible, but the pleading nature was pretty damn easy to hear. Despite the perpetually blank look on her face, the growing redness in her cheeks did nothing to hide her emotions.
"I don't know if you just want to lay a curse on me or something, but I can promise, you won't be able to forget about tonight!"
"...You know what?! Since no one else is going to ask, screw it! Dude, how the hell-heck did you get so huge?! I've been trying to get into shape, and I would love some tips!"
"Oh well, I've been doing some physical labor jobs since I turned... never mind that, but I recently got this opportunity to have an actual coach help me develop, like an actual heavyweight boxing champion...Actually, I think Teddy would love you."
And with that, the group shuffled. The two giants broke off into their own pair, with the blonde and the 'only' sensible one in the group, with the pair of eccentrics being shucked together like corn. Low chatter bloomed between them, smoothing over the awkward atmosphere that had wrapped oppressively tightly around them.
With it, Albert could feel the tension ease out of him. He didn't really know what to expect when first introducing these people. There had been a pretty long list of people he'd wanted to invite but had to be prudent in his choices.
Sadly, Harley was out automatically. If it had just been him going, maybe he could've swung it, but with where he was going and with who, it really didn't sound like a good idea. She would've had a great time; he was sure of that. Plus, when he asked her two or three days ago, she already had plans, so that helped him a bit not to feel too guilty.
And with her out, Ivy wasn't an option either. Not only was she still locked in her room, but the redhead didn't seem like the kind of person to enjoy these sorts of outings.
So that really only left ex-clients he was on reasonably good terms with as an option. He knew they would also be open to such an invitation. Which only really left the stubborn fighters and his two adoptive...sisters? Daughters? Caretaker? Whatever the case, Malcolm seemed like he needed a break, and this provided an excellent opportunity for the two girls to possibly make some new friends.
"Y-you know," Steve spoke up from beside him, a small crooked grin spread across his face as he glanced 'stealthily' at the other miniature groups. "I'm just g-glad it's n-not awkward anymore."
Albert couldn't help but agree. The walk so far had been deathly silent, with the air thick enough to almost cut with a knife. It had taken quite a while for the two groups to even walk this closely together, with the ongoing frigid rain and their limited umbrellas being their primary reason to not just be so separate from each other.
Olivia hadn't really been all too happy to see him for obvious reasons, and he'd honestly expected her to march up to him and give him a tongue lashing he would only fully understand right when he was prepared to set his head down for the night. But surprisingly enough, she only barely acknowledged him with a reluctant nod before sticking to the giant's side like a koala while narrowing her eyes at the two girls in the group.
But, gratefully, things seem not to have exploded in his face just quite yet.
"Same, but how is everything going? Painted anything lately?"
"E-everything's fine," the shaggy-haired teen shrugged. "You know how I-it goes. With school t-taking up a majority of m-my time, I-I haven't been able to really p-paint as I want to. I only r-really have time during my art c-classes. The teacher, Ms. Telmonus, has been b-bugging me to put o-one of my works in a sh-show or something."
"Why not?"
The investigator knew very well that his friend was an extremely talented artist and could potentially garner his own fan base if he just put himself out there...Well, that was a lie. Not the idea of a fan base forming, but more why he didn't want to really showcase his work.
"I f-feel like it's not up to snuff, I-I've b-been to a few shows and seen h-how far out of my league my work is. T-those people...those artists I see are j-just different, you know? T-they live and breathe this stuff. P-put their heart and soul into t-their work, lost themselves in it. Me, who p-paint for fun, putting my work up w-would be like spitting in their eyes."
"…" Albert had to fight down the rebuttal that came almost instantly once he heard his friend's thoughts. Biting his tongue, he knew there was nothing he could say that would help him here. It wouldn't come out genuine in the slightest simply due to their friendship. And from the way the group grew a tad bit quieter, he knew this was a genuine issue that all who knew the artist shared. So how could he go about helping? "These art shows you go to, do you see student or underground submissions?"
"Uh-yeah?"
"Well, do artist use their own name on their work? Or do they use a pseudonym?"
"…"
The silence was answer enough; it did make sense as to why some artists had a sign or nickname they used in order to provide a name that was truly theirs. A name they created and labeled onto themselves of their own free will. An expression of their own creativity.
Also, it probably helped to make their work easier to pass around if it was attached to some enigmatic figure.
"It's just a thought, though." He slapped the teen on the shoulder with a small smile on his face. He knew he could press harder, could twist the artist's head around so expertly that he would have already agreed to the idea while coming up with a name that very moment. But that wasn't how friends treated each other, and he certainly wasn't going to start acting like a claustrophobia-inducing parent. Steve would come around on his own, and while that happened, he would absolutely be cheering on the young artist.
"T-thanks…"
But the teen was already beyond the world then, with his eyes glazed over as he looked off into the distance. Leaving Albert to silently walk beside him, not that he really minded. There was more than enough chatter filling in the silence as the voices rose back to their previous volume.
'This is nice.'
This was what he needed. A simple night, surrounded by friends, enjoying the finer things in life while not focusing on anything too heavy. For once, in a long time, he could even feel himself begin to uncoil just a hair. Just enough for him to get a glance of the outside world.
Would he have even considered Steve's problems if he was still laser-focused? His friends had been in school for weeks now, and he hadn't even thought to ask them about their problems. Hadn't even paid attention really to anyone outside of his inner circle.
Was Michael and his family doing alright? Did the secret they kept keep him up at night sometimes? How was Angeline adjusting to her newly enhanced strength, and how did it affect her life now? Why did Marceline continue to stay at the shelter despite there being multiple places that would gladly open their doors to her? The shelter, now that he had his own place, was a frankly very uncomfortable place. And as much as he often harps about the lack of warm water at his place, just having somewhere to bathe without the knowledge that someone had used that same tub not even half an hour earlier was more than worth the amount he'd sunk into the place.
Maybe he was just too self-centered sometimes, or maybe he got such intense tunnel vision sometimes that the world just fell away from him.
Whatever the case, that could all wait tonight.
There was no crime to solve, no item to find, no readings, no criminal organizations, or really anything that night. Tonight, for once, he would turn off his brain and just enjoy the show. But most importantly, he would cherish this time he would have with his friends.
***
"...I don't mean to be rude-" Angeline started, her back standing ramrod straight as she looked up at the building before them. "No, never mind, rudeness included, but are you sure this is the right place, Marcy? I mean, me and the big guy will be fine if we're going to get jumped, but I don't know about you guys. Michael, did you bring your...uh-friend?"
"Shh!" Michael hissed, his form hunching in as he frantically searched the deathly silent street for any evildoers who might've heard. Before he leaned in closer and spoke barely above a whisper, opening the side of his coat wide enough to showcase the inky black handgun stuffed in his waistband. "Of course I brought it! But still, I think we should just call it a night and get the hell-er-heck outta here. We can swing by a burger joint or something...Actually, I think I saw a pizzeria on our way here; maybe we could check them so the night's not a complete wash."
"Ain't this a bunch of applesauce!" Olivia pushed her way forward with her fists propped up at her sides. "Look here, egg! You got four absolute lookers here! If some goons try to start beef with us, just pump some metal in 'em!"
"...We're not shooting anyone tonight." Malcolm firmly put his foot down and didn't look like he would be budging anytime soon.
"Well, a dame like me would love to see you play some chin music, but if you ain't got the stomach, give me the bean-shooter!"
"She's serious."
Dillon spoke quietly, looking just as defeated as the fighter.
"I don't know, guys." Marceline rubbed her chin, stopping right beside the blonde to look up at the dilapidated theater. "I think giving a little girl a gun sounds like a pretty bad idea, but hey, anyone can butt in at any time. I'm open to it."
"Marcy!" Even Steve had to speak up at that point, sounding aghast at her even bringing it up as an actual idea. "N-no!"
Slowly, the group fell into whispered bickering as Albert looked on. They probably appeared pretty suspicious right about now. A large group of kids huddled under an array of umbrellas and a flickering streetlight, standing just down the street from an old building that matched Gotham's common aesthetic. Same solid gray color, with cracks and pumps running all across its surface. Standing tall and taking at least a couple of buildings in width, with flashing...well, the lights overhead, a massive sign tried to flash, but it was more like a dull glow that just barely avoided illuminating the sign enough to make reading what it said from a passing glance a pretty tall order.
The glass doors were boarded up, with visible and pretty graphic graffiti layered all over. And if that wasn't enough, even the employee that should've been in the suspect ticket booth wasn't anywhere to be seen.
Overall, he could very easily imagine the theater being grand once. With its parking lot full of cars, full of celebrities walking down the red carpet, and, most importantly, somewhere people would actually go and possibly frequent. Instead, they were left with a relic of the past that honestly deserved to receive renovations and be turned into an exhibit on early American cinema.
Squinting, he tried to parse through the heavy sheet of rain hammering down from above.
'The Traveling Zataras!'
Or at least that's what he thought the sign said, so it was the right place, but what about the time or date? Could they have gotten there too late? Or maybe it was supposed to be on an entirely different day? As no matter how hard he strained his eyes or ears, he couldn't seem to sense any life from within the building.
He couldn't hear low chatter, couldn't see light piercing through the boards or really anything. Despite how important this event might be for him, he was on Michael's side here. This was already an incredibly sketchy part of town, and getting out of there honestly sounded like the better option.
Just as he was prepared to open his mouth to add his own two cents to the growing argument, Olivia, in all her boldness, broke away from the group and stomped towards the entrance. Completely ignoring the cry of concern, which caused the giant to quickly follow after her. And that in itself caused a domino effect in which eventually, they were all in a somewhat uniform line with the investigator taking up the rear.
When her hands tugged on the clearly boarded-up door, he'd expected her to receive some kind of resistance. Maybe for her to pull on the handle a few times only to hear that familiar locked noise and perhaps have a good layer of dust come sprinkling down from the moldy wood. Instead, the door came swinging open, and every idea that the building might've been abandoned or that they were at the wrong place all went out the window.
Soft music spilled out from inside; an upbeat instrumental tune played and tickled at his ears. As if it was slowly beckoning him in. But if it was just that coming from a dark building, he would've easily been able to turn right on his heel and sprint in the other direction, if not for the soft light that illuminated all along the impressive, spacious hallway. Further away, a lone door was splayed open. Beams of light flew out from it, and it seemed to be the source of the music as well.
"See?" Marceline proudly stepped forward, turning her back to the interior to wave them in. "We're at the right place! I think we're just early, but that means we get first pick of seats!"
Before she spun and began to rapidly march inside, followed shortly after by a young girl who ultimately broke the tide. Slowing funneling in, there soon enough was only a single person left outside. And just as Albert took a single step inside, the hair on the back of his neck stood to attention. Gooseflesh bloomed all across his body.
Glancing over his shoulder, he soon found what set off his internal alarm. There, through the heavy sheet of rain pattering down from the heavens above onto this decrepit city, across the cracked and pothole-covered street, in the alley mouth between two buildings that looked as if an errant breeze would knock them over, stood a small gathering of figures. From the distance and through the dim light, it was nearly impossible to see their exact features. At this point, it was more like he was counting heads.
But they weren't thugs; that much he could tell from those familiar, predatory orange eyes that seemed to glimmer through the darkness. And as if noticing him, a shadowy arm waved in his direction.
They were never in any real danger...well, at least Marceline was never at risk with her ever-present protectors just a mere scant seconds away. Or maybe less if any of them were Slayers.
Yet another mystery, but like all the rest, they could wait one night. Shaking off his dread, Albert closed the door behind him with an audible click.