People of the Patch

The Patch was a dreary and somber place, people either looked lost or had eyes sharp like an eagle's talons. March was wearing a brown overcoat and a snazzy hat, with loose slacks to match. He liked to believe he looked equal parts homeless and fashionable but something was telling him he missed the mark.

It might have been the way that people were shooting him glares.

But the issue was, he really needed to find Marilyn. The bar was still vacant of patrons this early in the day and would not provide him with any suitable information. But he thought, so long as he went around and asked, it shouldn't be too difficult.

After all, Marilyn was about around every corner in the Patch.

He stopped the person he crossed paths with, a woman wearing a dress with a neckline much too low to be proper and heels that made her as tall as her. "Good day Miss," he shot her a wink.

She smirked at him through lidded eyes and crossed her arms just below her chest, "And you, Mister. What can I get you?"

He worked his most charming smile, "I looking for a lovely lass called Marilyn, do you know where I might find her?"

The woman broke characters, her cool sensual look discarded for wide blinking eyes. But soon there was laughter and March didn't like the way it sounded mocking. "Good luck finding her around these parts!" Her heels clicked as she sauntered off, not looking back a single glance when March tried to call after her.

His ego hurt a bit, but he was a Knight so he continued on. The next person he tried his charms on was a small filthy boy standing outside a rundown shoe shop. But the response March won was not much different. "Ask somewhere else!"

He was almost shocked, but he shouldn't have been. This was the Patch after all and normal magic did not work here.

The young man he interrogated by an alley entrance smoking a cigarette was a little more pleasant to talk to but didn't relent any more information than the previous two. And after he interrogated a dozen more people, including a few homeless men begging on the streets, March realized that his charm in these parts of the city was reduced to a pathetic zero!

It had to be because he wasn't a Number. He sighed, feeling a little defeated. He leaned against dirty brick walls and scrunched his eyes closed, a contemplative frown stretched his lips. It was time for plan B, if only he actually had a plan B in the first place before strolling out with only plan A.

A voice echoed from the other side of the alley and at first, March thought he'd conjured it up, "I'm searching for Marilyn."

"Go down the street and turn left at the third alleyway down. You'll see a rundown bar with a neon cat sign. Turn right after that, there will be a set of stairs that lead into a fenced up street. You'll have to jump the fence if they blocked the hole again but it's not hard. Orange building to the right. Enter through the side door, facing north. There's a snake scribbled on a wooden sign next to the door. You'll find Marilyn there."

Did March hear right? His eyes flew open, seeing a dark-haired young man frowning at the person who gave him directions. The dark-haired man looked confused but nodded a small thanks anyways before walking off. March felt like he'd hit jackpot.

He took his time and followed in the shadows, ducking behind lamp posts and trash bins when the man stopped and looked around. He wasn't that tall and had dark circles under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights. His hair was straight and smooth and fell just below his ear. There was something striking about him, but March had a hard time pinpointing what. He didn't seem like a Number. March couldn't help but feel like he'd seen this man before. But from where? Why couldn't he recall?

The winding streets were dim even with daylight. The buildings, while not tall were cramped. The oppressive smell of poverty was heavy and rampant, and neither March nor the mysterious man looked like they belonged. The man squinted his eyes around in confusion and March already knew that he had forgotten the directions given. He wanted to walk up and shake the man. It's the next alley down! But he remained in his inconspicuous spot behind the curve of a building and patiently waited for his little friend to find his way.

If he didn't then March would embark on the journey alone. Though, for now, he waited.

The man, lost, waved down another passerby asking the same question as before, "I'm searching for Marilyn. Where can I go?"

And March had expected him to be shooed off or at least given a disapproving look. But there was no such thing! In fact, the boy of the Patch nodded and even smiled at the dark-haired man kindly! What kind of witchcraft was this? March wanted to howl at the injustice.

The directions given were exactly the same, fingers pointing vaguely towards their destination. The mystery-man smiled at the Patch boy and waved farewell before setting back on his journey.

March quieted his steps and followed. It was more difficult to maintain his stealth in alleys so narrow where barely two people had the space to walk side-by-side. The walls only seemed to be creeping closer and closer together as they walked, each step echoing in space that shouldn't have echoed any sound. March cursed when a stray empty can rolled by his feet.

The dark-haired man startled and turned around. March quickly dodged behind a small trash bin, curling up so he might blend better in the shadows.

The man called out, anxiety shook his voice, "H-hello? Who might be there?"

"..." March held his breath. Maybe he'd followed a little too closely…

"..."

After a heart-pounding moment, the man finally turned back around and continued his route down the alley. March was creeping through the shadows as carefully as he could now.

Eventually, they reached the fenced-off alley, where a wide gaping hole had been blocked off by bars of wooden planks nailed in place. The man sighed but gripped the metal fencing with his fingers and began to climb.

March cursed under his breath, just how was he supposed to follow silently now? He carefully peeked at the alley from his spot from underneath the winding stairs of a fire escape that couldn't even provide cover for his entire person.

Both walls were flat aside from tiny juts of brick. He clicked his tongue and wondered if he should chance to summon a sword but decided against it. He should preserve his magic, just in case.

So March waited until the man jumped down on the other side. And after the mysterious man disappeared down the bend in the alley, March crawled out of his hiding spot. He took a few steps back and then took off with a sprint. His light step technique was really rusty, but he was still able to leap off the ground and run across the walls, using nothing more than the tiny crevices between bricks as leverage.

The way he ran across the side of the wall and flipped over the fence appeared effortless and elegant but when March landed he cursed at himself, feeling a telling strain on his waist. He was seriously out of practice! Some Knight he was. But there was no time to think about that. The mysterious man was already making his way towards the north entrance of the orange building.

The so-called orange building was one that blended with the rest, a four-story apartment that didn't have a single special thing about it. It had that same abandoned and decrepit appearance that haunted every edifice found in the Patch. The windows all seemed to show a black and vacant interior or sported wooden boards. There were two fire escape stairwells on the south side of the building and an exit that was boarded up.

When he watched the dark-haired man try the side door. It was locked. He was shifting and looking around the entrance in thought but eventually, the door creaked open. Words were exchanged but March was too far away to hear or even see the person inside. All he saw was the mysterious man pulling out what appeared to be a small white business card. Whatever it was, it worked because the door opened wider and he was let inside…

March frowned. He would probably have to find a different way in.