There is a funeral dirge in Gotham.
It is, as always, a slow tune. Requiem doesn't quite mind.
The city hums a slow buzz, and they let their dirge overpower it.
It's a ringing in the ears.
It's a slow tapping whisper.
Requiem knows that Bernard is rarely alone- but why would that worry them?
They are
of course
not
there.
No, that's not quite true. But they force their will into the collective unconsciousness, twist the strands until there is only one truth- there is nobody there. There's nothing to look at.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Requiem could, of course, do something blatant.
But causing paranoia and confusion..? ...it's the closest to fun they can get. Perhaps almost satisfaction at a well planned event.
There's a funeral dirge in Gotham- and it's following Bernard wherever he goes.
There's a funeral dirge in Gotham, and it whispers into his mind ear.
Help me! Please...I- can anybody hear me? I'm scared. I- I don't know where my parents are. Please!
( @quails-requiem )
It isn’t surprising to see Bernard with a smile on his face when you first see him; when you first meet him.
No matter how disorderly his life could be, or currently is, that smile was mostly unwavering; his optimism despite the troubling events that surround him bordering on the line of perseverance and ignorance.
Mentally, he knew he wasn’t fooling those close to him. An example being now, where his friend just minutes earlier (worriedly) berated him for not getting enough sleep.
He was tired, exhausted by the danger which plagued him constantly. And who wouldn’t be? Getting kidnapped twice, being forced to be the priest of the cult that mentally and physically scarred you, etc; all he wanted was a break.
(Even though he wasn’t a vigilante, he could honorarily be seen as one due to what he’s been through — he jokes to himself.)
Rarely, though, did that smile slip.
And unfortunately for him, this was one of times.
Hazel eyes glimmer and widen with altruistic concern, and he whips his head around in confusion at the desperate, yet somewhat melodic, plea.
“Huh?! Hello?”
He calls out, much to the bewilderment of his current companion.
‘Did you hear that? I’m not losing it, am I?’
Bernard then silently asks the one whom which he now shares his mind with as his eyes flickered back and forth in a slightly panicked frenzy.
‘I did. It must be the work of something… magic-related. Or otherworldly. Don’t listen to it. I do not trust it.’
He decides to take Talon’s word for now, but his stupidly considerate heart would soon beg to the opposite.
Please, it wails, all pleading and scared. It rings like a chime, a small child's desperate wailing.
I don't know what to do!
I don't know where to go?
Help me! Someone- anybody-
Is this needed? ...no. They're fully aware of that. The efficient way to do things would be to twist his mind, knock him out, and grab him.
...but there's no fun to be found in that.
Requiem's always played the long game- and an important part of that is... well. Actually playing.
They can taste it, almost. The tiredness in his voice, the ache in his mind. It makes them want to dig their way into his mind and change things up a little.
What? Weren't they doing this for Jacyn...?
...ha. Hah.
Please.
They agreed to help kidnap, yes. But they don't particularly care too much if the child succeeds or fails. Is it odd, perhaps, to consider Jacyn a child when they're no adult themselves?
Perhaps so. But Requiem doesn't care for those little details.
All that matters is having fun.
All that matters...
is finding something actually interesting.
They said they'd kidnap Bernard. They never specified how long they'd take to hand him over.
Please. Why- why can't anybody hear me? I'm right here! This- this isn't funny! Please!
The longer the pleads are spoken like a prayer, the more Bernard’s heart starts to ache with that biting guilt.
In a way, whoever this child was — who was desperately seeking out help from anyone who would care to listen, was quite like him.
…Or were they? He always had a habit of projecting onto those he helped. To feel as if he wasn’t alone in what he went through. Every selfless action he committed always had a selfish reason behind it. Or did it? Maybe he was as nice as he seemed.
He hated being alone. In every sense of the word. Physically, mentally, emotionally — all in all, he despised it.
It meant he was stuck with his thoughts. Awful, bitter thoughts that always told him he didn’t deserve every ounce of happiness he felt; that he was a selfish, spoiled brat who only took and never gave.
Was that the truth? Bernard himself didn’t know.
Unconsciously, he took a step forward — his mind currently blocking out the protests that Talon was spewing as his worry increased.
“Kid, I can hear you!”
A grounding statement to stop the child from spiralling even more into their despair. Because God knows he needed that when he was younger.
“Can you hear me? I can he—“
“Bernard.”
His friend’s voice pierced through his attempts to help, and hazel eyes met a dark, narrowed orange.
“There’s nobody else here — Who are you talking to?”
Bernard lets out a shaky breath, heart rapidly thumping in his chest.
“But- I can hear this kid- A-And they’re asking for help—”
It is easy, perhaps, to fake those cries. (Too easy, perhaps, but they don't realise it.)
( For no matter how in control they believed they were，they still weren't capable of looking back upon themselves in the way that mattered.)
(No, that's not quite right.)
They can sense the wavering.
( You knew, perhaps, once upon a time. )
Hook.
You- you can hear me? I... I've been crying out for so long...
( But you had rid yourself of what you believed worthless far too soon. )
Line.
I called out for help...
but nobody came.
It's quite easy to manipulate the mind when the collective unconsciousness is yours to play with.
They reach out with barely a thought and push there's nothing to be worried about into the mind of the orange eyed person.
They...don't quite care for the other. But it could be entertaining to make the person believe Bernard had simply vanished.
Isn't that reason enough?
Almost instantly, Bernard’s eyes narrow in suspicion once the pleads reach its end. The words don’t align with the child’s state of voice — it should be more raw, more hoarse in its tone.
No matter how real those cries seemed, part of it seemed… dramatic. Theatrical.
Like an actor playing into their role to fully immerse the audience into their act. Or in this case, their ploy.
What kind of a fool did this… being take him for? He may be altruistic, but he isn’t that dense.
His disbelief is heightened at the sight of his best friend, who now seems calmer just seconds after pointing out what seemed to be obvious in a blunt, albeit clearly bewildered, manner.
She never reacted that way before. She always, stubbornly, almost infuriatingly so, pushed forward. Seeing her this docile was… wrong.
This wasn’t right.
None of this seemed right.
You can only trust Talon now.
A statement which, in itself, would’ve been something Bernard would’ve never believed or listened to up until a few weeks ago. How times change, huh?
“Nobody came, huh? And why’s that? Many people, especially the heroes of this place, would, kid. That is, unless you didn’t talk to them at all.”
His words become more confident; it was clear he was done with the bullshit being spouted from this person’s mouth.
“So tell me. Why did you choose me specifically?”
Sink- no, the gig is up.
Or is it?
Requiem's never been much of an actor, not really. They could- but it was just... so much more convenient to reach into the mind and twist. Sharp. Piercing.
Like metal against the mind, impossibly sharp.
...they're bored already.
But it would be... different, they suppose, if they kept going.
I- I don't know! The voice wails. I called out! Nobody could hear me!
I screamed!
I yelled!
But somehow-
Just somehow-
nobody came for me.
It didn't matter. No matter how much I screamed. No matter how much I wailed. Nobody came.
Hah.
Hah!
Why...?
Why does it have to be like this...?
It's a trembling thing, sobbing almost. Choking on laughter that sounds too strained.
Why. Why why why why why why why.
It's interesting, really, to see how far they can go. To see just how many buttons they can push.
It's almost fun.
