Chapter Text
Red smoke billows in the space as green eyes look at the portal before him. Viridian sighs, wondering where this one leads. Kaya had been calculating which worlds could help them and where to travel next when this one appeared. He observes the familiar warble of the wormhole, the destination a mystery but he’s always been curious about Kaya’s research - the nova proto having done some groundbreaking things - and without hesitation he steps through only to find himself in the mall standing a few feet away from another version of Kaya.
“Uh, hey old man - we’ve got visitors!”
Suddenly there’s thunderous footfalls and a big barrel of a man standing in front of him with weapons drawn.
He’s …nonplussed, smoke perched between his lips. It wasn’t the first time he’d had a gun aimed at him and it wouldn’t be the last. Viridian observes the man across from him, shaggy brownish red hair and a full beard, ruby eyes watching him - and he just remains silent, flicking ash off his smoke before replacing it between his lips.
The man lowers his weapons and looks at Kaya.
“Really? This is what you called me for?”
Viridian looks between the man and the other Kaya, watching them go back and forth while he stands there, metallic hand clicking against his chest, waiting.
“It’s just a guy.”
“A metal guy! With metal spikes!”
The man rolls his eyes.
“This metal guy has a name…” He drops his smoke and grinds it with his boot, leans down and picks up the butt and drops it into a nearby trash can.
Viridian has his metallic hand loosely on his sirocco while his gaze sizes up the man across from him. He can tell his crossed arm stance is a bit of an intimidation tactic, but it’s falling flat. Sure, he’s built a bit heftier than Viridian - though, he’s taken down monsters bigger than this man.
“Get Arthur, Velimir - you, Mr. Green, come with me.”
A chuckle escapes him; that’s not the worst name he’s been called.
“And why should I go with you?”
“Orestes…” Kaya hesitates.
“Just get them.”
Viridian watches her warp away and decides to play along, stepping into the small little office space he recognizes as Arthur’s room and plops to the couch. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out his smokes, putting another between his lips, lighting it with a flick of his zippo before the thing clacks shut. The door opens, Arthur and Velimir take their place on either side of it and Viridian just leans back against the couch.
“What is this?” Arthur asks, looking at the newcomer.
“Kaya messing with things.” Viridian answers honestly. “She opened a portal; I stepped through.”
“Make a habit of wandering in random holes?” Orestes deadpans.
“When it comes to experiments.” He shrugs, unbothered.
“You got a name?” Velimir flicks ash off his cigar.
“Viridian.”
“So, what, you just decided to take a vacation?” That ruby gaze regards him wondering what his deal is.
“Following the white rabbit has taken me in quite a few interesting directions.” His green eyes flicker. “What’s one more.”
"No bunnies in here but we got stuff to drink if that means loosening some lips. It will not shrink or enlarge you, though.”
“Shame.” Viridian stands, ashing his smoke. “Though, you don’t have to ply me with alcohol. Eternalism works in funny ways, and this isn’t my first rodeo.”
He walks past them into the mall proper, headed for the bar.
“I thought you said we didn’t have to give you booze.”
“Said you didn’t have to - doesn’t mean I don’t wanna drink.” Viridian continues on.
“You deal with it.” Arthur shakes his head. “You brought him here.”
“He brought himself here.” Orestes grumbles.
“Still could’ve sent him back.”
He watches Arthur and Velimir walk away and makes his way to the bar to see Viridian already there with a bottle next to him and a full glass of scotch - taking the moment to observe him. He’s shirtless, which he found a bit strange to begin with - but what’s otherworldly is the metal along his body. His left pectoral is covered leading up to his shoulder and down to half his upper arm - then vine like patterns splitting between to pick up at the middle of his forearm leading to his whole left hand. Sickly neon spills from around the edges and thorny protrusions stick out from his shoulders.
Viridian picks up the glass, his metallic fingers clacking against the surface, that left hand tipped with sky blue nails and it seems like the only bit of color on an otherwise green pallet. Orestes decides to sit next to him, watching as he fiddles with the pack of cigarettes next to him, tracing the square ornate case before flicking it open.
“Gonna stare or got something to say?” Viridian turns to face him, one of those cigs perched between his lips, lighter flicking to life.
Orestes reaches for a glass and pours his own drink, eyeing him, wondering what his angle is. The end of that cig glows cherry, red smoke billowing off it - that’s three since he arrived here, not that he’s counting. He’s obviously another drifter and was sent here for a reason. His gaze wanders, seeing Viridian’s throat bob as he downs his shot, pouring another - noticing he’s left-handed, and the green seems to be interwoven with the steel, those tattoos on his face, the marks of Zenurik.
“Staring it is.” He remarks, flicking ash in the basin.
“So, what’s your story?”
“You want that information; you’ve got to buy me dinner.”
Orestes just gives him a look.
“Did I stutter?”
He sighs, standing, moving to behind the counter where Velimir had some stuff stored hiding a secret grin. Orestes puts a long, bent limb on a griddle plate and the smell alone makes his eyes water, and he looks up seeing the disturbed expression on Viridian’s face.
“Don’t tell me you eat those things.”
“Tastes like chicken.”
“I’ll pass.” He grimaces. “If my stomach wasn’t rolling before, it is now.”
“You wanted dinner.”
“That’s not food, it’s a war crime.” Viridian ashes his smoke. “Velimir had the same bright idea in my world - didn’t work out well. And that was on a good stomach day.”
Orestes grabs a piece of it, sinking his teeth in, and Viridian has to hold back a gag.
“I made dinner, as per your request, not my fault you don’t want it.”
“Sol.” He rubs that metal hand down his face. “I’m not about to eat that - you couldn’t pay me enough.”
“So, talk.”
“You’re not getting my life story.”
“Not what I asked for.”
“Then what is it?”
“Why are you here?”
“I told you why.” Viridian downs another shot. “Kaya opened a portal and I stepped through.”
“And what’s it like on the other side?”
“Not much different than here from what I can tell.” He sighs. “And it might’ve been a one-way trip. Things were …collapsing.”
Orestes frowns, ruby eyes diming a bit. What did he hope to accomplish by coming here then?
“Whatever the reason, I’m here.” Viridian clacks his fingers on the bar top. “And there’s not much I can do until one of our Kaya’s can reopen that portal.”
--
Orestes doesn’t know what to think when he finds Viridian sleeping on one of the mall benches, metal arm slung over his eyes, a spare shirt rolled up under his head like a pillow. His boots are next to him, and he now realizes that they’re purple, another color other than green. Soft snores escape the man, mouth partially open, and he sees a glint of metal in his mouth, fangs.
“You know, the staring is getting a bit old.” Viridian’s voice startles him.
“Well, you’re in the middle of the mall.”
“Hardly.”
“Hungry?”
“I’ll pass.” Viridian gives him a look. “If your culinary skills are grilled techrot, my stomach is gonna say no.”
“Arthur’s cooking.”
This piques his interest and he shifts to sit up, metal barbs getting stuck in the bench and he grumbles. Without his files, those are going to be a problem.
“I could eat. Though I don’t know how much I’ll be able to stomach today either way.”
Orestes raises a brow but doesn’t say anything else, leading them to the backroom. Viridian finds a couch and makes himself at home - almost like he belongs - which definitely clues him in that this man is another drifter.
“Fine, I’ll play nice cop.” He grins. “Maybe that way you’ll be a little more inclined to talk.”
“You want idle chatter, that’s much more suited to Amir.” Viridian shakes out a cig and places it between his lips.
“Yeah, no. It may look like yours, but this is my turf and it’ll be better if you cooperate.” Orestes sets a plate in front of him and Viridian sighs, the clack of his lighter filling the space as he takes a deep drag of his smoke, blowing out a cloud of red.
His metallic hand clinks against the fork as he picks it up, cutting the edge off the French toast and popping it in his mouth dry, no syrup, just to taste it then decides it’s palatable enough before pouring a bit of the sweet stuff over the stack.
Orestes takes a seat across from him on the throne he has in the corner watching him.
"Come on, dude. Gimme something. I don't want Arthur nagging me with the usual ‘I was right and you should've listened to me’ - shit's annoying as it is."
“Arthur’s a teddy bear.” Viridian chuckles with a flash of fang, wiping up the last of the syrup with the corner of toast. “Got any coffee?”
“Ah, there we go. Soft spot for your knight, I guess.” Orestes hums, moving around and this is the first time Viridian has noticed the glimmering tails floating behind him.
“Like you don’t have the same soft spot.” He takes the coffee with a nod.
An ashtray clacks down on the table and Viridian takes the hint, flicking his ash there so it doesn’t spread around. He knows it’s a bad habit, but he doesn’t like to make a mess with it. He takes that first sip, sighing softly. Although he’s not the hugest fan of it black, he won’t be a bother for anything else - a guest, after all.
“What’s with the metal?”
“Duviri. Next question.”
“How?”
“Do you answer questions like this on a first meeting?” Viridian challenges. “I doubt you’re gonna tell me about the horns or the tail. Scars. Trauma. The metal is from Duviri and I’ll give you three guesses which spiral.”
“Envy.” Orestes deduces based on all the green.
“Yep.”
Viridian points at him as if to say, ‘and you?’
“The tail because I'm top dog and the horns because I love breaking shit with my head, they make it easier.”
Orestes delivers like it’s fact and Viridian just gives him a look.
“Right.” He ashes his smoke and stands. “Thanks for breakfast. I’m gonna go see if Kaya knows a way back home.”
Viridian leaves the room headed towards where the round table is. He’s not in the mood for games or whatever it is Orestes is trying to play. At least he can count on Kaya for some normal-ish conversation and not whatever that was. He just gave as he got and Orestes struck him as someone with a sarcasm filter over pretty much everything and the man would burn out eventually then maybe they’d have an actual talk.
--
Orestes is lost in thought when Arthur comes home later in the afternoon seeing him looking contemplative.
“Something up, luv?”
“He confuses me.”
“Who?”
“Viridian.” He meets Arthur’s gaze and leans back in the chair. “He’s not like anyone I’ve met.”
“He needs to go back where he came from.”
“And he’s busy with Kaya trying to figure that out.”
“Good.” Arthur notices the ashtray with one of those cigarettes instead of Orestes’ typical cigars and his brow furrows. “He was here?”
“I offered him breakfast, he ate, we talked but I don’t know how to approach him.”
“I’d say let him be.”
…
Viridian sighs, he’d managed to use the navigation to head to the future and come back late that night with a carton of his smokes in hand and Loid looking into making him new files for his barbs. The man was surprised to see him, of course, but once he’d explained the situation and what bits he got from Kaya earlier in the day Loid was more than happy to offer his assistance.
“You make it a habit of being Houdini?”
“I’m just trying to figure out how to get out of here and out of your hair.” Viridian shrugs, lighting up, while staring the man down. The act was getting tiresome and he was determined to let Orestes fumble a little longer with it and he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Orestes eyes him wondering what’s the hurry - not that he’d say he wanted him back home too, but he’s perplexed why he doesn’t seem bothered to be outnumbered. So, he tosses a key at Viridian, and it clinks against his metal hand when he catches it.
“What’s the rush?” Ruby eyes level him.
“You and I both know I don’t belong here.” Viridian turns the key over in his palm recognizing the shop from his own world. “Figured I’d make it easy.”
“It’s better than you sleeping on the benches out in the open.” Orestes remarks watching Viridian turn the key over and over in his hand.
“Afraid I’ll scare the kids?”
He snorts. “No.”
Viridian walks out of the backroom following Orestes to the converted space and looks around. It’s spacious enough, close to the bar, and his brow furrows when he finds a small pack of toiletries and a fridge full of food. When he turns around to ask why the man is already gone and Viridian is left confused.