Kitiara Club

V. · Places · Relics

In the Rearranging City: The Glove in the Shadows

Archive Guest · 6 pages

Comic

The city rearranges itself as they walk.

Benny Profane and Rachel Owlglass walk together at the head of the Whole Sick Crew, stepping through rain-slicked, foggy 1950s New York streets, neon lights flickering. Period buildings and shadowy alleys surround them, with Herbert Stencil leading in the distance, trench coats and scarves catching the drizzle.
Remind me again, what are we looking for?Benny Profane
Stencil says it’s a glove. Or a message.Rachel Owlglass
Establish the rain-soaked city and the Crew's journey1 / 6
Herbert Stencil kneels at a steel hatch in a rain-slick sidewalk, motioning for Benny and Rachel to approach; the Crew clusters behind under umbrellas and hats, mood tense.
It's here. Someone left a sign.Herbert Stencil
You sure it’s not just a sewer, Stencil?Benny Profane
Rachel glances at Benny, concern on her face, while Benny shrugs, hands in pockets, indifferent to Stencil's obsession.
We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.Rachel Owlglass
I got nothing better. Might as well see the show.Benny Profane
The Crew faces the mysterious hatch; Benny and Rachel hesitate2 / 6
Benny, Rachel, and Stencil descend crumbling stone steps into a shadowy underground bar, illuminated only by leaking streetlight through a grate.
If I find a job down here, I’m staying.Benny Profane
Inside the bar: Rachel stands at the warped counter, fingers tracing letters in the wood; Benny slouches at a toppled stool, Stencil searches near a broken jukebox.
Someone carved a letter here. 'V' maybe?Rachel Owlglass
Or maybe just 'vodka'.Benny Profane
Stencil, on hands and knees, finds a white glove beneath the jukebox. Rainwater drips in. Benny watches, unimpressed.
See? V. was here.Herbert Stencil
Or someone lost a glove.Benny Profane
Descent and discovery; the Crew enters the shuttered bar3 / 6
Rohearn enters in a heavy coat, brow furrowed, confronting the Crew. Paardekoper follows, spectacles fogged, observing quietly.
This isn’t a treasure hunt, Stencil. It’s a waste of time.Rohearn
Sometimes, the search is all that matters.Paardekoper
Rohearn and Paardekoper arrive; tension and philosophical doubt4 / 6
Close-up: Stencil holds the white glove aloft in the bar's dim light, Crew gathered around—some skeptical, some hopeful. Rainwater glistens on the floor. Benny and Rachel exchange a glance, uncertain.
It's her mark. The beginning or the end.Herbert Stencil
Climax: The glove in Stencil's hand; the city waits5 / 6
Benny slouches against the bar, Rachel beside him, hands nearly touching. The Crew disperses in the background, the city’s rain faint above.
Maybe next time, it’ll just be a drink.Benny Profane
I’d like that, Benny.Rachel Owlglass

The city rearranges for the next story.

Exterior: rain flickers in neon as the Crew emerges, shadows stretching on the wet sidewalk.
The city’s map is never finished.Herbert Stencil
Aftermath: small connection, the night moves on6 / 6
Chapter prose
Benny Profane hunched his shoulders against the drizzle, the collar of his old Navy jacket turned up as if that could keep out the wet and the city both. Rachel Owlglass walked beside him, her trench coat buttoned primly, handbag clutched in gloved hands. The neon behind them flickered, the Whole Sick Crew trailing in comedic knots—laughter echoing off damp brick—while, ahead, Herbert Stencil glided like a rumor through the streets. "Where are we even going?" Benny asked, glancing sidelong at Rachel as they left the Village's warmth and angled toward the river. The wind brought the smell of rain mixing with garbage and distant bread. Rachel shrugged, her eyes worried. "Stencil says it's important. A glove, or a sign. You know him." "I know him. He ever find something that wasn’t a symbol?" Benny's voice was dry, but Rachel smiled, a small warmth in the fog. Stencil led the party into deeper, older streets, where the city’s bones showed—rusted grates, blackened lamp posts, a web of alleyways that seemed to fold outward at impossible angles whenever Benny looked away. He’d walked these streets before, but tonight, they rearranged themselves, always placing the Crew in front of shuttered doors and cryptic signage. At last, they arrived at an unmarked steel hatch sunk into the sidewalk. Stencil knelt, wiped the grime, and beckoned. The Crew hesitated, but Benny, half out of boredom and half out of loyalty, moved to help. The hatch groaned open, revealing crumbling stone steps descending to a long-shuttered bar—a forgotten haunt of the city’s underworld, now echoing only with water and secrets. Inside, the air was thick with mildew and lost time. Benny’s shoes squelched on the uneven floorboards. Rachel’s scarf fluttered as she took in the bar: toppled stools, broken mirror, bottles crusted with dust. Stencil prowled, his notebook flicking open, searching every shadow for the elusive glove of 'V.' Benny trailed after him, his mind wandering. He thought about jobs—real ones, ones with pay stubs and clocks to punch. But the city, like Stencil, always pulled him off course. Rachel’s presence grounded him, but even she seemed caught in the drift tonight. "What if it's just a glove?" Benny asked, watching Stencil kneel by the old jukebox, investigating a scrap of white leather. Stencil looked up, eyes shining. "Nothing is just anything, Profane. The city is a map, every object a sign." Rachel stood at the bar, fingers tracing a forgotten letter carved in wood. "Some things are just lost. Not everything has to mean." Rohearn, battered overcoat heavy with rain, pushed inside, brow furrowed. "You’re wasting your time," he grunted. "This isn’t a treasure hunt." Paardekoper entered last, spectacles fogged, quietly noting the room. "Sometimes, the search changes the seeker more than the sought." A sudden clatter echoed—a loose pipe, or the city itself shifting. Stencil retrieved the glove, triumphant yet uncertain. Benny, tired, slouched against the bar, meeting Rachel’s eyes. For a long moment, the world outside seemed suspended. The glove was real, cold and ordinary in Stencil’s hand. Maybe it was a sign, maybe just leather. Benny reached for Rachel’s hand, grounding himself in the present, as the city outside rearranged for the next story. Rain spattered down the stone steps, and somewhere above, the neon flickered on.
Original idea

Places path: Benny Profane and Rachel Owlglass walk a Whole Sick Crew party from the Village to a shuttered sewer bar where Stencil thinks V. left a glove. The city rearranges itself; Profane wants a job, not a symbol.

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