(Author's Notes: Let me make this very clear. I use a ton of OCs, but absolutely none of them are even intended to be SI characters. If my character delivery has failed, I admit that it could be my fault, but please note that I try to make each character work on their own merits. Besides, if I were like any of my characters, I'd be in government-mandated therapy.)
The music of the club pulsed, its heartbeat beeping the revelry within it alive. The dance floor was a tangle of limbs and lust, with people writhing to the maddening beat of the music. Hands groped at unmentionable areas, and bodies ground against each other, the music, the lights and the atmosphere driving all inhibitions from the minds of most of the club's patrons. The DJ, who for some strange reason was wearing a giant bear mask, more befitting of a mascot, was pumping out tune after tune to keep the party 'alive', so to speak.
But for a select few, they were trying to actually get shit done. And, nursing a cup of diluted yet pitch black, immensely bitter bilgewater that Junior had had the gall to pass off as strong coffee, the music and strobe lights only made Noctis even more pissed than usual. This was the fifth such place he had dragged himself into twice as many hours, and he was gradually losing his temper bit by bit. His sister was coming to Beacon, for God's sake, and he was trying to ensure his safety. Just in case her teammates dragged her into establishments such as this. Asking Junior to not sell her alcohol in the event that she became inebriated, and to instruct his men to keep their hands off her, seemed simple enough for the man to enforce that he would accept his proposition.
He drained his cup of black water, grimacing as he did. The bitterness of the fluid clung to the back of his tongue and throat. When he got back to the hotel suite that his family now resided in, he was going to drain the entire one litre bottle of complementary mineral water that stood on his nightstand, just to clear of his bowels of the bad coffee. His drink gone, he pulled the gas mask that had been hanging off his neck to cover his entire head, donning his helmet and clipping on the skull shaped armour place that was to cover his now masked face. His ruffled greyish hair was now pressed flat against his scalp by the mask, but luckily none of it reached his eyes. He needed to have it cut soon, Noctis noted.
However, his attempts to talk with Hei 'Junior' Xiong, the owner of this forsaken place and the best information broker of the Valean criminal underworld, had been interrupted by Roman Torchwick of all people. Sure, the infamous crime boss definitely warranted more attention than a mere bodyguard, but Roman has been allowed to bring his weapon in, while he had to leave Sable Lament in a locker, simply because it had no inert mode. At least he had been allowed to bring his parrying dagger in.
He was too far away to hear what they had been saying, but it certainly seemed serious enough.
Besides, he was too busy surreptitiously scanning the club with his scroll, downloading what was essentially a three dimensional blueprint of the place. Having friends in high places certainly helped.
Just in case he had to storm the place, guns blazing, in the future. Just in case he just so had to place a bomb in the premises.
A seat at the bar had ensured that he could get Junior's attention immediately after Roman left, and he was getting impatient. Not impatient enough to interrupt the two men, but some way there. The bulky greatcoat he wore was already getting uncomfortable to sit in, the coat having been designed for soldiers that were supposed to be standing for most of their time, and in winter climates, no less. However, he had specifically chemically impregnated it to ward against biological and chemical attack, you know, just in case someone throws in a gas grenade or something like that. It was also thick enough to provide limited physical protection against melee attacks and provided padding in case of blunt impacts. In other words, it was much better than that skimpy thing his sister wore for tournaments. In your face, sis!
He was now sitting on a bar stool, in an air-conditioned club.
Not exactly ideal conditions to be wearing a greatcoat and a vest of the same armour that made up his faceplate and shoulder plates over it. The mask was hooked up to a backpack sized battery, which Noctis referred to as a power pack. It powered both the air filtration system that made his gas mask functional, which was honestly unnecessary in a nightclub, and his now detached weapon. Noctis certainly felt lucky to have his gas mask, however. The bimbo hooker hanging around in the club, that was currently somewhere behind him trying to seduce a man whose baser urges were stronger than basic human intelligence, had perfume strong enough to count as poison gas.
While he brooded in a corner, Roman and Junior had apparently wrapped up their conversation. Excellent. Roman now stood and prepared to leave, saying, "See you around, Junior, and I trust that you won't just dump some dumb muscle on my hands." Then he walked off.
Noctis raised his hand and said, "Junior? Now you're done talking to Torchwick, can I ask you something?"
Junior didn't really seem surprised that Noctis knew the other man's name. Not that he should, with Roman's name and face plastered on the news almost every week.
But then another person, this time an almost scantily clad blonde walked in, and Junior replied "Hold on a sec, I need to deal with her first."
Noctis stared in disbelief. He had been waiting for the past half an hour, and he hadn't exactly been enjoying himself. Now, the first and probably last chance he gets to talk to Junior, owner of the largest and most popular nightclub in Vale, and it slips out of his fingers entirely? God damn it all. He slammed down the mug in his left hand, ignoring the spiderweb of cracks that almost instantly creeped over the entire porcelain structure.
His right arm reached up, and his forehead came to rest on his palm. A clear expression of exasperation if there ever was one.
The blonde went ahead and ordered a drink, much to Noctis's consternation. Looks like this was going to take a while. He decided to play a game on his scroll while waiting.
Staring at the blonde and Junior while they talked, Noctis had a few questions on his mind. Was this girl some sort of call girl, or was her frankly indecorous attire intentional?
Now they were sniping at each other. He wished that more people knew the skill of getting to the point of a conversation. That would be very useful here.
But then Junior asked for the blonde's name, and everything just went to hell.
Noctis realised, with a start, that the grin on the blonde's face had become positively predatory.
And her hand literally blurred into motion as she grabbed Junior's groin in a vice-like grip.
The man's agony was both visible and audible. Crying out in surprise and pain, his eyes bugged out and he bent over in a futile effort to protect his crotch.
Noctis clenched his left arm into a fist. The augmentic limb almost silently clicked and whirred, while panels opened to expose heat sinks. Servos locked in place and springs compressed while a piston, slightly more than half of the length of his forearm, connected his wrist to a point barely before his mechanical elbow.
His prosthetic arm's combat mode has been engaged. Hopefully, he wouldn't need to crush any skulls today. Bone fragments were a bitch to pick out.
He may not have Sable Lament with him, but he'll still put up a good fight regardless.
"People say you know everything." The blond had now discarded any semblance of civility, and was now into her pocket.
Junior's henchmen have started to gather around the scene, weapons drawn. Red swords and axes gleamed in the light of the nightclub. The Malachite twins have also begun to advance towards Yang, their grim expressions making their intentions clear.
Melanie's bladed heels engaged, while Miltia prepared her own claws. He silently praised them. Hiding weapons that well took skill.
The situation had become markedly more tense, Noctis notes, and a fight was exceedingly likely to break out at this point. Yay. Tactical genius for the win.
Instead of a weapon, which was what Noctis had feared, she took out her scroll and brought it up to Junior's face.
"Tell me where I can find her and I'll let you go." She said, still cheerful. "Or else, I close my hand. No more Juniors for Junior."
Junior's voice strained as he whimpered "I've never seen her before, I swear!"
Noctis stared in disbelief. This girl was mental! First she walks into a nightclub looking like a damn hooker, and expects to be taken seriously? Now she assaults the bartender, who by the way is a goddamn criminal bookkeeper, and humiliates him in front of possibly hundreds of people! He wouldn't be surprised if her house was blown up for revenge.
"You definitely know how compromising this looks, so I'd suggest you hurry the fuck up." The blonde chuckled, seemingly taking delight in the man's humiliation.
His voice still strained, Junior was apparently trying to bargain. The pained tone in his voice was unmistakably genuine.
"I don't know who the hell that is, so let me go now!"
The blonde let go, Junior breathing a sigh of relief.
"You'll pay for that!" The older man growled. He then puts his sunglasses back on and walks away, the blonde following closely behind.
Is she dumb, suicidal or both, Noctis wondered with derision in his mind. Pissing off someone so well connected, so powerful as to be able to own the largest entertainment venue in Vale complete with henchmen, and she still had the guts to aggravate him further after she had crushed his family jewels? That took some guts, and Noctis could respect that.
But guts was what got his father killed…along with his entire biological family, save for Noctis…
Guts was what led the Grimm to storm his hometown, killing almost everyone. He was lucky that that white cloaked woman had come to save him before it was too late, but that goddamn Goliath had trod on his left arm, and literally smeared it on the floor. Overkill much?
He had had to get a prosthetic arm, improving it over the years, and as for the kind white cloaked woman, with the greatsword that seemed so...radiant, resplendent in its ethereal light...he never saw her again…
Mountain Glenn had been a clusterfuck for all involved, but it had hit him especially hard. He sighed, before dismissing the line of thought. Best not to open that can of worms now.
Noctis winced. He looked down, looking for the source of the pain eating away at his right hand, and sure enough, his hand was crumbling away into ash. Again. Granted, it was minor, only disintegrating out from between his fingers, and the damage was already regenerating, but it was still there nonetheless. His semblance, however powerful it was, wasn't subtle and wasn't easily controlled. His body distintergating into ash in response to negative emotion was definitely not as friendly as say, magnetism. Some people had all the luck with semblances.
He couldn't lose himself to the pain. Not here, not now.
In the midst of his reminiscing, he barely heard the blonde try to...flirt? With Junior? Noctis snorted. Didn't she know that Junior was married? What kind of a rock was she living under? She had a scroll, and still seemed unaware.
And now she was asking to 'kiss and make up'? How shameless was she? Was she some kind of hooker? Well, she was probably one of almost a hundred he had seen at work today.
Junior, understandably, was both surprised and offended. However, his fear of the blonde before him override any sense of shame he might have felt, and he leaned in to comply with the violent blonde's demand.
And then the blonde punched him in the face, her bracers transforming into yellow combat gauntlets that covered her entire upper arm, causing Junior to rag doll across his own club. Luckily, he saw Junior's aura flare before the older man took an impromptu trip across his own club.
What. The Fuck. Noctis could only stare in disbelief. What kind of lunatic was this blonde? He had witnessed her commit assault, battery, sexual harassment and criminal intimidation in a span of less than ten minutes. The Troupe Master himself would have applauded at such a display of disrespect of the law. At least, before incinerating everything in a five kilometre radius. Murderous bastard.
He got up from the bar stool, his greatcoat billowing at his feet. Damn it all, this crazy woman was going to kill Junior! How was he supposed to negotiate with a dead man?
Seeing Noctis get up, and thinking that he was about to attack her, she pointed her gauntlet at him. A shotgun barrel springs out of its top, pointing at his chest. Without missing a beat, she opened fire, letting loose a burst of shotgun shells and sending Noctis flying into a wall with the sheer force of the buckshot slamming into his armour. The problem was that he had not had enough time to raise his aura, thus forcing his armour to crumple inwards to stop the buckshot.
To put it simply, it hurt. Pain upon pain. His ribs burned with it. He had probably broken a few of them from the impact. Every breath brought it. The metallic taste in his mouth only made it worse. His armour had been so badly dented that it was crushing his torso.
For some reason, he had expected his blood to taste sweet, almost cloyingly so. The familiar taste of iron had surprised him somewhat, but in retrospect maybe it was his brain playing tricks on him.
Noctis vaguely remembered reading how, in the Great War, blunt weapons were used to dent the plate armour worn by Valean Royal Guards, crushing the man within with his own armour plating. Now a similar situation had befallen him.
And as he tried to stand and extricate himself from the rubble of the ruined wall, the lead pile he gripped to steady himself snapped, sending him sprawling onto the jagged pieces of concrete. He tore off his dented, ruined chest plate, throwing it aside to the ground. He had landed on his shattered rib cage, making the pain even worse.
He had activated his aura which was not working to repair any damage it could, but the pain was almost too much to bear. He could barely stay conscious, what with the burning as his body dissolved into ash and reassembled itself simultaneously. The splitting headache as his mind slowly broke into two was also hard to deal with.
He slowly pulled himself up once again, falling down once again, this time onto his knees. The ash of his semblance was now falling away in a drifting mass from him, clinging onto his clothing before falling away to the floor, where it spread into smoky fumes, curling into rivulets that drifted slowly away from the greater mass.
His hand went to his side, drawing his parrying dagger. It wasn't much, but it was his only melee option at this point. Well, other than a lead pipe.
He barely noticed the blonde striding towards him, extending a hand in his direction. She said something that he barely heard.
"... you ….?"
She was going to finish him off.
He had failed.
He had failed his sister.
He had failed his family, both foster and biological.
He let the pain consume him.
He screamed. It was a scream more like that of a beast's, framed by a maw lined by too many teeth.
"To borrow the strength of the terrible undead darkbeasts, if only for a moment, to blast surrounding foes back with the force of a roaring beast... The indescribable sound is broadcast with the caster's own vocal cords, which begs the question, what terrible things lurk deep within the frames of men? Would you fall to the blood's allure, young Hunter, as so many others have done? There's always space for one more in the Hunter's Nightmare..."
/-/
Yang could only stare in horror as the burst of shotgun shells slammed into the heavily garbed man, denting the breastplate of his armour as he flew into the wall, his impact causing the wall to practically collapse onto him.
She had thought that he was another one of Junior's thugs, but in retrospect maybe he was just an innocent bystander who was trying to defuse a fight that he felt obligated to stop.
Oh god. She had just killed an innocent man.
Or she hadn't, as he saw the man stumble around the rubble, trying to right himself before falling back down into the rubble.
She rushed towards him, exclaiming "Oh god, are you okay?"
Junior's thugs, as well as the Malachite sisters, had backed off. Melanie was helping Junior up from the ground, while Militia stared at her in shock.
Rightly so, because this was a serious matter.
There were laws in place to protect normal civilians from becoming collateral damage in fights between those gifted with aura and semblances. If a Huntsman or someone with the same abilities, ie aura and a semblance, was found to hurt or kill an innocent person without aura, the punishments were dire indeed. If one were injured while engaged in criminal activities, say if a gang member had been injured by a Huntsman, the law was usually in favour of the Huntsman, but if an innocent civilian whom had just been at the wrong place and the wrong time had been injured or killed by a Huntsman? The law was even more condemning on the Huntsman than usual.
The punishment for murdering a civilian if you were a Huntsman? In the past, it was the death penalty. Execution by Huntsman, usually carried out by the leader of the local branch of the Huntsman's Guild or one of the more senior Huntsmen.
But with the abolition of capital punishment, the Huntsman would invariably be sentenced to life in maximum security prison. Solitary confinement in an underground facility kilometres under Remnant's surface, with no chance of parole. No hope of ever getting out.
Essentially, Yang's worst nightmare.
So she rushed over to assist the injured man, whom was kneeling on the ground, slumped forward in a clear sign of pain.
"Are you okay?" She asked. The smirk that had adorned her features until recently had been utterly wiped away, replaced by a look of concern.
She noticed neither the fine ash pouring off of the man's form as smoke, nor the lead pipe he gripped in his right hand, until it was too late.
She only found out when the man raised his head, meeting her lilac eyes with the most empty gaze she had ever seen. His black eyes, or at least what of them she saw through the lenses of his gas mask, seemed to be lightless pits, lifeless yet seeming to bore a hole into her skull with the intensity of his stare.
For the first time since entering the club, she felt afraid. Not for the man in front of her, but of him.
And then, the man screamed, sending out a wave of force that she somehow didn't understand with it. It seemed less of a scream and more of a bestial roar.
By some instinct rooted deep inside her psyche, Yang's arms raised themselves up to shield her face as something slammed into her and everyone else in the club with the force of a gale, sending her hair rippling back from the onslaught that hit her.
When she finally lowered her arms, a few things happened all at once.
Three things happened.
Firstly, the figure before her stood up, strode towards her, seemingly fiddling with something in his hands as he did so. Then, his figure started to disintegrate into the same ash that was now pouring off of the man.
Secondly, Junior's henchmen, with Militia at the helm, started to advance towards her again. Since the other guy turned out to possess Aura after all, all bets were off and now it looked like the gloves were off as well. Melanie was still helping Junior steady himself, but Junior was already hefting a massive club onto his shoulder.
Thirdly, and most importantly, as the figure before her fell away fully into ash, the thing the figure was holding clattered to the floor. Yang, noticing that the situation from before was going to return with a vengeance, only allowed her a second to notice the fallen object.
She ended up staring at the previously unknown object for much longer than that.
Militia, seeing that Yang was staring at something, turned to look at the objects, and started staring as well. Melanie forced Junior back onto the ground again, before taking cover herself.
Because what she, and everyone else, saw, was a hand grenade. Minus the pin.
Yang could only shout one precious word, before she, along with everyone else in the immediate vicinity, dove to the ground in the opposite direction.
"Fuck!"
The grenade went off, knocking everyone off their feet indiscriminately.
/-/
Sometimes, Noctis hated his semblance. It looked edgy as all hell, his gaze when it was active tended to make people incontinent with sufficient exposure, and the option teleporting for short distances while leaving behind short-lived clones that he had to literally split his brain to use just seemed not as effective in combat as say, magnetism. His brain literally split into two to control his two forms, with his left brain controlling his actual body, and his right brain controlling his clone. He was pretty sure that his empathy died a little every time he split himself, but he would deal with the repercussions later.
Other times? He absolutely loved it. Being a teleporting, nigh impervious reusable suicide bomber was just fun. Well, for him at least.
"Few hunters can resist the intoxication of the hunt! Look at you, just the same as all the rest!" He yelled, before bursting out into manic laughter.
He teleported behind the blonde, the stray ash coalescing into his form. He then swung the lead pipe at her, catching her on the head with a savage blow. Her aura absorbed the hit, of course, but it still disoriented her enough for him to prime another grenade and teleport away, leaving her to experience the detonation of the fragmentation grenade up close and personal.
She spun around, driving her fist into the face of the facsimile but only managing to smash its facsimile of its skull, displacing the ash that made up its head with a loud crack before the grenade exploded, sending her flying back from the shockwave and leaving her with a face full of shrapnel.
He teleported behind her again, this time doing a leg sweep that knocked the blonde off her feet. He caught the blonde on her way down with the point of his parrying dagger, driving it into her aura. The flames that had sprung up on her hair and the rapidly growing heat coming from her threatened to rip apart his form into ash floating in the breeze, but his aura soaked up the damage.
He kicked her between the legs, and when she crouched down to defend her lady bits he kneed her in he face. Of course he got backhanded in the head for his trouble, but that was why he wore a helmet. However, that still took a chunk out of his already strained aura.
The pain was gone now, nothing more than an unpleasant experience to be pushed aside and forgotten. What was left was the euphoria that his semblance gave him. He felt free. Free from the pain that constantly plagued him, his grief and guilt over having survived while so many others had died. Free from the fear that he would fail his new family, or lose them to death's cold, uncaring grasp.
In a fight, he felt truly free, if only for a moment.
"The beasts cannot be stopped! What good are hunters now?" He shouted, continuing to laugh. The words seemed to be spilling of his mouth, rather like a repressed memory to be honest. It didn't matter, anyway,
The procedure was simple, if only for a while. Whack her with the pipe to disorient her, then teleport away while leaving the resulting facsimile and the accompanying grenade to deal the real damage. Either that or find an opening for his parrying dagger to snake in past her defences and cut into her aura. Taking a few glancing hits chipped away at his aura, but it ultimately did not matter.
However, she soon caught on to the pattern, dodging the pipe and punching Noctis in the solar plexus with a right hook before he had the chance to teleport away. Well, fuck, he thought. That was most probably not a glancing hit.
She then swung her left fist in a wild haymaker towards his face, which he deflected with his metal left hand that he had brought up to block the attack. He then grabbed the blonde's head with his right hand, before slashing at the aura protecting the blonde's throat with the dagger in his left.
He then teleported away again, farther from the blonde than the last few times. He needed to plan another tactic, and fast.
His injured ribs were draining his aura for their own recovery, and right now his willpower was almost gone.
Almost.
He tried to teleport again, but as his body started to disintegrate into ash, two Fire Dust slugs slammed into him, stripping off his aura and pulling apart at his corporeal form. He only had enough strength to pull himself back together and avoid becoming simply part of the breeze before he dropped to the floor in a heap.
He raised his right hand, the lead pipe having clattered out of his reach, and gave the blonde bitch the finger.
"Fuck you..." He forced out through gritted teeth. "You got lucky..."
Having said his piece, he then proceeded to black out entirely.
/-/
Yang was, to put it simply, terrified.
One moment, the man was in front of her, a grenade about to explode in his hands and his figure already dissipating into shadow. The grenade would detonate, and Yang would be flung back by the force of the explosion. Next moment, he was behind her, swinging a lead pipe at her head to disorientate her enough to repeat the cycle. Being beaten, slashed and kicked in a very sensitive area probably wasn't helping as well.
And every time it completed itself, her aura became that much closer to being depleted. If it depleted...she didn't even want to think about it. A grenade going off point blank in her face wouldn't really leave much to bury, would it? And then she wouldn't be able to be there for Ruby. That terrified her even more, and drove her to find a way to break away from the rapidly worsening shitstorm that she had started.
The things he was saying, they somehow struck at something deep inside her. It was weird, but honestly terrifying. Those statements seemed to apply personally, down to her very soul. That scared her,
Luckily everyone else that wanted her blood had backed off, obviously afraid of getting caught in the crossfire of the seemingly immortal duplicating suicide bomber teleporting all over the place.
Thank god she still had around fifteen percent of her aura when she finally hit the terrifying assailant, breaking the deadly cycle, and the man teleported away again.
This time, she saw him from afar, and realised something.
Holy crap, I actually have a chance at surviving this, she thought.
She primed the shotguns of her gauntlets, and pointed them towards the crazy teleporting man. Fire Dust slugs, with their minor homing capabilities, would be perfect for this.
She fired, the projectiles racing towards him in a graceful arc, exploding when they slammed into his aura and launching him further away from her. He was also knocked to the ground by the blast. Even better.
This is my chance, she thought.
The Malachite twins, the henchmen, and Junior himself were staying well back from the bar area of the club, which had been reduced to a state remarkably similar to a smoking battlefield. A few grenades would do that.
With that in mind, she dashed out of the front door, no one bothering to stop her.
It honestly surprised her that Ruby was right outside, but she honestly had no time to respond.
"Yang? Is that you? What are you doing here?" She asked, her surprise evident both on her face and in her voice.
"No time to explain, sis! We need to go!"
Ruby looked even more surprised, both from Yang's curtness and the very obvious quaver in her voice.
Yang was afraid, Ruby realised. Afraid of what?
"What happened?" She jumped onto Bumblebee, riding pillion as they gathered speed.
"It's a long story, Rubes. And I'll need to change my pants before I tell you."
They then sped off into the frosty Vale night.
What she didn't stay to notice was that the man she had fought didn't get up.
Neither did she see Junior personally bring the man to the Vale General Hospital, admit him into a hospital ward, and contact his family.
/-/
Noctis woke up in a hospital bed, with Junior of all people sitting beside his sister at his bedside.
"Oh, you're finally awake!" His sister remarked. "I was thinking that your shattered ribs would have finally put you down for good."
"You know what'll finally put me down? You settling down for once." He snarked. Pyrrha rolled her eyes.
Junior then finally opened his mouth, saying, "You never told me your sister was Pyrrha Nikos of all people."
"I got interrupted." Noctis drawled.
"That's a major understatement, and you know it." The older man deadpanned. "I hope you'll be alright. That blonde bitch put you down, but you still put up one hell of a fight. You very nearly got the better of her, but I'd say she got lucky. Very lucky, with that semblance of yours. If both of you had been trying to kill each other, I'll have had to put my money on you. Where did you learn to fight like that?"
"Bodyguard classes." Noctis replied. "That and sessions with the same instructors my sister had. I never joined a tournament because my semblance would be overpowered enough for the judges to disqualify me on the spot." It was a lie, and both he and his sister knew it. She looked disapprovingly at him. What? Did she honestly expect him to confess his secret to a total stranger?
"What were you going to tell me before hurricane blondie came in and fucked everything up?" Junior asked.
"If my sister goes into your club with her teammates or friends..." Noctis mused. "If she looks like she's had enough alcohol, could you stop giving her alcohol before she gets too drunk for her own good?"
"You wanted to ask me that?" Junior looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'll follow through with that, it's club policy that Beacon students musn't become drunk in our premises anyway because they tend to smash up shit when drunk. However, it seems some just skip the getting drunk part." He sighed, before continuing. "Tell you what, I'll look out for her anyway, and I'll tell my men and anyone else I can get to listen to me to keep their hands off her."
"Ahem." Pyrrha cleared her throat. "I'm still here, guys. And of course I won't get drunk, don't be silly."
"But... but if your friends or teammates challenge you to a drinking competition or something…?" He stammered.
"I'm competitive, but not that competitive." She said, rolling her eyes. "Oh, I forgot to tell you that Headmaster Ozpin called your scroll earlier, but you were sleeping."
"Who? Ozpin, of all people?" Noctis surprisedly exclaimed. "What the fuck?"
"Language, dumbass." Pyrrha swatted his arm. "Headmaster Ozpin to both of us. He called to notify us that you've been accepted to Beacon with me."
"What?" Noctis practically shouted, still minding his language.
"Yeah, something about if you were a Beacon student that fight you got into could be passed off as a scuffle between two students, but if you weren't, the other Huntress-in-training will be in some really hot water legally. He then asked if you'd like to be enrolled as a student. I accepted on your behalf, of course."
Noctis just stared in shock. Happy shock, but still.
"Well, I'd have had to get new armour soon anyways. Always wanted to test out that new Kevlar-ceramic composite armour, but I never found an excuse to break it out until now." He shrugged. "By the way, where's my weapon?"
"I have it with me." Junior announced, and produced a heavy looking rifle, its barrel shrouded with what Noctis knew was a coolant tank. "I got Melanie to open your locker with the master key, and it's been with me ever since. It's a weird looking weapon if I've ever seen one. Could you show me how it works?"
"Sorry, I can't. It isn't charged anyway, so I can't show you the coolest part. All I can tell you is that the rifle can transform into a rapier."
"What's the coolest part then?" Junior asked.
"It shoots lasers." Both Noctis and Pyrrha replied, the former in excitement and the latter in exasperation.
"Damn. Must be near impossible to dodge. Remind me to never get on your bad side, alright? Anyway..." He paused. "You kind of blew up a lot of my club. I'm not gonna chase you for compensation or anything, since I know that shit kinda hit the fan there, but you still broke a lot of bottles and spilled a lot of booze."
Noctis chucked. "We both know that you keep the good stuff in the back. You run a bar for Huntsmen, Junior. Those bottles out in the front were probably filled with coloured water."
"You're actually spot on." Junior admitted. "Now, your sister actually told me that my club was actually the last stop before you were done, so I feel like I should apologise for the shitstorm I accidentally pulled you into."
"It's alright." Noctis shrugged. "It's about par for the course anyway. My luck with stuff like this is generally horrible."
"I kinda to go now, sorry. The club isn't going to manage itself, and I need to make sure that the repair crew aren't gonna pilfer the place."
"See you around, Junior!" Noctis chuckled, waving as he did. "Don't worry one damn bit about what the blonde one said, your name fits you perfectly!"
"See you around, kiddo." The larger older man said, smiling as he did, as he walked out of the ward door.
"Now, what to do with the Beacon situation…?" Noctis asked himself. Now he could scout out the place itself as well… perhaps put down defences once he found out where his sister's dorm room was.
"No. Don't even think about it." Pyrrha put her foot down. She looked even more exasperated, if it was possible to be in such a state. "Firstly, you need to recover. Secondly, that's just plain creepy."
"Aww…" Noctis whined.
Still, there were worse things than not getting to place a surveillance system. He decided to let the matter rest. After all, what could go wrong?
(Author's notes: Well, hello ! This is my first fanfic, and a crossover at that, so at the moment I've only got a basic outline as to where this story will go. You might notice that this has been labelled as a Bloodborne crossover, but it's what I call a gradual AU. You'll eventually notice it, trust me. Updates will be sporadic at best, but I pledge to do my utmost best to finish this thing.)
(If you're looking for Bloodborne content, that's from Ch.4 onwards. The first three chapters are character intros.)