Disclaimer: I own nothing of Kim Possible or RWBY.
Fire
By: Imyoshi
Roman Torchwick wasn't someone so easily impressed by the little things. He was avaricious, resilient, alluring, untrustworthy, and above all else, devilishly smart. When it came to surviving, he knew, as others would say, when to hold them and when to fold them. A handy trait picked up from a life of crime. Who wouldn't if they played the game long enough? When life gave him lemons, he suckered some poor sap into buying them for three times the market value. Hard work and an honest day's pay be damned.
So when life gave him lemons again, he was surprised, and mildly impressed, that someone somehow managed to turn their buy into a profit of their own, little as it might be.
Now Roman Torchwick didn't believe in luck—hating the notion of trusting one's odds on superstition and chance—he believed in profit. Numbers and paper were the only real object worth pursuing in life, but maybe he might give this whole luck gimmick another crack before calling it quits. Why fold when there was a straight on the table and he was hiding a king in his sleeve? The odds just might be in his favor, after all.
...
Not all days of a Master Criminal were filled with random car chases or heist that have gone horribly, horribly wrong. Some days were dull and uneventful, while others were interesting and nauseating bright. Others were like the flip of a coin, left to chance. Today the weather looked grim and nasty.
His kind of weather.
Walking through the streets of the poorer district of Vale, Roman strolled with a purpose even if said purpose had no actual purpose. It was important to keep up appearances, and appearing intimidating played many important roles. Looking weak and lost could get people eaten alive down here in the slums, not like anyone would dare cross paths with the Master Criminal. He held a reputation that preceded him, but old habits died hard.
His mood might've been called content if it wasn't for the two little devils pestering him, accompany him on one of his very few days off. They latched onto him like debt collectors, refusing to abandon him and find better things to do with their time. Why? The knowledge was lost to him. Asking would prove unfavorable, too. Knowing them, they would latch onto his disinterest in them and ground away at his nerves till nothing remained but the barrel of his cane pointed directly at their very weak hearts. And even though he would find no greater joy in pulling the trigger, it would prove detrimental to his overall health.
"So... what are we doing here?" Devil number one asked, a.k.a. Mercury Black, scouting the few people lingering about. "There can't possibly anything entertaining around these dumps."
Roman smirked, twirling his trusty cane on his index finger. "I'm scouting for possible talent."
"Talent?" Mercury's partner in crime scoffed, clicking her teeth in a superior way. "What kind of talent would we find out here in this part of town?"
Roman fixed Emerald Sustrai a light glare, patting the girl on her mint-green head before she could brush away his hand. Ah, Master Thief she may be, but she was still fairly young—both of them were. They didn't understand that all talent came from the bottom of the barrel. That was where people were desperate to climb out and escape their hellish prison, and the only feasible way to accomplish said goal was the reliance of unique and a rather useful set of skills.
Skills only nurtured in hellholes such as the poor district of Vale.
"Sorry." They both knew Roman wasn't sorry. "If this part of town lacks your tall buildings and diverse culture you've come to love so much, but no one is forcing you to be here. I could handle this perfectly on my own."
"Right..." she said with a roll her eyes, lacking any sort of trust in him. "Like you could accomplish anything on your own."
"This isn't a heist or a job, there's no reason for either of you two to follow me."
"We're bored." Mercury laughed bitterly. He was checking out the urban area in a weak interest. "Cinder's got nothing for us to do. Thought we tag along and see what lame adventure you've set yourself up on."
Roman answered that with another rub of Emerald's hair before the latter could stop him. A soft growl came from the young thief, but he ignored her attempts at looking cute, keeping his eyes open for anything strange to happen. Anything at all. Never could be too careful down here. Desperation could make a man do suicidal things.
Would he rather be free of the children? Of course! Nothing would liven up his day better. Did the force dub luck smile down on him? Nope! The shrewd woman never had and probably never would. Such was the fate of Roman Torchwick and the thing he called a life. Didn't mean too much to him, anyway. He'd always made his own luck.
Enjoying the small silence, for however long that could last, Roman's interest was peaked ever so slightly when Emerald moved faster than him to get ready to accidentally crash into an unsuspecting blond with messy unkempt hair, grayish dark cargo pants, and a wrinkled, dirtied black shirt that was heading their way, minding his own business. The poor kid didn't know what was about to hit him—literally.
Crash!
It was nothing special. Just a simple shove of the shoulders before Emerald stealthily reached down into the teen's cargo pants and pulled something out before the sap was none the wiser. She fell down on her butt, hiding the item in her back pocket as she fell upon her hand, looking like a total klutz, really selling the act for the poor fool to fall hook, line, and sinker for.
Now it was time for the show.
"Oh! I'm sorry!" Emerald played the fools quite well, apologizing like one. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."
"Hey, no big!" The stranger was all smiles, reaching down to grab Emerald's hand and help her up. He did it with little effort. "Sorry for crashing into you. It's both our faults."
The teen lightly patted her on the back as a show of good health when she stood up, fixing her a smile larger than hers and walked away without a care in the world. He even whistled a cheerful tune, almost skipping really. It was enough to gauge a heaving reaction out of the Master Thief. Although the little devils may have missed it, Roman didn't.
That smile on the young man's face was anything but grand. He personally knew that look, he himself had set that look on others from time to time. The look of a defeated person weighed heavily in those guy's chocolaty eyes. Someone with nothing to lose and everything to gain. Then again, the look wasn't too uncommon in a place littered to the edge of despair and sadness. Nonetheless, it was an odd treat to find someone so kind down here in the slums. One would expect from a crueler environment, crueler people. Curiously enough, that appeared to not always be the case.
Waiting to turn a corner to check the goods, Roman's memory of the teen died as he eagerly awaited to see what was hidden in his wallet. Common thievery one-o'-one, no thief pulled out the fruit of their labors when the target was still in range. Only a fool would pull off that stunt.
Finally turning that pesky corner, Mercury and Roman stop to see Emerald reach into her back pocket with a look of smug arrogance—for all about three seconds—then all her arrogance was washed away in a heartbeat. Her eyes widened as she searched through her back pockets a few times before hastily checking her front pockets in a high panic. Both the males were stunned as Emerald furiously swam into all her pockets until she'd exhausted the fruit of her labors and ran off to where she bumped into that teen.
It was there she spotted her wallet on the floor, clear as day.
Both Roman and Mercury didn't have a word to say as Emerald reached down and opened her wallet. "What the hell?!"
Encouraged by her screams of outrage and bloody murder, Mercury and Roman glance over Emerald's shoulder and see a note where all her lien was supposed to be, written in clear haste, yet, the message was obvious, even in the poor weathering.
Your technique could use a little work. Better luck next time! R.S.
Time skipped over them for another three seconds before Mercury burst out laughing at the sheer irony of everything. Even Roman joined in on the fun, more so when Emerald started yelling at them to stop, to which he did, but Mercury did not. He only laughed harder, actually leaning on the wall to support his bouts of laughter, too concerned to keep his breathing even and footing steady.
Mercury's legs might actually give out on him.
Snickering, Roman ignored the two to pick up the paper Emerald dropped on the floor as she launched a frenzy of insults Mercury's way. Of course, he brushed her aside, almost choking on his lack of exhaustion, but fought on just for the sheer idea of someone one-upping Emerald, supposed Master Thief, at her own game. He was never going to let her live this down. Not until his dying days. Which might be sooner that Mercury believed if he didn't let up on the laughter.
Rereading the note, Roman's visible eye twinkled in absolute mischief as his evil smile grew, letting his mind ponder over the subtle implications of this little discovery just now while the children battled it out. What those two saw was a guy who got one over their sweet little Emerald. Typical bratty behavior. What Roman Torchwick saw was endless possibilities and even greater talent. Just like when Monty gave him lemons, Roman saw a potential profit to be made, and it was all thanks to Emerald pushing her luck just a tad too far.
Maybe, just maybe, there was more to this thing called dumb luck than Roman first believed.
...
Using trustworthy sources, it took a little over a week for Roman to dwell about the whereabouts of his potential friend. Luck kept shining down upon him as Cinder was none the wiser since Emerald was too ashamed and scared to admit that someone got the drop on her in thievery. Mercury didn't rat on her because blackmail material was so hard to come by these days, and Roman knew Cinder wouldn't believe him without either of the two kids backing him up. Besides, he rather she didn't know of a potential ally or enemy. The less she knew about anything, the better for Roman Torchwick.
Technicalities aside, wouldn't it be nice to have a Master Thief of his very own, someone to call his teammate? Sure, he had Neo, ice-cream lover and thief extraordinaire, but Cinder had two subordinates. Twice the amount as him! Roman didn't like it when the odds weren't stacked in his favor. Like the hidden ace in a gambler's sleeve, everyone played for keeps.
So he had called in a few favors and had the underworld be on the lookout for a potential blond wearing cargo pants and a black shirt somewhere in the streets of Vale's lower class section. Not much to go on and very unreliable information, but apparently enough because one of Junior's men saw his target hanging around the docks, actually attempting to fish in the questionable water.
Roman wasn't too sure if that was a cover-up or an actual attempt at catching fish. Fishing there? That was a poor man's game. Had to be a cover. Either way, he got the information he needed and quickly drove to the docks, cutting corners and running all the red lights he fashioned. Lounging beside him, Roman's partner and right-hand man, eh, woman tagged along, smiling in a way that would send a weaker man to his knees.
She was the only one who knew of Roman's master plan, always on his side no matter what obstacles lie in front of them. Be it good or bad, Neo was the only person he could trust in this shady business or in life in general. One day he'd find a way to pay her back for her support, even if she insisted that he'd already given her so much and more. She was the only debt Roman didn't plan to skip out on.
Sliding their disguise ice-cream truck into a vacant parking spot, he whistled as they got out, not caring he parked in a red zone. There were bigger fish to fry than the troublesome law. Time to find a possible left-hand to add to the ranks of Team Roman!
Tracking his cane on the floor, the two criminals entered the docks, looking for his mark. Junior's goon did mention he was fishing, so they head closer to the body of water. It wasn't until a few minutes of fruitless searching that Neo spotted him resting on the back of a tanker with an oddly nice looking fishing rod. His eyes were closed and legs arched half up, but his breathing told of him being awake, obviously waiting for his line to bite, or to run. Without blinking, Roman knew that was the posture of a trained person.
Now the real fun part was figuring out what type of training.
How deliciously delightful!
Making their way toward the stationed teen, Roman was pleasantly surprised to find the guy turning his head to meet their presence, even against the softness of their footsteps and lull of the nearby ships masking most of the sound.
Definitely traits of a trained person.
"Can I help you?"
Judging by the way his eyes seemed solely trained on Roman; the criminal knew the kid recognized him from the week before. Yet, oddly enough, he made no move to get up. Not yet. Gauging the situation before jumping right into the frying pan. Just another quality of a trained and experienced body.
Neo was looking at the kid with almost the same look as Emerald, judging him based on his muddy appearance, the unkempt ruff of messy blond hair, and wrinkled clothes. She practically fell into the same false sense of security dear old Emerald fell into, but fortunately, she remembered what Roman said, and kept her troublesome thoughts at bay. Never judge a book by its cover. Another quip that Roman drilled into her.
Pulling out a piece of paper from his coat pocket, Roman threw the kid the paper with his writing on it. "Yes, you can. You're the one who stole from one of my... lesser subordinates last week. Or do I have the wrong man?"
He trailed off and the blond picked up the paper before throwing out to the calm ocean, lightly tightening his hold on the fishing rod. "And what? Baggage issues? Here for revenge?"
There was a hint of amusement in his voice, almost like this wasn't the first time revenge had crossed his path. Even Roman might've believed he was joking if it wasn't for the way the blond now held the fishing rod between his fingers in a somewhat tight vice grip, ready to swing at a given moment.
The smirk never left Roman's face. "On the contrary, I've come to thank you for pushing down a peg. She needed to be reminded that anyone could push her into the dirt. It was a good lesson. One I've had trouble trying to get to stick. But your little stunt fixed that. And I gotta admit, it was funny."
The grin on the kid's face never fell, but he did lower the fishing rod back to its original spot. "You came all this way to tell me that?"
Roman's smirk grew. He knew fairly well that wasn't the reason he came here for. At least not entirely.
Good.
"Well, since we are on the subject, I've come to personally ask you something." He lingered, leaning on the tanker. "Where'd you learn to pickpocket like that? Even I didn't notice your sleight of hand. That's some serious skill you got."
The kid tensed up, looking away from Roman and Neo to continue on fishing. The Master Criminal held back a vile comment on the tip of his tongue, clicking his teeth silently together. Maybe another approach was in order because something in Roman's gut told him that he couldn't catch this kid if he suddenly decided to hightail it, and he had called in too many favors for this deal to head south. Best to play the game defensively for a bit. Real in him with offers of temptation.
Now, what were his temptations?
Getting off the tanker, Roman pushed his hands out. "Okay, okay, I see the problem! Why should you tell me anything when I haven't even introduced myself? Fair enough. As an act of goodwill, I'll go first. The name's Roman Torchwick, and this here is my companion, Neo." Neo did a small wave. "And yours is?"
Not relaxing his shoulders, the teen eventually answered. "... Ron Stoppable."
Roman paused, losing his smirk, sure to hell he'd never heard of that surname before. Of all the names out there, he had a generally good grip on the family trees of many families out there. The good and the bad, including any that remotely sounded bizarre, but never before had he heard of the Stoppable family. That wasn't exactly a name sounding remotely common or normal. Roman knew he would've noticed that as a family name if he ever saw it in a passing contact, even as a footnote. Things weren't adding up.
Crime was a game meant for the intelligent. Not knowing something left a bitter taste in the player's mouth.
Collecting his thoughts, he tried to smile at Ron, not exactly an easy task considering the kid didn't bite. "So, Ron, mind telling me where you picked up those hands of yours? I'm oddly curious to know. Might make a stop there myself after lunch."
Silent for a moment, Ron got up and pulled out the fishing rod with a large tuna fish attached to his line, before placing the poor thing into a nearby bucket of water. The ocean was calm under the sun and Ron looked out to the vast horizon, wind breezing past his unkempt hair with a gaze surprisingly strong for a teen his age, almost as if he'd seen the impossible and lived to tell the tale.
"Would you believe me if I told you I'm from some other dimension? Where I was part of a crime-fighting team who regularly stopped bad guys from taking over the world, only to have some freaky ninja magic transport me here to this world called Remnant? Or maybe that I've been stuck in this whacked out world for about a month? Heck, for all I know I'm not in some different dimension. Maybe a different planet or time period. It's all so confusing."
More silence followed after and only the gentle sound of nearby birds and the ocean filled the void. The fish in the bucket moved in circles, adding another part to the harmony, diffusing any hostility in the area. Then Roman was chuckling to himself. His partner hid her silent smile behind her palm, looking positively amused at Ron's clever joke. Nothing could save the serenity from breaking underneath their tight laughter, and Ron held back a sigh as they probably thought his story nothing more than a web of lies.
What else was new?
Calming himself down, Roman grinned in an evil light. "Fine, don't tell me. I can understand keeping the art of your trade a secret. No honor among thieves, am I right? That's no problem with me or Neo, but onto a new matter. I've got a proposition for you. What would you say to putting those skills to better use?"
"If you're talking about stealing from other people, then you can forget it. I'm not a thief."
The criminal mastermind was amused. "But you stole from my little friend earlier? What would you call that?"
"That was different." Ron defended with a cross of his arms. "I only stole from her because she tried to steal from me, okay! I don't like stealing. It's wrong."
"Yet you know the skill?" Roman pestered, nudging him with his cane. "No one knows how to pickpocket for good reasons."
The sidekick was tempted to tell him pickpocketing henchmen to stop total world domination was a justice cause, but they would probably think of it as another funny joke. They already thought he was a thief by some degree. Even if Ron insisted that was his backstory, he doubted they would believe him now. Not entirely at least. The very few strangers he did bother telling thought he was some sort of comedian and others looked at him like he was mentally insane. Others simply didn't care and walked away, muttering things Ron hadn't care to hear at the time.
The sidekick had eventually given up altogether.
Still, in his mind, he had justified the moment he stole from that girl. Stealing from a thief was alright in some context of the rules. Like that guy in tights. Robin something! She must've stolen the money from some other person, so the money already didn't belong to her. And truth be told, he was hungry. How could he resist the urge to beat her at her own game and reap in on the rewards? Plus, it was a great dishonor if a thief stole from a ninja or something along those lines. Point being, he'd trained as a ninja, if only for a short period of time, there was no way he was just going to let her win.
Pride was definitely a motivator in the grand scheme of things.
"I don't work with bad guys." Ron instead settled to say, hoping that was enough for Roman. He began to walk away from the duo. "Sorry."
Roman clicked his teeth, not liking the idea of having come this far to simply walk away empty-handed. A fair number of his contacts had been used in the plan. There had to be something to rope Ron Stoppable into his line of business. Anything to get the kid to rest on the other side of the pillow. Just the idea having Ron under his wing alone would peeve Emerald to no end, and he simply couldn't let something like that slide between his fingers.
Not without some insurance fraud.
Taking his attire into account, the Master Criminal raised his voice. "Look, it's a tough world out there. You gotta find some way to survive. I'm offering you an out."
"I'm doing just fine on my own!" Ron yelled from over his shoulder.
Of course Roman didn't believe him. How could he? "Really? Because your outfit speaks otherwise? It doesn't take a genius to figure out you're sleeping on the streets. You kept that money because you needed it. You're starving; all of us here can see that."
Ron's hero will wavered a bit. Not much, but a subtle shift made itself known. Maybe when he had just landed in this world, he would've just blocked out Roman's rambling and kept at walking without a second glance, but the month had been terribly long and arduous. He had long since given up going back home. His resolve just wasn't there. Not anymore. Only a deep, empty feeling remained that clawed at his chest, killing the sidekick slowly with each passing day.
Ron Stoppable didn't even know what he was fighting for anymore.
Loneliness could break or crack even the strongest of spirits with enough time, no matter how resilient or powerful their fortress of immunity claimed to be and his will was breaking more each day.
Not giving up, Roman followed Ron with Neo trailing right behind him. "If you needed money so bad, then why didn't you get a job like some goody-two-shoes?" Ron's subtle grip on the fishing rod was enough to answer Roman's question. "You can't, can you? Let me guess, no identification? No records? And you're too skinny for construction work. Or are you trying to hide from the law?"
Ron Stoppable kept on walking, trying to block out Roman's pestering. He almost turned the corner of the tanker until Roman threw one more line out to reel him back in.
"Alright, kid. How about I up the ante? I'll throw in a room and food on the house. I saw what you did and with skills like that, you're too valuable to let go to waste. How about we make a deal? Something? Give me something to work with here." Roman wasn't lying. Anyone who could out-pickpocket Emerald Sustrai definitely outplayed a large pool of potential thieves. Ron Stoppable was one of those people. "Throw a guy a bone."
Halting his movements, Ron weakly sighed, finally turning halfway to meet his gaze. "I don't want to hurt innocent people."
He was so hungry and tired of sleeping outside that the offer of a roof over his head sounded too good to be true. Before, on various missions, sleeping outside was okay. It had to be done. But he wasn't on a mission anymore; he was stuck in a world that was slowly draining the life out of him. There was no one to watch his back and each day felt longer than the last. Some nights he stared up at the broken moon and wished to be back home where the moon made sense and life didn't hate him.
"I can't promise you that." Roman said after a pause. He wasn't an idiot and neither was Ron. They both know what was on the line here. "All I can give you is food and a place to sleep in exchange for those hands of yours. Like you said, we're criminals, not heroes. Innocent people will probably get hurt."
The sidekick glanced down at his fishing rod, having a silent conversation with the tool before eventually his stomach and sore body made the decision for him. He would've kept walking away if not for Roman's blunt honesty. The criminal didn't try to sugarcoat his words or mislead him with false promises. The man inexplicably said he couldn't promise that and pointed out in acute detail of his motives. Whatever cards he kept up his sleeve remained his. Roman just made sure to let Ron know he had them. So generally speaking, the sidekick shouldn't be surprised one little bit when the odds tipped in Roman's favor.
It was honesty in the falsest sense of the word and Ron Stoppable respected the man for saying it.
Thinking the offer over, he peered down at the trapped fish in the new world Ron whisked it to. The sidekick silently wondered what the little guy would trade to escape the prison it'd been trapped in. He was in the same boat. Only his prison was filled with strange people and was far larger, but still a prison nonetheless. One he couldn't escape from. Maybe not yet, maybe not ever, but he still had to try. There wasn't a point in giving up. Not while he was still breathing and kicking.
Closing his eyes, he let his shoulder fall, flashing back to old periods in his life to unearth his answer.
He wasn't surprised at how easy it was to consider Roman's offer. He'd been a bad guy once, and Kim told him he wasn't so bad at it. Maybe it was time to hang up the hero boots and try on the villain ones once more, just to keep himself off the streets. Life wasn't giving the sidekick any breaks. Handouts weren't coming his way anytime soon. He wasn't lying about freaky ninja magic sending him here to Remnant. Ninjas weren't exactly known for their honesty. They were mercenaries. Plain and simple.
So in short, Ron Stoppable could either be a sidekick or mercenary. All depending on how the sitch was looked at. "You could tell me more over some food. Of course, you're buying."
Roman grinned, lighting up a cigar from his coat pocket.
...
Driving around in Roman's ice-cream truck, Ron settled in the middle of the seat, a little peeved that there was no said ice-cream in the actual truck. A clear ripoff if he'd ever seen one. Luckily for him, his attention was captured by the tiny girl sitting next to him and her totally bodacious hair and eyes. At the time of their little meeting, he didn't really have the time to appreciate her fascinating looks.
Now, however, there was plenty of time to gawk at her amazing beauty and appetizing appearance. "That's the badicalest hair I've ever seen. It's so amazing! And the colors are so out of this world! You're like a walking ice-cream cone! And who doesn't love ice-cream!"
Neo absorbed the attention like a hungry sponge, enjoying the sound of his voice complimenting her on her perfect eyes and beautiful hair. It was nice to get some attention, and not the kind that looked at her and thought what the hell, but the kind that was all flattery and honest. She may not know what the word badical meant and might be a stickler for honesty, but his innocent smile was enough for her to let it slide. Compliments were always welcomed. Her ego always had room for one more.
"You don't talk much, do you?"
"She's mute..." Roman answered while wondering more about Ron's other possible talents. "So, kid, what brings you down here to our neck of the woods, anyway? How'd you end up in the big, bad forest?"
Ron peered out the window. "Uh? Aren't we in a city?"
"It's a figure of speech."
The sidekick leaned back on the seat. "Yea, English, not my strongest subject."
Roman still wasn't sure if Ron Stoppable was playing him, but the kid had an honest face. No wonder Emerald fell hook, line, and sinker for his innocent bystander act. He, too, probably would've fallen victim if he had targeted Ron for a quick pickup like clueless Emerald. Not to say the same results wouldn't have happened. Roman would've searched for the kid high and low with an equally, if not greater passion if it had. So in the end, Fate had its claws on Ron from the start. Roman just so happened to pull him out from the claws and into his.
The kid knew this fairly well.
"How about we get down to business then, shall we?" Roman parked the vehicle, not noticing a pair of teenagers spotting his ice-cream truck from across the street. "What I want from you is to do what you did to my associate, but on other people. Think you can handle that?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not unless you want to live on the streets again. I'm running a professional scheme here and I can't have—" Ron coughed suddenly, not looking impressed and Roman glared. "What? Got something you want to share with the class, Stoppable?"
Years of Ron bad guy hunting and villain stopping came into play. "Well, now that you asked." Ron pretended not to hear Roman's scoff. "You say professional, but you're driving an ice-cream truck. Seriously, your disguise vehicle is an ice-cream truck? Ice-cream truck! Stop me when you catch my drift. Ice-cream truck! Ice. Cream. Truck."
Roman saw no problem. "Your point?"
"It's cliché." Ron deadpanned.
"It's a classic."
"That's just another way of saying cliché!"
"I thought English wasn't your subject?" Ron's expression actually hardened, hating how dumb some villains could be. This was one of the few things that made him angry, and no Master Criminal was going to tell him otherwise. Not now and most definitely not ever. Roman, on the other hand, was quite taken to his new friend's sudden mood change. A serious face Ron Stoppable had some bite. "Look... Ron... it was all Neo's idea!"
Ron turned to her, throwing his hands out toward the entire truck. "Was this your idea?" She nodded stubbornly, thinking of her traitorous friend. "Then you're cliché." Neo made stabbing motions at his stomach, but the sidekick had seen worse threats coming from freelance henchmen. "This disguise truck is terrible. Terrible!"
Resting on the steering wheel, Roman tapped his fingers on the leather. "Okay then, smart guy. If you're such an expert at the fine art of reconnaissance, then what's your ideal disguise vehicle be? I'm just dying to know."
Ron pretended to think it over before coating his words with sarcasm. "I don't know, something not too cliché like a mail truck. No one would think twice about stopping a mail truck or watching one. But you got kids following you around all day. Eventually, someone's gonna notice an ice-cream truck, oh, I don't know, not giving out ice-cream!"
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Ice-cream!" A cheerful voice screamed, banging repeatedly on the mini-side door. Another meeker voice joined him with a soft sigh. "Open up! I'm the ice-cream police and I've got to check and see if your ice-cream is up to code!"
Ron gestured his hands out toward the banging. "See! That would've never happened if you had a mail truck. No one, and I mean no one, cares about a mail truck. I know I don't."
Not wanting to admit that his new left-hand was indeed right, Roman checked the side mirrors and spotted a Faunus and some gloomy girl lounging at the side of the truck, one impatient and the other the opposite. It wasn't the sudden appearance of potential customers that threw him off, it was the fact Faunus have very good sight and memory, and Roman knew his face was plastered on many wanted posters around Vale. There was a good chance they've seen his mug here and there and watching an ice-cream truck suddenly take off would cause too much suspicion. Something the criminal mastermind definitely couldn't afford right now. Not while he was trying to keep Ron Stoppable here a secret from his backbreaking boss.
"Damn it!" Roman glared at the mirror before sliding down into his seat. Both Neo and Ron looked down at him, blinking at their boss's weird action. "Get rid of them. But don't draw any attention to yourselves!"
Neo and Ron look at each other and then the slide-in-wall with two totally different ideas. Neo's idea consisted of at least ten different law-breaking actions while Ron's was way more practical and more law-abiding—Yin and Yang essentially.
Throwing his head back, the sidekick sighed and plastered a fake smile before he jumped over to the back, reaching for his fishing rod and silently willing the device to transform into an ice-cream hat. He felt Neo's eyes focused entirely on him and even imagine the questions she had lined up, probably just dancing on the tip of her mute tongue, but for now, it was time to do what he did best, distract some potential customers.
Sliding the door open, he was greeted by a man whose abs were clear as day and blond hair even shinier than his own. He had a free tail swinging about like a monkey and a smile that looked like it hurt. Next to him was a girl who pretty much screamed out the exact opposite, dark and gloomy and probably wished to be anywhere but here.
Honestly, Ron knew exactly how she felt.
Thinking on the fly, he racked his brain for a clever lie. "I'm sorry. We just ran out of ice-cream. We were just heading back to the ice-cream place to get more."
"Aw, really?" The Monkey Faunus cried. "But I wanted a banana split!"
The other girl fixed him a cat-like glare. "Ice-cream place? You mean an ice-cream warehouse?"
Under interrogation, he was about to wing it, but the guy beat him to it. "So you don't have anything at all?"
The sidekick stared down at his leg, spotting the lone fish in his bucket swimming in circles. Poor thing was going to be supper anyways. So why the hell not? Maybe they'd want it. "We have a fish."
Amazingly enough, the girl was the one to answer, apparently captured at the notion of a real fish. "I don't eat dead fish."
Pulling out the bucket with the poor, helpless fish inside, he held it out to her. "It's alive."
The bucket was out of his hands before he could stop her, and she was hugging the object close to her chest like he was planning on stealing it from her at any given moment. He almost felt sorry for the poor thing, the fish, not her, but her interrogating eyes have fallen to the poor, helpless prey swimming in never-ending circles. Ron even swore the fish trapped inside knew its Fate more than he did. Sad little thing was swimming faster in circles, thinking such an act will save its apparent tasty soul.
"We'll take it!"
She slapped some of the currency called lien into his hand and dragged the guy away with the bucket gripped firmly in her free hand. From any point-of-view, none of that made any sense to him, and Ron Stoppable had seen a lot of things in his life that made no sense to him. Hell! This whole world made no sense to him! What was next? Fairy tales were actually real?!
Sliding the door shut, Ron grabbed his ice-cream hat and sighed a breath of relief, glad that the crisis, whatever it was, was averted. When he turned around, he was met with Neo and Roman's piercing gaze settled deeply on his ice-cream hat. Well, it was mostly Neo's with her finger pointing, Roman was just following her point of direction that happened to be his hat. She was letting out a tiny hum, waiting for Ron to do something.
Figuring out what she was pointing at, Ron lazily tossed up the hat and it came back down as a sword, floating in the middle of ice-cream truck like such feats were everyday occurrences. Both of the criminals couldn't stop staring at him, and Ron checked his neck for any sign of bugs.
"What? What are you looking at? Is there something on my face?"
Sitting up, Roman slowly blinked alongside Neo. He was at a loss for words. "Kid, you've been holding back on me. Where'd you get a toy like that?"
Looking at his weapon, Ron grabbed the sword while it was floating. "What? The Lotus Blade? Sorry, that's a trade secret. This one is staying locked up in the Stoppable vault. But I can tell you this... its magic!" They didn't believe him from their accusing stares. "Really? You guys are living in a world where people have crazy, badical powers and freaky monsters, and a sword that can transform into anything is surprising you?"
He should know. Ron had seen some freakish people around Vale. That was one of the first lessons he learned in this strange world.
"It can transform into anything?"
Ron thought about it, tapping the steel of the blade on his head, free from worry of the sword cutting him. "Well, almost anything. I can't turn it into something overly dumb like a mountain, believe me, I've tried. But weapons and smaller objects are all possible." Ron balanced the sword over his shoulder before letting it float on its own. "It's my awesome weapon and mine alone! The Lotus Blade!"
Roman accepted the challenge. "Oh really? And what makes you think we won't just try and steal your sword for our own nefarious purposes?"
Ron actually laughed at them, using the sword to balance himself, much like Roman did with his cane. "It's personally connected to me! Me and me alone! So in other words, it's unstealable. Untouchable! Impossible! Mine." He pushed the blade into Neo's hand, giving her a smug smile. "Good ahead! Try and to take it. Try to do anything with it. I dare you."
Nervous at the sidekick's blatant and out-of-this-world challenge, Neo grabbed the sword and vanished out of there in a flash. He was momentarily stunned by her sudden light show and extremely impressive power before giving her a few seconds to get as far away as possible. He had questions about what that light was but bit his tongue. Then he was counting down from three before he snapped his fingers.
Roman couldn't keep the slight widening of his eyes as Ron summoned the sword back into his hand from thin air. The sidekick was then looking at the Master Criminal.
"Watch and learn!" The sword then transformed into a blue ball and Ron chucked it out the window of the truck. He held his hand out seconds later and the ball re-materializes back into his hand. "See? Can't be stolen! Impossible to lose! We're a package deal. I rest my case."
Eyeing the magical blade, Roman calmly rested on the backseat with his arms dangling from the top, narrowing his visible eye. "If you've always had a weapon like that this entire time, then why haven't you pulled off some major heist or something to get by? Why fish and live on the streets for scraps? All I see here are possibilities and wasted talent. And that's the worst thing to waste in this world."
Losing his smile, Ron sighed. "Because that would be wrong... and I prefer to use my hands... freaky magic isn't exactly my favorite subject."
"Like English?"
"Must you rain on my parade?"
"I'm a criminal; I'm customarily bound to rain on your parade." Roman grumbled and took off his hat. "Wait, wait! We're getting off track here. Back to the dumb matter on hand, that Semblance of your is pretty darn—!"
"Semblance?" Ron blinked, scratching his hair with the hilt of his sword. "What the heck is a Semblance?"
The criminal glared. "This is no time for jokes, Ron." Ron blinked again, further scratching his head. "It's the power that comes from Aura?" Nothing. "Will you stop with the jokes already?"
"Really... I'm not joking!" Ron cried, looking at the Lotus Blade that hovered over his shoulder now. "Do you know what Aura is, Lotus Blade?"
The magical sword shook in a no gesture; hovering suspiciously toward Roman like Ron was doing, waiting for an answer. Curiosity gripped both the fools and it took the Master Criminal a second to process the information, wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into. Who the hell did he pull off the streets? How could someone in this world not know what Aura was?
It was maddening.
"You seriously don't know what Aura is?" Ron shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. That only left more questions than answers. "Then what the hell is this all about?"
Ron pointed his sword at the thief. "I told you already, it's freaky ninja magic! The sword uses Mystical Monkey Powers to work and I have those powers."
Freaky ninja magic? Mystical Monkey Powers? Roman wanted to question him, but he was interrupted by Neo's reappearance into the ice-cream truck, staring wide-eyed at the sword hovering playfully over the kid's shoulder. Like the idea of it being in her hands one second and then gone the next was utterly mind-blowing to the mute. Ironically enough, that was how most people must felt after meeting her.
Distracted, she then looked at her boss, who seemed to be close to a mental breakdown before finally calming himself with a slow breathing remedy. She almost poked at his anger, finding the emotion fun to mess around with, but stopped herself. Now wasn't the time for such games. She had plenty of opportunities later to push Roman's unguarded buttons.
Pushing away the impossible questions, Roman decided to give Ron the benefit of the doubt, especially since the idea of losing a sword and power like that for the criminal was too great of a possibility. So he humored Ron, planning on later to fill Neo on all the stuff she'd missed. Still, it was bad business to have one of his hands without Aura. If what Ron was saying turned out to be true, then giving the kid Aura could only help both of them in the long-run.
Jumping over the seat, Roman pulled his sleeves in, aiming to test his questionable tale. "Matters and jokes aside, I can't have my new left-hand recruit Auraless, it's bad for business. Stay still kid. This will only take a moment." Resting his hand on top of his messy hair, Roman concentrated. "Death and life intertwine as one, rise from the ashes and seek out retribution in a timeless pursuit without an end. Liberated from Destiny's grasp and free from Fate's judgment, I free your soul, and by my hand, release thee."
Neo blinked in awe as both Ron and the Lotus Blade got covered in a shade of sapphire that brightened up the truck. Somewhere in the background, she heard the distinct calls of many monkeys before the sound melted away and she was left pondering over many questions to ask Roman, but knew now wasn't the time to ask. Not to say Roman had all the answers. Far from it. If anything, he was even more confused than she was, considering he was banking on the idea of Ron possibly lying to him about not knowing what Aura was.
Now that idea was useless.
When it was all said and done, Ron was left standing there, feeling totally different. His chest felt lighter, arms felt stronger, legs more adapt, ears and eyes acuter, and a part of his soul, he never knew was empty, had been filled. Pieces of a deformed puzzle began to fix themselves before a picture revealed itself in the form of a blue energy that hugged Ron and the Lotus Blade impossibly tight. Then the power was gone, back into the depths of his soul, alongside his other powers.
Roman had to catch his breath. "Huh? You really weren't lying? Well, ain't that something."
"Told ya! Different world here."
The criminal ignored that. "So, Stoppable, how does the power feel? Feel good?"
Ron wiggled his arms, confused. "I don't know? The same I guess. Maybe. Nothing's exploding, so that's good. My head is still screwed onto my head, so no worries there. My face doesn't feel like it's going to melt off."
Roman flicked him on the forehead. "You're a weird kid, but you're kind of growing on me."
Grinning at the man, Ron poked him with the hilt of his sword. "I've been told that."
Smirking, the thief jumped over to start the truck. "We'll test out the limits of your Aura back at our hideout."
"You still haven't told me what Aura is yet?"
He hummed. "Wow, you're really sticking to that story, aren't ya?"
"It's the only story I got and I'm sticking to it." Ron grinned easily at him, transforming the Lotus Blade into a pair of sapphire shades. "If it's not broken, don't fix it." Fair enough, Roman knew a thing or two about always sticking to the story.
"Alright then. I'll humor you. Aura is the manifestation of your soul or some crap the corporate fatheads are always spewing. Personally, I think it's a little farfetched, but I can't argue with the results. Putting it simply, it's like a force that makes you tougher, plus it throws in a random skill once you've mastered far enough. That's what we call your Semblance."
"So? It's like a superpower?"
"That's one way of saying it." Roman tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. His eyes lazily roamed over the sidekick's body. "So, since we're on the damn subject of powers and blah, blah, blah, do you have any experience with other things than pickpocketing? Like maybe fighting?"
Ron thought back to his ninja training and his years of sidekick experience, he was then thinking about everything else entirely. "Plenty! I've trained as a ninja and I'm a great spy if I do say so myself. No hideout is safe from me. You'll see."
Based on his tone, Roman knew Ron wasn't joking around. Damn that honest face of his. He was having the hardest time deciphering the kid. He was almost like a damn puzzle. Roman knew what the picture was, but he couldn't seem for the life of him put the pieces together.
"One day you're gonna have to tell me more about your past."
Ron jumped over to join Neo and Roman in the front, shrugging his shoulders easily. That grin of his grew as he waved one hand disarmingly. "I already told you about my past, it's not my fault you don't believe me."
Starting the engine, Roman narrowed his eyes cautiously, not too sure whether or not Ron Stoppable was being absolutely serious. His backstory had clearly been a lie. Different universes? Different planets? Ha! That was completely insane, wasn't it? Everything Roman knew from experience pointed to the clear no. Yet, so far, everything Roman learned in the past few minutes proved to be completely unreal. Honestly, a guy with no transcripts of anything in this day and age? Where the hell did that come from? Then there was the sword and him not having Aura. To top it off, he'd never heard of this Stoppable surname before. Experience only moved a person so far before their last option was to jump into the pit of unknown and hope for the best.
"Humor me then." Roman played, driving toward their hideout. "If you're really some crime fighter from a different dimension, then why not go straight to Vale's authorities and explain your situation? Sounds like something a goody-goody hero would do."
Ron remained silent for a moment, almost hating the question. "I did. They called me crazy and kicked me out. I've been on the streets ever since." The Master Criminal figured something like that would happen, but it only strengthened his theory that the law could use some remodeling.
Still, pointing out Vale's lousy justice system aside, Roman needed to know. "And let me guess, heroes don't steal. So even with that amazing and kind of unfair weapon of yours, you still chose to live on the streets than rob some poor chumps? Am I within the ballpark? Do tell."
Roman felt Neo's eyes on him from the reflection of the windshield, probably wondering why he was humoring Ron Stoppable's joke from before, and the answer he came up with was he didn't know why. Maybe it was because he'd seen a lot of things in this world, too many things that science and logic had no place in. If he wasn't lying to himself, he didn't quite believe in the notion of impossibility. Not entirely. Not in a Grimm-filled world. Maybe it was because some slither of emotion inside of him believed in Ron's ludicrous story.
One of the two.
"Pretty much." Ron kicked his feet back, resting the Lotus Blade on his lap. "It's been a month and I'm tired of sleeping outside. Besides, I can't call exactly call myself a crime fighter anymore. Kind of lacking the part where I fight crime."
Feeling the air shift toward a depressing atmosphere, Roman patted the kid on the back, knowing full well that every man had their limits. Eventually, they all fall into a rut and must either commit a crime to escape or worse. Luckily for Ron, crime got to him before the alternative could. Be such a shame to lose hands like his. Even a bigger shame to lose his weapon. And if Roman was being honest with himself—truthfully deceitful—he could use a person who could see the obvious problems. Not to say Roman thought Ron was up for the job, but the kid had proven his knowledge in the field of villainy with their ice-cream truck of theirs.
Which meant one of two scenarios.
Either he got lucky and looked smart for a good minute, or that crime-fighting nonsense of his checked-out. Which also meant little Ronnie here could spot the flaws in a plan like it was second nature to him because he'd seen them all before, or at least a variant of them, and knew where to hit and improve them like breathing. And knowledge—as cliché as it sounded—really was power. Far greater power than any weapon or skill could ever be. There was a reason schools taught bratty kids that brawn always lost to knowledge. For all intents and purposes, it was damn true.
Every single word of it.
Shutting away that idea, for now, Roman made sure to test Ron on his knowledge for all things villainy another time. Now they head to the hideout and plan their next move. Changing the current direction they were heading, Roman dropped the subject for now. No point in depressing his new friend out.
"So... you have a sword that can turn into anything you can imagine?" The sidekick nodded and Roman gripped the steering wheel tightly, unable to stop the evil smile blossoming on his face. "Do you know what this means, Neo?" She made a few hand gestures. "No, well yes, but the game has changed. Stealing's going to be a whole lot easier now. And our targets have just quadrupled in size, but not only that, I think we stand an actual chance of getting out of Cinder's thumb."
Neo stared at him for a cold minute, letting the seconds tick by and Roman huffed. "Yeah, I know it's a gamble, and gambling is a sucker's game, but I'm feeling lucky. Besides..." he gripped the steering wheel harder. "I'm tired of playing second fiddle."
Neo saw the spark in her friend's eyes for the first time in a long time and slowly nodded her head, small smile truly genuine. It was a gamble—an enormous risk—one that could cost them everything, and she meant everything, but she'd never known Roman to like taking orders from anyone. And she'd also never known Roman to not have a few aces up his sleeve.
He was right, gambling was a sucker's game, but when someone had the power to change the dice to whatever they so pleased, you played until the place was dried. They were thieves, not gamblers. They didn't play fair, they cheated, and Ron Stoppable might be the loaded dice they need in order to win and clean out Club Cinder. Sure, they might be found out and caught, but that was what thieves and criminals did. Living dangerously came with the territory. It was the occupational hazard of the game. And Neo could always get them out of there if the situation ever escalated too high. Ron looked resilient enough. She could even bet he knew how to run.
Reaching their hideout, Roman parked the ice-cream truck, noting to find a mail truck like Ron said. He was right; an ice-cream truck was nothing but trouble. Almost got him caught, blasted thing. Having a person who saw the flaws in plans could definitely be beneficial to his operations. Yet, that was only the tip of the iceberg. So many possibilities were running through the Master Criminal's head, possibilities he didn't think were ever possible. Almost like the notion of impossibility got beaten up and thrown into a riverbank.
For the first time in a long time, he felt like nothing was impossible!
Life was a game! Why play fair?!
It was time to turn this bag of lemons into a batch of sweet lemonade. "I have a whole new proposition for you, Ron. I'll stick to your terms, you won't be fighting or hurting any innocent people as long as I can help it, but you gotta help me, and my associate here, escape our little predicament."
Ron thought it over, having heard the conversation prior. "Why don't you just run if you hate this Cinder person? Running always works for me."
"I would, but sadly enough, she's faster and trickier than Neo or me." Roman sighed, regaining his vigor a moment later. "But with your skills and that sword on my side, we might be able to win and stick it to her!" Getting out of the vehicle, Roman extended his hand out. "What'd you say, Stoppable? Help me beat my boss, and when the time comes, we'll part ways. I'll even throw in your own personal fake documents of authentication so you could go make an honest living after. Trust me, they'll work."
Ron looked down at Roman and then Neo, seeing an opportunity to finally survive in this unforgiving world. A chance to make it. A chance to find something worth fighting for. He smiled his first natural smile since getting stuck in Remnant.
"I say... what's the four-one-one on that meal you owe me?"
Author Notes: Edited - 6/6/2018