AN: OMIGOSH! A story fo mine that's not SU based? It happens once in a blue moon. For those that this is their first meet with one of my works check out my other one's based in the Steven Universe Fandom. I'd say they're pretty good. I have more of these coming and this plans to be a larger series. So be sure to follow if you want to stay up to date.

NAVY'S P.O.V

Humming to myself I walk myself down the Atlas roads. The nights late and the stars are out. There's a strong chill to the air out aside. But it's the chilled air of atlas that makes it what I call home. Turning my head it's fairly easy to actually see Atlas academy. It stands high above all else. I used to got to school there, for a time, left before I even finished my first year there. Unlike every other drop out I didn't just head back outside the walls. Instead I found myself a job, just as entertaining as any hunters, but definitely not anywhere as legal.

The name's Navy. 15, navy blue hair and emerald green eyes along with an award winning a smile. My job has a uniform but it looks like rubbish. I much rather prefer wearing things from my own closet. The navy blue shirt I wear long with the black cargo pants that are tucked beneath the combat boots. Make me one of the more… refined individuals you'll find here. I wear combat boots because running is quite hard to do in dress shoes sadly. My skins definitely a bit pale; you can thank the white Atlas sun for that.

Clunking iron feet signal one of those Atlas sentry bots doing patrol. With amusement, I take advantage of one little design flaw. At the back of the head above the nape of the neck is a complete blind spot for them. With a backhand reinforced with aura, I send it to the ground. I take a few pieces of scrap and the clip it had in its gun, continuing on my way. Eventually, I reach my place of work. A simple wooden workshop. The place always reeks of sawdust, but that's just to cover up the smell of something else.

Fishing for a key I unlock the door to the solemn place. The smell of wood pulp hitting me like a crashing wave," no matter how many times that happens it never ceases to be any less disgusting," I admonish.

Though the workshop is just where money laundering plays out. I work here from time to time, but my main jobs behind the "Employes Only" back door. It isn't really employees only. Patrons can get down there, but it requires something special. A small pin of a suit diamonds required to get in. Normally we have someone manning the door but were not open just quite yet. We still have some stuff to get. The stairs wind down and down reaching deeper into the crust of Remnant until revealing a circular enclave carved into the earth. At the center is a small circular pub with plenty of alcohol. Tables and bar stools sit around the floor. A few balconies for private groups and in the far corner overlooking this entire place is the main office. This place is the Bleeding Heart. The very epitome of the criminal underground in Atlas and a prominent one in Remnant altogether.

"Howdy," I greet throwing open the door to the office.

The office looks marginally better than the outside. With carpeted floors a rug leading to a desk, holo screens in front of him which I pushed to the side once he sees me, and on the side shelves of products on them and other mementos from my bosses excursions. "You're late," my boss scolds.

His name is Ebony earned from his dark black hair and piercing black eyes. He constantly wears a black suit with a gray shirt underneath. At his side is a large serrated cleaver. The blade large enough to cover the hand and a rifle was hidden in the hilt. It's an odd weapon, but all hunter weapons are odd. The simple fact that he carries something like it on him is intimidating enough discounting the fact that he was one of Atlas's hunters.

"Relax. I came across a sentry. Stole some stuff from it," I tell him taking out the memory cards I stole from the droid.

"Not bad, but get here on time. We're opening soon and if we don't have what we need, profits suffer."

"I get it, so where's Ivory and little redsy?"

"Garage.

I groan," that's a walk."

"Just go and get the stuff!"

"But it's-"

I swiftly stop talking and dodge a knife aimed at my head," just get the damn stuff!"

"Okay! Okay," I lament, holding my hands up in surrender. "Pushy bastard. Next time take your stress out on your next 'session' with ivory."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh don't play ignorant. I can hear every grunt you two make." He immediately responds with a death look, "Get the hell out of my sight."

Bidding him adieu I head back up through the workshop. Taking a sharp left and behind the store are quite the number of garages. But, it's really just a storage unit we have. Its normally locked behind a lightning wall which zaps whatever gets close to it painfully, a new type of atlas tech, but it's been turned vehicles a modified dune buggy from Vacuo. It's treads were meant for sand, but work just as well on snow. We upped it's engine with one from a smaller airship. The only other thing we did was add plenty of secret compartments for getting things past borders, walls and any huntsman.

In the car waiting for me is someone my age. Deep red hair kept short and a matching set of red eyes. I always see him wearing a red and black jacket with a collar and black pants. His skin is tan, from Vacou most definitely. In height, he's shorter than me by at least two inches. His name is Rouge although he didn't tell me that. He rarely ever speaks for that fact. Constantly communicating with his hands and through any other means, he can find. I can't tell what he's saying, but apparently, it's taught to those that go to Atlas academy because Ebony and Ivory have no issue on communication, He's not that bad all in all, a bit ruthless for my taste, but to each their own. The one thing that does bother me though is that whenever you're near him you can't help but notice the thick smell of blood that lingers around him.

Working on the car is an older woman around the same age as Ebony. Her name is Ivory. Ebony's assistant and financial manager of this place. Her hair's white blonde. Skin vibrant and smooth. Lips a piercing red that stands out amongst the cold white of Atlas. She wears a white coat with a fur trimmed hood and white pants. Her boots white with golden buckles. Side by side her and Ivory make the perfect contrast of two colors.

"Howdy," I greet.

"Ah, Navy. You're just in time," the silky voice of Ivory amends. Out of everyone I work with, she's by far the most inviting.

"Really, Ebony told me I was late."

Rouge swings his hands through the air. Obviously intent on saying something, "you should know that I have no idea what that means."

I turn around with the dramatic flair of someone on stage,"someone gives me a hat," I call out.

Sure enough Ivory throws me boater hat and I roll it from one arm to the other as I begin to recite a poem off the top of my head," sing to me a sweet song of bliss and glee. A tale of adventure without measure, a tale of endless pleasure. The sun breaks through the clouds shedding away the night, bringing all the light. And behold as things turn warmer as spring turns to summer." I finish my poem with putting the hat on my head with a dignified look.

"No Rouge, don't bludgeon him with the wrench," I turn around to see the shortstop looming over me with a wrench in hand raised high. He listens to Ivory and puts it down and gets in the car.

"Someone's not a fan of the arts."

He sticks his hand to the side and waves them around," he said he is, he's just a fan of arts that aren't crap," Ivory interprets.

"..sounds like someone's just jealous," I quickly duck underneath the wrench hurled at my head.

"Fine. Fine. I'll hurry up."

The low rumble of the car echoes on through the streets. The best thing about this is that the dune buggy has no real doors or anything letting the warm summer air blow freely. I drive with one hand outside, Rouge is in the passenger seat arms crossed. Of course, he's thinking. Though I can never tell what he's thinking. He's always so reserved and closed off.

"Don't you just love the warm summer air," I ask him trying to make some small talk.

He taps something into his scroll and shows it to me," it's only 60 degrees out? Yeah, I know. Balmy outside, right?"

"Oh right. You are from the dessert kingdom Vacuo aren't you?"

"How'd you end up here? Vacuo is a long way from here, I know Vacuo isn't in the best of spots, but you'd, we'd thrive there, so why'd you leave? It would have been a smarter choice to go to stay in Vacuo or even go to Mistral, but Atlas? The military kingdom? Why?"

"It matters not, for that is the past, gone and over left in ash." Finally, I get him to speak. In rhyme no less. His vice has always stuck out for being so... monotone. Emotions buried in it.

"You act with haste, remembering the past, remember the mistakes, otherwise the haste will make waste."

"I have not forgotten, I just don't dwell. That I learned. From the ashes I came and to ashes I'll return."

"But, to why are we speaking so bleak? Let's salute not to the past or to the future. But to days present. Enjoying the now, enjoying what we have."

"Side by side through the good and the bad."

"We'll be here. Smuggling things no matter where we go-"

"WATCH THE ROAD!"

I floor the brakes, the car screeching to a stop on the fork in the road. Rouge gives me a cold glare as we continue on our way. Careful to avoid any Atlassian knights or military officials. It's not every day you see two teenagers driving through Atlas streets late at night. Slowly ebbing towards the borders of the city and the frozen tundra outside. Bringing the car near the docks. The freezing ocean making a fantastic way to get rid of stuff if things go sour. Be it products or corpses. The place has a more than normal amount of students, knights and even fully fledged hunters patrolling around here. Yet, that just might be Atlas's biggest mistake.

"You stay here and watch. I'll go get the dust." Rouge nods sitting on the hood of the car but watching me from a distance.

The place my scroll says to meet them is on a ship called "Highwind". The hull is that famous clean Atlassian white. Other than that it's your typical advanced military ship. These have been lessened since the airships became a thing, sad because I rather like the sea. Much rather be there than in the skies. I lean on the railing waiting for whoever is the supplier this time to show up. In the dark waters below I can almost make out something moving. Not my problem, though.

"Are you the one's with-"

"Bleeding Heart? Yes." Out the corner of my eye I can see that the suppliers are both Atlas students from their uniforms. I hold out a thumbs up into the air to Rouge who I can't even see in the inky blackness.

"Whatever he's what you asked for," they hold out two silver suitcases and a duffle bag.

I reach out for them only to have them yank them back," where's the money?"

I roll my eyes tired of this. They may be Atlas students, but so was I. I could just toss them both overboard and take it, but I'm not risking that with military grade dust anywhere nearby. "Wait. Give me the bags first. I want to at least make sure I get what we've came for."

"C'mon we're burning moonlight here," I urge.

The toss me of the brief cases and the bag," no need to hold the other case hostage. If you have what I need, you'll get what you need," sure enough they were right. In the case is crystallized dust of varying types and the bag is filled with air tight bags of the powdered form.

"You did as tell, so go on," I tell them exchanging the money with them.

Right, when I'm about to give Rouge the thumbs up again things immediately take a downturn. I pull my hand down when something jumps out the water aiming for it. "My fingers not a goddamn lure," I murmur to myself.

I immediately turn my eyes to the dust. This isn't dust you can just buy in stores. It's stuff Atlas has refined the stuff itself. It's volatile as all hell. The fish makes one more lurch at us. But, I'm not any average smuggler. Or former Atlas student. I take off the hat Ivory gave me and from the rim of the hat I pull out a small razor blade. Stepping to the side I grab onto it and force it to the deck of the ship taking the small razor and slitting the fish's throat. It disappears in a mass of black particles like all Grimm do. I know this type form my days of doing patrol. Where there's one there's ninety-nine to come with it.

More quickly begin to lurch from the water. The ship shakes as they tear through the bottom hull," no. no. no. no!"

I take the dust and begin to run. Sliding under the grimm leaping out of the water. Jumping from the hull back onto solid land. Zipping up the duffle bag… oh shit. A bag of crimson dust has been left on the ship. The two Atlas hunters begin to run trying to follow my lead. Running off the deck, but in the dark, they can't even see their own two feet. Stepping right on the bag of dust. I shield myself from the cacophony of destruction.

Flames engulf the surroundings. Burning hot enough to burn concrete and leave ships ablaze. And apply our chances of doing this smoothly goes right up in smoke. I hold unnecessary thumbs down to Rouge. Stretching as I'm encircled by Atlas robots. And a hunter or two. Shame. Any other time I would at least try to enjoy the workout, but I'm so crunched for time. Aura cast I ready myself for a fight.