Signs And Portents
One did not live as long as Roman Torchwick had in the underworld without getting at least a rudimentary sort of intelligence network, and his was far from rudimentary. He may have been a small-time thief, but that was how he liked it. He had the freedom to do as he pleased, robbing, stealing, and worse, while not causing quite enough damage for him to be actively hunted down as a threat to life and property, if not scouted out for larger criminal organizations, such as the Vacuo Mafia. They had tried, and nearly made him an irrefusable offer, but thanks to his partner-in-crime, literally, he was able to get out of dodge in time.
Even now, his greatest regret was that he had been so completely blindsided by Cinder. All he had wanted were a few laughs, a little mayhem, and maybe to retire in another forty years to spend the twilight of his life sipping too-expensive fruity drinks with his ill-gotten gains… while scamming beachgoers and robbing people. Hey, you had to have fun, right?
His alliance with Cinder was one made not of choice, but of necessity- namely, the necessity of him not being brutally murdered with fire and glass. As a result, he was dragged ever-deeper into a web of conspiracy, where Cinder managed to play him, Neo, and even the White Friggin' Fang like puppets in her grand game.
"I'm telling you," he said one day to his closest friend and confidant, "I don't get it. The Breach was a massive failure. Everyone is on guard now, those animals lost about a hundred guys, and they're less popular than ever!"
Neo nodded sagely as she daintily dipped her spoon into her frozen yogurt. As she put the spoon into her mouth, she raised a single delicate eyebrow.
"Yeah, good point, and how much did those robots cost anyway? This whole thing cost a fortune. There is literally no way that this ended well from any standpoint, unless she-" he jerked his head towards her office at the opposite end of the warehouse, "just gets off on watching us fail."
Neo inclined her head to accept the point, before waving one hand in the air.
"PR? We're terrorists, what do we care about-? Oh, right, the whole 'our evil scheme was taken down by four children,' thing. Yeah, we look so big and bad after that, huh?" Roman shook his head before drawing his hat a little further down over his eyes. "Remember when the worst we had to worry about was the cops? None of this 'fighting Hunters' shit that she's got us doing."
"You'd do well to remember that you'd be in prison if not for the 'Shit she's got you doing,'" announced an icy voice from behind him. Roman rolled his eyes as he stood up, towering over the green-haired lieutenant.
"Oooh," he waved his hands in front of Emerald, who shot him a glare that could have frozen lava, "Prison. I'm so scared. There's no way I could have broken out of a five-by-five cell guarded by rent-a-cops. Truly, I would be undone if that was to happen!" he affected a voice mimicking horror while Neo giggled, having set down her frozen yogurt while idly playing with her umbrella. "I mean, it's not like I broke out of General Ironwood's flagship- by myself, may I add- with no help from your precious boss." He folded his arms across his chest. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure that Police HQ could hold me for a good thirty seconds."
"You have no idea what she has planned," she snarled.
"Yeah, see, that's one of the big problems of this whole thing," he groused, "I don't know anything, despite putting my men," he gestured back to Neo, who gave a jaunty wave, "My friend, and most importantly, my ass on the line for it. And I seem to have gotten in return…" he tugged on his sleeve, "Oh, that's right, nothing!"
"Oh, now that's not quite true," a voice from behind him spoke, sounding like warm, cyanide-infused honey. "You get to live. A prize that many of your cohorts in the underground didn't get to have…"
Roman paused for a moment before asking, "What is it with you people and sneaking up behind people to talk? Is there a school for that?" He spun around and pointed at Neo, whose stance had shifted slightly. Still loose, but ready for action. "Neo, check to see if there is a school for that. I'm gonna need to be enrolled in that ASAP."
Cinder Fall smirked, though it didn't quite reach her eyes as Emerald, a brief flash of adoration adorning her face, walked over to her side. "I was unaware you and your associates were unaware of the current working relationship," she rolled each word deliberately in her mouth, as if picking them with intense care. "If you don't like me as much as you claim, we could always… renegotiate."
Roman's blood turned to ice as Mercury Black flanked his boss opposite Cinder. "I don't think so; I saw how you 'renegotiated' that deal with Junior for the info he gave Blondie." He was forced to repress a shudder at the memory.
The whole neighborhood had smelled like burnt meat for a week.
"That's so good to hear," she purred throatily as she stepped deep into Roman's comfort zone, and behind him he sensed Neo tense up. "Because our working relationship is so good…" at this she began to trail her finger down his jacket, leaving smoldering fabric in its wake. Roman had to beat down the urge to push her away; that would be a death sentence at this point. "I'd hate to have to… cut it loose."
"I understand," he growled, making Mercury quirk a single eyebrow and Emerald's glare to increase in magnitude.
"Perfect," Cinder said, patting his shoulder before turning back, her two flunkies following her as she strode out of the building.
As soon as they turned the corner, Roman frantically began to beat at his smoldering, ruined jacket. Neo sped into the same position that Cinder had just moments earlier occupied, throwing a glass of water at the burnt spot. That done, he shucked the now-ruined clothes and stalked towards the other exit.
Neo let out a silent, wordless snarl as they left.
"I know," he said, smoldering rage filling his every thought, gripping his cane until his knuckles went white, "I hate her too."
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It was a week later when Roman's network began to pass rumors to him of a strange man. Well-dressed in a black suit, strolling into areas that he had no business being, and utterly fearless. One of his contact's friends had tried to mug the man, and had gotten away with a wallet and a pocketwatch.
The friend turned up dead of massive cerebral hemorrhaging the next day, and the stranger was spotted swinging the watch to and fro the day after that.
The strangest thing, from Roman's perspective, was that although the Stranger was always alone, people who stood in his presence reported strange things happening around him. Odd hissing noises not connected to the stranger himself. Scratches in the floor that looked like they had come from an Ursa's claws in his passing. The most consistent thing, though, was a pervasive sense of terror that seemed to cling to the stranger like a cloak, yet he did not feel- as if it was a beloved pet to him, and could not dream of hurting its friend.
For a month and a half, the rumors came. He resisted any attempt at following him, they said. He could appear and disappear at will. He could fight an army of Deathstalkers single-handedly.
Rumors were thick about him, but what was known for fact about him was that he was targeting the biggest movers and the shakers of the city, and not just the underground. One contact in Beacon had even reported that he had been seen leaving Ozpin's office, looking distinctly unhappy.
Then the rumors stopped.
And then he came.
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"Excuse me, sir, but the gentleman there would like to buy you a drink."
Roman was battered and bruised after another fight with that red-hooded brat, but had managed to drag himself down to the local pub. It wasn't much, just a hole in the wall that served warm, watery beer, but it was what he needed.
At the Bartender's words, though, he snapped to full alertness, eyes scanning the grubby inhabitants for potential threats.
And there he sat.
Hair slightly greasy, but otherwise in perfect condition. Charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Dark suit immaculate, not a hint of dust anywhere near him. An invisible bubble that the other bar hoppers studiously avoided around him.
The mysterious stranger had finally sought him out.
Roman hesitated. On one hand, if the rumors were true, this man was just as dangerous as Cinder. Horrible things could happen to him at this man's hands, and he could do nothing about it.
On the other, that was a really nice suit, and he hadn't found many people in Vale's underground who could truly appreciate fine fashion sense…
Roman found himself next to the stranger, lifting a mug of beer to his.
Damn my love of fashion…!
"So I've heard a few things about you."
"And I you."
"And the first thing I must know is…"
"Yes?"
"Who does your clothes?"
The stranger stared at Roman for a moment before the two of them dissolved into chuckles.
"Oh, my," the stranger took a sip, "You don't know exactly how much I needed that." There was a brief pause. "It's been a while since anyone's managed to really surprise me, and I mean really surprise me."
Roman raised an eyebrow.
"So I offer to buy you a drink, and you have to know that I've been all over the place, asking all sorts of people things, and the first question on your mind isn't 'Why are you doing this,' or 'What's your name,' it's 'What's the name of your tailor.'"
Roman shrugged theatrically. "Yeh, well, as someone who appreciates good fashion sense, I like it when the people I deal with put in the little extra step. I mean, sure, business is business, but do we have to deal with such nightmares all the time?"
The stranger nodded into his drink. "You wouldn't believe some of the horror stories I could tell you."
Roman nodded. "So yeah, I appreciate a good suit. A man comes to do business in a suit, it says that hey, I've got money. I've got class. I might be willing to blow your head off, but I want you to know that I dressed up for it. I respect you enough that I'm not just gonna dump your body in a river, I'm gonna send you home to the wife and kids." At the stranger's raised eyebrow, he held up his hands. "Okay, or the husband and kids, I don't judge."
"But you do still dump the body in the river."
"Well, of course. The guy got blood on my suit! You know how hard that stuff is to get off? You get blood on the suit, you lose family privileges."
"Heh, good point."
"And hey- just lettin' you know, you came to me, in a suit, and bought me a drink. That says a lot. You respect me. You want to make a good impression… or you just think I look nice, in which case, sorry, buddy, I'm taken, but I'm flattered."
The stranger closed his eyes and shook his head, and for a moment Roman thought he heard a faint hissing noise, but it must have been his imagination.
"No, I'm afraid I'm… not really looking for companionship at this time."
Roman gulped down the last of his beer and tapped the bar for another. "Shame, you seem like a good guy. Got a distinct lack of guy friends at this time… most of 'em are trying to kill me in one way or another."
The stranger raised another eyebrow. "One of those working relationships, hm? Where they say 'do as you're told or we hurt you?'"
"Oh yeah. And the minute you're not valuable anymore?" Roman made a gory sound effect as he dragged a finger across his neck.
The stranger rolled his eyes. "And don't get me started about their idea of workplace safety. 'Do this,' 'Do that,' 'Don't worry about getting hurt, the mission is more important.' They have no concept of how hard it is to do what we do."
The hissing grew louder for a moment.
Roman cocked his head. "Do you hear that?"
The stranger looked confused. "Hear what?"
Roman waved his hand. "Nothing, sorry. Must be hearing things."
"Job stress getting to you?"
"Let's just say that my retirement plan is looking more and more like a round through the back of the head every day."
"Ouch."
"Hey, we didn't pick the life of crime for the safety."
"True, but it's exciting, isn't it? You must Want to be part of the life, or you wouldn't have chosen it."
"True. I do want it. It's just that right now, I can't even enjoy my own work. My new boss has taken out all the fun, all the joy in doing what I love."
"You mean beating people up, robbing people blind, and possibly murder."
"Well, when you put it like that I sound like a terrible person."
The stranger ran a finger around the edge of his now empty mug. "There are those who believe that that is the true way to live- the strong fighting to prove their dominance over the weak, each fight and struggle forcing the people to get stronger. What do you think?"
Roman stared at him for a moment, before breaking out in a big grin. "I think you're the first person to actually make a good drinking partner. You're just the right amount of pretentious and stylish for me. Hey, Barkeep! Another round for my friend!" he called as he started to pull on his coat.
The stranger raised an eyebrow. "Leaving so soon?"
Roman rolled his eyes. "The missus. 'Don't stay out too late.' 'Don't murder people without me.' 'Be back by nine or pay the consequences.' Usual stuff."
The stranger closed his eyes and nodded briefly, before adding "I was married, I know exactly how you feel."
Roman stretched before the barkeep set down a glass. "So, yeah, you're the first person I've met I'd actually like to go drinking with… next week, same time, same place?"
The stranger's face split in a wide grin. "Count on it."
As he walked out of the bar, it occurred to Roman that he had never gotten the man's name.
Meanwhile, the hissing that surrounded the stranger was intensifying.
"You must admit, he's the best candidate."
Hiss.
"I understand, but-"
Hiss.
"She leans too closely to their way of doing things."
Silence.
"If you wanted a mindless pawn, you would have made one. But you chose to have me like this instead. Let me talk to him a little more."
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It was a considerably more chipper Roman that entered the bar the next week, to find the Stranger already waiting for him.
"So what's new with you?" he asked, sliding some credits over to the Stranger for the drink that was waiting for him.
He shrugged. "Not much. I made a few inroads into getting an ambassador on board… I think he might be receptive to my associates, but he might take a show of good faith or two before he starts to trust them."
Roman quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? What kind of services?"
The Stranger waved. "Sorry, I signed a non-disclosure agreement. Can't discuss details outside of work."
"Ah, one of those. Pains in the ass, they are."
"Heh, like you wouldn't believe. Still, the power of vagueness can make people come up with more effective ideas than specific ones…"
"True, but look at my boss. All she does is make vague statements of how 'Everything is going according to plan,' and how 'things are on track.' Being vague can help- I was threatening this guy down at the docks the other day, and I let his imagination run wild on exactly what I would do to him if he didn't pay- but you gotta be willing to hand out at least a few details. Otherwise…" Roman fluttered his hand. "It's just smoke on the wind."
"You have to work in just the right amount of details," agreed the Stranger. "Saying bad things will happen if you don't do as you were told? Doesn't get anything done. Blow up their airship while they're not in it? That sends a message. 'We can hit you wherever you are unless you do what we say.'"
Roman nursed his beer before muttering. "Yeah, well, we can't all have perfect bosses."
The Stranger held out his hands, giving a beatific smile. "I'm just lucky, I guess."
The Stranger then nodded his head towards Roman once more. "And how are things on your end?"
"Well, we managed to intercept a Dust convoy… but then SHE came and took it all. Then she killed one of my best men for nearly lighting it off when he tripped."
"And you wouldn't have?"
"Put him in the hospital, sure. But killing? Come on, the man owed me money, and it's getting hard enough as is to find people who are loyal and won't knife you in the back for a lien." He raised his mug again. "And with Cindy around, that list is getting shorter every day. There's only a handful of the guys from the old days left anymore, everyone else are these White Fang assholes. I dunno how she keeps them in line, she's as human as you or I."
The Stranger chuckled as Roman continued. "I can't even remember the last time that we just went out and broke something for the sake of breaking something. No, everything is because of 'the plan.' We get a guy killed? 'The Plan.' We lose a million-lien warmech? 'The Plan.' Some kids decide to kick my teeth in? 'The Plan!' I lose half my liquid assets because we want to appease some fucking animals? 'PLAN!'"
He slammed down the glass hard enough for cracks to spread up the mug, causing the barkeep to glare at him. "I am so, FUCKING sick of her and her stupid PLAN! I'd like to get back to what we do best- go out and cause some CHAOS. Make money the way we were meant to- Taking it! I have power, you don't. That's the way it works."
At this point the Stranger had a wide grin on, when there was a buzzing noise from his pocket. Pulling out a scroll, he frowned and said, "Well, this has been fun, but something's come up. Last minute meeting, you understand."
Roman was seething, but was slowly calming down. "Yeah, sure, whatever."
The Stranger nodded. "I'll see you next week?"
Roman grunted.
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When they met at the bar a third time, Roman was already drunk.
"Th' f'ck do you want?"
"I Want many things, Roman," the Stranger placidly stated, "What happened?"
"I f'ked up," he groaned. "They were waiting for us. It was an ambush. They got us in a crossfire. More F'KING KIDS!" He roared, before holding his head and placing it against the cool wooden bar. "Only ten of us got out."
The Stranger took a seat next to him. "Ten? Out of-"
"Thirty."
He nodded his head thoughtfully. "So you saved a third-"
"I didn't save anyone but me and my girl. Cinder the fucking bitch decided that I needed a lesson in what happens when I screw up, so she sent her brats in."
"And I'm guessing that it-"
"They were good guys. They didn't deserve that."
A pause.
"So what are you going to do now?"
"That's a damn good question. If I don't keep working for her, she splatters me like Jimmy Bronzeshoes by her brats. If I do, there's a good chance I'll be splattered anyway, and I don't really want that."
"So…" the Stranger rolled the word in his mouth. "I guess the question you have to ask yourself now is…"
He leaned in.
"What do you Want?"
"What do I want?"
"Yes."
Roman began slowly, but then increased in power like a steam train.
"What I want… is to get my life back."
"And then what do you Want?"
"Then I want Cinder's HEAD in a box."
"And then what do you Want?"
"I want those brats of hers laying on the floor below me and I want to see the same fear in their eyes that I saw in my guys, right as I put my cane to their heads, and they know no help is coming for them."
"And then what do you Want?"
"I want to get my money, and get the hell out of Vale."
"And then what do you Want?"
"I am going to go to every city in the world. I'm going to loot, pillage, and destroy every single place that I come across. I am going to rebuild my group. I'm going to hunt down the Fang to the last and slaughter them all. I'm going to paint the town red with blood and fire. I am going to cause a reign of fucking TERROR across Remnant that hasn't been seen since the Color Revolution, because I am fucking DONE. THAT is what I want!"
Roman was once again heaving with rage.
The Stranger simply sat, staring contemplatively at the crook.
And then he smiled.
"Roman, be at your place in two days. My… associates and I have a proposition for you."
And then he strode out of the bar.
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Neo glared at Roman as he paced across their apartment. He glared at her.
"Look, I'm just waiting for a strange man who never told me his name who says he has associates who want to make a business proposition with me and has ties to the Underground. What's the big deal?" he blurted.
She raised a single eyebrow.
He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Okay, so it sounds bad when I put it like that. But the guy has a nice suit and bought me booze. Can you think of anyone who would double-cross someone who was like that?"
The eybrow creeped higher.
"Aside from me?"
The eyebrow could not get any higher without going into her hair.
"Well, sure, NOW this sounds like a stupid plan. Why don't you try to talk me out of these things sooner?"
Neo pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Hey, at least I wasn't staring at tits this time when I made this decision, I was just drunk." He looked up for a moment. "Huh, I really need to stop defending myself. I'm pretty bad at it."
His musing was interrupted by a knock at the door. Before either of them could move to open it, it opened on its own, letting the Stranger stroll into the room, carrying a small cardboard box. A faint murmuring could be heard out in the dingy hall just outside, but it was quickly drowned out by a soft shriek that sent shivers down the backbones of Neo and Roman.
Following the stranger came a scuttling sound, and tiny holes began to appear in the walls, no bigger than the heads of pins. Neo leapt up from her seat and grabbed Roman's arm, trying to pull him away, but Roman stood his ground, tightening his grip on his cane.
"Ah, Roman. It's so good to see you again. And sober this time, too," greeted the Stranger enthusiastically. "And this must be the lovely Neo? You truly have not done her justice, Roman."
Neo's glare intensified as she hid behind Roman's back, staring at something just to the left of the Stranger.
"Okay, so I'm here. What do you want?"
The stranger chuckled, and a hiss- this time Roman realized that he was not imagining it- emanated from the spot Neo was staring at.
"She can see through the cloak. Interesting," mused the stranger, gazing contemplatively at Neo. He then shook himself and announced, "I'm here, Roman, to introduce you to my associates. They have a proposition for you."
And with that, a black thing crafted from the nightmares of civilizations long dead melted into reality. Roman was familiar with people decloaking themselves, but this was an entirely different level of mastery than Neo was capable of. And what came out was not a lovely young woman so easily capable of violence, but oh god what is that. It looked like what someone would make if they were told to cross breed a spider, a centaur, and a knife factory. A black exoskeleton ran over the thing like a lovingly crafted suit of armor, terminating in wickedly sharp points that light itself seemed to slide off of, as if afraid of being nearby. It moved the horrible outcropping of skin and armor at its top and opened its bright, glowing eyes eyes eyes too many eyes they see the soul and burn away joy flee flee flee!
Roman stumbled back, nearly knocking over Neo, who at this point was paler than a Schnee in the arctic.
"Th-th-the FUCK IS THIS?!" he cried, never taking his eyes off of the threat threat threat!
"This?" asked the stranger calmly, seemingly amused by his reaction, "This is one of my associates. There are more. They wanted to see you. They have heard so much about you… about what you Want… and they were impressed. It's not often that they get to see such… desire… in what they term a low-level life form."
"Tell 'em I'm impressed I don't want the job I'm just fine with Cinder."
The Stranger shook his head pityingly. "Ah yes, that little detail. I'm so glad they removed it from me… someone tampered with people long ago, so that the very appearance of my Associates creates a sensation of intense terror in all who view them. That "someone" and my associates didn't get along."
"I can understand why." Roman gulped as sweat dripped into his eyes, every instinct telling him to flee as far and as fast as he possibly could.
"They think that your plans have merit. As such, they have provided two gifts for you, free of charge, as an incentive to taking them up on their offer. A… carrot and stick approach, I think it's called? I wasn't a diplomat before I signed on with them," he sighed.
Despite himself, Roman was intrigued. "Gifts?" he asked.
The oh god it's coming towards me help help help advanced, holding… a notebook? Roman reached out and gingerly plucked the book from its claws as it scuttled back to the Stranger's side.
"That," stated the Stranger as Roman thumbed through the book, "Is a list of Bank Numbers, as well as ledgers, account information, and more, from such a wide variety of groups as the Schnee Dust Corporation to the White Fang."
Roman froze, before gently closing the book and handing it off to Neo.
"That's a lot for just a simple gift."
"My associates want it clear that we will fully support your endeavors to cause as much chaos as possible, and the resources we can bring to bear to help you. They're…" the ohthankgod it's no longer looking at me was facing the Stranger and hissing. "Enthusiastic, about the way that chaos spreads itself through human and faunus societies, and think that your plan will cause plenty of it."
Roman thought for a moment about all he could do with that money.
"Okay, you said you had two gifts, a carrot and a stick. What's the stick?"
"It's more of a two-part carrot-and-stick sandwich, with the carrot on the ends and the stick in the middle. This," he gestured with the box, "Is the stick."
Roman stepped forward lightly before he darted back to the couch, far away from the its looking at me again no no no before he slipped a finger under the lid and pried it open…
To reveal a pair of horror-struck golden eyes in a pale face.
"SONOVABITCH!" Roman roared as he dropped the box, Cinder Falls' head bouncing out and landing face-up, mouth wide in a silent scream, eyes forever staring at whatever it was that killed her.
He stared at the grisly trophy for a moment before gazing one again at the Stranger. The message was clear. Cinder was so far above me… and they just killed her to prove a point.
"Uh… Okay. That's… Thanks for that, anyway… Glad the bitch is gone," he muttered as he toed the head so it wouldn't be staring into his eyes.
"My associates are generous," the Stranger bowed slightly with hands spread wide, "And if you need something, all you have to do is ask." There was a dark glitter in his eye as he continued while straightening up, "Although in return, they may ask you to do one or two minor favors."
"Such as?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just tell us if you see anything… unusual going on. More so than what is normally seen, that is. Strange lights in the skies, odd-looking people, that sort of thing."
"And of course, more involved jobs."
"You're catching on."
"So you gave me the carrot. You gave me the stick. What's the other carrot?"
Two No no no the end of all that is creeps and crawls skittered into the room, holding two bound and gagged figures, one with hair the color of jade, and the other the color of charcoal dust.
Roman smiled.
"Aw, buddy, you give the best presents."
"My associates give the best presents, Roman."
"Of course, of course," he murmured as he inspected the badly beaten forms of Mercury and Emerald.
"So what do you say, Roman? Do we have a deal?"
Roman hesitated for a moment. Just a moment.
They were horrific nightmares, but they had killed the one who put him through hell, made him rich, and given him a chance at revenge.
The answer was obvious.
"I'm in. When do I start?"
"Whenever you feel like, but we'd prefer sooner rather than later."
With that the three things- which now didn't look nearly as bad as he had first thought- melted into invisibility once more.
"Hey, I'm gonna need something from you."
"Oh?"
"You never told me your name… or how to contact you."
The Stranger smiled, and this one held so little warmth that he swore the air got colder for a second.
"My name… My name is Morden. And don't worry- we'll be in touch."
And like that he was gone.
Roman waited for a moment, before turning to Neo.
"So what do you think?"
She gave him a very expressive look.
"Yeah, it could backfire, but if they're willing to pay this much up front…"
She wrinkled her nose.
"I know it means that we're expected to get into some nasty business later, but…" he spread his hand and gestured to the head, the brats, and the notebook.
Neo thought for a moment, and then smiled.
"Glad you agree," he chirped, before turning to the now-conscious former lieutenants, who were staring at him in terror, making muffled pleas from under their gags.
"You know, I waited so long to have this opportunity," he began, pacing in a circle around the two, "Where I'd finally get to have one over you, when your sponsor didn't have your backs. But now that I have you two exactly- and I mean exactly- where I want, I find… well, I can't do it. I simply cannot beat you- one or two hits would kill you at this point. I'm not fond of poison, and anything other than shooting would be too much work. But you know what?" he affected a put-upon expression. "I just can't shoot you. I just can't."
Mercury relaxed visibly in his bonds, but Emerald was still wary… and the tension ratcheted up as Neo, smirking like the cat that ate the canary, handed a small object to Roman.
"Oh! Melodic Cudgel's silencer! Thank you so much, Neo! Okay, kiddies, now I can shoot you. Before, the gunshots could have drawn the police, but we're good now."
As he screwed on the silencer, he glanced at Emerald. "Oh, and by the way sweetie? Remember how you said I didn't know what she had planned?" He kicked the head of his former boss into her face. "Well, you'll pardon me…" he lowered the cane to point just between her eyes, "If I just don't find myself caring anymore."
He pulled the trigger.
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Sithking Zero: Okay, that was a thing. Hope that you all liked that!
Writing for Morden and Roman was entirely too much fun for my personal tastes. Seriously, that should be illegal.
I haven't seen season three yet, but I still have gripes about the first two seasons, which I used Roman to get across. And a big part of that is thanks to Cinder-Fucking-Fall and her useless-ass minions and their stupid vague plans and their stupid Breach thing and their stupid-stupid… stupidity.
Also I had this weird mental image of Londo Mollari and Roman talking, and thought that they might work well together. Londo is sort of what Roman might become if he keeps working with Cinder- a relic of what he once was, forced to perform increasingly idiotic plans for the sake of "do it or else," while watching others race ahead in effectiveness.
If you want to see how to EFFECTIVELY do a menacing, looming threat, watch Babylon 5 and check out Mister Morden and his Associates, the Shadows. Yes, they too make vague threats and are somewhat vague, but at the bare minimum we actually see them DOING stuff. Signs and Portents (Morden's first episode, for which this fic is named), has the Shadows actually show up and DO something other than be a looming threat- they pulled in one of their Battlecrabs to kill a battleship, fercryinoutloud! And Mr. Morden is way more charming and charismatic than Cinder and her flunkies ever were. Plus he dresses nicer.
What the hell is up with RWBY and outfits? Can we please have someone wearing not hilariously impractical clothing? Ironically, the one with the best outfit in that regard is Jaune. Everyone else has cleavage, or skirts, or high heels… Actually, Ren and Cardin's are okay as well… what the hell, Rooster Teeth, that men have decent outfits.
What I'm really trying to get across here is WATCH BABYLON 5! WATCH IT NOW! IT'S BEEN OFF THE AIR FOR A LONG TIME BUT IT'S SUPER FREAKING AMAZING! WATCH IT! WATCH IT!
Please leave thoughts in a review and keep watching for more stories from me!