AN: Second chapter here. WOOT! I have a general idea of where I want this story to go, and as of right now I'm looking towards making it eventual OCxRoman. How I get there is still in the works. I've been trying to get my character away from the whole 'edgyMcEdgelord' trope that seems to consume some OC's. Let me know how I've been doing so far!
"So, you ever think of just changing your name? I get that it's cultural and all, but that's a real mouthful." I ignored Mr. Torwick's trivial complaints as I inspected myself in my new attire in the mirror. My crimson red hair was neck length now and out of the way of my dark brown eyes. Instead of my previous coat and ripped pants, I now donned a black suit with a red tie. I didn't think I'd ever worn anything this nice in my life. I was more of a person for casual clothes. In my previous line of work, it was better to dress functionably instead of fashionably. That didn't seem to hold precedent anymore now that I was acting as one of Torchwick's bodyguards. The rest of the boys had been split up since signing on, with some going to moving dust shipments, and others being hired as general muscle. I patted down my slacks and glanced down to make sure my dress shoes were in acceptable condition.
"Well ya' seem to be pretty good at coming up with some names ya'self. What would ya' rather call me?" I asked. It only took me a few seconds to realize the hole I'd just dug myself at that instance.
"Well I would normally just call you Red, but I'm saving that name for this certain little brat I know," I paused, somewhat curious about that story. I'd have to question Torchwick about it later.
"How about 'Pyro'? Or 'hot-stuff'? Maybe even 'Sweet-", He paused at my accusatory glare. He smiled innocently and waved his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Alright alright. Hot-stuff it is." I groaned at the name, but Torchwick didn't seem to care one way or another. I was on the payroll after all, and he had the liberty to call me by whatever name he saw fit really. Torchwick looked me up and down to make sure I was in an acceptable state to accompany him to a meeting with his 'business associates' as he liked to term them.
"Now I just got to ask though. This has been killing me since the first time I met you, illustriously snoozing upon your lawn chair. What's your angle? I mean, your twenty-three and you were tragically driven to being an anarchist?" I held up my hand in signal for him to pause. I really wasn't in the mood for getting into my life story now, but I could at least give him my reasons for doing what I do.
"My life isn't particularly tragic. I was middle-class, and had everything I could pretty much want as a child. I was happy, shit, I suppose I still am." He seemed pretty put off by my declaration, but I stood up and flashed him a grin.
"My mother is a Huntress and my father is an ex-hunter. He works for the schnee's as an overseer at one of their faunus slave mines now. Dirty work, but boy did he bring home the bacon. One day he decided to bring me to work with him, I was pretty young and it was a last minute decision. Mom got called out on an 'excursion' or whatever the fuck, and they didn't want me home alone and 'blah blah blah'." I waved my hands so he'd get the point.
"One thing my parents never agreed on was their feelings towards Faunus. My dad really fuckin' hates Faunus. Like a lot. While I was with him, I got to watch those savages tear each other apart over the smallest bits of extra food. Disgustin' damn animals is what they were. This is how they acted unsupervised by their betters. I thought, how would people act without some council to tell em' what to do?" I elaborated. Torchwick seemed pretty unimpressed by my story so far. I didn't really blame him.
"So you fought the government because you were curious?" He seemed rather incredulous about my reasoning. I should probably tell him I had more than just one reason for doing so.
"Well, not just that." I added as my expression grew a bit more sinister and my grin morphed into a wicked smile.
"It's all about that rush you get when you fight. When you cause violence. I mean, have ya' ever held the life of someone else in the palm of your hands? To see the look on a persons face before you immolate them?" I gestured over towards Ifrit against the wall.
"It just so happens to be that I'm much more satisfied when the 'law goes up in flames', if ya' know what I'm sayin'." Roman seemed successfully put off by my morbid explanation. It was better than this way than trying to justify my political spectrum to him.
"Well uh...lets see hot-stuff. You seem pretty good to go right now. Just keep your math shut, don't say anything stupid, and everything should be over rather shortly." He explained. I rolled my eyes and hummed in acknowledgement. He was pretty eager to avoid the topic of immolation now. I grabbed Ifrit and allowed it to shift into its more compact form as a large briefcase before trailing off behind Roman.
I was unaware of Roman having another personal bodyguard aside from me. This 'Neo' chick as Torchwick referred to her was elegantly dressed, but didn't indicate anything that would make her dangerous. She carried an...umbrella thing? I looked on with a mildly unimpressed face. How do you even kill people with a fuckin' umbrella? Beat them with it? I snickered at the thought of this midget beating some big thugs into bloody pulps with it. Unfortunately for me, humor wouldn't save me from the stares I received from the woman dressed in an elegant red dress and her colorful associates.
"Something funny henchman?" Cinder asked curiously. I wasn't sure if I should of been relieved or even more scared at her tone of indifference. Roman sighed, and I felt I had just fucked up.
"I-I nah." I blurted out. Smooth...real smooth.
"Nah? Roman, what kind of illiterate backwater thugs have you been forced into hiring now? Though I suppose brawn and brain are requisite trade-offs for one or the other," Cinder insulted. I wanted to retort, but she quickly approached me and gave me a look over before looking towards Neo, who simply shrugged.
"Well if Roman hired you as one of his bodyguards, you're clearly good for something. Tell me, what is it that you do so well?" She questioned, and I could feel myself swell with pride. What was I good at?
"Fire, intimidation, and general violence," I hurriedly voiced. These were the first things to pop into my head on a short notice, but Cinder seemed unimpressed at my answer.
"We have enough brutes around here, and I'm sure Roman is good enough at violence on his own. What special skill do you possess that makes him want to hire you? Your semblance perhaps?" She inquired. She became disinterested in me as quickly as she had saw fit to acknowledge me. The meeting would continue undisturbed for another ten minutes, and I would go change the first chance I got. Then, it was time for work.
"I'd hate to get soot all over this nice suit after all."
AN: Well the ending felt a bit rushed, but I'm not too sure. Feel free to fav, follow, and review. Heck, go ahead and PM me suggestions for the story if you'd like, and I'll see about implementing them. I may like my character and story, but I know you peeps have plenty of great ideas too. All constructive criticism is welcome!