You stir, mind dislodging itself from muck as you place your hands to the soft, cushy - bed? - surface behind you, There's an itch there, an uncomfortable sensation - on both your shoulder and your stomach. You grumble as you haul yourself in a seating position on the side of the bed, feet on the cold tiled floor. You shiver, but welcome it - it will wake you up faster. Somehow, you feel very different.
You glance around, confused as to your whereabouts. It's not a hospital, that's for sure - which is surprising, considering the state you were in after-!
Your eyes widen, memories crashing against you in a violent wave of bloodshed and fear; then follows the nausea. You're a murderer - well, not per se -, you hadn't pulled the trigger yourself, but there's no doubt that you're an accomplice. Some part of you, dark and vengeful, sneers at your revulsion - those people had gone into The Club; and they were probably going to slaughter innocents. But that does nothing to quell your guilt, you can't accept that answer; because you're a killer now. And nothing will change that fact. Sure, it was in self-defense. But still...
Those people probably have- HAD friends, families. You imagine them - ignorant as to what had just occurred to their loved one, and just waiting for them to come back home. They'll be waiting for a very long time. Because you've killed them.
You sit there, shivering as you stare at the palm of your hands - vacant eyes staring at the lines on them and seeing vivid imagery of screaming men and laughing maniacs, all killers, all dead. You feel bile coming up your throat, but you hold it in, heaving.
Eventually, you can't stand it anymore. The itching in your shoulder and stomach start to bother you - but the guilt is what ultimately causes you to stand up from your spot on the bed. You're unsteady on your feet, reminding you of the few times that you had gotten drunk; and your wounds ache. You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the pain. It's not just your shoulder and stomach, but your insides, as well. You had hear several very distressing cracks while you were holding the rogue Huntsman down, and you've hear tell that the spilled stomach acids are just as deadly as the blood loss when it comes to stomach wounds.
Your brow furrows at the thought of the rogue Huntsman - you didn't even know that such a thing was possible. The Huntsmen are supposed to be the bulwarks of humanity - the ones protecting them against the Grimm and criminals alike. They're supposed to be heroes! Like from the legends of old! But...
A rictus of a grin, crazed blood-shot eyes. A madman, one who didn't just kill, but brutalized. The furthest thing from a hero.
...clearly, not all Huntsmen are necessarily heroes. You screw your eyes shut, feeling betrayed. The first Huntsman that you meet other than your dad, and he's an insane murderer. Your faith and hero-worship towards Huntsmen has gone down, you must admit.
Shaking your head, you resolve to think more on such matters once you've gotten some fresh air - that, and some water. Stumbling over to the door, you throw it open, leaving the sparse room behind you for a wide, spacious hallway - ornate, with embroideries and expensive furniture that doesn't so much dazzle you as make your head hurt in your current state. You look around, brow furrowing as you consider which hallway to go down.
To the western hallway, you can hear several indistinct voices present in a conversation. Their volume is steadily rising, so either their conversation is getting heated, or they're heading closer to your location.
The eastern hallway is silent, but you can tell by the sunlight shining through, reflecting off of the ridiculously shiny marble surface of this luxurious building, that it probably leads to some sort of exit, or an open space. Both are fine with you.
Your feet move, almost without prompting. You follow the sunlight - desperately needing fresh air in your lungs, desperately wanting a breeze to comfort you. You're not yourself, not fully.
And so you go east, away from the voices - maybe they're here for you. Maybe they'll come looking for you, once they find out that you aren't in that room; but you find yourself feeling uncharacteristically callous. You need to find yourself, before anything else. You need to take the time to process...everything.
Your wounds ache, your throat is parched, and the cold, hard marble is unyielding against your bare-feet. You're clad in nothing but a hospital gown, navy blue, and barely covering your unmentionables. You care not for these discomforts, and your fingers twitch at your sides. Your head is bowed as you walk, and your teeth are gritted. Your breathes are slightly heavy as you walk.
The pitter-patter of your footfalls are the only thing you hear as you traverse this annoyingly large hallway, in this annoyingly large house. It's getting warmer though, cool marble floors gaining heat as you continue on, as you get closer to somewhere where you can pick up the pieces of your shattered thoughts.
By the time you reach the exit to this incredibly large house - a huge, decorated archway that serves as the mansion's door - your wounds are aching, and your feet are sore.
But you can feel it, a refreshing breeze drifting in from outside. Beams of scattered sunlight managing to shine through. You feel a deep longing, nestling within your chest, at that. You take a step forward, ignoring the aches and the pains and the stings and you-!
A hand on your arm, soft like velvet; unyielding like steel. You turn startled eyes to meet her own - pink and brown, then brown and pink -. You blink, positively stumped as to this girl's appearance. She blinks back, imitating you in a manner that you just know is meant to mock you. She tilts her head at you, and then points to the door, as if in askance.
She's short, and wearing a stylish pink and white jacket that cuts off, barely covering her surprisingly large breasts, underneath that is a black sweater that leaves her luscious hips exposed. White boots, little less than knee-high, obscure parts of her plain, dark brown pants. The beads around her neck jingle, as her moderately-long brown and pink hair sways. She's beautiful, but you're not in the mood for this.
"Who're you?" The question is out of your mouth before you even think about it. She raises a single delicate eyebrow at your rude tone. You shake your head, sighing. You're still not fully you. You need to calm down.
"Sorry," you say after a little while. "Rough night. The name's Jaune Arc, nice to meet you. What's your name?"
The strange girl taps her chin, cheeks puffing up as she decides whether to forgive you or not. Shrugging, she takes out her scroll and types something on it with a speed that honestly baffles you. Then, she shoves the scroll in your face.
'Can't talk,' it reads. 'Name's Neopolitan. You can call me Neo, if you want. Where you going? And why are you going out looking like that?' She's referring to your state of dress, or lack thereof.
Neopolitan, as in the ice cream flavor? You look at her past her scroll, quirking a brow. You nod anyway, willing to answer.
"Heading out for some fresh air. Need to clear my head."
She looks thoughtful at that, as she retracts her scroll. You take that as her giving you her tacit approval, aiming to walk around her.
But she stops you once more, with that same surprisingly strong grip. You're starting to get annoyed now, but she shoves her scroll back in your face before you can express your displeasure. Rolling your eyes, you read the text on the screen.
'Kay,' it reads. 'Why don't we go out together? I was getting bored of being here, anyway. I could probably get some clothes for you, too. I doubt you wanna go out looking like that.'
You make to refuse; then you consider it. Sighing, you open your mouth and answer the girl - who's giving you a beseeching look that's almost criminal in its sweetness.
"Fine," You run your fingers through your hair, sighing. Why not bring her along? It's not like she's gonna chat you up while you're brooding, or anything. She looks pleased at your acceptance, jumping up and down like a child in a candy store - it does interesting thing to her, uh, chest. She quickly types something on her scroll; then tilts it so you can see what she's written.
'Cool!' And then a smiling emoticon. 'I'll go get you some clothes now!'
"Alright." You nod your acceptance. Then you look back to the hall you just came from. "So where are they...?"
Neo nods, smiling at you in a way that makes you uneasy. She grabs you suddenly, gloved fingers interlacing against yours.
"What are you-!"
The sound of glass shattering; and the world twists, squashing into an infinitely small size, and spinning thousands of times in a single second. Bile rises up your throat. Your brain pounds against your skull. It feels like hours have passed before you reach your destination - and you are helpless to do nothing, face scrunched up in a silent scream as the torturous nausea slams into your being and turns you into a barely-functional wreck.
And then your bare feet are once again planted on a solid surface. You stumble, tripping and planting face first against the floor, vomit spewing from your mouth and getting caught by your gown. Tears stream for your eyes, as you retch. The world won't stop spinning.
You spot heeled boots from the corner of your vision. You somehow manage to regain the mental faculties to follow them upwards - Neo, not looking befuddled at all as to your state, simply smiling as she walks closer to you - she's carrying a bundle of clothing in her hands. She nearly steps on your fingers as she kneels, setting down the clothing and patting your head in a patronizing manner.
"N-neo?" You ask, and she smiles, pointing at the bundle of clothing next to her. You're in a clothing store, you realize, after taking a second to pay attention to your surrounds. You're hidden behind several clothing racks, away from the line of sight of the employees and the other customers, and there's a changing stall not far from you.
You get up on shaking legs, retching from the smell of your own vomit. You turn to Neo, more questions than you can conceivably articulate, so you settle for the most pressing one.
"Did you...?"
She nods cheerily, smiling like she could do no wrong. She looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly - the perfect picture of a gentle girl. So why...why does it make you so uneasy?
"Why didn't you warn me, then?" You question her angrily. The world's still spinning a little, and there are so many questions swimming in your mind - it's all giving you a migraine. Was it too much to ask for just a little while to think? You're beginning to think that Vale is cursed, that or you just have the worst luck ever. This freaking girl just what, teleported you? That's the only explanation, right? Unless it's all some sort of elaborate prank, but you get the feeling that's not the case.
She shrugs, as if she honestly never thought about it. You're about to retort, when she shoves something your mouth. It's soft and velvety, and it smells good. She has an innocent expression on her face as she does it, too. And you're starting to question if it's genuine.
You spit the thing out, glancing at it. You reel back, shocked; then you look at it again, sure that your eyes are tricking you. No luck.
She just shoved a pair of frilly black panties in your mouth.
"What the fuc-!"
She pouts, shoving another pair of panties, which she procured from...somewhere, in your mouth.
'No swearing,' she types on her scroll, and then shows you.
You're quickly reaching your boiling point with this girl. She's just so...argh! What the hell?! You're honestly just baffled. She's like one of your sisters, but a thousand times worse - and you didn't even think that was possible!
You spit out the panties, and angrily start. "Now listen here-!"
And then someone turns the corner to use one of the changing stalls. It's a woman - midden-aged by the look of it, and her face is contorted in shock as she looks at both of you. She drops the bundle of clothes she was carrying, and her mouth follows soon after.
All the color drains from your face - its easy to mistake whats happening. She can't see Neo's bust and face from here, so she looks much younger then she really is, almost child-like, really. You're barely wearing anything, and there's two panties on the floor.
"Pervert!" She shrieks, stumbling back as if she's afraid that you're going to molest her. You reel back, as if physically struck. "Pedophile!" She shrieks again, running out of sight. You hear startled yells and shrieks from the rest of the store, and a cacophony of footsteps heading towards your location.
"Neo!" You hiss, looking at her in a panicked way. The girl's shoulders are shaking, and you realize after some confusion, that she's silently laughing.
"She's crazy.." You whisper - the mentally unstable girl simply laughs some more at that, scooping up the clothes and somehow-manhandling you - despite her small size - into standing up. Hope blossoms in your chest - if she can teleport you into this store, she can probably teleport you out. But...
"Oh god, I'm gonna hate this." But you're sure that dealing with the nausea is better than being branded as a sexual deviant, so you'll pay the price.
"Alright," you breathe, chest going up and down in a semi-relaxed manner. "I'm read-!" She doesn't even let you finish before she begins to teleport, and the nausea strikes you, just like the first time.
But unlike the first time, you're prepared now. And your second time teleporting is much more pleasant than the first. You stumble as your feet hit solid ground, but you do not fall this time.
You're somewhere else - a small apartment, with an area that's probably supposed to be the kitchen shunted off to the side - the implements there look unused, so the resident probably rarely, if ever makes use of them. There's a door that looks like it leads to the bedroom, and another a little ways away that leads to the bathroom. Behind you is a door that likely leads to the exit.
Neo pushes you to the bathroom, waving her hands in front of her in the universal gesture of, 'You stink.' You glare daggers at her, but stumble over to the bathroom anyway. It's probably her apartment you're in, you assume. And while usually, being in a girl's apartment would fluster you like nothing else, you're much too ruffled for that at the moment.
You don't pay much attention to the bathroom, simply drawing some hot water and sitting on a present stool, waiting for the tub to be filled. You make sure to keep the door locked behind you; but you're unsure how much that'll help with a girl that has the ability to teleport. You divest yourself of your vomit splattered patient's gown, nose scrunching up in disgust at the stench. You let it hit the floor with a wet 'splat!'. You would normally be more considerate in another person's home, but Neo's bringing out the worst in you.
Once the tub's filled with steaming hot water, you gingerly place yourself in it, sighing in satisfaction as the hot water eases the tension in your muscles. You throw your head back, looking at the ceiling. You close your eyes, and relax-!
Red, red in the floor, in the ceiling. Red running down bullet-riddled bodies
"Fuck," you whisper, an intake of air, your heart thundering in your chest. No matter how you try, you can't take your mind off of that night. "Fuck," you say again, softer. You close your eyes once more, dunking your head in the water. You grab some shampoo that's placed off to the side, in a stand, lathering some on your hair. You run your hands through your hair - your mother and your sisters would always run their hands through it, even made you promise to take care of it, when you left.
You feel a smile coming to your face, unbidden. Thinking of family always helps, you find.
You grab a bar of soap from the stand, depositing the shampoo bottle back to where you grabbed it from. You rub the soap around your body - mango-scented, apparently -. Once you're satisfied with your cleanliness, and made sure that the scent of vomit has finally vanished, you step out of the tub.
You glance around, looking for a towel. Your eyes drift over a tiny one, dismissing it as too small for you; but you can't find a bigger one. You freeze, that thing can barely fit around your hips, and it'll barely cover your unmentionables.
"Neo! Do you have anymore towels?!" You call out, no answer. Not like you were expecting anything, it was more an act of desperation than anything else. Sighing, you realize that this is your only options, and it's either the tiny towel, or going out naked. And while you're tempted to do that, just to see the look on her face. You're a bit hesitant to flash a girl you just met. You wipe off the water stuck to you with the towel, and then tie it around your waist, making sure that it won't fall down. Like you thought, it only reaches to your upper thighs, and it looks like its going to burst any second.
Face burning, you walk out. You try to look dignified, but Neo's shaking shoulders and pointing finger as she lounges on a couch is making it awfully hard.
You spot the clothes draped over the foot of the couch.
Something's missing, you realize.
"Where's the underwear?" You ask her, a sinking feeling in your gut,
She throws some panties at you. And you're starting to wonder if she possesses an ability to spontaneously create panties from nothing.
You snarl, tossing the panties away, and grabbing the clothes that Neo had gotten for you - sighing in relief once you see them. While they're more formal than you're used to, you're grateful that they aren't women's clothes like you were dreading. While your mother and sisters were always going on about how good you looked in them, you don't think you can take the crippling hit to your masculinity. Not again, and not in front of Neo of all people.
Neo pouts at your action, kicking her feet at you indignantly. You snidely remark (in your head, of course. You don't want her to do more damage to your pride than she's already done in retaliation) that she's much too short for that to be a threat. You quickly hurry back to the bathroom, unwilling to be around Neo with so much of yourself exposed.
Your nose scrunches up as the scent of vomit from the ruined patient's gown, abandoned on the tiled floor, hits you with all the force of a truck. You don your clothes, taking very special care not to get 'little Jaune' get stuck in the zipper. You put your socks on, and then the dress shoes. You fumble with the buttons of your dress shirt, and you've ruffled the vest so much that it looks more like some sort of shawl than anything else. But as you look in the mirror, flashing yourself a wink and a charming - to you - smile, you can't help but think that you look pretty good, if you do say so yourself. Neo might be a little brat, but she has taste, at least.
You check if your zipper's all the way up - you don't anybody getting an unwanted glimpse of your unmentionables after all. Getting arrested for public indecency isn't really on your list of things to do. If only Neo had given you actual underwear to wear - well, technically she had, but panties?! It's slightly uncomfortable - wearing the trousers without any form of underwear. But you can make do.
Straightening your outfit and looking for any mistakes. You don't deign to comb your hair - your mother would have thrown a fit, but you like the look of your hair in its natural state.
You exit the bathroom, as spring in your step, a confidence that wasn't there before. You're not gonna stand Neo's bullying, you decide. You're gonna defend yourself! And if she has a problem with it, then too bad-!
Neo suddenly appears in front of you - a sound like shattering glass. Pink and cream-colored eyes, an outstretched hand. It's too late to dodge out of the way. Your body tenses, steeling yourself in preparation of the nausea of Neo's teleportation. But Neo does not do that, instead her gloved hands reach out for your collar, straightening it out with an annoyed huff.
'What are you?" She types, after she deems your collar suitable. 'Five? Can't you make your own collar. Do you want to embarrass me?'
You stop yourself from replying. 'Yes', you feel like that would earn you nothing but pain. Instead deigning to shake your head, and shrugging your shoulders in apology.
"Sorry," you offer, and the insincerity is known even to you. "I'm not used to these kinds of clothes," you say, in an attempt to placate the volatile young lady. It seems to have done the opposite, making Neo look at you as if you were a particularly disgusting bug that had found itself in her food. It's a withering look, is all that you're saying.
'Whatever,' she types, rolling her eyes. 'Where we going, anyway?'
"What?" You ask her.
She gives you an expression that practically screams. 'Are you blind?', shoving her scroll in your face. You back away a little, wanting some personal space. Neo moves forward, matching you step for step.
"You're letting me decide?" You ask her, surprised. Neo doesn't seem like the type of person to give up the initiative - she seems like the domineering type, but then again...you hardly even know her. So she might have some nuances to her that you don't quite know yet? But that doesn't feel right, somehow. She looks at you, peculiar eyes glinting. You get the feeling that she's testing you.
Goddammit. You should have gone west. Then you wouldn't be dealing with this shit.
"Why don't we head over to a park?" You decide, after a few seconds of pondering. It seems like a mighty fine idea to you, a wide open space with few distractions - a place where you can think and come to grips to what you have done. Neo doesn't seem to share you sentiments however, judging by the twisting of her lips.
'A park?' She types with her characteristic speed. 'Why a park?' Though she is mute, you swear that you can hear her whine petulantly.
You back away a little, clutching your chest. When not attempting to push your buttons, Neo is dangerously cute. You look away a little, as Neo stamps at the ground like a child who didn't get what they wanted.
"You can uh, just not come with me?" You suggest, Neo gives you the stink eye. She pouts as she considers your words, and for a second, you dare to hope that she will leave you alone, so you can finally sort out your feelings in peace. That hope is mercilessly brought back to heel as Neo shakes her head, still giving you that same look of adorable discontent.
'No.' She eventually types out, after a second of you standing uneasily by - you reckon she took so long to get to you just to make you squirm. She's sadistic enough for it. 'There'd be no point.'
Your brow quirks, as you consider what she writes.
"What do you-!?"
Neo's hand lashes out, catching your arm. The world twists, and you find yourself screaming as your very being is forcibly pulled in an instand to a seemingly random direction. Squish. Pulling. Squeezing. The sensations should feel painful; but they do not. That does not stop them from being supremely uncomfortable however.
Green - as far as the eye can see. You stumble a little bit, while Neo stands gracefully a few meters away from you - a respectable distance, in case you decide to react like you had first time you were teleported. Luckily, you had built up somewhat of a small resistance. And your pretty sure your stomach is empty, anyways.
"I hate it when you do that," you grimace, glaring at Neo - who waves at you cheekily, brandishing a parasol clipped to her belt, and unfurling it. She walks off, gesturing for you to follow her.
You contemplate defying, out of spite. A second later and you realize that you have no idea where Neo sent the both of you to, so you follow her grudgingly. You mutter under your breath as you follow the cheery girl, wincing at the unfamiliar feeling of 'little Jaune' brushing against your trousers. You try to content yourself with the fact that the alternative would have brought you an infinite amount of humiliation.
Like you said before - this place has greenery everywhere. Trees, shrubs. A breeze drifts, brushing along grass and making them sway hypnotically. You can't help but smile. It's very picturesque. Your sisters would have loved it here.
Your smile dims at that - would they judge you? No, surely not. They would understand, they really would. They would comfort you, whispering soft nothing as you cry on their shoulders. They're great like that.
Somehow, the thought depresses you.
Distracted as you are - you hit something small. You nearly stumble as you impact against Neo's back. She had stopped while you were thinking. She gives you a look over her shoulder. You freeze in place, sweating bullets.
"Sorry." You will deny ever having squeaked, but your voice is pitifully high. "I was distracted."
Giving you one last lingering look over her shoulder, she strides forwards - to a nondescript wooden bench, sitting on it with a sigh. She taps the spot beside her, looking at you meaningfully.
After a moment's hesitation, you sit with her. Making sure to sit as far away from her as physically possible. Neo seems amused at that, chuckling silently as she types something on her scroll, showing it to you a second later.
'Well, we're here. What do you have in mind?'
You shrug your shoulders. "I was thinking of just sitting here - relaxing, you know? Think about some stuff."
'Boorrrringgggggg' She types. She does a lot of pouting, you realize. Pink and cream-colored eyes glare at you, as she inches closer and closer towards you. Subtly, but not too subtly. You have nowhere to go, and she's not so aggressive as to prompt you to stand. She stops, closer than you were hoping, but farther than you were dreading.
'Might as well talk about it. What do you have on your mind that's oh so important?'
"I've killed people!" You blurt out. Your face goes pale as you realize what you've just said. You were hardly even thinking - you're just sick of keeping it to yourself. You don't want it to fester any longer, brimming under the surface to inevitably boil over at the worst possible moment. You're fingers dig into your lap, teeth gritting. Stupid. Idiot. You shouldn't have said that.
You look away, unwilling to see the disgust on Neo's face, to see the fear as she realizes that she's talking to a killer. Your shoulders are shaking; and the silence that follows your proclamation is stifling. The air is thick - it gets in your throat, making speaking up a challenge.
"I didn't kill them myself," you croak out quietly, closing your eyes,. Excuses, you might as well have. Even now, you deny it. But deep down, you know. "But I helped."
Neo is still silent, you don't know what you expected. For a second, you think that she teleported away. But you're too much of a coward to check, to look back at her.
"It wasn't a murder!" You insist, wanting to explain yourself - to either Neo or yourself, you don't know. "They were...I was in a club and they were going to kill people. They had weapons. They were going to kill one of my friends...I had to stop them..." A real hero wouldn't have had to kill them...
Silence. You gulp, feeling weak and vulnerable - like you haven't grown up from that precocious little kid from so many years ago. You wait, in that absence of sound, unsure of what to even expect. Moments pass by like that, and just when you're about to stand up and run, you feel a dainty, gloved hand on your shoulder.
You jerk, like you've been burned. Gaze turning to Neo - who's...
Smiling. It shakes you to your core - the expression is so innocent. So pure, But her eyes are so blank. The contrast between the two is incomprehensible to you, and you're stuck between the warmth of being comforted, and the cold of being disturbed. Her fingers dance along your shoulder, eventually coming to your face, caressing your cheek. You shiver.
She doesn't say anything for a very long moment - and neither do you. The silence seems sacred, and it almost feels like a crime to break it. She retracts her hand, tilting her head as she looks at you with that same disturbingly blank gaze. You're entranced. Pink and cream. Cream and pink. Brown and pink. Pink and brown. Brown and cream. Cream and brown. Her eyes flicker, never staying the same color for long.
You can't look away.
A flicker of something too cold to be warmth, but too warm to be cold passes through those peculiar eyes. But you can't look into it any further; because her arms are around you before you even know it. You sit there, shocked - as this girl you barely even know hugs you. Hesitatingly, you hug back, feeling your shoulders start to shake even further. You close your eyes, hoping it'll keep the tears at bay.
A shuddering sigh escapes you, and you're just too tired to be embarrassed. The height difference between you two makes it so that Neo's face is against your chest - but it is you that feels like the child. You stay like that, for what seems like an eternity. And you're disappointed when Neo starts to pull away.
"Thank you,' you say, looking away and hoping that she doesn't hear the hitch in your breath, or see the tears falling down your face. "Thank you."
Somehow, you feel cleansed.
You feel gloved fingers wrapping around your chin; and you can't even muster up the will to resist as she makes you meet her gaze. You tense, ready to be mocked. You deserve it. You're too pathetic for words, after all.
To your surprise she doesn't say anything. A hand snakes into one of the pockets of her jacket, retrieving a pink handkerchief with an intricate 'N' emblazoned on the center. She wipes your tears away with it, surprisingly gentle. You flush, humiliated and grateful in equal measure. She's not so bad, when she's like this.
Once she's done wiping away your tears, she tucks away her handkerchief in one of your vest pockets.
'So people know,' she types on her scroll, showing you. You're too drained to object, or question it. So you just nod placidly, taking one last shuddering sigh. She pretends not to notice.
She gets up, extending one dainty hand for you to grab.
'Now let's go somewhere else. Okay?'
"Could we go to The Club?" You ask, trying to look like you hadn't poured your heart out to this girl only minutes before. You're worried about Ivory - she seemed fine, but last you saw her, you were bleeding out from a massive stab wound. You want to check up on her, and tell her you're okay now, confirm that she is too. That, and you want to ask about the attackers. Have they found out who they were?
Scratch that. For what purpose would they attack a nightclub, of all places? The puzzle pieces don't quite click. You're missing something here. Something big.
Neo tilts her head at you, nimble fingers typing away. 'Junior's place. Where you got injured, huh?'
Your eyes widen, not expecting Neo to be so well-informed. "How did you...?"
Neo smirks. 'Girl's gotta have some secrets.' She lets out a silent giggle, tapping her forehead with her index finger. 'I assume that's where you killed.' A statement, not a question.
Your face sours, wounds still far too raw, but you nod your head anyway, Neo seems to be considering something - her eyes shift color languidly. Brown and cream. Cream and brown. Then, she snaps her fingers, as if she's captured an errant thought, or come up with the solution to a particularly vexing problem.
'Okay,' she types. And you can feel the cheeriness in those words, even in text form. You feel a tingle crawling up your spine - a warning -, as Neo looks up at you, a strange look in those flickering eyes. 'Let's go!'
She's happy, far too happy. It's not faked, just...you can't really explain it - it's joy, but warped in some inexplicable manner. You shake off these thoughts, you're just imagining things. While Neo's...strange, to say the least. And too sadistic for her own good, at times - she's ultimately a good person, why else would she have comforted you?
Neo twirls her parasol around, strapping the gaudy thing to her belt. Offering her hand to you. Standing up, you gingerly take it, tensing your body in preparation.
The second your hand makes contact with her's - the world twists. Inertia and momentum and the very laws of physics themselves bending over and rolling over dead at Neo's feet. Faster than fast. More than speed.
A thousandth thousandth of a second later and you're in The Club, missing a step as your empty stomach roils in protest. Crimson on the walls and the floor and the ceiling meshing with the stars in your vision. You take a breath, letting the decadent and hedonistic scent of The Club - fainter in day time than night by several orders of magnitude - wash over you, purging the nausea in your system.
After you've collected yourself, you take more notice of your surrounding past the crimson pallor that The Club seems so entrenched in. To be specific - the numerous firearms currently pointed at Neo and you. For a second, your mind flashes back to that horrible night. The desperation. The fear. The anger.
You don't even have time to raise your hands in surrender before one of the numerous bodyguards of The Club, who you begin to recognize past the thick haze that drifts through your mind and numbs your thoughts.
"WHO ARE YOU!?" Your panicked mind knows enough that it tells you to speak, to acquiesce to the man's demands. But you can't. Panic and hysteria renders you immobile. Unable to speak. To even move. Is this how you're going to die? After that horrible night, are you really going to get killed over a stupid misunderstanding?!
You feel a tug at your sleeve, snapping your head to the source - Neo, who is as belligerent looking as ever, steadfast in the eye of the storm, -, you feel not-relieved, but you'e not as uneasy as you were before. You flash her a smile that crumbles instantly, but there's no denying the thanks in your eyes. Neo nods imperiously, as if your satisfaction is acceptable enough. A bubble of almost-crazed laughter dislodges the lump in your throat.
"J-Jaune Arc!" You manage in a halting tone, almost too quiet to be heard. "I-I was here the night you were attacked!" The men look at you curiously - some have probably recognized you. They whisper among themselves, clenched hands easing on the grips of their weapons.
"AND THE GIRL!?" They're referring to Neo. Panic threatens to burst in and take control once more, as you realize that it's not only your life on the line. But Neo's as well. Sure, she can teleport. But can she do it fast enough to evade a speeding bullet? You don't know, and you don't want to gamble on Neo's life. You breathe in and out, an effort to relax yourself that only throws you deeper into the pit of anxiety.
"She's with me!" You say back. "A friend, she's harmless!" Neo looks amused at all of this - perhaps she hasn't grasped the situation yet.
Firearms fall, level with their side, as their owners look at you with cautious eyes behind their signature crimson shades. There are bags underneath those eyes, and some of them are swaying on their feet. They're tired, these men.
Someone hustles to the friend of the small crowd of bouncers that encircled - nondescript, except for the bullet scar that decorate one of his cheeks. More battle-weathered soldier than security guard - this man is different from his fellows, more capable.
"I'll take you to Junior." There's respect in that intonation of the owner's nickname, far more than you would expect from an employee. He makes a gesture with his hand, and the men disperse, permitting you to see the true state of the club - now that they're not blocking your view.
It doesn't look as wrecked as that nigh - bullet-holes had filled seemingly every corner, back then. The corpses had painted the ground a nauseating color -, but there are no corpses now, no blood. Just the natural color of the club, it's damaged - sure, but less than that night.
Belatedly, as you follow the weathered bouncer, with Neo following close behind - you wonder if that's because they've repaired it so fast, or just because you been out for that long. You realize that you haven't exactly checked the date, a stupid oversight, now that you think about. Well, you don't have a scroll - and the memories of your breakdown makes you far too flustered to look at Neo for long, much less ask her for her scroll.
The scarred man leads you to the back, ascending one of the stairs residing in the four corners of the room, and twisting through the quasi-labyrinthine hallways that resided past the drink-tables. You pass what seem to be private rooms - even bedrooms, for the employees - you guess. The building is larger than it would seem; and the somber ambiance permeating through the air does not help with your nerves. Of course Neo seems totally unbothered, even bored.
Eventually you come across a door, large and ornate. There's no doubt that this room is important.
The scarred man knocks on the door, short, sharp; done in a strange sequence. Tap. Tap. Tap. Pause for half a second. Slightly stronger tap. There's a short pause before anyone answers.
"Come in!" A recognizable voice, deep and masculine. The bouncer opens the door, revealing-!
Junior sits behind a large desk, looking utterly entrenched in the paperwork weighing down on the large oaken piece of furniture. His brows are tightly knit, and the scowl on his face is drenched in anger and frustration. He chokes as he catches sight of Neo (what's the matter?)
But your eyes aren't on Junior.
Ivory looks terrible - it's like she hasn't slept in weeks. She slouches in her seat, in front of Junior's desk. Her tie's nowhere to be found, and her suit is ruffled. There are coffee stains on her collar. Her exhausted, half-open eyes tighten as she sees Neo, but snap wide open as she sees you.
The scarred bouncer excuses himself, perhaps feeling the tension permeating in the room - like the calm before the storm. You envy him.
"Jaune?" She mumbles, voice low - but despite that, it reverberates through the whole room. She stands up, uncharacteristically almost stumbling with the speed of the motion. "We'll finish this later," she snaps over her shoulder, at a pale-faced Junior, who's still staring at Neo as if he had seen a ghost (seriously, what's with him?). She takes long strides at you, hands clenching at her sides. And you're certain that she's gonna clock you.
Neo stands in front of her - you can't see her expression from your position; but it prompts a slightly uncertain look on Ivory's face, before the white-haired woman shakes her head, expression resolute.
"Back off, Neopolitan," Ivory spits, and you're shocked at her vitriol. "This is none of your business."
Neo is silent.
Ivory takes a step forwards.
It takes only a second for you to decide your course of action. You take a step forward, placing a hand on Neo's shoulder. She tenses, a barely notice-able action that leaves you worrying that you've crossed some sort of boundary, but she thankfully relaxes so quick that you wonder if you just imagined it. From the corner of your vision, you see Junior looking at you like you're a madman.
Ivory stops dead in her tracks at your motion, expression unreadable. You can't see Neo's face from here, but you continue speaking anyway, hoping that she'll listen to you and not let the situation escalate further.
"Thank you, Neo," you say sincerely, not saying what you're thanking her for. It doesn't need to be said. "But me and Ivory need to talk."
Everything is silent for a few seconds. Neo turns to you, expression still locked onto that same look of vague amusement, mocking. You tense, expecting to be ignored; but she nods very slowly, stepping aside to give Ivory access to you. You see Ivory and Junior giving the both of you shocked looks, but your attention is on Neo - she's typing something.
'Okay. I'll be here with Junior, having a little chat.' You favor the aforementioned man with a pitying look upon reading the text on the scroll. 'Come back soon, okay?'
You nod quickly, giving her one last appreciative smile. Ivory steps cautiously forward, as if she's expecting a trap of some sort. You're confused, maybe it's because of her clear lack of rest? You gulp as she stands in front of you, emerald gaze locked onto yours. Ultimately, you're the one who looks away.
"Let's talk somewhere else," she says quietly. You nod jerkily, feeling nervous. She goes through the door with one last suspicious look at Neo.
Yes, there's definitely a history there that you don't know about. Unpleasant, by Ivory's reaction - though Neo doesn't seem to see it that way. Amusement is permeating through her right now - you don't think it was out of some attempt at protecting you that led to Neo standing in front of Ivory's path, rather - she just wanted to piss Ivory off, you think. You're not sure - you're not exactly that well acquainted with Neo's mindset.
But she listened to you when you told her to leave Ivory be - what does that mean? Did she do it just to indulge you? Has she taken a liking to you? You're not stupid, you know that Ivory and Junior are intimidated by the diminutive woman, but why? She has a semblance - so, Huntress? But even then, why would they be intimidated by a Huntress? Sure - they were attacked by a rogue Huntsman. But everyone knows that Huntsmen are so strictly regulated that rogues are almost myths.
Argh, you'll just ask later.
Neo winks at you, as you leave the room - brown and cream, changing to cream and cream. What a vexing woman. You can't really bring yourself to really dislike her, though. Then again, Mom always said that you're like a puppy in the way that you never bore any ill will, even to people that are overly antagonistic to you.
Ivory is waiting for you outside; and you take a moment to really understand how disheveled she looks.
"You look terrible," you blurt out. A second later, and you clamp your hands over your mouth, horrified. Damn your mouth! You're cursed, you say, cursed!
Ivory snorts, lips tugging upwards in the first display of positive emotion you've seen from her since you woke up. It raises your spirits - even though the expression is infinitesimal in scope.
"No thanks to a certain someone," she shoots back. You grimace. She turns on her heel, beckoning you to follow. You do - following her as she leads you through the twists and turns of The Club's upper floor. You walk with her in silence.
"This place is..." You begin, floundering for conversation. The awkward tension is too much, and you want to break it. But you can't muster up the nerve, so you drop the topic.
"Maze-like, needlessly-complicated?" Ivory finishes for you. You look at her in surprise, she just keeps looking ahead. You can't see her expression, only the back of her ruffled pitch suit. You nod, but then realize that she can't see you.
"Y-yeah."
Ivory hums, glancing at you with a tired gaze, as she leads you towards hallway after hallway of the same crimson walls, passing door after door. You don't know where she's taking you. She stops in front of a door. It looks different from the other, more ornate. Emerald words, written in clear writing show who this particular room belongs to.
"Your room?" You ask. Ivory nods, and then unceremoniously heads in. You follow her after a second of hesitation.
Spartan - there's a desk. A bed. A nightstand, and another door that probably leads to the bathroom. There's no posters, or anything - but there is a massive amount of paperwork on her desk.
You tear you gaze from the ludicrous amount of work - isn't she just a bouncer? - and turn to look at Ivory, who's sitting on her messy bed. She's sinking into the cushion, leaving you no choice but to sit with her on the one person bead, or stand. You take the second option, of course.
She's looking at you, like she's expecting something from you. There's a frown on her face. You know she's displeased with you - for risking your life and disobeying her. And you don't really blame her.
"I'm sorry," you say, genuine regret in your voice as you bow your head. "I'm sorry for making you worry."
You hear an intake of breath from Ivoy - the sound is angry, somehow.
"Only for making me worry?" You look up to her. She's snarling, frustrated tears in her eyes as she stands up. "Do you even have any idea, any at all, about what you've done?"
She's breathing angrily, hands clutched at her side; knuckles bleeding white. You've never seen her lose her composure so - she had remained calm, even when The Club had been attacked. Back then, you'd have believed that the world could have ended - and she would retain that mastery of herself. Evidently, you were wrong.
You don't know Ivory.
But as you witness her practically breaking down in front of you - base anger and frustration -, you know that you'd like to. To understand. So you keep silent, taking it all with nary a twitch, mouth set in your best impression of stoicism.
She throws her hands to the air at your silence, eyes glinting.
"Of course not." She laughs - a dry, almost-sobbing chuckle filled with not-joy, but hysteria and tiredness. "You're like..." She gestures in a way that you don't comprehend, but you get the point by the frustration in the motion. "One of those propaganda Huntsmen - the ones that who think they can save everyone by their lonesome - they show on TV, except you're actually real."
Normally, you would have preened at the comparison; but the sheer scorn in her voice tells you that she means it as an insult.
The silence stretches on, wrapping around your throat like a noose. The only sound in that room is the sound of Ivory's breathing. You don't know what to say, the noose is tightening - sealing your voice, your words inside you, out of your reach.
Ivory closes her eyes. letting out a shuddering breath. Guilt stabs at you, you had done this, with your attempts at heroics - a true hero would make sure that nobody was hurt.
But you're not a true hero.
Your heart hardens - you grit your teeth. You rip apart that noose by sheer force of will.
"I don't regret it." Your words echo throughout the room like a gun shot. Her eyes snap open to meet yours, fury in them. She opens her mouth, but you interrupt her.
"What I did was stupid - I know. A smart person would have ran. I risked it all. Would've made my family mourn me if I died." You know this, knew this when you made the decision. But acknowledging it is different, makes it more pronounced. You can't ignore it any longer. You're truly scum, aren't you? The lowest of the low, so low that he has to drag others to his level just to be happy. That's what it means to be Jaune Arc.
Your shoulders shake. Everything that makes Jaune Arc the coward that he is screams at you not to look at Ivory in the eye, but you ignore it. You meet her tired eyes with your own, and speak - not with flowery words to appease her, but what you truly feel.
"But..." No tears come out - you've already cried all of your tears on Neo's shoulder, and for that you're grateful. You already look pitiful enough. "I thought If I could do something. Save someone..."
You gulp, throat feeling awfully dry. Ivory's eyes are softening, but you can't stop. Not now. It's all pouring out now.
"Even if I...had to kill to protect..." The words you speak make you sick to your stomach, make you loathe yourself even more. Because those words are so easy to utter. And it's not the fact that you've killed that bothers you, but how easy it was to snuff out those lives. How dreadfully simple it is to justify taking a person's life.
"Even if had to die to protect..." You think of your sisters, your father, your mother, of Ivory. And you know that what you're saying is unforgivable.
Everyone in the face of Remnant is fundamentally broken in someway, that's what your father used to say - when he had a couple of beers, and your mother was out of ear shot. Everyone is twisted, in some manner. A perfect person is the most unbelievable lie.
"Then it would be worth it."
You try to smile, you really do. Ivory stands in a shocked stupor, arms hanging limply at her sides.
"Jaune..." She whispers.
"So I won't apologize." You say, an ember of resolve burning in your chest - blue eyes burning as you reveal yourself for what you truly are. "It'd be a lie. And I won't lie to you. If I had to rewind time to do it all over again, I'd choose the same thing. Every single time. I'd save you and those twins again. Even if it killed me. Even if you wouldn't want me to."
Strong words.
Spoken by a fake hero, you finish firmly, recalling that damning word she called you when you were on death's door. A strange feeling of catharsis encases you. You feel accepted by yourself - a strange feeling, like an ethereal pair of hands on your shoulders.
She takes a step towards you, almost stumbling. Seeing the normally composed Ivory acting so dazed finally does it for you. Your legs give out, as you laugh hysterically, madness and all those fuzzy, cloudy feelings overtaking the loathing. If only for a second.
"Jaune!" Ivory is at your side in a moment, as you sit there, on her floor.
"Sorry," you laugh. "It's just...that was all really cheesy, wasn't it?" You give her a watery grin, scratching your head. "I think I embarrassed myself pretty bad."
You can barely contain your snickers, and Ivory joins you, giggling at your plight. You pretend to ignore the tears falling down her eyes, and she does likewise with your shaking frame.
"This isn't over," she promises, voice regaining that same tired twinge, that same lack of levity. "I still hate what you did."
You become silent.
"I know." You nod.
"You're worth more than you seem to think you are, Jaune." You look away at her words, mumbling.
"Thanks," you murmur, as you wrap your hands around her. Ivory freezes, sputtering nonsense - you wish you could see her expression, but your head's rested on her shoulder, so alas. You shift, and Ivory tumbles so that she's sitting on the floor along with you. Why, if someone were to walk in right now - there would probably a pretty big misunderstanding. You chuckle at the thought, not at all worried. You feel light.
"Jaune?" Ivory says your name very quietly, once she's calmed down a bit. You shuffle a bit more, seeking to make yourself comfortable, and pushing your knees against Ivory's in the process. She goes very still at that.
"Yeah?" You ask contentedly. You're quite comfortable where you are. You hope she doesn't want to break the hug - you'd have thought that you'd be flustered with a girl in your arms, lest of all one as pretty as Ivory, but you really can't find yourself to be flustered. You'll probably look back on this moment, later on - face burning in embarrassment. But right now? You don't have anywhere you'd rather be.
She whispers something against your ear, breath tickling sensitive skin. You give out a startled yelp, which prompts a bout of sleepy giggling from her.
"I didn't hear that," you say, once she's gotten control of herself. You can't be too mad though, her genuine laughter brings a smile to your face. "Can you say it again?"
"Fine..." She yawns against your shoulder, tightening her grasp on you. "Could you sleep with me?"
You choke on your own spit, calm broken into thousands of tiny pieces. Neo would've laughed at the startled expression on her face, if she was here. You try to break the hug for a moment, but Ivory won't let you go. Eventually you give up, slacking in her superior grip.
"I-I don't know you that well yet. S-sorry!" You eventually say, squirming in her grip. Ivory makes a confused noise; then one like she's just realized something. Her grip slacks, as she jumps away from you - face burning in embarrassment.
"N-no!" She denies vehemently, "Not like that," she continues quickly. "Just...I dunno. Be my teddy bear?"
"Oh."
A silence falls between you - thick and uncomfortable and not at all like the comforting silence you had shared with her earlier. You can't seem to meet her eyes, and she has exactly the same problem. Internally, you're bashing your head against a proverbial wall for misunderstanding her. What else could she have meant, idiot?
You hear a yawn, Ivory is adorably rubbing at her eyes, slumping in her place at the floor. Her half-lidded eyes catch you staring at her ruffled form, and you quickly look away. Damn it, why are you getting embarrassed now? Where has your previous calm gone?
"So?" She sounds as nervous as you feel.
You gulp.
Your answer leaves your mouth before you can think more about it. Your face burns, as a whole new rush of embarrassment registers - you hope you didn't sound too eager. Ivory looks relieved at your answer, smiling at you as she gets up, and makes way for her bed. With a muffled 'oomph', she falls atop the mattress, burying her face in the pillow with a satisfied noise. Your feel like your heart is jumping in your chest as you realize that the bed, while sufficient for a single person, is not enough for two.
Ivory turns to you, a sleepy smile on her face, as she pats some space next to her. Doubt gnaws at you, but you move before you can lose your nerve. You'd feel like a gigantic scumbag if you left her, after giving your assent and everything. No, you won't run away! You'll charge head-first into this challenge!
My, my. What a courageous person you are. Wow, now even your subconscious is mocking you. A new low, even for you.
Shaking those thoughts off, you walk - nearly tripping over your own feet - over to Ivory's bed, gingerly lying down on the edges. Half of your body isn't even on the bed. Ivory tries to pull you closer in, but you remain steadfast. You will not be swayed in this matter. Ivory is an attractive woman whose shown you some modicum of attraction - you feel, as a healthy, hot-blooded young man, that your self-control is not up to par. What if you-!
Interrupting your thoughts, and clearly fed up with you stonewalling her attempts at pulling you closer, she leans over a little, gripping onto your newly-pilfered (you're gonna have to find the store that Neo, erm, acquired these from, and pay them off later) vest; hauling you over so that your half-lying over her. You let out a sound that's more feminine that you'd like to admit, scrambling to get away, but her arms have already locked around you - like Dust-steel chains that will never yield, no matter how hard you struggle.
And struggle you do - but Ivory, even in her half-asleep state, is rather strong; and you don't want to hurt her by trying too hard, so with a defeated groan - you give up on escaping. Ivory does a groggy little victory cheer, arms relaxing their deathgrip on you.
"Ah," she murmurs, eyes drifting closed - a sleepy half-smirk on her face. "Here's my teddy bear."
And then she brings you even closer, switching your positions and draping herself atop you. You flop around like a fish out of water, but her leverage is too great. Her legs entangle with yours, and she rests her chin on your shoulder. She squeezes you affectionately, as if to double-check that you're still here. She makes an appreciative sound when she feels your skin give.
You're well acquainted with being used as a teddy-bear - of course you are! You have seven sisters - but cuddling with a woman that's not part of your family? You're well too aware of your lack of underwear. Damn Neo, damn her to the darkest, dampest pits of hell. You almost wish you had worn the panties. Almost.
"Ivory," you hiss. "What-!"
But she's already asleep - the gentle rise and fall of her chest meeting yours in steady intervals. Fuck, and now you can't even complain, unless you want to wake Ivory up; you can't quite muster up the guts to do it, however. She looked so dreadfully, tired. Like she hadn't slept in days.
Days. Is that how long you've been gone for? Yet another thing that you've been forgetting to think about: how long exactly, have you been out for?
Ivory's grip relaxes around you; but she pushes even closer against you, knee brushing against a very interesting place. You gasp, and then kill the sound before it can stir her. Oh, you're totally dead if she wakes up right now. You shift backwards, making sure to place your pelvic region as far away from Ivory as possible. This leaves you in a rather interesting position however - you're digging your face into her shoulder, and her hands come up to the high of your back and pushes you in even further.
You stay like that, for what seems to you like an eternity - not daring to make a sound. You attempt to sleep, but find that you can't. You can do nothing but stoically weather the storm as Ivory rubs her body against yours like some sort of cat, and you attempt to keep your body as far as possible without waking the sleeping woman.
By sheer force of will, you manage to find sleep.