Sorry for the wait, but here it is! Number 9! Please enjoy!*Bows and walks away*
Exiting the automatic doors in front of the towering "Hotel Sanctuary", Sparta stretched lazily as he turned to Michelle. "Is it dinner time yet?"
"No," she said with a sigh. "For the love of- we were going to see our arms dealer? Remember?"
"Ah, right!" he said, snapping his fingers. He nodded his head. "Alright then, let's go. I was thinking pasta for dinner by the way."
"Is it because pasta is your favorite food?"
"No, that belong to ice cream or mac and cheese, I dunno which of them. I'm just in a pasta mood." He shrugged and smiled wide. "Nothing wrong with that is there?"
"Um…no, I guess not," she said with an indifferent shrug. She put a hand over her chest, feeling her heart speed up. That's weird…I wasn't exercising recently. It's probably nothing.
The two of them began walking down the road, Sparta leading the way as they entered the business district. Sparta kept on walking, taking them out of the business district into the civilian one. When he entered it he stopped walking, able to do so as there was less traffic on the sidewalks than in the business side of town.
"Um…where are we?" he asked nervously, turning to Michelle with a nervous chuckle. "I'm kinda lost…I thought it was here, but I don't see it."
Michelle stormed up to him and smacked him on the back of his head. "I was following you because I thought you knew the direction!" she growled. "Why have you been leading us?"
"Heh heh, sorry," he said, taking a step back. Raising his hands in defense he admitted, "Well you know, I've never really been to the place, but I do have the address."
"Why didn't you say anything?!" she screamed at him, yanking out her scroll as she pulled out a map of Vale on it. "Give me the place's address."
"Sorry…" he mumbled, handing her the slip of paper. "Here."
She quickly typed it into her scroll and did a 180 turn. "we passed it idiot."
"Sorry…" he mumbled again, his ears hanging low, like a child. "Heh heh…I blame the drugs they had me on in the hospital."
"Shut up." She led them to a shop named, "Guns Galore," and opened the front door, the bell ringing. As they walked in, they seemed to have a chosen a bad time. The owner, a relatively old man, in his late 60s with graying hair and two curling ram horns, was being robbed by a bunch from the White Fang. He looked nervously as the 5 Faunus with guns looked back at the intruders.
Sparta himself was caught off guard, and neither group did much of anything until one of them coughed. The guns came up and pointed at them, one of the five holding onto the keys to the locked gun cabinets. "Get over here!" One of them called out, thinking they were civilians. "You're gonna be our hostages for this operation!"
Michelle looked at Sparta, who nodded, winking at her. He had a plan formulating in his head and wanted them to go along with them for now. The two of them began walking forward slowly, hands raised over their heads as they were told to do so. As they got closer, Sparta said softly, "You know, not only hands can hurt a person."
The soldier looked confused at first before his jaw dropped, a soft squeak coming from his lips as he crumpled to the ground, his crotch having the mark from Sparta's sneaker.
Before the next soldier could react, Sparta swung his foot into his neck, sending him flying and crashing into a display case, knocked out. The other three took note of him and pointed their guns at him, but he still had his hands up.
"I'm just listening," he chuckled. "Don't get mad at me. I'm following your very broad orders."
The others clearly weren't entertained by his words, but they didn't notice the figure behind them. "Don't you remember?" he asked them, keeping their attention on him. "I wasn't the only one here, was I?"
It was too late for two of them. Michelle punched two of them in the back of their heads, knocking them out. Sparta merely ran forward as the other turned to look at Michelle, raising his gun. A quick swift kick to his balls brought him to the ground.
He lowered his hand and smiled at Michelle, raising a hand. "C'mon, that was pretty great."
"It was," she said, returning it with a small chuckle. Turning to the older man she stuck out her hand, "I'm Michelle, he's Sparta. We came to ask if we could order a shipment of guns to Chappar."
"Hey," Sparta protested, running up to the man at the table. "It's my job to do the sweet talking!" he grinned at him. "So as she said, "I'm Sparta. I'm the leader of that Faunus colony you've no doubt heard of," he said with a small bow. "May we purchase some guns for a fellow Faunus like yourself?"
He chuckled at the two of them. "Are you perhaps a couple?"
"No!" They said together, Sparta running a hand through his blonde hair, caressing his cat ears. "Why does everyone think that? Actually…why were those guys robbing you?" he asked, curious. "Why would they rob another Faunus?"
"Stop getting distracted," she hissed into his ear, but he had already gotten the older man talking.
"They didn't take too kindly to when I declined to fund their organization with these," he said, gesturing to the guns. "But I have heard of Chappar. I have no problem helping a group like that." He smiled wide. "You'd be surprised how many of us would be more than eager to fund a group like yours. It's been a while since we've seen some kind of peaceful group trying to help the Faunus. What do you need them for, might I ask?"
"Grimm," Sparta said, becoming serious when it came to business talk. "And from other groups. We can't have Purity or the White Fang attacking us and be completely unguarded."
"Currently," Michelle elaborated, pointing to Sparta. "He's our best, more or less our only, fighter. We had to hire some Faunus Hunters to protect us."
The man's brow furrowed, deep in thought. "What was your name again young sir? Sparta wasn't it?"
"Huh? Oh yeah…" Sparta tilted his head. "Why? Have you heard of me?"
"Are you perhaps Iron Shield Sparta?" he asked, scratching his head. "My granddaughter is a huge fan of yours."
"Huh?" he stared in surprise. "I am Iron Shield Sparta… but…I have fans?!" He seemed more shocked than appreciative of the fact, his eyes wide in surprise. "When did I get fans?"
"Didn't you know?" Michelle asked, a small grin on her face. "Some of the most well known hunters from each school have their own fan clubs. You're no exception you know. I've monetized it before."
He was still shocked, and the older man couldn't help but chuckle at his completely shocked expression. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a photo of Sparta from when he was in beacon. He was younger and more reckless, a wild grin on his face. "If you could sign it for me, I'd be very appreciative. It'd be a great present for her, after all, her birthday's soon."
"Huh? Yeah sure…just…wow…I have fans," he mused, still shocked. He grabbed it and quickly made his signature on the bottom. He was caught off guard as he saw a flash, looking up to see the man holding his scroll, a small smile on his face.
"To prove you were actually here," he explained simply.
"Ah, okay." On the back, he wrote a simply Happy Birthday message, wishing her good luck. He handed it back to him and grinned. "There ya go."
"Alright that's sweet and all," Michelle said, putting a hand on the table to get their attention. "But we have to get to places, get some dinner and all." She looked up at him. "will you sell us guns?"
"I will, is there anything you want in particular?" he asked, curious. "I have a little bit of everything."
"I want whatever is military grade," she said simply. "And two Gatling guns. Everything else I want just to be strong, large weapons, or strong small weapons. We need weapons with a punch to them."
He scribbled some notes down and nodded. "Alright. I can do that. Anything else?"
Michelle nodded. "Ammo. We need ammunition for all of these guns. I want at least 100,000 rounds for the guns, and 20 guns, not including the Gatling guns. 10 light guns and 10 big ones would be nice."
"I can do that. Anything else?"
"200 rockets and 10 rocket launchers in case we get a nevermore or bullhead attacking us."
"100 anti-air and 100 normal missiles then?" he asked.
"Sure." She looked and watched him write down notes on a piece of paper. He slid it over to her and her eyes went wide at the price. "Can we have a bit of a discount?"
"I do owe you for saving my store and for the present. How about…" the man seemed to think over it. "10%?"
"30"
"15"
"20"
"Deal," the man said, offering a hand to Michelle first which she took and squeezed, shaking with him. He then turned to Sparta and did the same, each sharing a smile. "Thanks again for the signature and everything, I'm really thankful for it."
"Heh heh, well thanks for the 20% off." Sparta opened his scroll. "You have my number right?" The man nodded. "Call me if you have any trouble. I'll be in Vale for now, so you can call me if there are any further problems with the White Fang."
He smiled and nodded in thanks. "Also," Sparta continued. "How long until the shipment of weapons can be made ready?"
"It should only take a day or two at most," he said, still smiling. "Most of it I have here. The rest I can order from my own suppliers, like the ammo. They should have it in a nearby warehouse."
"Alright…well then, business is done," Michelle said, looking over at Sparta. "Shall we go?"
He nodded and turned to leave. "Thanks again for the deal!" he said to him.
The old man rapped on the wooden table, getting their attention. "One second young man." He turned to walk away, heading into a backroom. Sparta and Michelle shared a confused look, but they waited. The man returned with several canisters and some clips. He threw them through the air, Sparta barely catching them.
Staring at them for a few seconds, he realized what they were. "Dust rounds?"
"You're a hunter," the man said with a smile. "That shield of yours on your back, it's your weapon isn't it?" Sparta simply nodded, the man smiling wider. "I knew it. You can have those as a gift for having given me such a great gift for my granddaughter."
"Ah, but it was a gift," Sparta protested, looking at the Dust rounds with a small, sad smile. "I shouldn't have a reward for a gift."
"Then consider it just another gift for your work trying to help the Faunus," he said with a chuckle. "So don't worry about it young man. Now if you excuse me, I need to call the cops for these knocked out goons."
"Alright. Have a nice day then," Sparta said as he turned to leave. The bell rang again as he left through the door, Michelle following soon after him, waving to the man.
"He was nice," Michelle said simply as they left. "It's a shame that even nice people like him are getting robbed by the White Fang."
"They rob and steal from everyone not a part of their terrorist effort," he grumbled. Sparta shook his head, returning to his normal, chipper self. "Anyway, time for din din right?"
"You mean dinner?" Sparta nodded. "Yeah sure…know anywhere good?"
"I know a few romantic-ish places," he said with a shrug. "But nothing for a normal dinner. Not really anyway. I mean I know a few fast food places, but I want something better than that."
"Romantic places?" Michelle asked with a chuckle. "Why do you know places like that? Have a lover or something?"
"Had…" Sparta's face became burdened with sadness so quickly, Michelle wondered for a moment if the joy she saw was an act. But as if the sadness was a ghost, it vanished to see him smiling again. "Anyway! I just remembered this really good noodles place that I used to visit often. It was a small shop, so I wouldn't be surprised if it was gone now, but we should still check it out!"
I wonder if we should get a psychologist for him, Michelle thought to herself. On the outside she was smiling and nodding, allowing him to lead her. Something seems wrong with him… she let out a small groan. I wish I knew what the hell happened at the stripper place! My gut is screaming it has something to do with it.
Stopping outside a stand, he reached out and raised the red curtain that blocked the doorway. "Hello?"
A younger man, who seemed to be in his late 20s, early 30s, stood behind a counter. "Ah, welcome!" he said cheerfully.
Behind Sparta, Michelle came in and looked around. There were four booths against the walls. A hallway to the side led to a bathroom and a door to get into where the young man was. Where the man was, there were several cookers, a fridge, and a large stove. A dozen stools circled the young man and his workstation. An older man seemed to be in the back, working on making meals for the others.
Those people were the 3 men and 2 women sitting on the stools. Sparta smiled at the young man and pointed to a booth. "Mind if we sit there?"
"No, please go ahead," he said cheerfully. Sparta sat down with michelle across from him, both of them grabbing a menu.
"They added some things," he said with a small chuckle. "I wouldn't be surprised if he went to a culinary school or something."
"Who? Do you know the young man?" she asked, surprised.
"Nope, but I know the older man," he said with a small grin. "He's cooked me many a meal in the past. I've talked to him in the past, and he's always talked about his grandson who was going to come and help him when he was ready to."
"Ah, well then…" she looked up at him. "How do we order?"
"Tell me what you want," Sparta said with a smile. "I'll take it up to him and order."*
"I want the Seafood Special," she said with a small smile. "What are you getting?"
"I'm getting my personal favorite, Super Chicken Teriyaki!" he said, his ears twitching happily. "If they kept the recipe the same, then it should be de-li-cious!"
He went up to the young man and ordered his meal. "Yo gramps!" Sparta called out, getting his attention. "Remember me? Sparta?"
"I do," the older man said, slowly walking over to him with a smile. "You did come here every day after all."
"Well maybe not everyday…"
"Nope, everyday. I can guarantee you that much." The old man looked back at him. "Oh… you have a new lover?" he let out a small sigh. "I thought the other one was a much better fit for you."
Michelle could see his shoulders tense when the older man spoke. He mumbled something too quietly for her to hear, and the older man's eyes went wide. "Oh…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say something that would-"
"It's alright," he said with a small chuckle. "But we're not like that anyway." Sparta's normal voice returned. "Anyway, I'm in own for now, so I'd figure I'd come and visit."
"Ah yes," the older man said. "You're the one who caused such a stir and made that new town? Faunus only correct?"
"Heh heh," Sparta said with a small smile. "Well-"
Michelle stopped paying attention as the talking became about what Sparta had done. She noticed that the son was listening in, as were the others that were sitting on stools. Sparta was eventually handed the two, hot bowls and he smiled to the younger man, thanking him.
Placing the bowl in front of Michelle, she was startled out of her thoughts. "Did I interrupt something important?" Sparta asked with a small chuckle. "Dig in. It's on me."
"Thanks…" Michelle muttered, still lost in thought. Ugh…I wanna ask him but I have a feeling he'll get mad…oh well…might as well eat.
She dug in, surprised that it was so good. She looked up to see Sparta on cloud nine, enjoying his noodles to the full extent. She dug in, savoring the seafood to the full extent. As they ate, both were oblivious to the movement of the other customers.
As they ate, two of the men that had been sitting there, quietly, drinking sake, had walked over. One slammed his fist on the table, snapping Michelle to attention. "Hey yoush animalch," he slurred. "Get your assches out of here." He hiccupped. "Or elsche."
Michelle was surprised at this, and looked at the owner and his grandson, both looking at them wordily. She turned and looked at Sparta and sweat dropped. He was still savoring his meal! He was blissfully unaware of the drunks. He's a first class idiot.
"Ey you!" the other one snarled at Sparta. "Listeh to ush!" He reached out and smacked Sparta bowl away, sending it flying. It crashed into the wall, the contents splattering onto the wall. The bowl itself then shattered into pieces, porcelain flying around.
Sparta sat stock still for a few moments before he looked up at the man. "Yes? I'm listening to you now," he said through clenched teeth, his eyes betraying how angry he was.
"Get your assches out of her'" the first drunk said. "We don't like your kind here!"
Sparta stood up and looked back at the owner. "Hey gramps!" The man looked him in the eyes. "Call the cops and two ambos. Also, how much wood a wall cost?"
"A wall?" He looked at him, confused. "Maybe 1,000 lein?"
He shared a look with Michelle who just nodded. "Alright. Get on that phone call then. I got these two to take care of." The drunks stared down at him, confused, until they felt a hand on each collar. "Alley-oop!"
Lifting them both, he sent them crashing through a wall, into the street. "Aw…" he whined. "I couldn't send them flying. I'm really out of shape…stupid injuries," he grumbled.
At the same time the two drunks had stood up, fists in the air. Without saying much besides growling like animals, they rushed him, fists swinging. Two simple kicks to their balls rendered them useless, crying on the ground as they whimpered like animals.
Sparta, eyes still filled with fury continued to beat their crotches until both passed out, leaving them with damaged, if not destroyed balls. "Now bastards like them can't reproduce!" he said cheerfully to nobody in particular.
Turning around he walked in to see Michelle writing a check to the younger man while the older one called for the ambulances. The other customers had all fled, probably scared of Sparta.
"Sorry about that gramps!" he said, seeing him hang up. "I don't mean to ruin your business, but I hate people like that."
"We do too," he said, patting his grandson's shoulder. "But we didn't know they were like that until now. It might have been just the booze, but it's no excuse. I owe you a meal a well, don't I?"
"If you wouldn't mind," Sparta said with a chuckle. "I never did get to finish mine."
Michelle grabbed her bowl in the meantime. "Well, at least we get to enjoy good food out of it all."
Sparta smiled in agreement as he sat back down in the booth that now had a wall missing. "I have a feeling I'll have some questions to answer for the cops," he said with a soft chuckle.
After a sort interview with the cops and a meal finished, Michelle and Sparta said goodnight to the gramps and his grandson, turning to walk to the hotel. This time Michelle led so that they wouldn't get lost.
"That was an eventful afternoon wasn't it?" Sparta asked her, the broken moon rising over the horizon. "Are you gonna yell at me for wasting the money?"
"No, not really," she said with a shrug. "I mean it's from your bank account, so who cares?"
"Hey wait what?!" he stared at her in surprise. "How do you have my bank info?"
"Um…I do all of the finances for you and for the city." She shrugged. "Come with the job I guess? I know yours by heart due to the amount of money you've spent on the city personally."
"Ah well, yeah," He smiled softly and patted her head. "You're an important player in the grand scheme of things, ya know that?"
"I figured as much. You'd be screwed without me," she said, grinning up at him. "And I'm not a child."
"Sorry." Sparta withdrew his hand, the two of them walking on in silence until they reached the hotel. They went up the elevator, each heading to their separate rooms. "So…see ya tomorrow."
"See ya. Sleep well," Michelle said before closing her door.
Sparta did the same and flopped into bed, fully dressed. Take me sleep for the love of everything holy before I think of her some more, he thought, sleep coming to him slowly but surely.
Who is it that keeps on popping up? What the hell happened at a stripper's place that is oh so terrible? I dunno. Well I do know, you don't though~! :3 I will tease this for a while before saying. Anyway, follow and fav for more, and review if you wanna. Ciao!
