Things to Come
Khiver awoke thrashing violently, shouting a mouthful of nonsense and trying to figure out who or what nearby was trying to kill him. Much to his surprise, he was alone, and the light however bleak from the sky above was definitely not the roof of a train tunnel. The rotting apartment on the top floor of a building he was situated in had the ceiling caved in as well as most of one outer and one inner wall, and after making absolutely sure that he wasn't in any compromising position he checked himself for any problems.
There wasn't much to take inventory of, although he felt his arm start coming back from the pale color and numbness with the most painful case of pins and needles after removing the string he tied around it. His revolver slugs were few, but he had hardly used his crystal guns, so the clips full of dust marbles were plentiful. His Revolver itself was gone, likely in the tunnel if it hadn't been one big dream, and that hardly mattered. He knew where to get another soon enough... lastly, out of fear of it actually being gone, Khiver moved his tongue around. The piercing through it was still present, of that he had known from the start, but the small bead that capped the end of the bar underneath his tongue was what was important. It was still there... fortunately.
If he had lost that, recovery of it would have jumped to top priority.
Thinking back to the subterranean hideout of Mountain Glenn, he tried to think of what happened after Glynda unknowingly cut him off from Vale –though, knowing that woman, she might've closed it up even if she had seen him down there. He wasn't in a drug-addled stupor, so Saphriam and the sleep squad hadn't gotten him out. The White Fang would have shot him a couple hundred more times and left him down there. It wasn't as if the Grimm carried him out of that place on a stretcher... he had no way of knowing who may have helped him out of there, or what exactly had happened, without going back down. And that seemed like a terrible idea, even worse than stealing a fire truck.
Settling on Deus Ex Machina for reasoning, he dropped the thoughts and got to his feet, wriggling his still-waking arm and using the other to work the schnellphone. It didn't take long to get a response.
"You fell off the grid for awhile there." Came the voice of R.
"Yeah, the inside a' Mountain Glenn had shit for signal. Lots'a White Fang and Grimm, though." He paused. "Saphriam and her crazy-nabbers were waiting for me where I got in."
There was an uncomfortable silence. "I'm not the only one who can learn things I shouldn't know. You can't expect everything you say or do to remain a secret, even if there are so few to leak that info. An inconvenient satellite image could have screwed you for all we know."
"I know, I know... How'd the boys make out?"
R chuckled. "Safe and sound, with Galadrie. I'm impressed by that guy you brought into the mix; he's doing a hell of a job both at Beacon and Omeghis. Any normal person would have slipped by now and been either killed by DeCello or tied up by Ozpin."
"I have an eye for talent, you know." Khiver bragged. "So Tinder and her two little ones weren't down there; Raymond was running the show. It's probably obvious how that turned out on your end..."
"That is what we in the business call interception. Within minutes there were three teachers from Beacon, three teams, and the Atlesian's airships dropping lead and Paladins on that spot. Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury were also there; I would have called you to let you know, but you weren't reachable." R laughed a little again, somewhat out of character for him. "The monkey-boy and his blue-haired friend that had been following me all day even ran over, flashing their badges like it meant something. I don't think either of them even took a swing."
"Tinder and her lil' rascals were on site, you say?..."
There were some sounds of clicking and mild audio through another device, likely a recording R was going through. "Yes, killing the Grimm they were partially responsible for bringing in the first place. How to divert suspicion 101."
Khiver frowned, gritting his teeth a little. "So I came all the way out here looking for her, when they were lounging around in my backyard?"
"One better. They are currently esteemed guests of Beacon, as students from Haven."
"You're shitting me!" Khiver slapped a hand to his forehead. "That's why she's lookin' into Omeghis Corp.'s project-authorized members... She must'a met with Pierce, tried that googley-eyed move 'a hers. Would'a triggered his semblance... Of all the people that could've been doing what she's doing, it had to be a woman who could pull off the 'high school girl' look. Dammit."
R didn't laugh at that one; He was starting to sound a little more natural this way. "Your inside man is still inconspicuous, somehow. Now that I know the three are there, he could gather intel on them as well... apparently, something also happened to Pierce, but Beacon staff is being hush-hush about details. You should talk to the boy soon."
"Will do. Thanks." Khiver irritably hung up, starting the hike back toward where he hid his vehicle. There would be a number of small-time Grimm loitering and trying to chew their way in, as they loved to destroy both man and their creations, but it cost him little time before heading back to Vale.
"Amalgam-01, Validation of Initial Layer: Babylon. One-three-seven." Obaz recited the verbal bypass Forsythe had used on him, and felt his mind slip into the altered state of his semblance, the colors of Vale's backstreets looming ahead all but disappearing. He felt strangely aware compared to before; as the semblance had been activated in times of necessity, he felt no ability to question his actions; a singular train of thought would dominate the situation. As he had used the term one would say to him when they wanted control, that was what he acquired, but he had no idea what he was controlling; you could climb into the cockpit of a fighter jet and be in control, but the interface may as well have been an alien language if you weren't a pilot. This wasn't understanding, but an awareness that he could at least stop himself at anytime, and that while he couldn't change how he would act he could prepare against any mistakes that could be made this way. If Forsythe tried to use this code phrase, Obaz could beat him to it. If he attempted to take a friend's life in his semblance state, he could cease at once. Suddenly, this ability was a viably useful one.
The matter of who could be given authorization was beyond him, much like everything else. If he could figure out how to rescind that privilege from someone, say DeCello, that would have solved a number of problems. He would've also liked to change what his verbal bypass was, but that was also a lost cause. He hadn't even expected his own use of the sentence to do what it had, really, but had time to try... as little as this had accomplished, at least it was a start. The only thing he couldn't exactly improve up until now was his aura, as he had to use it on the Marreon to seal his semblance. With that out of the way, the new Marreon-38 and Quim-5 –his new leg –could be put to full use.
Marreon-38 needed far less aura circulation in order to function properly, and Quim-5 needed almost none in comparison as it didn't have to make up for multiple joints; only the ankle, as his toes were unnecessary. This had given him freedom to add features the limbs wouldn't normally possess, and as content as he wanted to be with that he couldn't be. The penalty that came with his newest bodily losses, piled on top of his original one, had been too steep; it even led to question if the change just made to his semblance would even matter before long...
Shaking the blue phosphor from his eyes, Obaz walked past the sliding doors of the second night club he'd ever been to, and what he hoped would be the last. Just as it had been described; white tile dance floor, bar on the side, multiple floors with glasslike pillars situated symmetrically and a DJ with a great big bear head on. Some things in this world had to be ludicrous, if only to stand out, and those things could only induce a migraine when the rotating wheel of flashing lights overhead tried to bring some kind of spice to the atmosphere. Skimming through the bodies lining the place, he skipped over men in suits until the much taller one came into view; facial hair, white shirt, black vest and pants, red tie; Obaz stepped next to who should have been Junior, speaking with the bartender first.
"Strawberry sunrise. No ice... add a parasol, please." He cast a knowing look at Junior, who had tensed up.
"The last time a blonde kid ordered that here, I had a ton of damages to pay off."
Obaz slid the drink away as it came, only having ordered it to make a jab at the man. "I realize. I am not here as she was, however; I only wanted to establish what... repercussions... there may be, if you choose not to take me seriously."
Junior eyed him. "Just keep your hands to yourself, and we can talk."
"I want to strike a deal. And I can assure you, there is something in it for you, so hear me out." Obaz reached into a shopping bag he'd brought along, and set down three external hard drives, as well as a memory chip used in scrolls. "These contain the last six years' worth of data from the Omeghis Corporation's main server; weapons designs, communications, financial transactions, operations details and so on. I understand you are the kind of person who knows who to sell this information to, and at high price. Am I right so far?"
Junior reached for one of the hard drives, and Obaz slapped a hand down on the table between he and the goods. "If you wish to check authenticity, we may go to a back room or the like where I can show you. Otherwise, take my word for it."
"... alright, then. What do you want in exchange?" the much larger man asked. Obaz held out one hand, toward the opposite side of the room; he had index and middle fingers out, pointed straight at two girls; one in a white dress, one in red. "Preferably, those twins." Junior's smirk said either he thought this was funny, had an idea of what Obaz 'wanted' them for, or both. The student frowned.
"Only temporarily, mind you, and not for what you're thinking. I have seen them fight, and want their services –along with however many of these simple suits you have on hand. I will let you judge what manpower you are of luxury to offer." There was another moment where the music took place of negotiations.
Junior played with the shades that had been at his collar. "If you tell me that you're robbing dust shops, I have no one to lend you."
"Nothing quite so illegal. In fact, the job should seem rather trivial to you; I want your subordinates to stake out a Diner. Lani's Plate."
"A Diner?" Junior gave Obaz a look of disbelief.
Obaz nodded, resting an arm on the counter but still choosing not to sit. Weiss' voice came up on the speaker system, reminiscent to them both for different reasons. "Here, we get into specifics; I do not know how long you will need to have a detail on the place, and the minimum I will settle to have either inside or nearby is ten. Those girls will either take the place of those men if you so choose, or they will answer to me for a time, and if any violence takes place at the Diner they will contact these numbers with messages stating such. Afterwards, they will act as best they can to neutralize the threat or minimize casualties. Personally speaking, I would like to have those two assist me in my own endeavors rather than keep eyes on the Plate, but these are your people. I may want to use them, but misuse would make a sore first impression for a clientele I hope to last."
Junior had a hand on his chin. "You're not half bad at this, kid... I think we have a deal." He waved the women over, who had been talking feverishly between themselves once they had been pointed out, and as they got closer they caught a bit of Obaz' gratitude; whom he didn't know as Melanie gave him a confrontational look.
"This is the guy from Narcissus' Lot, Miltia. I can tell."
"The guy that almost broke your leg?" The red twin asked. Obaz lifted the drink he had ordered before, and held it out to them, along with another he had just asked for when the two had begun their approach.
"If we could, I want to put that behind us. It hadn't been anything personal, and frankly, Mr. Tricks was a rat bastard anyway." They both shared a sideways glance before accepting the offered beverages. "If you still find yourselves unable to move on, whatever cut Junior intends to give you as payment for your help may be kept to himself. It would only be fair."
Junior laughed outright, which slowed to an awkward pace and finally stopped when the girls were glaring daggers. Taking their attention off their boss, hey each gave his free hand a shake in turn. "I don't forgive you for what happened at the Lot, but maybe you can make up for it this way."
"I agree, Mel. We should be the first people to get this guy's money..." Obaz fought the distasteful expression that nearly brought about, maintaining his stoicism as always.
Lastly, he shook hands with Junior. "A pleasure doing business with you, then. Speak with Hank Witzer if you need to contact me again. Our meetings will always be in person."
As Obaz left the club, he was content with how well the first of two propositions had gone.
The next rendezvous was coming up, but Obaz had a last stop he intended to make first. Turning down the hall of the dormitory building, he stopped in front of the door to team RWBY's room, making no move yet to knock or try the knob. He stood there, thinking, tapping his leg in the usual erratic fashion and trying to come up with what exactly he could say. It was an important matter, of course. How could he put this into words? Within moments he heard Yang's cheery voice saying something to her sister, incoherent through the door between them, and he sighed. There was literally no way for him to convey what he wanted to tell her; she would have to be shown, and it couldn't be now.
Obaz slipped the ever-present cap off his head, hung it on their doorknob, and headed for the courtyard.
Obaz wandered to the path leading out of Beacon, ill populated by students or anyone for that matter this time of day. Here, Emerald was waiting with her arms folded. "There you are... you know, women will usually give you their number if you use a little charm. There was no need to steal it from me."
"Plenty of stealing took place at that dance. Do not play innocent; it does not suit you." She pouted at him. "The black-haired one. Where is she?"
"Take my number to ask my friend out here? Do you even have a heart?" His stony disposition didn't waver, and she shook her head. "Why the fixation, Obaz?"
He frowned at her. "Your body language together suggests a submissive relationship rather than equality. Even if she were the leader to your team, it would not be quite so apparent. With Mercury's inclusion, she appears to be your superior of an entirely different nature, and while it crossed my mind to get what I want through you the likelihood of meeting success that way would be far less. I do not know where you are on the food chain, Emerald, only that she is a link above you; therefore, she would be the one to make a request of."
"My, my, my. Aren't you just tenacious..." The black-haired acquaintance of Emerald's was coming from Beacon's direction, though he was certain she'd been near enough from the beginning. "Say I entertain your wild speculations, Obaz. What would you want to 'request' of me?" He turned to face the woman, still a little unnerved by her stare.
"The three of you are human enough, but I have reason to believe you have connections among the White Fang. I need to speak with someone of their higher ranks; someone the group as a whole listens to." Emerald gave him a poorly faked look of surprise.
"Oh, Obaz! You think we're involved with the –" With a quick gesture, he shut her up.
"I need no theatrics, thank you. All I want is cooperation, and if I do not get it, I will simply find another way, no hard feelings. I need no more enemies than I already have; making ones so close to home would be idiocy... So, will you give me the means to work with them or not?"
|And that is IT for Volume 2. See you all here a week or two before Volume 3's release... – Aldiev.|
