Dubious Allies
[Jaune's House]
"Hahh..." Jaune sighed, flopping down onto the couch as he idly checked the time. The clock informed him that it was just before midnight. "Well, that was a long day..."
"A-yahhh-greed..." Velvet replied, hiding a yawn behind her hand. She sat next to Jaune, not much more than a friendly distance between them.
"And tomorrow is going to be worse" Jaune continued, checking the calendar on his phone and grimacing.
"More high-society events?" Velvet asked, glancing at the screen.
"Bachelor party arrangements with Cardin, followed by wedding planning with my family" Jaune replied. "The only bright side is that Sun, Yang, and I are slated to rescue those faunus tomorrow night." Velvet caught the hint of sadness in his voice, the shadow of a melancholy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Jaune caught her looking and his gaze softened knowingly.
"Tomorrow will be my last night as Paladin" he said. "After that, I'll be under my father's eye until the wedding, and then there will be the honeymoon and then..." He trailed off, gazing up at the ceiling.
"And then married life" Velvet finished simply. Jaune nodded.
"I guess it still hasn't fully hit me" he admitted quietly, still looking up. "I've been living this double life for so long that I think that I came to expect it would last forever." Velvet nodded, something in his tone told her that he just needed to talk.
"It obviously couldn't but... there was always the hope, right?" he turned and smiled weakly at her, and she noticed that his melancholy had deepened. He sighed and again let his head tilt back.
"It's just, well, I know that I'll still have good relationships with Qrow and the rest" he said. "But I don't know about you."
"Me?" Velvet asked, surprised.
"Yes" Jaune replied. "You. Think about it. I am about to become one of the world's most prominent figures, the son of the man who defeated the White Fang wed to the daughter of the man who bankrolled the whole affair. It will be expected that we will employ and retain a multitude of servants and slaves, and my public life will inevitably eat into whatever time I have to call my own." He gently rested one of his hands on Velvet's, dropping his head and meeting her gaze.
"I don't want to become my father" he said. "I don't want to become Astor, or Weiss, or anyone else like them. Yet, living in that environment day after day..." He trailed off again, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully.
"You don't know what will happen" Velvet finished for him. "And you're scared that, in developing the manners of the society from which you've been running, you'll push away your true friends, including me."
"Yes" Jaune agreed.
"You won't" Velvet stated. "I may have only known you for a few weeks, Jaune, but I do know that you're stronger than that. No one who thought that they would cave to the whims of society would sneak out at night and commit acts of vigilante justice, yet you do. No one who put any stock in the idea that faunus equality should be more than a long-forgotten ideal would have sent so many to hide in Atlas, yet you do. No one who truly believed that the evils of the past were justified would even contemplate such a life as the one you lead here in the poorest section of Vale. You have brought hope and light to too many to simply give up, Jaune. And I've seen you do it too often to allow you to give up." She paused, her voice unexpectedly choking on her.
"Alright" Jaune said, and Velvet could hear renewed conviction. "I won't give up, and I won't give in. But that doesn't answer my original question."
"Hmm?" Velvet asked.
"How will you take my new position in life?" Jaune clarified. "We won't be able to share our friendship like this anymore. We will become master and slave, and with a touch of luck, you might even be able to keep your current status as my personal slave. Everything will be different, and not for the better." Velvet took her time answering, trying to walk the thin line between honesty and encouragement.
"I'm not sure" she admitted, and Jaune's expression grew fixed. "But what I do know is this: you gave me a home. You gave me new clothes, a warm place to sleep, good food, and an easy life. You treated me not as someone beneath you, but as someone equal to you. You're too kind to change, Jaune, and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise." Velvet quietly shifted until she was right next to Jaune, resting her head on his shoulder.
"So no matter how I take it" she continued. "No matter what happens, I'll always be by your side." She felt Jaune's arm wrap slowly around her waist, and she leaned further into his embrace. They simply sat there for a while, enjoying each other's company and staring into the distance, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Neither noticed as they gently drifted off to sleep, unaware that their futures were about to take a dramatic turn.
[Downtown Vale, 9:00AM]
"Good morning" Jaune politely greeted, taking his seat across from Cardin at an upscale restaurant that he hadn't bothered to learn the name of.
"Morning" Cardin grinned, sliding a cup of coffee across the table. "Enjoy one of your last nights as an unfettered man?"
"Slept like a rock" Jaune replied, deliberately ignoring Cardin's suggestive tone as he took a sip of the coffee. "And what's this about 'one of my last nights'? I thought that the party was next week?"
"The date got changed" Cardin said, shrugging as he opened the menu. "Your dad pulled some strings and got everything set up for tomorrow." Jaune nearly choked on his coffee.
"Why" he said once he recovered, grabbing a napkin. "Does nobody ever tell me these things?"
"I know, right?" Cardin agreed, taking his eyes off of the menu long enough to slide a piece of paper towards Jaune. "He basically took over all the planning and left us with nothing to do except learn the schedule." Jaune took a look at it, quickly picking out and memorizing the various times and guest names it contained.
"So, what was the point of even having this meeting?" Jaune asked, taking another sip of the coffee and glancing up at Cardin.
"I still have some authority over the proceedings, you know" Cardin grinned. "So if you have any requests, I can see to it that they happen. For example, if you wanted some...exotic, shall we say, dancers? I could-"
"So, there was no point" Jaune coolly interrupted, setting down his now-empty coffee cup.
"C'mon, man" Cardin said, interrupting Jaune as he rose. "Why don't you live a little? It's not like you'll get in trouble for it, 'boys will be boys', after all."
Jaune looked down at Cardin, the brown-haired boy smiling a greasy smile back up at him. He just barely suppressed a growl at the unwanted reminder of another of high society's 'benefits'. As the son of one of the richest and most influential men on the planet, nobody would bat an eye if he was discovered to have engaged in an affair or hired prostitutes and so forth. As Cardin said, the whole situation would be smoothed over with the phrase 'boys will be boys'. In fact, it would be almost suspicious if he didn't engage in at least one affair while he was young and virile. He knew that Cardin had taken advantage of his own elevated social standing to get away with such acts before, but he had no interest in doing so himself. Still, knowing Cardin as he did, he was certain that prostitutes would find their way into the party regardless of whether he said yes or no.
"Do what you want" he said, tossing a few lien onto the table to pay for his coffee. "It's not like this is actually my party, anyway."
"You won't regret it" Cardin called after him, his grin openly lecherous as he returned to glancing over the menu.
Whatever... Jaune thought to himself, walking slowly back to his house. Just take everything one day at a time, right?
[The Beacon Tavern, 12:45PM]
Blake was still sitting at the bar, slowly chewing on the last few bites of her tuna melt as a brunette girl, introduced as Ruby, talked incessantly. It wasn't that she minded the younger girl's conversation, nor did she care that it was rather one sided, she just wished that she actually understood what Ruby was going on about. It seemed as though every other word implied a technical knowledge far beyond Blake's own, and every sentence spoke of an overwhelming interest in both digital and physical technology. The younger girl had been called out to keep Blake company after Sun had returned to the kitchen to clean and Yang had walked out the front door to take her break. Regardless, Blake had no intention of staying longer than it took to finish her sandwich.
"Thank you" she said, interrupting Ruby mid-sentence and standing up. "I believe this will cover the bill?"
"Indeed!" Ruby replied, instantly changing course and rapidly counting out her change. "But are you sure you don't want a dessert? We have the most amazing cookies here! In fact-"
"No, thank you" Blake broke in, taking her change. "I need to get going."
"Okay!" Ruby cheered, waving. "Have a nice day!"
Blake suppressed a small smile as she exited the bar, Ruby's enthusiasm had been infectious. Now, all she had to do was find Bronzewing...
[The Kitchen...]
"Are you sure?" Yang said quietly, leaning in towards Sun.
"I'm about ninety percent positive" Sun replied, also keeping his voice down. "She looks almost exactly like Belladonna, minus the makeup and ears, of course."
"And that bow..." Yang trailed off, seeing what Sun was getting at. "But how would she have escaped?"
"Probably at the same time we busted Miltiades out" Sun suggested. "But it doesn't really matter. The real question is if we should try to recruit her again."
"I don't know" Yang said, looking down in thought. "On the one hand, we could gain an ally. On the other, we could be totally mistaken, either in her identity or her loyalty, and end up with a horribly messy situation on our hands."
"Should we ask Qrow?" Sun asked.
"Whatever you're going to do" Ruby interrupted, flickering into the kitchen with a trail of rose petals. "Do it fast, she just left the bar."
"I'll follow her" Sun decided. "If she isn't who we think she is, then she'll have some legitimate business in the district. If not, however..."
"You could catch her in the act" Yang finished for him. "Either way, we at least don't lose. Go, now, I'll take care of the kitchen." Without a second of hesitation, Sun dashed out the back door.
[Nondescript apartment building, Red Light District 1:00PM]
"Hmm..." Blake mused, looking up at the building in front of her.
It was essentially a tenement, though it looked as if at least some care had gone into keeping it worthy of human habitation. It was here, supposedly, that Bronzewing dealt in information. Shrugging off her hesitation, Blake crossed the street and stepped inside. The building had a plain foyer, consisting only of a few communal coat racks, stairways to the upper floors, and a corridor that apparently led to the first floor apartments. A rather stoned-looking man sat on a chair behind what appeared to be a makeshift welcome desk, his feet up as he tiredly read a newspaper. Deciding that some direction was better than knocking on every door, Blake approached him.
"Excuse me" she said, rapping the table slightly when he did not respond. "I'm looking for one Dove Bronzewing."
"Isn' erryone?" the man slurred, glancing sluggishly up at her with bloodshot eyes. "But... he ain't got no appointments today..." Blake shoved his feet off the table with one hand and grasped his collar with the other, pulling him very nearly out of his chair as she lined his eyes up with hers.
"Bronzewing" she said, her expression stern and her tone clearly stating that she would take no nonsense.
"I told you..." the man said, his stoned brain not fully comprehending his situation. Blake calmly drew the pistol from under her jacket and released the safety, giving him a look that said 'one last chance'.
"Room 54, down the hall on the left" the man instantly replied, breaking out into a sweat and suddenly looking a lot less stoned as the gun gently prodded his ribs.
"Thank you" Blake said, lowering the gun and dropping the inept doorman back into his seat as she made her way down the hall.
She didn't bother knocking. Her faunus hearing could clearly make out the sounds of two people engaged in intimate activities and, deciding that Bronzewing's personal privacy meant nothing to her, she drew her foot back and kicked the door in with a surge of aura. Leveling the gun in front of her, she strode into the apartment with her face set into a grim scowl. It was a spacious, one room affair, with a small kitchenette overlooking the combined living/bedroom. Bronzewing was underneath the sheets with someone else, slowly turning to face Blake with a look of confusion that rapidly gave way to fear when he saw the firearm aimed at his head. He scrambled desperately and managed to pull his partner, an unknown faunus prostitute, in front of him as a body shield. Seeing him reaching for the bedside table, Blake shifted her aim and squeezed the trigger. The bullet kicked up splinters from the table, and the show of force caused Bronzewing to quickly retract his hand and cower behind his improvised shield. The faunus girl tugged uselessly at Bronzewing's chokehold, looking up at Blake with fear in her eyes as she was dragged towards the edge of the bed. Blake sprinted the last few meters to the bed and roughly broke Bronzewing's hold, tossing the girl aside and shoving the gun in his face.
"You're going to sing for me" she threatened, maneuvering the criminal onto his stomach and locking his arm in place before glancing over at the prostitute. "And you are going to sit in the corner and stay quiet."
"Fuck you!" Bronzewing growled, his voice muffled from his face being driven into the mattress. Blake idly jammed the gun into his neck and dramatically pulled the hammer back, a small grin marring her scowl as he flinched.
"Lie Ren" she stated flatly. "Talk."
"I know nothin' about this 'Ren' guy" Bronzewing replied. "But from the name, he's from the Lie Clan of Haven, right?"
"Yes" Blake said, shoving the gun into him a little harder to emphasize her next point. "Any particular reason the Lie's want you dead?"
"Wait, you don't mean..." Bronzewing's voice trailed off before returning with great terror. "Oh fuck! Oh FUCKOH-"
"Less swearing" Blake growled, applying a touch more pressure to his arm. "More talking."
"It was just before the war" Bronzewing said, panic much in evidence. "At the time, it seemed like it was just another job, you know? A simple pick-up and drop-off, happens all the time. I was to pick up a duffel bag at Vale International, smuggle it into Haven, and drop it off in a rental locker. Simple right? Well, that bag was heavy and clicked and clanked like there were guns inside, so outta curiosity I stake the locker out, and some scary-ass lookin bull faunus is the guy who comes to retrieve it, White Fang emblem and everything. And I'm like, 'Dove you get yourself outta Haven right now, cause shit is about to go down'. So, I..."
As Bronzewing rambled on about his escape from Haven and the subsequent events, Blake had long since figured the link between Ren and this two-bit criminal. He had smuggled Adam's gear into Haven, gear that her former partner had then used to assault the Lie Clan as part of Day Zero. While this was logical enough, Blake wondered why she had been tasked with hunting down and killing this seemingly inconsequential person. Even as a test of her skill, condemning this man to die seemed to be a bit of a stretch. Still, her deal with Ren was too tantalizing to jeopardize, and she made up her mind with little hesitation.
"I hope you believe in an afterlife" she said, repositioning the gun to the base of Bronzewing's neck.
"You'll regret pulling that trigger" a new but familiar voice came, and Blake spun around to aim at the newcomer. He was dressed in a very familiar looking dress shirt and a pair of dress slacks, the waist a little low to accommodate the monkey tail that swung behind him. A shock of unruly blond hair sat atop a face she recognized at once.
"Easy there, Belladonna" Sun continued, holding his ground despite the gun aimed at his chest. "This doesn't have to end in violence."
"How do you know my name?" Blake demanded, confused.
"I was the guy who pulled you out of Junior's" Sun explained, pulling his second pair of nunchaku from his jeans and locking them into a staff with a twirl. Blake simply stared, her brain slowly processing the strange turn of events. Sun, the flirtatious chef who had prepared the tuna melt she had just eaten, was a monkey faunus. Fair enough, the scents of the bar were more than enough to have overpowered her sense of smell, and that tail looked like it would easily slide under his shirt. He had a pair of nunchaku that served as firearms, clubs, and a staff. Also fair, seeing as her original weapon had served as a kusarigama, ninjato, and pistol, and the sheath had doubled as a cleaver. To top it all off, she remembered the strange look he had given her when he had first entered the bar.
"Okay..." Blake said, idly tightening her grip on Bronzewing. "Let's say I believe you. What happens next?"
"I would tell you that I am part of a group of vigilantes devoted to faunus equality" Sun replied, cautiously stepping forward. "And I would extend you an invitation to join us."
"And I'm supposed to believe that because?" Blake asked.
"Because I'm taking this faunus back with me" Sun said, unbuttoning his shirt and lending it to the cowering faunus girl who, true to Blake's command, had not moved from the corner.
"Don't touch..." Blake began angrily.
"We're all faunus here" Sun broke in, and Blake restrained herself from pulling the trigger. "And the doorman won't stay unconscious forever. When he wakes up, he's going to sound the alarm."
"You know this why?"
"My girlfriend" Sun grimaced, helping the faunus girl to her feet. "She comes here every now and then to hit up information brokers. Occasionally, she does a lot more actual hitting than metaphorical."
"I see..." Blake drawled, not fully convinced.
"Look, you don't have to believe me" Sun said, looking at the window as the sound of someone angrily swearing came down the hall. "But I've dealt with Ren before. If you stay with him, you'll become a heartless killing machine just like him. If you want to be on the right side of history, the side of righteousness, then come back to the bar. I'll be waiting."
Without further comment, he broke the window with his staff and hopped out, turning to carefully lift the faunus girl after him. Blake turned her attention back to Bronzewing as the swearing in the hallway grew louder, now accompanied by the pounding of boots. Her teeth ground tightly together even as her hand remained rock steady, her eyes still glancing after the rapidly disappearing silhouette of Sun. Bronzewing sniveled beneath her, knowing that his life hung in the balance. She growled, angry that a totally unknown stranger had so suddenly shaken her desire to kill. She certainly wanted vengeance, that was beyond doubt, but she also could not deny her curiosity about Sun. He had been accompanied that night by another man, a human man in black, and they had worked together as a team to bring her back. Faded memories of old playmates and better times briefly surfaced in her mind, breaking through the crust of hate and training that had long since settled over her thoughts. Hearing surprised shouts at the doorway behind her, Blake knew that she had no time left to ponder, she would have to decide her future now if she wanted to live.
"Fuck it all..." she hissed, leaping from the bed and through the window with a single spring, rolling awkwardly across the ground and rising to chase after Sun. She had no idea if she could trust him, but at least she had a backup plan in case he turned out to be useless: back at the apartment, Bronzewing's sheets were stained red with gore.
[Carefully disguised Warehouse, 2:00PM]
Roman Torchwick, contrary to his occasionally hot-tempered outbursts and penchant for gaudy attire, was a man who loved order. He planned all of his heists months in advance, gathering extensive information and accounting for every contingency before committing his goons. He organized his warehouses carefully, ensuring that valuable jewelry was stored in one section, dust in another, dust derivatives and other refined products in a third, and so on down the line. It made searching for a specific piece or kind of loot easier, as well as transporting the goods to buyers once the deal had been closed. He set up his thugs in careful watch schedules, ensuring that his properties always had sufficient 24/7 protection and that his turf never lacked eyes and ears. It was this attention to detail, this belief in highly-controlled logistics that had gained him such incredible fortune and infamy, and it was also what drove him up a wall when his sometimes-partner-sometimes-competitor Cinder Fall withheld information or otherwise strung him along. Thus, fresh from a meeting with the infuriating dust sorceress, Roman was understandably frustrated when a bloodstained Neo teleported into his office and began frantically stumbling over her words.
"Neo..." Roman growled, lighting a fresh cigar from his old one and swinging his feet up onto his desk. "Would it kill you to talk normally?"
"VCT" Neo said, catching her breath. "They know our hideouts, and they're coming for us."
"Bullshit" Roman choked on his smoke, nearly falling out of his chair. "The government won't touch me."
"I'm not shitting you, Roman" Neo replied. "I was nearly killed by one of their freak test projects, and I saw more regrouping in the district. This is a massive offensive directed squarely at you and your holdings."
"Still" Roman said, recovering. "They won't touch me. I have a very good friend in a very influential high place for any charges they throw at me to stick too long."
"I'd listen to your contract killer, Roman" a gruff voice broke in. "Your 'friend', if I'm not mistaken, is the very man who's coming to kill you." Both Roman and Neo spun around to face a corner window of the office. It had been forced open from the bottom, and a man dressed entirely in black was kneeling on the sill.
"You...!" Neo exclaimed, recognizing the man as the cloaked figure who had killed her assailant.
"You" the man replied, stepping into the room and straightening to his full height as his cloak closed protectively across his front. "Are very hard to follow. Fortunately, it looks like I have made it in time."
"Who the fuck are you?" Roman demanded, reaching for the cane he had left leaning against the corner of his desk.
"The Demon of Fort Castle" the man replied flatly, his grey eyes narrowing as his face set itself in stone.
"The Demon of..." Roman's hand paused, his expression thoughtful. "I thought you quit, Rose?"
"I did" Qrow replied, nodding at Roman's recognition. "Over a severe disagreement with my oldest friend. And right now, we have maybe five minutes to work out a deal beneficial to both of us."
"What kind of deal?" Roman asked, intrigued.
"You have information" Qrow stated. "Official records, documents, unofficial films of a voyeuristic nature, etc, that detail the true lives of those who lived in the Menagerie. I want them, along with your signed affidavit as the former base commander that said records, documents etc are genuine."
"A rather unusual and steep price" Roman said, only briefly fazed by the demand. "And what are you offering in return?"
"A free ride out of Vale" Qrow offered. "Damien is hunting for you Roman, and though he issued orders for your capture he looked a lot like a man who would prefer to put a bullet through your skull."
"Um..." Neo broke in, glancing down at the streets below. "We have company, Roman."
"Give Neo a place to lay low as well and you have a deal" Roman instantly offered, snatching his cane and standing up.
"I'll take those terms" Qrow agreed. "Gather the documents and meet me at Harper's Wharf at midnight tonight. I'll hold up my end if you hold up yours."
"Understood" Roman replied, tipping his hat as the sounds of fighting erupted deeper in the building. "Coming, Neo?" Taking the arm of his favorite companion, Roman smirked at Qrow before disappearing in a flash of light, the passenger of Neo's semblance.
Once they were gone, Qrow breathed a sigh of relief and drew his arms out from under his cloak, bouncing an incendiary grenade on his palm. He had suspected that Roman had been the driving force behind the upswing in organized crime in Vale, even if the criminal had tried to keep his presence under wraps. He pulled the pin and dropped the grenade by Roman's exquisite mahogany desk, hurriedly stepping outside the office and closing the door. He knew that Roman had been the commanding officer in charge of the Menagerie, but had never been able to pin the man down long enough to force the kind of meeting luck had just handed to him. He counted carefully in his head, kicking in the door he had just closed at the exact moment that the grenade went off, the heat wave forcing him back a pace as the chemicals set the office ablaze. He knew that Roman would have held onto anything that could protect him in the event that Damien decided that the truth could never get out, and he was willing to shake hands with a lesser devil to combat a far greater one. His reverie was broken by the pounding of booted feet, and he turned to face a squad of SWAT troopers. He swept past them without a word, returning their startled salutes with a crisp, officer's glare.
"Get me Damien" he ordered, a web of lies spinning itself into existence inside his head. "We have much to discuss."