Chapter 10
A Little Bit of Adorable.
She wakes up hot. But not in the way she'd prefer. Like, miserably hot. She feels like she did that one weekend her dad took her to the lake and she spent all day Saturday in the water. Only it's the next day when every square inch of her skin that wasn't covered by the swimsuit felt like it was on fire and her father spent the whole day trying to keep her in the tent and rubbing aloe vera gel on her and reminding her that she had ignored him the day before about sunscreen.
She realizes at some point that she is moving, slowly. Up and down, up and down. She also hears a 'thump-thump. Thump-thump' in her ear. Opening her eyes, a few things become immediately clear.
First, and not to be ignored, she's bare ass naked. Considering what she finds out subsequently makes that slightly less horrible to her, but still not ideal.
Second, what she was hearing is Dave's heartbeat and he's still out like a light. Stupid nerve damage, he probably won't even notice they are both as red as lobsters until she points it out.
Third, she is laying half on him and her ear is picking up his heartbeat through his chest. His lungs move her effortlessly. He has wrapped an arm protectively around her in his sleep. Finally, and the part of her Dave realizations that manages to make her smirk a little through the pain, he is all but sniffing her hair in his sleep and he could probably use his cock as a Pogo stick, it's so hard.
Fourth, it isn't just the sun. Looking around, she can see that she is in a desert, and she has managed to get sand and grit in places sand and grit ought not to be. She finds herself grumbling as she starts getting to her feet.
"Fucking shit. Where the hell are we this time?"
Finally, she digs around in her inventory for what she needs to get out of this burning sun. She decides to include armor, unfortunately for her poor back and shoulders. At least she didn't have to put it on normally. Running the rough weight over her skin would have been a nightmare. Having it merely appear on her is a vast improvement. Then she makes it a point to gently shake Dave even as her own pain is ever-so-slowly beginning to fade. She isn't sure how much damage a serious sunburn does in hit points, and she would guess that it won't heal at all until you are out of the sun. But at least things are getting put back to rights quickly once she has covered up.
Then, finally, she gets out a water bottle. Still chilled, incidentally. It seems that their inventory puts things into an actual stasis. That little fact made Alyx almost lose her mind trying to work out how.
She gives the little flashing folder in the lower right of her vision a glare, and finally presses the button.
YOU HAVE EARNED AND LEVELED A NEW SKILL!
RANGED EXPLOSIVE DEVICES: 4
YOU HAVE EARNED A NEW SKILL!
IMPROVISED EXPLOSIVES: 1
YOUR SKILL IN CLIMBING HAS IMPROVED BY: 6
FROM DAMAGE TAKEN, YOU HAVE GAINED THE PHYSICAL ABILITY OF HEAT RESISTANCE: 4 (8%)
PHYSICAL EXERTION HAS INCREASED YOUR PHYSICAL ABILITIES!
STR: 1
DEX: 2
CON: 1
USE IN PROBLEM-SOLVING INCLUDING UNLOCKING ROMANCE OPTIONS HAS INCREASED YOUR MENTAL ABILITIES!
INT: 2
WIS: 2
CHA: 3
DEDICATION AGAINST THE FORCES OF DARKNESS HAVE GRANTED YOU A NEW TITLE!
TITLE: GUMSHOE.
WHEN USED, THE TITLE OF GUMSHOE WILL OFFER YOU A BONUS OF TEN PERCENT TO ANY ATTEMPT TO DISCERN THE MIND AND LOCATION OR ACTIVITIES OF SUCH BEHIND ANY CRIMINAL OR EVIL OPERATION.
YOU HAVE LEVELED! (x4)
She sighs. 'Gumshoe?' Was she living in a mobster movie now? Is a guy in a retarded yellow coat going to be getting in her way? She can't help the eye roll, but does close this out and hit the next tab on her folder.
YOU HAVE UNLOCKED THE GAMER ABILITY 'TITLE SWAP' THROUGH EARNING A SECOND TITLE. YOU MAY ONLY HAVE ONE ADDITIONAL TITLE ACTIVE AT ANY GIVEN TIME FOR EVERY ONE HUNDRED LEVELS YOU ACHIEVE, WITH THE FIRST ONE BEING FREE. BE ADVISED: WHILE THEY CAN BE SWAPPED, THEY CAN ONLY BE SO SWAPPED ONCE PER SLEEP CYCLE. ADDITIONAL ADVISORY: THE 'GAMER' TITLE OFFERS A FIVE PERCENT EXPERIENCE INCREASE ACROSS THE BOARD. EXPERIENCE POINTS, BASIC STATISTICS, ABILITIES, AND SKILLS.
Let's see. A highly situational ten percent bonus that I'll probably never bother with, or five percent more broken as fuck. Hmm. Tough call.
By this time Dave has managed to get himself put together, though both of them are still feeling the heat. Dark purple and black on her, with forest green and black on him these days. They were chosen because they were better for sneaking around in at night than the bright purple she used to use or his bright, practically neon green and yellow. But right now it isn't so awesome as the dark colors and heavy kevlar backed metal starts soaking up the heat. Dave turns her way finally, a water bottle in his mouth, and lucky for him he hasn't healed the sunburn enough yet for her to see the blush. He was extremely aware of the condition he woke up in and that she had most likely seen it.
"So. Desert, huh?" He opens his inventory. "I lost a bunch of buckets I guess when we swapped worlds again. Apparently, that is something else the purple boxes are good for. Still have about eight of them. Five-gallon buckets. So forty gallons. You?"
She looks a bit annoyed. "One."
He raises an eyebrow. "One bucket?"
She huffs out an annoyed breath. "No, one fucking bottle. Well, six actually but the other five I emptied climbing that damn tower. We had running water there, how was I supposed to know that we would suddenly need the damn buckets!? Mine were all in the gray inventory. I wanted to make room for some of the stuff we scrounged out of Ravenholm that might be worth something. Jewelry and stuff. I have a couple of trunks of it. You know, in case I bought it again. Buckets of water were cheap." She looks around, supremely irritated. "You know. In theory."
He shakes his head. "Well, forty gallons is quite a bit. But not knowing where we are going I am gonna suggest we travel by night and get some shade set up for the day. Otherwise, we are going to go through everything we have really fast. Conditions like this, we could each go through a gallon of water a day. Easy. Especially if we are doing anything strenuous, and..." He looks around at the sandy, rocky, badlands environment without a flat patch anywhere.
"I hate to say it but I think riding the bikes will probably qualify here. Good thing for the map system, or we'd be screwed trying to make our way across an area like this at night. Place like this, the moon and stars might be bright enough we don't even need the night vision. But it'd be really easy to get turned around."
She smirks, finally feeling a little sassy as the last of the ache from the sunburn is getting down to manageable. A bit scary though. It had been about ten minutes. That's twenty points of damage, and she isn't actually completely healed yet.
A normal person would have been on death's door by the time she woke up. Bastard god-wannabe motherfucker.
"That what your Boy Scout Training tells you?"
He laughs. "Yeah, actually. There a problem with that?"
She snickers. "Just trying to imagine you in that uniform." Then she adds in a tone that leaves very little to the imagination.
"I have to say, given the choice? I prefer the current look in Every. Possible. Way.
She inwardly giggles at how easy he is to get completely tongue-tied, then puts the empty water bottle back in her inventory.
She gives Dave a hand setting up a quick shade tarp and the two of them lay back and try to think cool thoughts while the sweat falls off them in torrents under their suits. That lasts about ten minutes before they are both stripping down to their small clothes. Some big hairy monster wouldn't have to fight them if he showed up after an hour of that. Their heatstroke would have done the work for him.
After what was really only seven hours but had seemed like a hell of a lot more, the sun is finally dipping below the horizon and the two get out their shiny, almost new bikes. Also done up in their personal color schemes. Putting the armor back on and the tarp, poles, and tie ropes away, the two synchronize their radio channels so they can talk while on the move and they head north, for lack of a better idea.
These bikes that Barney had begged, borrowed, and stole supplies to get built for them are actually pretty amazing. As long as nothing gets broken and they are in a place with sun, they'll run basically forever. They aren't really wartime ready, but they are able to take a pretty significant pounding and if the worst happens, they are designed to easily come apart. Granted, that was so they could put the things in their inventories. But it doesn't change the fact that it makes them incredibly easy to work on. Even with the simple hand tool sets they each have that came with the bikes. But most importantly, while they are by no means the fastest bikes that can be found, they are very good at putting what power they have on the ground especially in more or less ignore crappy terrain. Though this locale is a challenge even for them. Anything over forty seems foolhardy, given the combination of visibility, large rocks, and pits that dot the landscape.
She is following Dave as while she is the better rider, he is more prepared for the possible dangers of the desert. At least, in theory, based on his skill selection from books. But more importantly, going back to the first bit. She is the better rider. Meaning that it is far less likely that she will make a mistake and be left behind, hurting and bleeding. But since she is following him, and therefore can be just that slight bit less concerned about what is on the trail, she is the first one to notice it.
"Hey, Dave? Check out the moon. Where the hell are we?"
He slows down quite a bit and glances over his right shoulder. Sees that the moon is partially shattered, with pieces that have come loose just continuing their orbit with it. "Someplace that picked up a Budget Death Star? How in the hell should I know?"
She clicks her tongue into the microphone. "Hey, last time we got shuffled somewhere weird you practically knew how many hemorrhoids people were packing around, how was I supposed to know this one was new on you... Is that what I think it is?"
Dave kicks the speed back up to something just barely this side of insane, given the terrain.
"If you think it's some kind of fight between people and a bunch of monsters, then I am going to give that a yes. I'm heading in."
"Not alone you're not!"
The scene as they approach is mystifying to them. The monsters, for that is all they could be, are black-skinned beasts of a few different varieties. Two that look like scorpions the size of tanks, in the neighborhood of forty that look like nothing so much as massive somewhat bipedal dog things. The majority though are smaller, two-legged monstrosities with no forelimbs that seem to be more or less mobile mouths. They have no idea how many of those there are, beyond a certain point it just becomes a swarm. The other thing that strikes the two incoming heroes as strange is that the different creatures share a lot in common with each other. They are all black with white, bony protrusions. Particularly around the head and especially the face. They all have red highlights that usually include their eyes, and in many cases, there seem to be bits that have an eerie glow about them. Such as the stinger of the scorpion's tail and the eyes of most. Finally, for all that they are so different from each other in other ways they never seem to attack each other. They are a minute out when Dave can finally see the defenders. It looks like the modern equivalent of covered wagons. A few large armed and armored trucks, five it looks like. Circled up and protecting as best as they can many unfortunate souls that are either shooting from in between or under the battlewagons or simply beating with rocks, fairly ineffectually, anything that tries to make it through.
At twenty yards from the edge of the fray, the two stop their bikes and lay them down. They aren't armed, nowhere near armored well enough for this, and neither of them has any idea how to fight from the back of one anyway without the very serious risk of crashing.
Then they give each other a quick look as some of the creatures on the edges are beginning to notice them. Once more they praise the genius of Barney in supplying them with quiet motorcycles. Reaching into their inventories for the weapons of choice, his three-foot maces and her curved swords, they wade into the fray.
At first, they are largely ignored by all the creatures but those closest to them. That doesn't last long though. On average it takes a single swing from either of them to kill the little swarmers that scuttle about the edges of the fray, and their sad broken bodies begin to almost immediately break down as though they were falling apart into black ash, blown away on the breeze. In less than a minute of the beginning of their assault, they have garnered the attention of the bigger werewolf looking creatures. Many of these break off the attack against the caravan and start heading their way. Dave takes the lead, getting beaten down a bit here and there. But his armor is protecting him well enough as they continue the slaughter and his personal damage reduction at the level it is can take otherwise lethal attacks that manage to get something through and make them minor annoyances. It takes on average two swings for him to break one of these bipedal wolf creatures. Mindy moves around him, his sides and back. Never in front. Never between that strength he has earned and the things he is targeting. But all over everywhere else, and on the move. Using him as a mobile bulwark that she dances around, her kills at least doubling his own.
Finally, when the number of these strange black and white beasts has been reduced to a mere third of its original number, and some of the smaller two-legged mobile mouths are starting to flee into the night, the massive armored scorpions turn their way. Pincers raised, and stinger ready. The two look at each other, swap out for the rocket launchers quickly and end that irritation with a pair of loud booms that rock the entire area and cause these two creatures to all but disintegrate. This breaks the spine of the rest of the assault, and aside from a few that get shot as they retreat by unusual guns that seemingly have different colored effects, the rest storm away into the night. After swapping back to their normal weapons and taking a quick look around to verify that they were out of immediate danger, the two begin walking back to their bikes. Dave keys up the microphone.
"How many do you have left?"
Mindy winces. She had a grand old time tearing apart that asshole Breen's office.
"Thirteen. You?"
He shakes his head.
"Twelve. I think we fired the same number in the office, but I'd already used one to get access. Remember?"
She nods as they pick up their bikes and start riding slowly back towards camp, with the headlights even on and as non threateningly as they can. She glances his way.
"How are we going to play this?"
He shakes his head. "Hell if I know. I'd be thrilled with just some directions to a larger town. Maybe someplace a bit less... Desert. I guess. You wanna talk to them, or me?"
She gives him a look. "You really think I'd be the better option to open fucking negotiations?"
He can't help the smile that graces his lips as he shuts down the microphone for now and raises his helmet's faceplate until it could pass for a fairly ugly visor.
"Hello, the camp! Do you require further assistance?"
There is silence as the talking and crying in the circled vehicles stops. Then a voice comes out from the encampment.
"We could use help on watch until morning. We can offer a meal, and there is a small spring here to refill your water whether you stay or not. We have little else we can spare, but whether you chose to stay the rest of the night or move on, know that you have the thanks of the Digdon tribe."
Dave laughs in a friendly manner as he dismounts his bike and starts wheeling it over. "Digdon? Is that somebody's name because otherwise, I am sensing a story here."
One of the large vehicles, nearly sixty feet long now that they can get a good look at it, moves forward so they can easily squeeze in with their bikes. The speaker laughs over the sound of the truck and continues speaking when it stops moving.
"Indeed, you could say it does have a story, though not a very long one. We've always been better than most at finding hidden water, and other tribes would get excited if they saw us digging down for it. Over the years, we just became known as the tribe to look for if we were doing so, and in time it got shortened to 'Digdon' because too few people here in Vacuo can get a proper education and tend to speak the way they think."
When they are inside the ring of vehicles, they can see that it is actually quite crowded in here. Men, women, and children of all ages. These last are staring at them in awe, and many of the others are barely hiding their own wide eyes at the two. But the first thing that the two outsiders notice is that a huge proportion of the people here have what seem to be actual animal features. Odd animal ears and cat slit eyes, a few even that are sporting short horns. One of them is an adorable young girl, at least by the patched and ragged clothes she is wearing that were likely once a skirt and jumper. Probably no more than eight years old. She steps toward them with what they first take to be an odd headband and then realize is actually a pair of fuzzy antennae, such as you might see on a moth or butterfly. It isn't until she gets quite close that they realize that she isn't actually wearing a cloak, and instead she has wrapped her own wings around herself.
"Are you Hunters?" She asks them excitedly.
Dave and Mindy look at each other, and for a change, Mindy is the one to kneel and speak with her, mostly because she is looking at her as she asks. But also because to people that don't know better Dave is far more intimidating. He is very near a foot taller than her, and while it is easy to tell that Mindy is fast and graceful, it is that very grace that keeps her from seeming as impressive as he does to those that haven't the experience in combat to be wary of it. He moves with more precision than he did, but it's a brawler's precision. He can fight, and he can move when he needs to. But he'll fall back on a simple stride that moves his shoulders just that little bit aggressively without really meaning to. He looks people in the eyes which many see as a challenge, not realizing that the smile that graces his lips really is one of a potential, even hopeful friend. Finally, he is loud compared to her. He makes noise when he walks, when he moves. He can be quiet now when he needs to be. Has gotten much better at it in fact. But when it isn't required he relaxes and then simply takes up more space in a conversation, or at a table. He is, without really meaning to be, simply more. Many, especially the young, don't deal well with that from a stranger. It's an issue they had both been made more and more aware of since their time in the Black Mesa East compound, and Mindy seems to know almost instinctively that it will only be worse for a child.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure what you mean. I have in the past hunted bad things, but I wouldn't call myself a professional by any stretch. Most of the time we are closer to what you might call... Policemen. I suppose. But we are very new to the area, perhaps you can tell me what a Hunter is and does, and we can see if my job isn't somewhat the same after all."
The tall man who was originally speaking to them and laughing is now giving them a very guarded look but doesn't interfere. The entire camp is once again quiet, listening to these two speak. Seventy or more souls, depending on how many might still be in the vehicles. All as silent as a forgotten tomb.
A woman who almost has to be the girl's mother has stepped up behind her, shaking like a leaf but unwilling to pull the child away while this slayer of evil and self-proclaimed 'policemen' have their attention on her.
"A Huntsman... Or woman, girls can be huntsman too!" She looks at Mindy as if demanding that her declaration be given the proper respect.
Mindy smiles and nods. "Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way."
The small girl, having decided that Mindy was most definitely on her side of the great Huntsman versus Hunts-person debate, continues excitedly.
"A Hunts-person is a trained warrior that protects everybody else from the nasty evil Grimm using weapons and aura and semblance and skill and I want to be one when I grow up I can fly, and that would be great for a hunts-person I could be the best hunts-person ever!" She looks back at her mother and her face falls a little. "Maybe. When I get better at flying. 'Cause, right now it tires me out a lot. Like a lot a lot."
Mindy nods as though the most serious of things has just been explained to her. Which isn't as much of a stretch as she's trying to make it seem. Aura is a thing here it looks like, and they have Aura.
Now they just need to figure out what the hell to do with it. But first...
"I am sure you will be a fantastic hunter when you get older. I can honestly say that on a hunt I was engaged in just recently, I'd have nearly given my left tit for the ability to fly."
The voice from behind her makes her smirk and the young girl giggle. Even the rest of the camp starts to feel the tension bleed away at Dave's remark.
"Uh, no. That's a big no, I like those right where they are, thanks."
The little girl leans in as if to impart a great secret, and when Mindy offers an ear she says: "I think he likes you."
Mindy shakes her head and glances back to Dave with a smirk on her lips and a glint in her eye. "He'd better like me, I'm getting tired of beating him to make him understand."
Most of the camp laughs, but the girl looks shocked and confused, particularly at Dave who is laughing along with all the rest. Mindy winks at her, the action lost on most because of the way her helm's faceplate sits when it is raised.
"Only in practice. Maybe you can watch us train tomorrow morning. I can't promise you'll see anything new, since we aren't real hunters I don't think. At least not the way you see them. But it might be fun for you. You know. If you like."
As the girl is nodding so fast that her antennae are beating Mindy in the face, the crowd once again chuckles, and Mindy puts her hand out.
"I'm Mindy McReady, and the doofus back there is Dave Lizewski. We're glad to have a friend here."
The girl seems to go into some kinda stage fright and whispers. "I'm Rebecca. But you can call me Butterfly. If you want to."
Mindy stands, and lets go of the child's hand as her mother leads her away to one of the smaller vehicles. Looking like nothing so much as a three-wheeled station wagon with a single wheel and driver's seat in the front.
Mindy turns back to Dave and they share a look.
Aura? How are they going to tactfully find out about something that it sounds like everybody they meet is going to assume they already know?
They had slept for a good portion of the day, off and on. So staying awake while the tribe sleeps fitfully isn't difficult, nor are they alone. Heroes of the night they may be, but it seems nobody was quite willing to let them be the only people on watch. Hours pass as the two discuss in quiet tones through their radios what they want to do. How much they want to show off their abilities. For a change, Dave is the one that is being reluctant and finally, Mindy has a moment of irritation.
"Look, I get that you are probably not interested in them getting the completely unabridged history of our screwed-up lives, but they already watched us each pull four-foot rocket launchers out of our ass, and then they disappeared. Never mind my swords or those beat sticks you use. Do you really think we are set up in such a way that we can be even remotely functional without letting that cat out of the bag!?"
There is silence on the radio for a few moments, then Dave's voice comes back over the radio.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. They just seem so suspicious of us. Makes me want to hold something back in case we need it."
Mindy's voice softens. "They aren't suspicious. Well, yeah, they are. But that isn't the real problem. They're scared, Dave. They almost got wiped out last night. Their perimeter was probably five minutes from collapse when we showed up. So they went from being scared of these 'Grimm' things, to terrified of us." She sighs. "And I don't think I did us any favors when I said we were like policemen. I'm getting a real 'wild west' vibe from these people now that we've been around them a bit. Even the nicest of them doesn't seem to be a huge fan of authority. Honestly, after getting the explanation of what a hunter is I think that probably is a lot closer to what we actually are. It's just without any idea what all that entails we couldn't fake it if we tried. Especially not knowing how to use Aura, or what in the hell a Semblance is."
There is silence for a few moments. "So, we don't hide the inventory. Do we hold back during our spar?"
Mindy smiles. "Nope. I'd like to see that little girl reach for her dreams, so sorry Dave. I'm gonna have to beat the shit out of you in a couple of hours."
The groan over the radio causes her to giggle for a good long while.
A few hours later...
The little girl makes her escape from her mother's car in the early morning when the sounds of flesh smacking flesh are heard all over camp. Crouching a little tiny bit to get under one of the trucks, she can see the two strangers. The boy is wearing a pair of shorts and boots. Nothing else. His muscle, lean and taught, is already marked with bruises in places from the whirlwind he is defending himself against in what looks to the tribe to be an all-out fight to, if not the death, then certainly until one of them can't go on.
Her eyes though are centered on the girl she spoke with last evening. She's short. Shorter than most of the women in the tribe. She wears a tight pair of shorts, black boots of her own, and what looks like a sleeveless shirt with a stretchy bra underneath. But she moves like water around a big dumb rock. Gliding out of the way of punches and jabs that look so powerful until you compare them to her. A quick jab here. An open palm strike there. An attempt at a leg sweep that actually fails because the man plants himself and simply resists the attack outright, but she slithers out of the way before he can capitalize on it. Then something happens that causes the tribesmen to hold their weapons that much tighter as the whole of the caravan now watches these lunatics.
The man misses a punch. Not so unusual. But this time, a six-foot spire of what they were guessing is volcanic rock at the end of his swing shatters. The crack echoes in the land around them as he shakes the numbness out of his hand, little droplets of blood flying from the skinned knuckles. She hears murmurs from the adults around her that are just as mesmerized as she is. It is stated many different ways, but always seems to come down to one thing:
"They aren't using Aura."
Rebecca knows what they are talking about. She has been incredibly interested in hunters, hunter abilities, and hunter culture for as long as she can remember. So she knows one thing for certain. Hunters are very skilled and can be very powerful. But without using their Aura they aren't working beyond the outermost limits of any normal person, and the big guy just pulverized a rock without the telltale flash of Aura. He is getting beaten and bruised. But isn't using his Aura to protect himself. Moreover is smiling, even now through a split lip that is leaving a mess of red all over his front. Finally, he manages to land a hit. An explosive jab that clips her shoulder and throws her like a rag doll nearly ten yards.
Where she lands on her feet with one hand down in a three-point stance and looks back at him with a smirk.
"It's about damn time, slowpoke. Wanna call it or keep going? We have a bit of an audience."
He nods, a smirk of his own showing. Oh, he knows that by any sane judgment that he's just lost. Badly. But he got a hit in when she was being serious. When she wasn't playing around. A real hit, not just some nudge because she missed her dodge by a millimeter. He lost the fight, for sure. But it's proof he's getting better and that alone is cause for celebration in his book. He shakes his head, sweat and blood spilling off of him.
"Naw, let's call it. I'm getting hungry and I need to get cleaned up before I can get dressed for the day."
Then he does something that causes all the adults to once again grip their weapons that little bit tighter and murmurs once again abound.
He reaches ahead, seemingly pointing at nothing, and pulls away from thin air a wet towel that he uses to wipe himself down. Blood and sweat wipe away revealing that the bruises are fading before their eyes, and his split lip has already ceased bleeding. After a few minutes, he puts the now disgusting rag back away and reaches again to the void. Clothes start appearing on his body. Loose blue pants. A shirt with an unusual print on it that has seen much wear. He runs a comb through his wild hair, and by the time it is put away, Mindy has already done much the same and walked over to him. He brings her into his arms and they hug, tenderly. The more sharp-eared of the Faunus can hear their short conversation on the wind, whispered though it may be.
"I'm getting better. Watch yourself, or pretty soon we'll have the great role reversal here and it'll be you getting bonuses in damage reduction every damn morning."
Mindy laughs at that, and her response brings a smirk to the few that hear it, even as they try to figure out what is meant by 'damage reduction.'
"In your dreams, maybe. But you'd best apologize when you wake up or you'll find out first hand that dreams don't always come true."
He then laughs and the two make their way back into the circle of trucks, to find that once again every member of the tribe is staring at them, and the older laughing gentleman from last night isn't laughing at all anymore and looks at them with trepidation at best.
"I know that we owe you many lives, and so I will ask this as nicely as I can. Just who in the hell are you people?"
Dave turns to Mindy and sighs.
"Nope. Last time I screwed up and I paid the price. This time it was your call. Deal with it."
The look on the girl's face could make him laugh if the situation wasn't getting serious so fast.
Authors Note:
Decided to go with RWBY, partially because I actually have those so it's pretty easy for me to brush up on the world even if the Wiki wasn't outstanding (which it is) and partially because the other two that I saw and immediately leaned toward I have issues with at this time. Worm is a fantastic story, but as the guy who suggested it mentioned it is a bit of an endgame fanfic if I want the characters to actually accomplish much. The other I already have a ridiculously overpowered crossover based in that I am working on. That would be Mass Effect. (And BtVS, and D&D, and DC Comics, and a ridiculous horror film from the eighties, and Harry Potter and Kick-Ass... I think that might be all of it. It's stupidly OP though. Fun, but pretty silly. It's over on TTH under the account "Datatroll" and combines like three other unfinished stories that I ALSO need to get back to. My muse is a slave to shiny objects, what can I say? If you want to check out anything of mine there, make sure you set your account to Mature. I don't bother to get graphic very often, but it can happen and I don't like mods contacting me to snivel because twelve-year-olds are getting educations they didn't need.)
A lot of the other suggestions kinda suffer from the fact that the overall danger potential is either equivalent or less than Half-Life. Which they've already kinda outgrown. I mean, they aren't going to magic or melee down Striders or gunships yet, if they had decided to tackle those they would have to use normal weapons. But the average Combine soldier or Zombie is not going to even slow them down. I know that I haven't gone to the trouble to detail out a real fight for a while, instead just brushing past them fairly quickly. But there is a reason. Dave at this point has a strength that you have to get into the giant races in D&D to match, and Mindy's dexterity makes Legolas look like a couch potato. Just because I am not planning to make them god slayers by chapter twenty, don't assume they are weak.
As for the chapter. I know long conversations with incredibly excitable small children are probably not what the average person thinks of when they think of a gamer fanfic. But for me, for these two? It works. Pretty much for the same reason, it would work for Shirou from Fate/Stay Night, B.A. Baracus of 'The A-Team' and various others like them, regardless of the different attitudes and backgrounds they have. That little Butterfly Faunus (That I gave wings that borrowed capabilities from the Gargoyles cartoon for that could be a cloak because I could. Don't Judge.) is exactly the kind of person that they are in the business to save. They would lay down their lives for a child if it came to it. I have a hard time believing that they couldn't find it in themselves to be kind to one.
Also, I don't actually own anything in RWBY either, and I promise I wouldn't be worth suing even if I were to claim otherwise.
In any case, thank you for all your suggestions, and a few of them will be on the back burner for when they get done here.
Reviews and Fave's are appreciated!