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For her own safety - Roman had warned her, in no uncertain terms, that The Crow did not take violations of The Rules lightly - Neo Politan had had to leave the streets behind, at least for a while. She hated it. She hated washing the pink dye from her hair. She hated exchanging her sexy bodysuit, cropped jacket, and low-slung trousers for some ridiculously frilly dress that friggin' Weiss Schnee would wear. She hated having to spend her nights cooped up on the Vanille Estate, listening to the insipid and petty arguments between her mother and father. And she hated, hated, being called 'Trivia Vanille.'
Still, Roman had told her that her family's wealth and connections might make even The Crow think twice about retaliation, something that no other criminal in Vale could boast. And while he hadn't outright stated it, she knew that Roman would never give up her 'other' identity, even if the infamous Crow were to do his worst.
The realization that Roman could be seriously hurt, or worse, because of her had struck her like nothing in this world ever could. It'd threatened to knock the air from her lungs, and leave her gasping under the weight of two strange, foreign feelings for her.
Guilt. Guilt and regret.
It pissed her off. Neo Politan wasn't supposed to feel guilt. That was the whole point! Neo was meant to flit about, as free as the open sky, unconcerned with such trifles as "consequences" or "legal ownership." If she was going to have to deal with feeling awful, then she might as well have stayed as Trivia Vanille.
She fell back onto her bed, bored out of her skull. Yes, the mattress was sinfully soft and comfortable. Her room was well-appointed, and she wanted for nothing. But it was all so mind-shatteringly boring! If her parents had her way, she would remain there, like an animal in a stable, until they finally found some poor bastard to marry her off on.
Bleh.
Bleeeeeeeh.
Where was the fun in that? What kind of excitement was there to be found in the doldrum existence of a living bartering chip? Bitterly, she wondered exactly what kind of brideprice she was worth. Knowing her father, he'd sell her off for a couple of chickens and a cow. The only reason he hadn't actually done so yet was because he was angling for a better deal with one of the other pompous, stuffy asshole families that made up Vale's upper crust, like the Bronzewings (ugh), the Winchesters (uuuuuuuuugh!) or even the Arcs.
She'd have gone and stolen everything they had, but for the fact that, instead of vaults heaped with precious metals and gemstones, modern aristos had their wealth in less tangible forms, like stock options, trust funds, and other things that she couldn't just stuff into a burlap sack. The cheaters.
Neo rolled onto her stomach, taking out her Scroll. While she was effectively benched from her favorite form of recreation for a while, that didn't mean that she couldn't do research to find her next target. Somewhere out there was some unsuspecting putz onto whom she could vent her considerable spleen, and it would be hilarious.
One of the very few benefits to being a young Valean aristocrat - well, one of the very few that Neo gave even a half a fuck about, at least - was that she had access to an 'exclusive' social media platform for young socialites. She'd never, not once, made a single post herself, but she lurked, and watched. The idle wealthy often gave her just the best ideas of where to hit, what with their stupid attempts to one-up each other in petty competitions of wealth and power.
They were all jerky jerks, who jerked, mostly their own egos. Scrolling through the feed, she rolled her eyes at the various posts of posturing young men and bitchy young women. They were all so dreadfully dull. None of them had any actual discernible talent or drive, leading dull, tedious lives. There was no blood to them, no steel in their spines. Not like The Huntsman.
Sure, he was a Cape, and that meant that he was inherently just a little bit silly, but he'd had the drive to get out there and try to stop the unstoppable, namely herself. She bit her lip as she remembered the hard edge in his eye when he'd pinned her against the wall. That look wasn't the only hard thing about him, Neo recalled with her trademark wicked little smirk. Those little tights of his had concealed nothing, and she'd felt how he'd desired her, the burning heat pushing against her soft thighs.
Neo had never been interested in sex or romance before, seeing it as just another silly pursuit that occupied too much brainspace in the dumb people around her, but after her rooftop encounter, she started to see the appeal. Of course, the one man who'd managed to turn her on was effectively off-limits for her.
What kind of bullshit was that?!
She pouted as she kept scrolling. Someone, somewhere, was going to rue the day that Neo Politan had been denied something she wanted. Finally, she found something that looked promising. The Arc family was hosting a formal ball, as celebration for the twentieth birthday of their only son, Jaune. Neo had never met the Arc son. Actually, she'd rarely met any of her supposed social peers at all, as her parents had hid her away as if…as if there was something wrong with her. She scowled as she opened the link in the social media app. The Arcs were the biggest, richest, and douchiest of the Big Rich Douches' Club, and she was sure that wrecking their big, stupid party would be her best prank yet. She just needed to get a visual on the heir to the Dickhead Throne so she would know who to…
Neo's jaw dropped.
No way.
No fucking way.
He wasn't in costume, obviously, replacing his spandex tights and cape for a designer suit, but he was absolutely The Huntsman. There was no mistaking those piercing, deep blue eyes, those messy golden locks, or the lithe, muscular body concealed underneath the high-end jacket he wore in the picture.
Jaune Arc was The Huntsman.
Jaune Arc was The Huntsman. The Huntsman was Jaune Arc. Jaune Arc was a vigilante crimefighter who could pin her to a wall and turn her on like a lightswitch. The Huntsman was one of the Valean aristocrats who…
It struck Neo with the force of a thunderclap. In a shocking turn of events, it turned out that Trivia Vanille had some use after all. On the street, Neo Politan could never pursue The Huntsman…but Lady Trivia could certainly charm Jaune Arc, and there wasn't damn thing that The Crow could do about it! He could just stick it in his beak and blow for all she cared.
Pranking high society was always well and good, but how many opportunities would she have to nab the guy she wanted while also thumbing her nose at the one authority that claimed to control the uncontrollable?
She knew what she wanted, and she never let anyone get in her way.
Of course, for this…well, "plan" was a strong word for what was formulating in her mind. Half-plan? Idea? Concept? Whatever, if she was gonna land her superhero hottie and flaunt her impunity in The Crow's face, it couldn't be as Neo Politan, street thief extraordinaire. And that meant making use of a particular resource that she just couldn't stand.
She pulled a face, and with a great, silent sigh of resignation, slipped from her bed. Neo ordinarily took care of her own needs with her own resources, but at least once a week, her mother insisted that they eat dinner as a family. Neo scoffed. They weren't a family, no matter how hard Carmel Vanille attempted to pretend that they were. Maybe Neo wasn't the best placed to judge what a family was supposed to be, but at least Roman tried. He taught her everything she needed to know to live the life she wanted, looked out for her. He not only introduced her to his friends and associates, but actively bragged about how talented and clever she was. Roman never, not once, made her feel like there was something wrong with her, that she needed to fundamentally change who she was. Maybe that wasn't the ideal family, but it was the best that Neo had ever had. It was certainly more than what Trivia Vanille had waiting for her downstairs.
Her father, Jimmy, was, in a word, a complete and utter sleaze. An odd assessment from a professional lawbreaking ne'er-do-well, perhaps, but there was a difference. Roman was sleazy in a shake-your-fist-while-shouting "Next time, you puckish rogue!" kind of sleazy. He was fun sleazy. Jimmy Vanille was sleazy in the "check under the floorboards and keep five-hundred yards from schools" kind of sleaze. In her darker moments, Neo thought that if the man died screaming in a fire, not a single soul would mourn his demise.
The man was sitting at the head of the dining room table, as servants began setting the plates and silverware for the dinner. Next to him sat Trivia's alleged mother, Carmel. She was like the thin crust on the outside of the steaming sewage pot pie that was her husband's business dealings, a fragile veneer that gave the other families of Vale the excuse needed to overlook the noxious stench. She was just as bad as her husband, just slightly more subtle about it.
Bleh.
Trivia took her seat, unnoticed, and poked at the food placed before her as her parents argued about some odd bullshit or another. They didn't scream or get physical, instead making snide comments and barbed insinuations as they just…picked at each other. Neither Trivia nor Neo could understand what brought the two of them together, or what kept them together. Maybe they had somehow found the only other person as spiteful and poisonous as themselves. Maybe they deserved one another.
She waited for a lull in their back-and-forth before chiming her Scroll. Both of her parents looked at her, only then realizing her presence at the table. Despite how many times it had happened - too many to count as she grew up - it still hurt, just a little, when her own mother flinched and looked away from her eyes. Still, she pushed that aside to focus on her primary reason for interacting for these people at all. With another button press, she forwarded the post about the Arc family gala to their own devices.
Jimmy quirked his brow as he saw the post. "So, the Arc boy is turning twenty. What of it?"
"If you'd think for just a second, you could tell what she's trying to say," retorted Carmel. "I think she wants to go, is that right?"
Trivia nodded, keeping her eyes lowered.
"Actually…" Jimmy rubbed his chin. "If she goes, she might be able to bag the Arc heir. She'd certainly have novelty on her side. Someone mark the date and time, a good idea actually passed through her head. She just needs to move quickly enough, and she can stop being our problem and become theirs."
"She might have a better shot than you think." Carmel looked at her appraisingly. "The Arc boy is said to be rather odd himself. They say he willingly associates with the lower orders. Servants, orphans, even Faunus."
Jimmy looked genuinely startled at that. "Really? Hmmph. Gil Arc really needs to do a better job of keeping his children in line. It's bad enough that that daughter of his is an open degenerate, but for his heir to go running wild like that?"
"Well, Gil Arc's folly could be our gain. Ordinarily, we'd have no hope of her marrying that high, but with the heir's behavior, they could well overlook that we're sending them…damaged goods, as it were. If she can maintain some semblance of normalcy until it's too late, then she might have a real chance."
"I'll see about getting her an invitation. You know, I almost envy the boy. Imagine, a mute wife. We should all be so lucky." Jimmy chuckled, as though making some great comedic insight of the ages. "And if we're lucky, they'll have a spare that we can install as the heir to our own family."
"I almost envy the girl. Imagine, a husband who can actually get it up. We should all be so lucky," spat Carmel.
With their parents resuming the bitter war that they called a marriage, there was nothing left for either Trivia or Neo at the table. She simply stood up and walked away unnoticed, sending Roman a text asking him to meet with her to discuss something. Whenever her parents realized that she had slipped away from the house, they usually thought that she'd gone out of a window, or had some elaborate escape tunnel built into the estate.
She almost always left through the front door.
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Roman tried not to laugh. Truly, he did, but when Neo showed up at his apartment, all crinoline, ruffles, and tiny fury, he just couldn't help himself. She'd socked him in the arm as she let herself into his place, throwing herself onto his couch in a great huff. Neo looked, for all the world, like a supremely pissed-off fairytale princess, and it was just too cute.
He rolled his eyes before turning back to his sorta-invited houseguest. "Well, as you can see, The Crow, for reasons known only to His Featheriness, has opted to refrain from hunting me down and punching out my teeth in retaliation for your little tongue-wrestling session last night. Thanks for your concern, Neo, means a lot. Truly."
The gentleman thief fought back a wince as Neo's two-toned eyes widened before looking to her own feet in guilt. Ah hell, there she goes looking guilty again. Roman hated seeing her look like that. "Aw, come off," he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "'Ol Birdbrain doesn't scare me."
That was a bald-faced lie, and both of them knew it.
"So, what is it you wanted to show me?"
Neo took out her Scroll, and a few seconds later, some social media post showed up on his own device. Roman looked at it, confused. "Okay? Some meet-and-greet for the inbred among us? What, do you think there's anything worth lifting there?" He shook his head. "I'm tellin' you, you need to lay low and let the heat die down. Me too, while we're at it. Let this whole 'kissing sidekicks' thing fizzle out, and keep the both of us out of the line of fire."
The girl shook her head, then gestured for him to swipe the screen of his Scroll. The next screen had a picture of the apparent birthday boy himself, some lanky blonde kid. "So what? What am I not seeing here?"
With a great, put-upon silent sigh, Neo went to work on her Scroll again. A few swipes and she'd sent a second picture to his Scroll. It was the same as the first, but with a crude, yellow domino mask painted over the kid's face. Roman blinked. That kid looked an awful lot like…
He felt his veins turn to ice. They knew the secret identity of The Crow's sidekick. Oh, shit. "We can't use this," he said immediately. "Your smoochfest with the boy was bad enough, but if we go after him in civilian guise? The Crow really will kill us, and that is not hyperbole. Heads. Spikes. Walls."
Neo shook her head even more vehemently.
"Well, if you're not looking to go after him, why are you…" Roman trailed off as Neo blushed demurely. That was just as weird as seeing her look guilty. This guy really had her acting odd. Then it clicked for him. Their alter egos might be prevented from seeing one another, but there was nothing preventing their civilian selves from meeting, or even starting a relationship. And The Crow couldn't do a damn thing about it, as his own rules prevented reprisals on civilian identities for streetwork, or vice versa.
He chuckled. "Well, looks like you found a way to have your blonde boytoy. Tip of the hat to you, Neo. Still, it doesn't look like there's anything that you need me for, so…"
Neo wrung her hands awkwardly. It looked like it was time for another game of "What's on Neo's Mind?" the award-winning gameshow where Roman attempted to figure out the mind of not just an ordinary woman, but a crazed anarchist woman with breathtaking Daddy issues. Right. Well, she was looking at him like a kicked little puppy, all huge pink and brown eyes, so that means that she wanted something from him. Well, what could she possibly need him for on something like this? There were no joints to case, no safes to crack, no getaway vehicles to steal, so why…
He was missing something. He went back to the original social media post and scrolled through it. There was the announcement, a picture of the kid, and then one of the whole Arc family. Holy crap, that was a lot of daughters. Either they had to try a lot to get a male heir, or else the Arc parents needed a freaking hobby. Shit, no wonder the venue was so large, they'd need half the damn space just for the immediate family…
Family.
Roman felt a teasing grin spread across his lips as he looked up from his Scroll. "Neo…" he began. "Do you mean to say that you're nervous? Nervous about meeting a guy? And that, since he'll have his whole family with him, you want Big Brother Roman to watch you back in case it all goes to hell?"
Neo looked away, embarrassed, before giving a single short nod. Oh gods, he was going to have teasing material for the rest of their natural lives after this.
He made a deliberately exaggerated, put-upon sigh. "Well, when could I ever say no to you, Neo?" Roman grunted as he caught a ballistic mute to the chest, the diminutive girl hugging on to him. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm awesome," he said, grinning ruefully at how much of a complete and utter softie Neo made him. "Just…when this is over, you gotta stop acting like such a girl, okay? It's weird."
Neo's eyes were laughing, even as she punched his arm again.
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