Chapter 3 – Pride Goes Towards A Fall
Soundtrack: Money – Pink Floyd
6th of September, 1890.
Cinder Fall and Vernal Fausse were furious over the botched operation. That much was evident when the latter's submarine returned to the former's private dock at nine-thirty in the morning, instead of the Autumn Maiden. While the red-bedecked siren began to fume, Vernal stormed out of the small mezzanine office within the building, managing to startle Emerald when she slammed the door behind her. Stomping down the stairs as her crew disembarked, she signalled all of them into a meeting room to the right of the loading bay.
"Care to explain why you clowns failed a simple job?!", the French pirate started angrily.
"I didn't fail any of my tasks," Vera barked in defiance. "The crew came equipped with knives as ordered, only to come up against Weiss Schnee, three heavies and Dust ammunition. The crew were lucky to escape death or imprisonment that night. I've written up descriptions of her retainers for your perusal; perhaps we could track them down and do something horrible to them."
Vernal's hands were shaking in agitation when they clasped Vera's report. "Very well," she tersely ground out, "I'll deal with Cinder, and you lot are to lay low until further notice."
Vera nodded, and led the eight crewmen to their bunks on the opposite side of the warehouse. Vernal, meanwhile, walked slowly up the stairs while reading the page-length report; Cinder knew her well enough to know that Vernal had a tough sell, and waited patiently while she opened the door.
"What happened?"
"Apparently, Weiss Schnee herself caught wind of our plans. When my crew came to the ship, that little salope was there to defend it with her Dust sword, along with three heavies she'd brought with her."
Cinder barely contained the rage she harboured for the heir-apparent and asked something in return. "Well, hitting the Eiskönigin will be impossible, but the heavies might be tracked down and made to vanish. Was there anything unusual about them?"
"Apparently, all three of them were women. They was a stealthy type dressed in black, a blonde gunslinger dressed like an American cowboy, and a short auburn-haired girl with an elephant gun/scythe hybrid."
Cinder nodded. "Well, keep your ears on the ground for them. If you find any of these retainers, kidnap them, and use them as leverage against the Schnees."
"You're on," Vernal agreed. "And colour me curious, but how come you know that Weiss Schnee is impossible to kill?"
Cinder's expression went dark. "Because the Creatures of Grimm tried to kill her thrice, and what happened to them? Their headquarters blown to hell, with no survivors."
Vernal paled in response, nodded gingerly and walked out. Cinder turned away from the door, facing the window onto Salter Road as she reflected on the moment that changed her fortunes forever.
14th of October, 1889
When she led the Creatures of Grimm, Cinder Fall was the balance in the scales atop the organisation. To one side stood the insane criminal Mercury Black, and the criminally insane Emerald Sustrai stood on the other end. Sure, Emerald was a powerful orator who could make the gullible and fanciful believe anything she wished, and Mercury was a competent head-hitter and drill sergeant, but neither party had vision; this was what Cinder viewed as the difference between a rabble of bomb-throwing anarchists, and the burgeoning organisation which would prove to be her instrument of enforcement when she came to dominate the world's Dust trade through sheer caprice.
"You are." "Aware." "Of our price?"
To do this masquerade every time they got hired for kills, therefore, flew in the face of her principles. What made it more irritating was that the other two only did the theatrics for the hell of it. Three mannequins, neither male nor female, dressed in black with white, animalistic masks glued on the faces. A completely black room, with orange candle-light shaded to make the masks glow in the gloom. The three stood behind a false wall, with Cinder in the middle, Mercury to her left and Emerald on the right.
Each had a microphone that led to grilles above the mannequin heads. The rudimentary amplification that got used led to all three voices sounding deeper and completely different from their owners. It only served to spook the Jewish and Italian gangsters that usually employed them as stealthy assassins. However, it did nothing to frighten the well-bred mangled man in front of them.
"I am."
"Then give." "Us the name." "Of our prey."
Despite Cinder's protest, she and the others had practised their stilted speech incessantly until was perfected in 1885. Cinder took the lead first, Mercury second, and Emerald third. Much to their annoyance however, the man began to chat away.
"You won't need anymore than that. There's no mistaking her for anyone else, any more than you could mistake the Queen."
"The." "Name." "Now."
Silence followed, and Cinder swore that Hyde's eyes widened infinitesimally in fear. To his credit, he held his nerve, and delivered a name that no-one saw coming.
"I wish the death of Weiss Schnee."
Cloister bells pealed in Cinder's head as Hyde finished. She knew that, if it were anyone else of equal wealth, they would have refused his payment outright. However, Cinder also knew that Emerald would be insane enough to go for it, and Mercury loved a challenging target to kill. Combined with Cinder's vendetta against the Schnees, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. With her greed, vengeance and prejudice overwhelming her judgment, Cinder nodded silently and began the close of transaction, with Mercury dimming the lights.
"Let." "It be." "Done."
"She shall feed." "The hunger of." "The creatures of Grimm!"
6th of September, 1890.
"Cinder?"
Cinder Fall snapped from her reverie, and turned to face Vera as the clock struck ten. "What's happened?"
"Well, my two informants just arose from sleep. After we told them what happened, both Ayana and David claimed to recognise all three of the retainers."
"Is that right?", Cinder replied with faux gaiety. "Pray, tell me more about our foes."
"If you must," Vera ground out. "The problem with them is that all three are ill-advised targets."
"How so?"
"For starters, the brawler is Yang Xiao Long. Ayana once fought against her in a pit fight, and lost. She's also the one responsible for busting Roman Torchwick last year."
Cinder nodded; she never forgot the image of the dirigible plummeting into the Thames. "She won't go down without a fight, and she'll likely make waves in the process."
"Indeed," Vera replied. "Then there's the stealth fighter; Blake Belladonna. According to official records, she's the companion, secretary and bodyguard to Weiss Schnee – so that renders her out of the question."
"Heard about her already," Cinder begrudgingly admitted. The woman had foiled three assassination attempts, and was consequently numero duo on Cinder's kill list. Still, Cinder was no fool, and wouldn't dream of poking the bear while it slept. "What of the scythe wielder?"
"Ruby Rose is her name. She's unmatched with that weapon, and she's busted plenty of crooks, including Warren Burgundy. Although she's likely nothing to worry about if unarmed, she's well connected. Xiao Long is supposedly her half-sister, and therefore would be liable to attack anyone who harms Rose."
Cinder, however, had different ideas. "If that's the case, then have Ayana and David capture Rose, then have the rest of the crew ambush Xiao Long when she plays hero. Schnee will then feel honour-bound to intervene, and we can overwhelm her and Belladonna when they come to rescue their friends."
Vera was visibly impressed. "Very well. I'll order my enforcers to intercept Ms. Rose this evening."
Cinder smiled faintly as Vera exited her office. Damned useful, that woman. I'm tempted to keep her on after I leave for home.
At half-past twelve that afternoon, Ruby and Yang were out at lunch in a private restaurant on their way back home. Said restaurant was located within the heart of London itself, on the southern side of Threadneedle Street. Whilst preferring to dine at home, the sisters elected to do differently on this day because of their newly-found employment, which had just been confirmed at the Schnee Tower. It was an incredible piece of engineering, wedged between Cornhill and Lombard Street at Bank Junction, the nine-way spider's web of streets that marked the true centre of London. Whereas the Snow Castle was essentially an Alpine schloss that occupied the southern half of Holland Park, the Schnee Tower was a imposing spire of marble and glass, quite unlike anything else that dotted London's skyline.
Despite the fact that both sisters had been wearing combat clothes prior to entry, they weren't singled out for standing out by the snooty types within. Before they'd entered the restaurant in the first place, Ruby had released a few latches on the inside of her combat skirt, thereby causing folds of fabric to emerge from underneath. The resultant dress ended just above Ruby's ankles, and was a handy idea she'd devised in February to blend into her surroundings a bit better. As for Yang, she carried a jonquil skirt and white shirt-waist in two custom pouches that lay within both sides of her duster jacket; after all, Yang's preference for close-quarters combat ran a higher risk of injury and bruising, so it made sense to have an extra lining of silk protecting most of her vital organs. The fact that silk was capable of stopping bullets in their tracks didn't hurt either. Hiding her jeans within the floor-length skirt and taking off the duster along with her and Ruby's weapons, Yang blended in remarkably well.
After booking a cab to their home at three o'clock and taking their seats at the table, Ruby and Yang quickly ordered a pot of darjeeling and two servings of eggs Benedict.
"I must say," Yang said as the waiter walked to the kitchen, "I'm pleased to finally get some genuine respect from the wealthy. I owe Weiss big time for this one."
"I'm with you there, Yang," Ruby replied. "Working for Weiss in a capacity I can excel in means there's more to my worth than being a mere candidate for a political marriage."
"Not that Dad would ever willingly do that to you," Yang noted. "Still, last week was a doozy, what with my last mission."
"How so?", Ruby replied with some concern.
"I had to go out to Aberdeen as you know," Yang responded, "and I went to the greyhound races on the first night there; the starting gun killed my dog!"
Ruby groaned and piled her face into her hands.
Yang wasn't done. "And when it came to the mission, I had to infiltrate a museum to expose an art thief. When I caught the guy and dragged him out to the foyer, the guards arrested me for assault."
"Christ," Ruby whispered in resignation beneath her hands.
"The flight back wasn't great either," Yang continued. "There was a prostitute with a beehive and -"
"Yang," Ruby said firmly.
The half-Chinese brawler stopped mid-monologue.
"What's wrong?"
"You keep this up, and I'll bribe the waiter to pour beer into your hair."
That shut Yang up; even after lunch had been served, she remained unusually quiet.
A/N: Yes, I was introduced to Rodney Dangerfield when writing this chapter. And yes, I don't regret having Yang channel his style at all.
Stay tuned next week for the next chapter, where we run into some old friends.