Legends. Stories scattered through time. Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting the exploits of heroes and villains, forgetting so easily that we are remnants, by-products, of a…" "AChOO!" *snff* "Gah, I can almost feel the irony", these words, uttered by a half scowling lad at a counter weren't entirely unfounded. A half pseudo-allergic reaction to dust never paired well with an occupation that literally forced you to handle it. One would wonder why he had a job in a dust shop in the first place.

The bell tinkled, the entrance door opened…only to end up revealing a young girl in what one could only describe as a Goth Lolita getup, she hummed a cheery tune as she absentmindedly waved at the lad moving toward the magazine corner of the store. He made a small wave back in polite shopkeeper fashion.

Yes, one would wonder indeed.

The boy's scroll rung, he stared at it pensively, sighing he picked it up. He Inhaled… "Yo Ro', what's up, what's the call for, worried about the store again? Didn't the doc tell you to rest your heart. Is it about the new recruit? If so, don't even bother, he's already half as good as me, and yes that's a compliment, don't think otherwise. Worried about me cause it's my last week working for you? Worried you won't get anymore customers without my dashing looks behind the counter." He paused…., the other end was silent for a short moment, a shorter intake of breath was heard and then an aged voice began its own rant

"I didn't live this long to not know that your planning something brat" "I.." "Ababaappapap…. I don't care you rascal, you earnt my trust a while ago so I let you 'convince' me into resting at home this week, I wouldn't stop working at the shop just because of a little heart trouble, doctor be damned, bu", "Well I..", "BUT…I trusted you, look just make sure that the shop gets out in one piece because I know for damn sure that I don't need to worry about you. Take care kid, don't hesitate to call if you need me that's all I wanted to say"

*Brrrrr* the line got cut.

The teen had a twitch in his brow 'Then why call at all you damned geezer, tch can't get a word in edge ways when he starts speaking', and no, the irony was not lost on him.

He sighed again, there wasn't much use getting annoyed, as much as the guy's eccentricities managed to bug him there was no doubt to the respect that he had for the old man. His knack for spotting out anything remotely suspicious was one of the many reasons that the boy managed to end up working for him in the first place.

*Tinkle* went the bell as a group of suited men shuffled into the store, led by a lavishly dressed bowler hat gentleman toting a cigar.

"Well here we go…", he muttered glancing at the clock, "The window installer should be here soon, better make this fast"

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Goon

The job, as our type of 'jobs' go, was meant to be simple.

Go into shop.

Look intimidating.

Steal from said shop.

Have little to no guilt because of premium insurance policies.

It looked like a simple job too, except for the part where we were hired to follow Mr. Up and Coming himself, Master Thief sensation, Top Ten in Remnant Most Fashiona… Torchwick, we were led by Roman Torchwick. God knows why he was leading a raid on a small time dust shop but in our line of work questions rarely came with answers….well answers in any form that weren't a bullet sized hole in the face.

I digress.

Back to the job, I knew the dust shop personally, run by an old timer who just didn't seem to understand the concept of retirement. But you know as they say 'don't look a gift horse in the mouth', so we enter the shop and the first sign to leave immediately came in the form of someone other than an old man running the counter. A young man, no more than 18 at the most. He had a cap on that was wide enough to cover most of his face as he had his nose deep in an issue of 'Remnants Insider'.

His feet were propped onto the counter as he read on a plastic stool.

I mean the kid didn't even look up when we came in, It wasn't exactly the greatest treatment of customers, but hey who am I to judge right? Anyway, we couldn't even see his face at the time, but the guy seemed to ooze familiarity, I was a little concerned up until our resident Flamboyant ala Thief Hirer decided to speak up.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a dust shop open this late?"

And the boy snickered…. can you even imagine that, sure it sounds cliché in hindsight but can you imagine being in front of 4 hired thugs and a semi-famous criminal and snickering?

So we're all thinking that the situation is rather odd, meanwhile the kid lowers the magazine a bit, leans forward and hits a button underneath the desk. We all stand on edge for a moment thinking he hit a silent alarm when the glass to the dust crystals slowly lower themselves and he once again against all expectations jerks his thumb towards the dust pipes to the side as he goes back to reading his magazine.

Yeah, a little odd indeed, Roman shrugs and signals to the new guys to go fill up the cannisters, then he looks to me and this other guy…ummm….Barry, yeah that was it the guy was Barry and he pauses as he looks at us cause we were frozen stiff.

See, we both realised who was behind the counter.

"Anything wrong muscle brains? I'm not exactly paying for you to be standing around, please be a couple of dears and do something that merits hiring you", and I'm about to tell him to shove it six ways sideways in order to explain to him what kind of fucked up we got ourselves into until I feel a chill run down my spine. Kid behind the counter has one eye glaring at me, I'm lucky enough not to soil myself with the amount of pressure he gave off, so I decided to choose my words rather carefully.

"Uhh, no boss, sorry", I grip Barry's shoulder and lead him away as the kid gives me a tiny nod and goes back to reading his stupid magazine. Me and Barry release the breath we didn't know we were holding.

I catch my breath in the corner while Barry being the good little goon he is notices a customer still in the shop, a small girl in a black dress too distracted by her own magazine to understand that the shop was being raided. I only hoped that the rest of the job went smoothly and we got out of the shop as quickly as possible.

This thought lasted up until I heard the girl ask "Are you robbing me?"

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I'll Improve, Bear with the Grammar and Half-Baked Story-Telling for a Little Longer