I'm not really sticking to the schedule... Whatever

Also oh joy, chapter eight is going like mollasses and oobleck.

05. Eat. Sleep. Repeat, To Begin Again.

'I do not wish to deprive you of your desire to travel.' Those words still rubbed him raw for a reason he wasn't fully sure of. It was true, he won't deny that...

'If you have a change of clothes then I may allow you to go to Vale. But you will need to wear some protection.'

Under his cloak he was wearing a surgical mask or sorts, the shroud on his cloak was apparently ineffective. He also had on black gloves that he must scrub with a 'hand sanitizer' after… well, it would've been easier to tell one what he shouldn't use it after.

Today he was closer to the entrance, there was a small store pressed between two of the office. And this time he bought a 'grape flavoured' soda. Luckly it didn't burn his insides as he took careful sips.

Gradually it got boring. No matter where he was it seemed as though the wonder he once held was now routine, like he lived in Vale. The buildings seemed to blur together and even though he once wondered how anyone could navigate the maze-like streets, he now couldn't care how the three different teahouses and clothes were identical to the previous three different teahouses and clothes boutique.

It was kinda inevitable, even the largest city he was allowed to enter was only the size of one of the quadrants, and more of a dogs breakfast ordeal.

'You can enter the stores, but the parlours or restaurants… try to avoid them please.' Ozpin was pleading-

I don't have to listen to him, right?

He protecting me, and I haven't had a decent meal for a long time…

I can't go anywhere without his permission!…

We don't have to worry about the disease. They'll take care of it… Right?

"Excuse me!" Oh yeah, he was standing in the middle of the street. He would've muttered an apology if he could, but when he heard them grumble something, he thought it wouldn't have made a difference. The sun grew larger over the horizon as it quickly approached dusk, and around him the small grouping of people dried out as they walked the path he was taking.

This should be the time that he returned to Beacon. But… He didn't have to, right? He didn't have to heed his warnings about eating wherever he wants, he didn't have to come back to Beacon…

I'm going to die dammit. I'm not going to wasting my life like this...

More walking ensured. He knew that the bullhead drop points were past a hair salon that was down one road. So he took a wide berth, passing by a local library, its smooth round green walls allowed it to stand out among the surrounding buildings sharp angles. There were some people sitting on the steps, looking forth into the sky. There were no lights on in the building however, presumably it was closed for the day. Down a random street the base of the holographic street lights lit up, giving the city blocks a faint glow as the crowds disappeared around him. All that was left were the nightwalkers.

The seedy underbelly...

Assuming of course, this was the place they congregated. At a noodle store, with ornate golden text juxtaposing a imprecise translation of the words printed in a rounded, childish font.

It was surprising that this worlds languages was very similar to the languages he had learned before. He never could find himself going rusty with any given language because of how small and interconnected the world was, and he would often meet the same people in new was this one man, he spent his early days drinking his sorrows away. The next, next town The Drifter rolled into, he was a line cook at a soup kitchen. In fact the décor of this establishment was very similar to that place, with its purple walls and coppery tiles, and those ceiling lights that would flicker at regular intervals...

Who came first?

This new worlds source of energy came in a crystallized form, unlike the pink sludge made from- organics. It was supposedly very high in energy, and yet sold without care to anyone. The sludge in contrast was highly regulated because of how volatile it was.

in the store was in before they had these massive tanks full of coloured powder right in the centre, and you could purchase and fill a canister for only forty-five Lien, or four blue cards and five red ones. And he did, a full canister of yellow 'electric' dust now hiding in his drone. Silent to all. This world may not have had personal drones or digitizing technology, but the elemental dust didn't just come in the four classical elements. There existed dust that could manipulate gravity for example. So it wouldn't be too difficult to make something hover around someone.

As he seated himself an odd musty smell made itself known, as did a man wearing an all white apron, who shoved a menu into his hands and didn't care when he winced at the approaching triple digit prices. They ignored his second wince when the man sitting two seats next to him slid his chair back, the high pitched whining gave The Drifter goosebumps. A tap on his shoulder pulled his eyes back up to the waiter, who was staring at him with a brow raised. Hastily he ordered what he assumed were egg noodles in beef broth, with boiled eggs and cutlets on the side. Without any hesitation the waiter marched back into the store. Looking back at the stall the man was in he grimaced once again at the size of the bowl.

It's rather small...

The ceiling fan sputtered loudly as the waiter shouted their order into a door, not that it mattered as they were also shudderingly loud. As quickly as he ordered it, the bowl of noodles was dropped onto his table with a pair of chopsticks jabbed inside. Even though he spent much of his time speaking other peoples languages it was still a new experience trying out new forms of cutlery. He remembered one place where people would sit on the ground in a line and eat with their hands. With inexperience he began to scarf down the food, feeling the stares dot his back like thumb tacks whenever the noodles would slip from his grasp.

The meal had costed him only 60 Lien, and he opted to use most of the red cards. Twelve cards down and a belly full of food. He sought out his next source of interest in his shortening life. The sloped road led back down to the harbour, it was just as quiet as he left it…

Where was I Before… Ah-

The sight was now cordoned off with yellow tape and reflective cones, the blood he puked had been scrubbed off. It was all illuminated by a solitary light, it seemed to spotlight the region and made It look all the more watched, even though he couldn't even hear a scuttling roach.

"Brothers!"

Except her. It was coming from the docks, what was happening? Without realizing he was already clambering over the chain-link fence. His droid chirped once again, this time at the sudden spike in his heartbeat. From afar he saw what seemed to be a hostage situation. The hostage in question was a man in white. Being held by someone… it was hard to tell since they – or she if they were the voice – wore black and held something up to their throats. He scuttled in-between the surrounding crates, peeking over to see what was happening. She, it was a she, and she was giving a speech about working with the 'humans'...

Wait, why am I here!?

Shouldn't I help people..?

But I don't belong here… This seems personal, her eyes...

Those surrounding the two were inching closer, pointing their rifles or brandishing machetes, the machetes in particular looked blunt and worn out. The speech continued and The Drifter could feel the animosity leaking from everyone else. From the woman who was seething at her 'comrades' for their betrayals, and the workers - who were called the 'White Fang' - were angry at what the woman was saying. But the man stuck between the two was rather odd. He seemed more bored of the rant, and would occasionally roll his eyes as she talked before he deicided to interrupt.

"Listen, listen. Why don't we put away the blades and guns away, and-"

"Zip it." The blade pressed against their skin which had a faint orange glow. The man winched and raised a hand to the approaching swarm, who refused to put down their weapons. "I think she means it." even as she forced him down to her height he still maintained a degree of cockiness, from his tone to the nonchalant way he dug through his pockets and fished out a cigar. Its ignition had let out a little hum that was audible even from-

He didn't remember why he did it, but he found himself exposed in the open, the clanging of a blade which had punctured the spot he just was alerting everyone to him. The grunts looked shocked behind their masks. The girls eyes bore into him. His hand was on his weapon which had ignited on instinct, his legs were wound up, inching further away and his head was scanning at both groups. The person who attacked him - a woman - wasn't surprised with how he dodged. In fact, she was smirking…

"Oh? I didn't know you brought backup. You are smarter than you look." The man had said, slowly pointing his cane between her legs. There was a click and he whispered "But not that smart." Suddenly the area she was standing on erupted into flames. The girl was flung backwards scrambling for purchase. While the man quickly rolled to a stop, rising up with a flourish of his cane. Quickly looking back at the person who attacked him, she was rather short but exuded this, strange energy field. Which was pointing-

Again, by instinct he had dodged another stab from her umbrella, the original vision of her had disintegrated into a pink cloud and the real one began her assault. Thrusting and slashing and pushing further into his space, when he caught her on her back foot and dashed forward with his fast swings she weaved around them whilst attempting to skewer him.

She would've landed a hit if The Drifter hadn't dashed away to the grunts surrounding them, their yelling and name-calling were drowned out by the cocking of their guns.

Just before they could open fire he plunged his blade deep into one of them, staining their vest a deep red and unearthing a scream of agony as they fell to the floor. Everyone surrounding them took a step back as they pointed their guns, but still not shooting, were they too scared?

Dashing up to them and killing them was too risky, but way too easy. The ones with guns hesitated firing at the man as they were surrounded by their own men and were cut down for their inaction. The people with their hefty machetes wasted their time with bold slashes without regard for the difference in blade length and were punished for their mistakes.

There was a group of three workers too far away for his sword so on instinct he materialized his Blunderbuss. The dragons head spewed blazing shrapnel that pierced into their flesh without effort and ignited fabric. The workers agonizing screams as they flailed around forced everyone else to halt and take a step back, even the girl who was watching from afar crinkled her nose at the charring flesh in front of her.

How fresh were they? Well, they made their bed…

Was it really wrong to kill them? Especially if they started it. Even if they were children? Even if he didn't know who they were and what they were doing here? He dived towards cover as they opened fire simultaneously. From a distance the black haired girl was joined by a blonde man in an unbuttoned shirt, however, even together they were not strong or skilled enough to deal with the man, who was perfectly blocking every swing from the both of them. Calling for his pistol he bolted out of cover, serpentining around them. One, Two, Three. They fell over clutching their new wounds, whispering about the pain or outright sobbing. Their rifles clattered to floor right in front of them, but no one sought to fight back.

The screams of the Blunderbusses victims had petered out at some point, and The Drifter could hear retching sounds as the crowd around began to disappear. They were retreating, for a good reason, the field was a mess. their allies were cleanly sliced into chunks. Some were still alive, silently sobbing as condensation spilt from their mouths for the last time. There were entrails sitting on the instep of one of his shoes, and his cloak – while the same colour as before, at least under the moon light – was sticking to the back of his shirt, hugging him in their coppery smell. He heard the battle between the other three peter out, and one of them was hit with something. He felt the salty wind come to pick up the victims souls, and he felt the same energy stalking from behind.

Another simple sidestep, and she seemed rather annoyed. She eyed him carefully, like a predator, her vibrant outfit was rather murky under the weak dock lights, but her pink eyes were glowing. She pointed her weapon, an umbrella, at him again and began to walk slowly towards him. One hand behind her back, like those old fencers he once watched.

Prodding?

Perhaps she was surprised that he dodged the attacks. Her face was now stony, her lips were pulled into a frown and her movements were more slower and deliberate as she inched her way closer to him. His blade was still by his side, as he watched and waited for her to slacken…

The hum of some machines made both of them turn their heads to their sides, behind one of the many warehouses several bullheads were rising, their backs were turned to the city and the fractured moon encircled the escapees. Once again, by instinct he stepped back, the sharp point of her umbrella would've punctured right though him. Another swing of his blade and she stepped back, dashing towards the fleeing bullheads, but for a split second he could see a scowl on her face. Looking back to the vehicles one of them hadn't moved yet. Maybe waiting for her…

I should… shoot at it?

It didn't matter. Beams of green energy soared through the sky, tearing the surrounding aircraft into pieces. The sound of tearing metal was loud enough to be heard from far away, it clawed at his ears, he could feel his veins undulate as the blood was dragged around his body. His stomach churned as it folded under itself and he felt his arms locked in place, pinned by his sides.

"Do you think that this is… one big joke?" Her voice was calm. She was much more content with showing her anger as he felt the cartilage in his joints be squeezed out. She walked slowly towards him, There was a radio by her side, it chittered something he couldn't hear due to his pounding ears.

"Yes, he's here… And so is Team RWBY." She sighed into the device, It was guttural noise, like the gargling last cry of a Dirk. She walked ahead, keeping him still bound mid-air before releasing her hold. The glare she gave her way told him enough as she marched over to 'Team RWBY' cracking her whip.

"Does he actually know how to use Lien? I'm not insulting him, mind you, I do agree with the idea of giving him some extra money, regardless of the-"

"Please Ozpin, The migraine is coming back."

"Ozpin, you cannot just let Patient Zero wander off. Even If he wants to be free, there are still eight people suffering, and we need him to find the cure!"

"...There's a few more actually…"

"How is research General- ...What did you say Headmaster?"

"...Ozpin, What do you mean by more patients?"

"Four more people were sent to the ICU - they came from the villages, Doctors couldn't find anything."

"Goddammit!"

"When did you know about this…"

"Just before you came up."

"If they came from villages then how many other infected are there right?"

"I could send teams to monitor the villages he visited."

"Yes, we could. If we knew where they lived."

"Ozpin?"

"Don't tell me..."

"They weren't from any of the villages that he went to. I tried asking one of them while they were still lucid and they claimed they had never met him before…"

"The information exchange, what about that?"

"…"

"Conveniently, they didn't set it up."

"...Haaah"

"Ugh, this is a nightmare…"

END

More next week, we're almost half way there.