I'd like to apologize for how long it took to crank this chapter out. But this semester has just taken its toll on me. So, thank you all for your patience.
But more importantly! Hellbreaker, Baoh joestar, Shaded Azure and VergilxSparda! Thank you all for your comments and reviews, they;re both enjoyable and insightful!
Also, as mentioned by Hellbreaker, there was a discrepancy with the group name 'Blimey Cocks', which were originally named 'Blarney', I changed it to demean this group of nihilistic mass murderers even further. It just turned out I didn't change all the names.
Anyways, more notes below, I hope you enjoy the chapter!
LIV
Tears of Venezier: Part 4
"What the hell, Sky?" Dove spoke quietly, visibly hurt by the turn of events.
Standing within the confines of a large tent, surrounded by artifacts older than Russel could properly discern, with the men who'd subjugated the entire town of Venezier and its people standing before them, both the Thrush and his colleagues were faced with a terrible revelation. When both CRDL boys had set out to this town, they did so in hopes of finding their missing friend, only to now have that very same man siding with the people who'd practically enslaved an entire town.
Russel wasn't a stranger to betrayal, Hegemony Marlowe had seen to that. But that didn't change a thing, it didn't dull the shock, numb the twist of the knife. The sight of Sky pointing a gun at both himself and Dove just left him feeling bitter.
"…Sky," Dove addressed his partner once more, the hurt look on his face deepening. "What's going on here man?"
"Like I said earlier, we're on the verge of the most significant discovery of the century." Sky said, a slight smile appearing on his face.
"And that justifies what you and these people are doing?" Dove turned and pointed to Kruger and his men, who soundly kept Danny and Marie-Anne pinned in place with the guns they pressed against their heads. "They're murders, Sky, what they've done to people, it's grossly inhumane."
"Yes," Sky nodded. "I've noticed." With a sigh, Sky set the gun aside and gestured to Kruger at opposite side of the tent. "Doctor, would you please help me explain to my friends what it is that we're doing here?"
"It would go against everything I believe if I were to not. At the end of the day, if nothing, I am and educator." The good doctor straightened his shirt as he took a step forward and slowly approached Dove and Russel. "Best to keep things civil, hm? I don't we've been properly introduced." He said extending a hand to the pair of CRDL boys. "I am Dr. Augustus Kruger. Ecologist."
Both Russel and Dove glanced at extended hand and then past the man back to Marie-Anne and Danny. Though the man before them had dressed it their current predicament with the formality, their situation remained the same. Should they make wrong move there would be nothing to stop Kruger's men from killing the pair of dunces. As it appeared, their best course of action would be to play along, for their sakes and the CRDL boys' own. However, that very much wasn't Russel's style.
"Thrush. Russel Thrush." A smug smile graced Russel's features as he reached out, accepting the handshake. The Thrush then tightly squeezed his hand around Kruger's, earning a slight look of surprise from the man. Though it appeared Kruger had full control, with his men to his back and their guns aimed at the rest of Russel's team, the Ecologist had no direct power over the Thrush.
"Yes, civil." Kruger's eyes narrowed at Russel as he quickly withdrew his hand from the Thrush's grasp, wincing slightly as he cradled it. "Though I am beginning to doubt you're capable of such a feet."
"Russel, you're hardly in the position to be an ass, now at least try to be nice. And Doctor, please, pay him no mind." Sky said, quickly setting Kruger to ease and piquing Russel's interest. The Thrush then glanced over his shoulder, back to Sky and found the Lark, returning his attention to a journal on his desk.
With a content nod, Kruger continued, though he kept his gaze fixed on the Thrush standing before him. "You must be wondering why it is that we've come here?" He rhetorically asked. "Well, if you were to open your eyes for just a moment, you'd see exactly what has been in front of not only yourself, but also the thousands of people who've lived in Venezier."
"You mean other than the bunch of assholes standing right in front of us?" Russel delivered dryly.
"Russel, you're doing no one any favors acting like this." Sky said as he turned to face the gathered lot of people once more as he scribbled down onto the journal.
"He's not doing anyone any favors?" Dove shot his one-time partner an incredulous work. "Look around at who you're siding with Sky!" He shouted as he pointed to Kruger and his men, specifically to Coyote. "For goodness sake man they butcher people!"
"I'd hardly call them people." Kruger stuck his nose in the air. "Over the last century society at large has been expected to treat Faunus the same as we would treat ourselves. But I refuse to hold myself under the same light as one of those animals. That's why we're here, me and my men, we've come here to Venezier to answer one of life's greatest mysteries: the origin of Faunus."
"And yet you're here, digging down an old abandoned mine in an old abandoned town." Russel glared.
"You still fail to open your mind to the obvious," Kruger shook his head, clicking his teeth together in a disappointed manner.
"Russel, I'm your friend, I've always respected your intelligence," Sky chimed in, as he flipped through the pages of the journal in his hand, proceeding to scribble down another note. "Now please, quit playing dumb and acknowledge the truth before you."
Russel cast his gaze from Kruger to Sky and shot the man a contemptuous look, finding it somewhat insulting that he was attempting to appeal to whatever part of him still considered them friends. But then he paused and centered his thoughts on Sky's words. His scornful glare softened and he turned to the myriad of artifacts strewn about the tent on atop the boxes with the fancy 'W's.
There, Russel found adorning each and every artifact the image of three separate swords aimed downward. It took the Thrush more than a moment to surmise why the image felt so familiar. The swords depicted on the artifacts were the same that the kingdom of Vacuo flew on their flags.
"Surprising isn't it?" Kruger laughed, catching the room's ear as Russel connected the dots. "What are Vacuan artifacts doing all the way out here in Vale?"
"I have a sneaking suspicion you're going to tell us, aren't you?" Dove sneered.
"Have you two ever heard of 'The Sentinel of Vacuo'?" Kruger questioned, earning only silence in response. Sighing, the good doctor continued regardless of the two Huntsmen's cooperation. "The Sentinel of Vacuo is an old folk hero, he alone managed to unite the nomadic people, ushering in Vacuo's golden age. He was a nomad, a scholar, and a teacher who collected vast sums of knowledge throughout his journeys for his own personal study, including which we believe to be the origin of Faunus."
"But then, after a lengthy tenure spent watching over the growing kingdom, he disappeared, never to be seen again. The knowledge he'd gathered throughout his years lost forever…until now." Sky said, earning the room's attention. "We believe this is where The Sentinel disappeared to. We believe this is where he's keeping all the knowledge he'd amassed."
Hearing this, Russel couldn't help but scoff at the notion. "Just because you found some old pots in the ground, doesn't mean you've found The Sentinel."
"That's where you're wrong, Russel." Sky smirked as he marked his place in the journal, bending one of the pages ever so slightly then shutting it closed. He then raised the book, presenting if for both Dove and Russel to see. "Dr. Kruger is not the first person to come looking for The Sentinel's amassed knowledge, there have been others."
"Some years ago a team of Vacuan Huntsmen had journeyed to Vale, believing they had uncovered The Sentinel's last known location. Only two came back, and neither disclosed what they'd found. Until me and my men…" Kruger paused as both Pepper and Coyote cocked their weapons. "…persuaded them."
Having picked up on the double meaning to Kruger's words, Russel simply glared. "For an 'Ecologist', you sure seem to have a lot of blood on your hands."
"No matter, what's done is done, and for the good of humanity as a whole. As now we are just days away from finding The Sentinel's vault." Kruger said as his smile grew wider.
"My goodness," Russel shook his head as he placed a hand on the Uzi attached to his belt. "You're such fucking tool."
Kruger paused, looking upon Russel incredulously. "I beg your pardon?"
"Didn't catch that bit, eh?" The Thrush scoffed before elbowing his fellow CRDL teammate. "Tell him what I said Dove."
"He says you're a fucking tool." Dove quickly blurted out in disgust for the men standing before the pair.
"Let's get one thing straight here, Dr. Feelgood, you're an asshole." Russel spoke harshly cold, unlike he'd ever been known to before. "But even then that's giving you too much credit. Because you're not even here because you've managed to connect the dots, or found the road map to The Sentinel, you took it from people. All your progress is built off the backs of others. You've achieved nothing." Hearing these words leave the Thrush's mouth, the good doctor couldn't help but pause and take a step back.
"How dare you!" Kruger shot back, his patience with Russel clearly having run thin.
"And let me guess, that's also why you recruited Sky, right?" Russel jotted a thumb over his shoulder back to blue haired CRDL boy. "He's not only the son of two of the world's leading archeologists. He's a damn good one himself. The Scrolls of Nevermore right? Yeah, he told me about that too. So please, elaborate how you're so close to finding something other people found years before you did. Go on, talk mad shit about how good at reading other people's work you are."
Kruger leaned forward until he was only inches apart from the Thrush, giving him a good look at his now fuming features. "I'll have you skinned alive for that." He threatened.
"I don't doubt that for a second." Russel smirked, noting how close the good doctor now was to his person. He'd played the game, done the dance of words and bided his time, now was the time to strike.
Without warning, Russel thrusted his head forward, bashing it against Kruger. The good doctor must not have much combat training, or perhaps he even lacked an aura, the strike would have dazed most, but for him it had Kruger falling backwards. That proved to work against Russel as now he found himself racing against a collapsing body. The second Kruger hits the floor is the very moment the men standing opposite of him unleash hell.
So Russel quickly shot a hand forward to grasp Kruger by his dress shirt, while his free hand rushed to draw the Uzi attached to his belt. One fluid motion and he'd claimed his human shield. He pulled Kruger back to his feet and spun him around so that he'd face the men. He maintained his hold on the doctor, throwing his left arm around his neck, then he jammed the end of the Uzi against his back.
"Holy shit Russel." Sky muttered as the one sided hostage situation was flipped on its head. The gathered Blimey Cocks and Kruger's mercenaries maintained their focus, their hands still on their weapons, each one hesitant to take a shot lest they hurt the doctor.
"Dove," Russel glanced to his fellow CRDL teammate, finding the boy who could fly having drawn his weapon and aiming at the walking slaughterhouse of a man Coyote. Having caught Dove's attention, the Thrush nodded backwards to their former teammate. "Be a pal and relieve Sky of that journal would you?"
"No Sky don't!" Kruger shouted in protest, only for Russel to press the gun further against his back, earning a surprised yelp.
Dove did as he was told, spinning around and turning his sword on his partner. Dove drew in a long breath before sighing as he wordlessly extended his hand to the man he'd for a time considered a friend, now it pained him to consider him an adversary. Sky met his partner's eyes and frowned. He glanced down to the journal in his hands and nodded. He then reached out and placed it in Dove's outstretched palm.
"Maybe, but if you read it, you'd see things differently." Sky muttered, turning to meet Russel's own stare. And for a moment, the calm collected visage of his features dissipated, looking akin to a pleading desperation. But the Thrush paid it no further mind, turning his attention back to the group of armed individuals standing across from himself.
Dove simply shook his head with disgust, his weapon still trained on the amateur archeologist.. "We've been called many things, Sky, 'bullies', 'thugs', but we're not mass murderers. No words in a book will change that." With that said, Dove returned to Russel's side and turning his weapon back on Coyote as the standoff continued.
"What do you hope to accomplish with that?" Kruger sneered as he eyed the journal in Dove's hands.
"Not much," Russel muttered, speaking the utmost truth. The journal itself mattered little to the Thrush, its significance to Kruger and his men was what truly mattered. "Keeping it out of your hands though sounds pretty good."
"You sound so certain." Kruger laughed, earning a confused look from both CRDL boys. "Coyote, deal with them." He laughed once more.
Both Dove and Russel turned their gazes back to the mercenaries and assortment of Blimey Cocks, and to their surprise, the most menacing of the bunch had vanished from his place amongst the group. Russel raised a brow and opened his mouth to voice his confusion, only to for crudely bandaged gloved fist to strike him from the right, sending him spinning and knocking him away from Kruger.
Dove spun around, finding Coyote towering to their side. The abattoir man extended a hand to the fallen doctor, who'd gladly taken it. With little obvious effort, Coyote pulled to Kruger to his feet. With the good doctor out of the line of fire, all hell began to break loose. A number of the Blimey Cocks began to open fire, causing Dove to jump behind a crate for cover and Sky to jump to the floor.
Stunned only momentarily, Russel recomposed himself and drew his Uzi once more. Momentarily recalling his lack of experience guns, the Thrush pushed aside his doubts and opened fire. He'd chosen the Uzi because of his lack of skill, he lacked precision, but faced with a mob of gunmen and a hail of bullets, the last thing he needed was to be precise. He just needed to shoot, he was bound to hit something.
"Watch it will you!" Marie-Anne shouted over the gunfire, causing Russel to pause. They still had both DNCE members as hostages. That just complicated everything.
Faced with the possibility of accidentally hitting either Marie-Anne or Danny, Russel held off on the urge to let loose with his newly acquired Uzi and opted to move for cover. Crawling on the ground, Russel made his way to a stack of those boxes labeled with fancy 'W's. But before he could reach it, he felt the same worn bandaged glove hand snare his ankle and pull him back.
Russel didn't need to even look to know who it was. He grimaced, quickly attaching the Uzi back to his belt then reaching for the dagger. He then spun around, prepared to stab at Coyote's hand, only to find himself impaling his dagger into solid ground. A puzzled look graced Russel's face as Coyote had vanished. He then felt another brick fist strike him from the side, knocking Russel into the line of fire.
He got to his feet, the hail of gunfire whipping past him. Russel saw Dove who beckoned for the Thrush to join him behind the crate where he hid. He took a step and began to run, only to feel a sharp pain dig into his chest. It hurt, unlike anything he'd ever felt. And then he felt it again, that sharp pain that burrowed through his leg.
Russel lost his footing and fell back onto the ground. He raised a hand to his chest, right to the epicenter of the pain and pressed hard, feeling the damp warmth of his drab hoodie. He raised his hand to his face and stared at a familiar crimson. Russel could hear Dove shouting to him, but it just seemed so unreal. Part of his brain was screaming for him to run, to keep moving, and yet he couldn't, not because of the searing pain he felt in his chest and leg, but the shock. He just couldn't move.
"Russel!" Marie-Anne shouted as she watched the Thrush take another hit, knocking home back onto the ground. "Dove get him out of here!" She shouted to the CRDL boy hiding behind the crate. The Oakwood native then jumped upward, throwing all her weight forward and tackled the man holding a gun to her head. Danny followed Marie-Anne's example and tackled his gunman. But the DNCE leader didn't stop there. He then threw himself forward, knocking over a pair of men in front of him.
Noticing the commotion amongst the Blimey Cocks, Dove took the chance and sprinted for Russel. In one swift movement, Dove threw his sword at the far wall of the tent, cutting through it and creating an opening, he stuffed the journal into his pants, not enough time to attempt forcing the damn thing into one of his pockets and then he scooped up Russel. Without warning, Dove took off flying, jetting off the ground and through the opening and reclaiming his sword on the way out.
A part of Dove wanted to pause and look back at their faces, knowing they'd all be slack jawed at the sight of a man flying. But he had more pressing matters to attend to. In his arms, Russel clutched his chest, his hands covered in his own blood, a pained expression on his face.
The next few moments were crucial, every second counted, there was no time for second guessing, Dove had to commit to a plan of action. He couldn't worry about Danny or Marie-Anne, he couldn't think about Sky's betrayal, he had to get Russel help and soon. Turning his gaze back to Venezier, Dove shot across the sky as fast as he could, faster even, faster than he'd ever gone before.
Russel was coherent, conscious of everything happening around him as he clutched his chest. It burned all around his wounds, he could feel his aura attempting to repair the damage. Russel had long ago come to terms with the fact his aura simply wasn't the strongest, there were few blows he could withstand and could sustain his semblance for only a short amount of time. It also didn't help that the rounds were still lodged inside his body.
He could feel the air around him crash against him as Dove raced off at top speed. He knew what the fellow CRDL boy planned just by the way they appeared to be flying back towards Venezier. But the trip was long, as they already knew. Even traversing the distance by horseback was tedious. And Russel felt every ounce of pain the whole way back into town.
A top speed Dove reached the town in a grueling thirty minutes. The entire trip an endurance test. The flight capable Huntsman felt like he'd been running for hours, as if he hadn't slept in days. Along the coast he flew, before arriving at a familiar cove. Dove landed at the front door of the cabin, he raised a fist and smacked beat against the door.
"Redhorse! It's us! Open the door! Please!" Dove shouted, hoping the recently freed physician would answer his call.
The locks behind the door turned with n audible 'click'. Cracking open only slightly, Redhorse verified the identity of his visitors. What he saw at his doorstep earned as gasp from the older man, the sight of the bloodied Russel and the exhausted form of Dove. The doctor threw the door open and ushered the pair inside before shutting the door behind them.
"Set him up on kitchen counter." Redhorse ordered, keeping his voice calm, knowing fully well the last thing the pair of huntsmen needed was a panic.
Dove did as he was told, laying Russel down on the counter. The Thrush in haled sharply as his back made contact with the tile counter top.
"He's been shot." Dove muttered as he collapsed onto the wooden floor.
"I can tell." Redhorse said as he quickly went to work scrounging up makeshift medical equipment. "I thought aura was supposed to heal wounds."
"…yeah…so did I…" Russel muttered as he stared up at the wooden ceiling.
"I apologize, but I have few options here." He said as he pulled a pair of tongs from a drawer and the sewing kit above the fridge.
"…ugh…" Russel grunted weekly as he watched Redhorse gather equipment from the kitchen. The doctor then approached the Thrush and handed him large glass bottle of rum. The Thrush looked to the doctor, who frowned apologetically. No doubt had they possessed actually facilities Redhorse would have provided a proper form of anesthesia. Sadly, that just wasn't the case. Understanding, Russel took a healthy swig from the bottle before handing it back to the physician.
Redhorse then poured the alcoholic beverage over his wounds, earning a pained cry from Russel. The physician then drew a freshly cleaned blade from the kitchen sink. "The tongs are too big, I'll need to make an incision." He muttered before raising both tongs and knife. "I won't lie to you, this is going to hurt."
Russel couldn't even find it in himself to offer a retort, he just felt the man cut him open and dig. He couldn't tell anymore if he'd screamed, things began to get too fuzzy. His vision began to blur, the ceiling above taking on grainy properties as the room spun. He could hear Redhorse at his side, cursing profusely while Dove was laid out on the floor below, too tired to offer any assistance.
The doctor strained as he dug the tongs into Russel's chest before steadily removing the cooking utensil. With a wet pop noise, he withdrew the tongs the hurriedly placed a hand atop the wound and applied all his weight onto the Thrush.
By now Russel should've been out cold, even bled out, but he still hung in there even as one of his ribs gave way against the pressure. If he wasn't already shouting at the top of his lungs, he sure was now. The next thing he knew Redhorse was stitching him back up, cursing the entire time.
Russel should have been ecstatic, it appeared to be over. But then he remembered he'd been shot three times. Two more times Redhorse cut him open, two more times he dug through him and removed the pair of slugs embedded in his body. Twice more he was stitched together and then finally left on the counter, left still and unmoving to feel the gravity of his pain. The aches, the fractured ribs, the holes torn into his flesh.
"I've done all I can." Redhorse announced as he stepped away, taking a heart swig out of the bottle of rum. "Now lets hope that aura of yours can pull its weight."
"…not too confident in your abilities doc…?" Russel spoke weakly, turning to find the local doctor standing to the side, propped against a wall, his hands covered in the Thrush's blood.
"I never had to fix someone up like that before." Redhorse shook his head, visibly shaken by the surgery. The physician then finished the bottle in one final go before tossing it to the wayside.
"...for what it's worth…?" Russel caught the man's eye. "…I think you did great…" He muttered, earning a smile from the older man. The Thrush then attempted to sit up, only to burst into a coughing fit, hacking up blood all over is already stained hoodie. "…oh fuck…"
"As your doctor, I recommend bed rest." Redhorse said pointedly.
Russel struggled to respond, already too out of it. Knowing full well such a thing was impossible given their current circumstance. Marie-Anne and Danny were captured and the rest of Venezier was under occupation. Not to mention they'd just stolen their journal. In spite of his light headedness and poor excuse of an aura, Russel continued to mull over their options. They'd stolen something of great value from the enemy, which meant they'd be wanting it back thus opening the door to another predicament.
Turning his head against the counter, the laid out Huntsman glanced downward to the wooden floor to where Dove rested. The flight capable CRDL boy looked winded, his clothing and armor drenched in his own sweat, looking as if he'd been put through a triathlon. And that wasn't exactly far from the truth. The man had flown the entire way over.
Centering his thoughts on Dove's semblance, Russel was given pause. Dove had flown straight to Venezeir against the backdrop of a clear blue sky, literally anyone could've seen them. Realizing this, the Thrush hurriedly called out to Dove.
"…Dove…you still with me man…?" The Thrush spoke as he peered at his friend through puffy red eyes. The CRDL boy gave a half nod. "…we weren't followed were we…?" He asked.
But before the exhausted Dove could form an answer, the loud booming of car engines caught the trio's ears. Against his better judgement, and much to Redhorse's protest, Russel threw himself off the counter, landing weakly on his feet. The Thrush winced in pain as he moved to shift his weight to his left leg in order to compensate for his wounded one. However, it was only a waste of effort, Russel was disoriented, and he'd lost too much blood. He was already falling over.
Dove shot off the ground, quickly catching Russel before he could collapse. The flight worthy CRDL boy set his comrade down, lowering gently on the nearby sofa. The sound of cars drew nearer with every passing moment, a sudden sharp feeling of dread descending upon the gathered trio. None of them were in the exact kind of shape to fight. It would be a slaughter for sure.
Outside the cabin, they could hear the cars reach a stop by the sandy beach, right beyond the cove and jagged rocks lining the still water shore. They could hear the engines die and the car doors open, the thunderous clap of dry desert boots sinking against the damp grains of sand.
"We know you're in there, come on out!" The faux Sheriff, Brussels, boomed loudly. "You're either coming out, or we're going in there. You're choice! Either way, we're getting what's ours!"
"'Getting what's ours', could this guy sound even more like a jackass?" Dove wondered aloud in an annoyed tone. He then turned his attention to Redhorse, who quietly stood in the back of the kitchen, looking unsure of himself and the assembled group's chances of survival before finally bringing his gaze back to Russel's wounded form. "So…what's our plan?"
It absolutely bewildered Russel, how Dove looked to him as if he knew just how to save the trio from their awaiting death. Neither of them were leader material, that was made clear the day of initiation, when they were passed over for the role of team leader. Dove was inexperienced, capable of acting on a whim such as flying away, but it seemed unlikely that he could spirit any of them away in his tired state. Redhorse was a civilian, a doctor who'd been put through hell under Kruger's occupation of the town, and given by his fearful shaking, he'd have little to offer in the way of an escape plan.
So it fell to Russel to think of some sort of strategy that would prolong their lives, even if it were for only a few brief minutes. The fresh wounds ached, the throbbing of his chest, the brief lightheadedness a reminder of how close he already was to death's door and how unlikely he was to perform at his peak. But wounded as he was, Russel knew that was no excuse, no proper justification to lie down and let the men outside storm into the cabin and kill them all.
The Thrush sharply inhaled, that pitiful aura of his working overtime to mend his body and brace his mind. There were a thousand ways this could end poorly, and he thought of all of them. Should they run, they'll die. Should they fight, they'll die. The extremes of their situation, ever so bleak. So, the Thrush mused in his pained state, perhaps he'd try something he was good at.
Russel turned and met Dove's stare. "…You trust me, right?"
"Yes." Dove said without hesitation.
The Thrush nodded. "Still got that journal?" Dove smirked, reached into his pants and produced said journal. The Thrush then reached into his own pocket, producing the box of matches they'd procured from the Blimey Cocks camp back in Old Venezier, then handed it off to Dove.
Dove looked at the matches and nodded knowingly. He then helped Russel to his feet, aiding the Thrush to the cabin door. Once Dove had propped Russel against the door, the Thrush silently pointed to the window facing the front of the cabin. The boy who could fly then took his position, ready to do his part.
Russel glanced back to the kitchen and caught Redhorse's eye. It was the role of the Huntsman to protect humanity, it was his job to protect this town and its people; that included the doctor. So Russel put on a brave face, cracked one of his smirks, all just to reassure the man that they had everything under control. However, that couldn't be further from the truth, they were horribly outmatched, grossly outnumbered, and terrifyingly outgunned. But that didn't mean it wasn't worth a shot. He then reached out for the handle, the last vestiges of doubt and fear washing away, and cracked the door open ever so slightly, only to announce his intention to the men outside. "Alright, I'm coming out! Hold your fire!"
"You look like shit, Russel Thrush." Brussels muttered, adding emphasis to Russel's name as the mercenary and his cadre of Blimey Cocks trained their rifles at the Huntsman. "We'll be taking the journal now."
The smirk that Russel had forced onto his face turned genuine, even slightly amused, as familiar feeling of contempt surging through him. His eyes narrowed, centering on Brussel's and the Sheriff's badge that adorned his chest. Russel had always had issues with authority. "Heh...that's cute." His voice carried against the quiet and still ocean. "You actually think you're in control of the situation. Dove, educate the man." He averted the men's gazes to the window, where Dove raised the journal into the view, followed by an ignited match.
Brussels cocked his gun. "You even think about burning that and we'll gun your assess down!"
Russel scoffed at the threat. "Leave. Or we burn it. Before you can 'gun our assess down'."
"We still have your friends." Brussels countered.
"Then drop them off at our door. Unharmed. Or we burn your goddamn journal." Russel's voice boomed as he held himself in the doorway, doing his best to keep himself from falling over.
"Go fuck yourself, kid." The faux Sheriff sneered defiantly.
"This isn't a negotiation." Russel held himself steady. "You need the journal. And we can cook smores off of it. Now give us back our friends."
"Oh look who grew a spine, you think you've got this all worked out, don't you?" Brussels laughed in a mocking tone. "Well I'll just let you in on a secret, tough guy, we can find Sentinel's library without it! All that thing does is save us time and resources. Now, you either delay us, or you don't. Now hand it over."
"Give us our friends back." Russel shrugged, completely indifferent to the case the Sheriff had presented him.
The faux Sheriff threw up a hand and gestured to the men who'd followed him as well as the vacant cars that they'd rode in on. "Does it look like I got your goddamn friends?"
The Thrush jotted a thumb in the direction of Old Venezier. "Then go get them."
"Pfft." Brussels shook his head. "Can't believe I'm having this conversation."
Russel had played this game before and was willing to risk their lives on the sheer fact that he was good t pissing people off. It was time to double down. "Take the journal back inside Dove, do what you will."
"What the fuck you think you're doing now?" Brussels exclaimed as Dove whisked the journal out of view.
"I don't know, I think I'm talking out of my ass while my friend there is doing who knows what to that journal." "Perhaps he's even burning it. You'd never know."
Brussels glared. "You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?" Russel grinned ear to ear. "Look at me, shot three times, patched up by kitchen appliances and forced to play musical chairs in word form with a scumbag wall of meat who thinks wearing goggles on his head makes him look refined or some shit. To sum it all up I'm having a really bad day. If that journal's burning, I might satisfaction out of this after all. But you'll never know, would you?"
The faux Sheriff's expression softened, betraying a look of confusion. "What the hell are you on about?"
"If a tree falls, and nobody's around, does it make a sound?" The Thrush wondered aloud. "Is the journal burning, Brussels? Has it already burned? Or is it fine and dandy? Ask yourself that. Did you just fuck up and impede Kruger? All because you thought you could strong arm us? Or maybe you've got nothing to be worried about, all you have to do is give us back our friends. So what's it goin' to be?"
The mercenary glared at the Thrush and held his gaze for a good long while. Russel watched as the man shifted the gun in his hands, no doubt he aimed to simply gum him down where he stood, then test his luck with Dove. But the deathblows didn't come, the faux Sheriff remained where he stood and lowered his weapon.
"Town square. Sundown." Brussels said as he turned his back to Russel. "Bring you're the journal. No debate, no further negotiation. Shake us around and we kill your pals."
Without any further exchange of words, Russel watched as Brussels and his men loaded back into their trucks, watching as they departed no doubt back to Old Venezier to relay their bargain with Kruger. But even after they'd gone, even with the dust kicked up by their tires had long settled, Russel remained vigilant, propped up against the door way, not taking any chances with this wily bunch of sadist. For all he knew they'd just driven out of view and set to return on foot and catch them unaware.
But it wasn't any of the Blimey Cocks who'd caught Russel unaware, but Dove himself. The outstretched hand belonging to his teammate and friend grabbed a hold of the Thrush's shoulder, startling the wounded Huntsman and causing him to fall over. Dove, himself too drained from his earlier exertions, lacked the reflex to catch Russel, allowing the man to hit the porch face first.
"Well, that went well." Dove quietly remarked as he set to helping Russel back onto his feet.
"You really think they'll hold up their side of the bargain?" Redhorse's voice emanated from within the cabin. The local physician having left his spot from the kitchen and made his way to the front of the beachfront property.
"Oh, they're gonna try and screw us over the first chance they get." Russel muttered bitterly as Dove and Redhorse helped him into the home, setting the Thrush down in the living room. "Any chance I could get something to drink?"
"Sorry, we'd used up the last of the alcohol." Redhorse frowned, looking apologetic.
He rolled his eyes. "…Great."
"So what do we do?" Redhorse asked.
It was all a numbers game. There were three of them against a hundred of them. It was dire odds, but perhaps they could turn the tide in their favor. After all, surely not everyone in the town was content with the new regime. "Redhorse," He called out to the local doctor. "Is there any chance we can get the rest of the townsfolk to help?"
"I don't know, I can't say for certain." Redhorse shook his head. "You must understand, these past weeks have been terrible. Those who sided against the Blimey Cocks, they were hung or cut down alongside the Faunus."
"They're afraid, I get that, but we need help." Russel all but pleaded.
"I'm sorry," The physician's head hung low. "I don't think anyone will come to our aid."
"So we're screwed then?" Dove questioned aloud.
"Not yet." He turned his gaze back to Dove and lazily gestured to the journal in his hands. "Flip to the marked page, would you?"
Dove squinted at his fellow Huntsman, as if he'd gone mad. "I don't think some whack job lines scribbled in a book is going to help us, Russel."
"I'm playing a hunch that we're not as alone as we think we are. Now turn page damn it."
Begrudgingly, Dove did as he was told and flipped through the journal, reaching the current marked page. Gazing upon the plain white paper, he found a message written in black ink. "…This doesn't make any sense." Dove spoke aloud as he looked to Russel in confusion. He spun the journal around for both Russel and Redhorse to see. There it read, 'Help. Undercover'. "But he joined them…"
"Your friend must've been playing the long con. "Redhorse deduced.
"Sky was sent here on a mission." Russel reasoned, recalling the story Goodwitch had told them of how Sky had come to be in Venezier.
"Yeah, I get that..." Dove trailed off before shooting a worried glance Russel's way. "But what exactly is his mission?"
"-And so I told them, Town Square at Sundown." Brussels said, finishing his tale of his standoff with the Huntsmen.
"It's a good trade, that journal is irreplaceable, after all." Sky quietly remarked as he stood at the back of the tent where Kruger and his mercenaries, along with the Blimey Cocks' leader had gathered. He crossed his arms over his chest and twirled a pen in one hand.
"Of course you'd say that, they're your former pals huh?" The burly Pepper sneered. "You practically gave them the journal! Whose side are you even on?!"
"Russel would have shot Kruger if I hadn't." Sky countered coolly, not at all fazed by Pepper's accusation.
"You don't know that. Coyote would've gotten to him before that could happen." The stout mercenary gestured to the silent slaughterhouse of a man who stalked in the corner of the room.
The son of the Remnant's leading archeologists scoffed as he stuffed his pen into his back pocket. "It's so reassuring to know how easily it is for you to gamble with your employer's life." He smirked as the realization hit Pepper like a brick wall.
"Oh you little snot, I'd beat the shit out of you right now!" Pepper shouted, lifting up his sleeves and raising his fists.
"But you won't, will you?" Sky taunted, leaning forward off against the table and meeting the man face to face. "Idle threats. Get the program, you're a hired gun, I'm an archeologist. You break people's legs, I find the Sentinel's cache. Know your role." He spoke coldly.
"Enough with this petty squabble." Kruger spoke up, causing both Pepper and Sky to snap to attention. "Sky's efforts ensured my survival in a tense situation."
"Thank you, Doctor." Sky nodded.
"But the fact remains, you did hand them the journal." Kruger's tone quickly changed, a small tinge of contempt coating his words. "I can't say we can trust you to play a part in the transaction. You shall remain here at camp, continue our work, while we deal with your former comrades. Understood?" The good doctor instructed, earning an understanding nod from the once and former Beacon student.
"Yes, Doctor." He nodded once more.
"Good. Now be gone, there's work to be done elsewhere and I will see my property returned." Kruger said, turning his back to Sky as he and his men gather around another table to prepare. "I will see my property returned."
Sky nodded then turned to depart, leaving both Kruger and his mercenaries to deal with the tedious preparations for two wounded Huntsmen. Typically, this would be the part where Sky would shuffle back to his research tent, where he'd mull over the artifacts they'd recovered and categorize their importance. Instead, Sky made a detour.
Down past the old decayed saloon he went, past the abandoned brothel and the withered mines where the Faunus slaved, Sky went and entered the temporary stables where they kept the disenfranchised. Past the disinterested Blimey Cock sentries he traveled further to the back, where he found two beaten and bloodied Huntsmen.
"You're a goddamn disgrace." Marie-Anne spoke as she looked through a black eye, up to Sky with an icy gaze.
"And you're tied up with rope. Not exactly in a position of moral authority are you?" Sky remarked rhetorically as he walked past the Oakwood native, strutting towards Danny.
"You're supposed to be a Huntsman. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Danny muttered, staring dagger eyes at Sky.
"Last I checked, I was still a student, hardly a full-fledged Huntsman." Sky cited.
"You're deflecting the argument." Danny's glare intensified.
"And you still don't get it." Sky spoke coldly before reeling back his arm and punching down at Danny across his face under the watchful eyes of the nearby sentries. He then leaned down and pulled Danny close to his person. "Never let an opportunity pass you by." He muttered before shoving him back down.
Danny fell back and Sky turned to leave as the sentries moved to haul the downed Huntsman. But despite the bloody nose he now sported, Danny held a content face. He now held the tool to his and Marie-Anne's inevitable escape in the form of the pen he'd received from Sky.
The oh so important journal is the McGuffin that Kruger and his men had stolen from the Faunus Ghetto back in the Nebula arc. So overall it was nice to tie that back into the story.
Russel's inferior aura is brought to the forefront of this chapter, as well as the topic of semblances in Dove's case. It's odd how in RWBY only a select few ever go on to be Huntsmen, and foreseeably less people possess an aura, given Jaune's case some people just don't know about it. I like to think its a cultural thing in Remnant, where only true Huntsmen and Warrior are born when they manifest their aura, usually through tests of hardship or trauma like how it was for Ren in the show and here for Russel. Of course that social taboo is going out of style, seeing how Pyrrha unlocks Jaune's aura for him, and in the context of this story, even Russel suggests back in the first arc that they simply unlock everyone's auras rather than risk certain death at the hand of a trapped Grimm.
Russel's aura is faulty and unreliable, unable to stand against the minimum amount of damage, and even incapable of sustaining a semblance except for brief stretches of time. And that's despite the fact that it manifested on its own. But in the show, Jaune is noted by Pyrrha to have a surplus of aura. And his was unlocked for him. So there's also those factors to think about. It may be genetic, but the aura is supposed to be an extension of one's soul...which should speak volumes about the characters portrayed in this story.
I like portraying Sky as the person who can stand against even the most imposing of individuals, even if we didn't see too much of that in this chapter. He's a good Archeologist, that runs in his family's blood. But he's an even better Huntsman.
Last chapter we saw the introduction of this character, Redhorse, and he's really the only meaningful character the cast has met in Venezier. To that end he's supposed to represent the face of the town, to be their connection to it. To know that this is a town they can still save, a town that want's to be saved and that they themselves want to save.
Anyways, that's pretty much it. I'll probably have much more to write about in the next chapter's authors notes.I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Until next time! Later Days!