It was of no surprise that Qrow Branwen had been having a difficult time recently.
Queen has pawns.
He almost wished he hadn't sent that damn message before checking in with the old man in one of their designated meeting spots. Everything had steadily gone to shit soon after that precise lapse in judgement. If only he had been able to give more information.
Such was the nature with encoded messages, however. In this day and age, there were too many watchful eyes. Too many witnesses, no matter where you went. No matter how you communicated with your superiors- as much as he hated to call the old man a 'superior'.
At the end of the day there was always somebody who would be watching your movements, once somebody knew enough important information.
After his message, a slew of information had been sent his way courtesy of one of the old man's dead drop locations. The message had contained instructions to investigate a shipping manifest from one of the cargo transports that had been sent to Vale.
From fucking VACUO.
Oum. He'd been reassigned to the other end of the fucking planet over a damn shipping manifest.
A direct flight from Vale to Vacuo, off the books of course, had taken nothing short of three straight days. By the time he'd made it to the damn private landing complex he'd all but collapsed on the ground. Special powers or not, he was not meant to be stuck in the air for so damn long.
How he'd managed to get to the damn tavern for the night's rest was anybody's guess. He sure as hell had no fucking clue. Sheer force of will, perhaps.
"So you're saying you need to inspect the containers? What exactly for?" a voice interrupted him from his musings.
Ah. Right. He was in the middle of the foreman's office within Vacuo Transport & Co. The space was rather dimly lit, with papers thrown about this way and that. It was easily far more unorganised than his old dorm room back in Beacon. Glynda would have a fit if she saw the place like this. Hell, he was almost tempted to snap a picture and sent it to the deputy headmistress, if he wasn't in a place full of twitchy workers that probably packed more munitions than even he did.
Also he didn't feel like it.
The foreman himself was a portly fellow. Overweight, underpaid and most certainly overworked given the current condition of the shipping industry. Water-based transportation was a dangerous business given the aquatic Grimm, which had been a nightmare for transport before bullheads were commercialised.
Yet it was still a necessary action, even in these days. Mass quantities of items simply weighed too much to be carried on a bullhead successfully. Transporting it all by bullhead would require multiple trips and cost a ludicrous price.
Thus any decent shipping company was a high risk, high reward gambit. Most sailors were armed to the teeth and rather distrusting of outsiders. Especially stowaways. It was a miracle in its own right that two stowaways had been found in Vale alive. Typically they'd be discovered during routine checks of the cargo and simply thrown overboard.
Suffice to say, being thrown overboard into grimm-infested waters was… well, it was a rough time to say the least. It was a horrible way to go, but it spoke volumes about the sailors and port authorities themselves.
The last thing that Qrow wanted was to have to interrupt a man this busy. It was hard not to feel sorry for the guy, even if he disproved of certain aspects of the career he couldn't help but recognise the sheer balls it must take to constantly send off men to face one of the worst terrain conditions a hunter or huntress could deal with whilst the rest of the world thought of you as nothing more than scum.
But he had a job to do. He of all people wasn't going to waste time with politics.
"Yeah. That's right. I take it you got the documents from Ozpin, yes?"
The foreman's expression soured distastefully, glancing off to a nearby stack of paperwork wedged in a small corner of the room. "... Might have seen some of it. Yeah. I remember. It's coming to me now. Some sort of routine seizure of something, right? Not uncommon, but it is when the officer isn't from these parts. Why in the world is a Vale official checking this out? Something happen with one of our shipments?"
... He hadn't read the damn papers, had he? Most likely the man had a quick glimpse and likely moved on. Great.
"You could say that. But for now, all I need to do is assess the contents of one of your containers to make sure everything's all well and good. Higher ups got word of some stowaways that may have messed with the manifest and they sent me to deal with it. Just show me the container and I'll be out of your way as soon as I can." he, well, he wouldn't call it negotiating.There was no actual negotiating with a man like this. It was more bargaining and hoping not to piss the man off too much that he'd blow a gasket and shoot him.
"Fine." the foreman huffed, "I don't know how in the world some stowaways could possibly mess with one of our manifests, but if what you're saying is true it would be a serious security risk. We'd be in some serious shit if we simply let it slide. So fine. You seem like an alright guy, so I'll let you do your business. Just don't take too long. We're expecting a freighter in the next couple of hours and the shipyard's gonna get too damn busy to allow outsiders. No offence."
Qrow snorted. Of course his dreaded luck strikes again and he just so happens to ask the foreman during a hectic time. But it was probably the only chance he was going to get. Once the freighter made port, there was no way in hell he was getting a look at the container. Dockworkers were notoriously untrusting individuals and, well, he wanted to get out of this dreaded place and back to Vale proper as quick as he could.
"That'll do just fine."
The foreman merely nodded as if expecting the answer. "Alright. Come. I'll lead you to it."
"Brothers of the White Fang!" Blake cried out to the crowd of gathered faunus, her Gambol Shroud held tightly against the neck of the human that had saw fit to use her former allies in some twisted robbery. "Why are you aiding this scum?!"
It was utterly absurd. When her father, Ghira Belladonna, had led the White Fang even he had never cooperated with petty criminals, even considering the connections they had. With Sienna Khan having taken over, things had become more violent but they had still held true to their belief that negotiating with the criminal underworld was beneath them. It was one of their core beliefs that even Sienna Khan would never have considered changing.
How could things have possibly taken such a drastic turn since her departure?
...Perhaps charging in and demanding answers hadn't been the best of decisions on her part, judging by the smirks that had grown on that faces of those she had once called kin.
She hadn't slept well, okay.
For once in her life she had acted on her emotions, rather than holding them in, and the dread pooling in her gut was telling her that it had been a terrible idea. For once she had stood up and faced her fears, rather than running away.
She just hoped that they would listen to her and cease this nonsense.
It ached to see her former allies becoming mere… henchmen. They would never stoop so low as to join forces with a human like this. What in the world were Adam and Sienna doing to allow something like this?! Had so much changed in her absence?
The human gave a half-hearted chuckle, amusement rolling off him in waves. "Oh? Didn't anybody tell you, girl?" he questioned mockingly, displaying a rather casual attitude for a man with a sword held to his throat. "The White Fang and I have entered a… partnership of sorts."
So it's true. A part of her mind thought solemnly. They're willingly cooperating with him. They've actually been reduced to mercenaries for some… petty vagabond.
"Tell me what you're planning."she hissed out angrily, her keen blade scraping against the skin of his neck. "Or I'm putting an end to your little partnership right now."
In response to her tired excuse for a threat, the thief merely looked up an approaching group of bullheads that were heading their direction. Several floodlights activated from atop the transports, glaring her direction. It stung against her enhanced vision.
Somehow, she doubted these bullheads belonged to the authorities.
Damn it all. She'd seen them all arrive at the docks via bullhead. If they were attempting to steal an entire Schnee company shipment of dust then they would need some form of transportation for such a large size quantity of cargo. She'd assumed they would have commandeered a ship or something, not split the shipment into a bunch of stolen bullheads.
This, of course, also implied that their operation involved far more than a few random White Fang grunts. How far above the chain of command did this go?!
"…'Little' might not be the best way to put it!~"
Blake was suddenly sent rocketing backwards, caught off guard by the bullheads as her apparent hostage shot a flare from his cane directly at the ground below them.
It was at that time that Blake wondered if perhaps it would have been a better plan to stay with Sun atop the warehouse and silently report the robbery to the authorities when they had the chance.
Within seconds she was fighting for her life.
"...I don't exactly know what you think you're going to find, sir, but I assure you that everything will be in order. We pride ourselves on efficiency here in Vacuo." the foreman huffed, stomping through the docks as he lead Qrow to the particular shipping container that ol' Ozpin had forced him to investigate.
True to what the foreman had stated before, the docks themselves were packed with expectant workers. Cranes were moving about shipping containers to various allocated areas and appeared to be clearing out a large section just off the harbour itself. Already several trucks had arrived with containers of their own. Night was rapidly approaching and already several floodlights had been switched on.
It was a complete frenzy. No wonder the foreman was pissed about having to direct an outsider to one of their completed orders in the middle of such a hectic time.
"Doesn't much matter, does it?" Qrow answered dryly, idly wondering if the foreman would be interested in grabbing a drink later. Bloke sure as hell needed to let off some steam. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get out of your hair and you can deal with whatever is going down over there."
The foreman glanced over at the side, wincing. "...Damn Schnee." he muttered angrily. "Been getting shipments like this for the past few months. Completely random. Only giving us the forewarning hours before the boats arrive with the stock. How in the world can they expect us to be ready to load more stock if they don't even give us time to prepare? It's lunacy. Complete and utter lunacy. World's gone to shit thanks to these damn dust thieves."
Qrow nodded understandingly. Several of his recent leads had been connected to various criminals groups partaking in the thievery.
It had taken some time at first to connect the dots, but eventually a connection revealed itself. A commonality between all of the various incidents over the past few months.
Dust.
All of the high-impact heists primarily focused on the mass theft of huge quantities of dust from wherever people could find it. Originally they had targeted smaller resupply outposts, before steadily upping their game and moving on to the more established outlets.
It had gotten to the point where most of Vale was suffering a severe shortage and the other provinces were having a tough time attempting to keep up with the sudden spike in demand. Schnee were making them all pay out the ass for the dust, of course, but there was little to be done when a single multi-national conglomerate held a monopoly on the ammunition.
"... Sounds pretty rough." He muttered.
The foreman gave a low, bitter laugh.
"You don't even know the half of it, sonny. But that's enough of that. We're here now."
Oh. Were they? He hadn't even noticed. All the damn containers looked the same to him, stacked up in the way they were. Huh. Guess the stress was getting to him.
Fucking Vacuo. Everyone's armed to the teeth and full of snark. Can't relax for a damn moment in this oum-forsaken area without worrying for your life.
It was a tad quieter in this sector compared to the parts he had been escorted past. Which was to say, slightly less densely packed than all of the other areas. There was enough room to fit machinery through the walkways, but apart from that it was about the same. He still was surrounded in every direction by these damned containers filled with who-knows what.
The shipping container he'd went across half of fucking Remnant to find stood in front of him, no different to all of the hundreds of other containers he'd seen recently, barring the different serial number on the side. He'd been expecting to see a forged number or some mix-up in the manifest.
...Checks out. Doesn't look any different. Number's the same as the one Oz says is in Vale at the moment… Too well done to be a rookie job.
"See. It's here. Like I told you before. At the office." The foreman stated. Qrow wondered if the man could insert any more agitation into his voice if he wanted to. "... You know. The place I'm supposed to be right now, before some Headmaster of a school in pretty, lovely STRESS FREE Vale forced-"
"Okay okay. I get it. Damn." Qrow cut in, an edge of annoyance cutting into his own voice as he fought off the oncoming headache. "Just open it up and get it over with. Please."
The foreman huffed something under his breath that would likely have made even a sailor flush a brilliant crimson hue, but complied nonetheless.
"...I would kindly request that you two please step away from the container, dear humans."
Both Qrow and the foreman both froze at the voice. A deep, rich baritone that had been less heard and more felt in their minds. Without pause, the huntsman pulled out his Harbinger; his signature greatsword/scythe.
"Who are you? Come out at once!" The foreman yelled out, his own pistol drawn as the man gestured around frantically, eyes searching all of the nearby shipping containers.
There was a silence. That, more than anything, concerned Qrow the most.
Mere moments ago the dock had been a bustling area filled with workers going this way and that. Whilst the particular crate they were after was off in the distance a bit, it was certainly not far enough to generate this level of stillness.
There were no birds cawing as the night came close. No sounds of cranes moving containers to their designated area. There were so distant sounds of ships drifting off in the distance.
Dulled sensory effects… perhaps that is this person's semblance? Qrow wondered inwardly. If they were able to affect their senses to such a degree, there was no telling where the man could be. It was the perfect tool.
Footsteps on metal. A jarringly loud sound amidst the artificial quiet. Qrow whirled around at the sound, eyes drawn to a particular shipping container. He felt the distinct sensation that the sounds he'd heard were purposefully left unmasked, which spoke of a degree of mastery above that of a petty thug with a useful semblance.
Damn it.
There was a man. A faunus, rather, standing atop one of the containers and peering down at the two with razor sharp crimson eyes that reminded the faunus of his particularly agitating sister. It was easy to see that they were the eyes of a killer staring back at him. A hardened, seasoned mind and a rather keen intellect were Qrow to hazard a guess. It wasn't every day that someone was able to creep up undetected on a seasoned huntsman, after all.
He wore a traditional black tuxedo and banded top hat, coloured in a lighter shade of grey. The tuxedo was adorned by a black bow tie and hid a formal white shirt underneath. Judging by the white furred faunus ears that poked up between his top hat, the man was clearly a rabbit faunus of some kind. Not unheard of in these parts, yet it was rather jarring to see a typically impoverished race wearing a sophisticated apparel.
"To think one such as myself would need reveal myself to outsiders… In this derogatory form, no less..." the faunus lamented animatedly, sighing even as he jumped down from his position with practised grace. "Truly, the Game has torn itself asunder as a result of a dearest seventh. A referee's job is never truly done, is it?"
"Game?" Qrow repeated, pushing the foreman behind him as he pointed his weapon at the odd figure in a silent demand for answers.
A slight narrowing of crimson eyes and a tensing of his fists was the supposed referee's only reaction to blade pointed his direction.
"You do not know what you are seeking. Hm. How far down the chain must you be, to not know of the Alice Game? Hmmm. No. Perhaps..." the faunus paused as if in thought as he pulled out a golden pocketwatch from his breast pocket and inspected it momentarily. "...Ah. I see. A world without the Rozen Maiden and, thus consequently, the Alice Game. No wonder you are unaware. She would not allow you to know, would she? Our dearest seventh truly has made a mess of things in her absence… How agitating."
Qrow grimaced inwardly as he watched the faunus chuckle at some inside joke only he would understand. Why was it that he always had to be the one dealing with the crazies? This was supposed to be a simple assessment, not some interrogation with an odd faunus in a tuxedo that appeared expensive enough to have a Schnee gaping in wonder.
"What is your purpose here? Why are you trying to stop us from getting close to the container?"
There was the slightest possibility that the referee as he called himself could be the man responsible for the trafficking incident, but Qrow doubted he held any high standing. The man's own title alone implied that he was simply a stepping stone for some other major contender. Likely he was a hired assassin of some sort, meant to clean up loose ends. Not the first Qrow had encountered during his missions and most certainly not the last.
The phrase 'seventh' also sent alarm bells ringing in his mind. Had there been other incidents of human trafficking that had been missed?
"My purpose is as I have stated before. Step away from the container. I request, furthermore, that you both leave this place and never return. Scurry along to your masters. This is not the place for outsiders, dear humans. I am sure you two have been taught the dangers of trespassing on private property, no?"
He waved a gloved to the foreman in a 'tsk' gesture, even as the portly man bristled at his admonishing tone. Qrow grimaced. It wouldn't do to start a fight with so many unknowns, even if the odd faunus was admittedly pissing him off as well. The sound would attract the other workers in the area if it happened to escape the faunus' odd semblance. Considering how heavily-armed and tense the workers currently were with all of the dust robbers, the ensuing firefight would rapidly spin out of control.
A bunch of heavily-armed angry dockworkers against a faunus with the ability to manipulate the senses? Yeah. Total slaughter.
As much as he hated to admit it, the only reason things weren't already completely screwed over was entirely due to the faunus. His semblance was the only thing keeping the peace, yet it could easily be used to ruin things at a moment's notice. Damn useful thing, he would admit.
Something inside of him, an old killer instinct honed during his time in the family, told him that the faunus would have no issue with combat if he was forced to do so. He certainly possessed the eyes of a hardened killer. Cold and focused. If the bloke did turn out to be a quirky assassin of some kind, he wouldn't be surprised if he had quite a few kills under his belt.
"But why." Qrow pressed further, if only to stall for time. "What's so important with this damn container, anyway? I'm only here to figure it all out, then I'll be on my way."
It was complete bullshit on his part, but it was all he could really say to get the guy talking. Now that the faunus man had revealed himself and complicated everything, there was no way that ol' Oz would be letting things go. The man was nothing if not a person who would grasp every delicate string of a conspiracy in the hopes of tearing it apart at the seams.
The faunus sighed heavily, reaching into his breast pocket and checking his pocket-watch again. A nervous tick, perhaps.
He's on a timer. Qrow realised abruptly. There's more to this than meets the eye. Is he waiting for something? Or does he have some place to be?
There were far too many unknowns. This simple mission had turned into something that would have Ozpin badgering him for months.
"...A curious mind. Rash and blunt, of course, yet smart enough to hold his tongue in a tense situation. You would have made a fine medium, were this world a different one. Perhaps to Suigintou..." he mused, stroking his chin. "...But enough with the idle speech. I have been given a command and, thus, I must obey. Leave this place, or be forcefully removed."
"Now listen here, you damn faunus!" Qrow was shoved aside as the foreman pushed forward before he was able to halt the man. "I am Gunner Cobe, foreman of these here docks. My word is law. I don't know who you think you are but-"
The man's head was swiftly separated from his shoulders mid-rant. Qrow spun around as quick as he could as he went for his weapon, only to receive a sudden kick to his abdomen that sent him tumbling into a nearby container. His back slammed into the metal wall, leaving a horrid imprint against the steel.
A single kick and his aura had dropped by half. What in the world were they feeding that man?! Oum, the man was faster than his niece. Easily.
The faunus sighed heavily, a gloved hand dripping with blood. Whatever it would seem that had been keeping the world silent had abruptly stopped just as the foreman was killed. Almost instantly he could hear shouts in the distance from dockworkers that had overheard the sounds.
"I do not have time for this." the faunus stated, eyes narrowed. "In honour of your likeness to one of my master's dearest creations, I shall let you live. Goodbye. I suggest you vacate the immediate vicinity post-haste. After all, I'm not the only one who does not take kindly to trespassers."
The faunus jumped before his could say anything, landing on a nearby shipping container and quickly disappearing from view even as gunshots from the trigger-happy dockworkers were sent his way. Before too long, he had disappeared out of Qrow's sight.
It didn't take a genius to know that pursuing the man would be a bad idea.
"Hands where I can see them!"
Qrow didn't know whether to laugh at his absurdly bad luck at accidentally stumbling into some horrid conspiracy or curse his very existence.
...He wondered if they would shoot him for reaching for his flask..?
'Probably not a good idea. Perhaps later, though. Scratch that. Definitely later.'
Ruby Rose didn't know what to do. Everything had all suddenly changed out of the blue and she felt like she was still catching up with things. She wished Wiess was here right now. Sure, she'd texted the Schnee heiress her location but until she arrived, poor Ruby was stuck looking at something she wasn't entirely certain how to process.
That had been happening a lot, actually, come to think of it.
Blake Belladonna -her TEAMMATE- was fighting the White Fang, alongside with the faunus boy that Kira stopped at the docks. The fact that she'd gone to some random boy she'd met at the docks instead of her own team… concerned her. She was supposed to be the leader of team RWBY. Blake should have come to her. Or at least responded to any one of her countless text messages.
She did wonder why Roman Torchwick had joined up with faunus people that hated humans, but perhaps this was one of those 'villain team-up' things that happened in a lot of those old films she used to watch.
Penny Polendina had also joined her in her search for Blake, only for the two to wind up overlooking Blake's confrontation with her (former?) group (terrorist cell? Bad guys?) when the sound of an explosion had alerted them to something bad happening at the docks.
And Blake was good. Better than good, really. She was kicking butt. She'd known that Blake was pretty good to have impressed her sister (who had pretty high standards considering she'd graduated at the top of her class) but even then… she hadn't thought Blake to be this freaking good. Oum. She almost felt sorry for the guys that had to deal with Gambol Shroud pointed at them. Who'd have thought ribbons and bladed assault pistols could work so well together?
...Though she did look a little frazzled. Oh! Was that a mean thing to say about a faunus? She didn't mean it that way!
...Blake's faunus friend had…. Well... Shotgun nunchucks. Oum. If she wasn't in the middle of overlooking a massive battle between her teammate and a bunch of baddies she'd totally be geeking out over such a crazy design. It was just too cool. If she'd had her concerns over the faunus boy, they were pretty much gone now. Nobody who owned a weapon that cool could possibly be that bad. Even if he had run from authorities or something. And threw a banana peel at said authorities.
But if it hadn't been for him then she wouldn't have met Kira. And now, here he was helping her teammate fight against the White Fang. And… Roman Torchwick of all people.
Why was the guy who wanted to rob dust working with the White Fang? Weren't they anti-human extremists or something? Wouldn't they beat him up the first moment they saw his weird outfit and the over-the-top makeup?
No! She was getting off track again. They hadn't noticed her yet. She needed to make an entrance. Surprise them. Use stealth. Which would then give Blake and the faunus boy an opening for a surprise attack! It was the least she could do. Even if that failed, she had a giant scythe and a lot of pent up stress to work out. So everything would be fineeeee!
'Wait isn't his cane a gun-'
"Hey!" she yelled out just in the nick of time, right before Roman could fire a point-blank shot at the faunus boy that had been helping Blake.
Combat briefly froze. Suddenly Ruby felt a lot of eyes staring at her. She fidgeted slightly as she extended her Crescent Rose. Her heart was fluttering nervously. So much for stealth.
Roman offered her a sarcastic wave. "Oh, hello Red! Isn't it past your bedtime?"
What was- it wasn't even dark-
Oh. He was making fun of her. Baddy speeches. If she remembered correctly, villains always had some funny words to say. In the movies she'd kinda liked some of their quirky speeches and witty banter.
Having them aimed towards her wasn't so nice.
"...Ruby." her orange-haired friend briefly attracted her attention as she walked up behind her with all the air of a girl completely out of her comfort zone. "...Are these people your friends?"
In that moment, her heart lurched for the girl. Perhaps it was a mistake letting her help out with finding Blake, but she'd felt really bad about blowing the girl off when they'd met and she hadn't had the heart to refuse Penny's offer to help. When they'd first met she'd been too busy helping Kirakishou to actually have time to introduce herself properly and had kind of bolted on the girl in favour of making sure Kira didn't wander off.
"Penny, get-"
She only had a moment's notice of hearing the actual gunshot before she felt the blast impacting against her chest. In a moment her breath was forcefully ripped from her lungs from the impact. Ruby felt more than actually saw aura abruptly flare up from the sudden attack before she was sent flying backwards from the sheer force alone.
Cold hands caught her before she could fall.
She knew those hands. Nobody else had hands as cold as that. Not even the ice queen that was her partner.
"Kira." Ruby rasped out as she struggled to get oxygen back into her bruised lungs, blushing slightly in both embarrassment for her friend witnessing her getting struck and the awkward position she'd found herself in. "Thank you, but you didn't have to-"
Her heart constricted painfully in her chest.
She froze.
From the corner of her eye she could see Penny staring at them with a quizzical look on her freckled face. She was torn between worry and bafflement.
It couldn't be. There was no way. It's not possible. Not in a million years. Never.
"There there. It's okay. You're safe. I've got you, my little jewel..."
That voice. That smile. The outfit. It was all the same. Nothing had changed.
"M-Mom?"