Roman Torchwick sighed and smiled. He leaned back in his leather office chair, propped his feet up on the desk and looked out through the shattered office window, over dusty old train station. It was dark, with most of the light coming from just a few strobe-lights set up for him and the few other humans hanging around. Dim outlines of train cars, crates and old work buildings filled the environment, with vague figures moving about between them.
At his desk once sat the manager for the place, but now that was all long gone. Now it was just him, overseeing those terrorists packing dust up into the train. And those animals had really gotten a hang of their jobs. Not that it was hard to pick up and move boxes...
These were the last couple days of their plan, and soon he'd would be able to sleep again. He'd been up all night helping them make the bombs and carefully setting them on the train, as the red in his eyes and the bags under them attested. If only for a few moments now, he could close his eyes…
Something poked the side of his head.
"Ugh." Roman groaned and glanced to the side.
Neo had crept up beside him in the derelict office. She smiled and tried to poke him again with the tip of her umbrella.
Roman batted it away and sighed. "What, are you really that bored? Just going to come up here and mess with me now."
She grinned and nodded excitedly.
Roman scowled. "Why not go screw with somebody else? Go stab one of those grunts or something."
Neo pouted and signed.
"You want talk to me? Sheesh, what kind of puppy are you? Following your master all around?"
Neo scowled, but her face only made Roman laugh.
"Awwww, look at the little puppy all riled up." He reached a hand out to pat her head but Neo stepped back before he could, frowning acutely.
"Oh fine," Roman said. "What's on your mind?"
Neo's grin widened, then she started signing.
"The Commander tried to talk to you?"
She nodded.
"Yeah, he's kind of creepy, right?"
She nodded again, then signed. Roman carefully observed her for some time, taking in each formed word.
When she stopped, he responded: "Sounds like he was trying to pry up some more info about us and Cinder. Well even if we told him everything we know, I doubt he'd get anything new."
Neo nodded signed again, then smiled.
Roman smiled as well.
"Well then show me, come on."
Neo took out her scroll and pulled up a picture for him to see.
Roman squinted and viewed it. "Huh, a lot younger than I thought he would be. A lot younger. Wonder if that's why the Commander doesn't want anyone seeing his face…"
But of course, it was hardly difficult for someone like Neo to simply follow him, invisible, and snap a picture when he eventually took off that creepy mask. The Commander and Cinder wanted to keep his identity secret, but Roman Torchwick doesn't like being left in the dark.
"Well I don't recognize him, but we can pass that on to Junior and try to learn more."
Neo nodded and stashed the scroll back in her pocket.
"But other than that, what else did the guy say?"
Neo signed.
Roman scowled. "He called you pretty, huh? Well the Commander's a creep, hope you didn't take any of that seriously."
Neo frowned and signed.
"Yeah it would be stupid. Good girl. Don't fall for anything the guy says, as nice as it might be." Roman shook his head. "Sorry if I'm coming off over-protective, but they're bad news. Haven't felt like this since the one time we tried to work with Vacuo Mob." Roman scowled. "But these guys are worse, if only for the fact that they're not just psychos, but psychos with skill."
Neo nodded and signed.
"Right, as long as you stay careful. And make sure to keep looking over your shoulder after I get locked up."
Neo frowned.
"Yeah, I don't like this plan any more than you do, but hey, you'll be my knight in shining armor soon enough, right?"
She beamed.
Roman, despite being sleep-deprived and rather displeased by the upcoming reality, felt happy.
"Don't worry Neo, we'll get through this no problem—"
A knock sounded from the door, before it opened.
"Torchwick," said the man, voice heavily altered by the gas mask he wore. "The Commander would like to speak with you. He's waiting."
You are the Lone Wanderer
Jaune had not heard that name in a long time. Not since he'd come to Remnant, had that terrible, vicious, miserable person's name been spoken aloud.
And here he was, being condemned to that identity by a deathclaw, of all things.
"How…" His voice, a shaky whisper, was pathetically quiet in that dark-lit room. His eyes were open wide, staring unblinkingly at the impossibility before him. The very existence of this beast should not have been allowed, let alone it's ability to speak, or the knowledge it had.
But deep down, Jaune knew exactly how it had gotten here and how it knew who he was.
A second more passed before his wasteland instincts kicked in. Before him was the apex predator of Earth, and here he was standing and gawking like an idiot.
He snapped out of his surprise and instantly crouched down, picked up Crocea Mors and hopped back. He brandished the ripper-sword, hand on the trigger, and yelled, "how the fuck are you here and how do you know me!?" .
"The lightning machine brought me here," the deathclaw said. Even though Jaune had readied for battle and was now yelling, Orion nevertheless spoke calmly and made no move in response. "The one in the Enclave's laboratory, where I was kept. I assume it is what brought you here as well."
"I…"
The lightning machine. That was an apt way of describing the haywire alien device which had sent him here.
"Of course it did…" He muttered. His chest still felt tight and his throat felt clogged. His face had heated up and he felt his palms were intolerably sweaty. His breathing came in short, rapid intakes and exhales. He shook his head. "I…"
"We are friends," Orion said. "You and I."
Jaune shook his head again and scowled. "That so?" His voice was pathetic, more like a raw, shaky croak than the combative, aggressive demeanor he could normally portray.
"It is," Orion said again, quite matter-of-factly. "Because the enemy of my enemy is my friend." The deathclaw spoke calmly, so the deep voice and growl sounded civilized.
Jaune squinted in confusion. "What the hell…"
"You fought Beauvais," Orion said. "I saw it."
"You… you did?" Jaune's fingers lifted off of Crocea Mors's trigger—slightly.
Orion nodded. "They kept me in that lab, in a steel container. Thick walls too much for me to get through." Orion looked down at his hands, covered in long, tapered claws. "They kept me there alone, in that container. Only a little grill let me look out and see and hear. One day I was sleeping, but awoke to the sound of explosions, shouting and shooting. I looked out. I saw the fight. I saw Bishop and someone in power armor fighting."
Orion pointed one wickedly sharp claw at Jaune.
"It was you, in the armor. You took off your helmet and proclaimed yourself the Lone Wanderer and your intent to kill him.
"I watched you fight, and I wished desperately that you would win, so I could see him die." Orion sighed, shoulders sagging with the rush of air. "But such was not meant to be… the lightning was shooting everywhere. And then a bolt came for me…"
"An alien teleporter…" Jaune said. "That's what it was."
"Alien?" Orion tilted his head, quizzical.
"Yeah, like from outer space."
"Hm." Orion hummed, a sound which was more akin to a rumbling growl. "I did not know aliens roamed the wastes."
"A few here and there," Jaune replied. "I ran into them."
"Hm."
Again with that thoughtful growl. It put Jaune on edge, made him adjust his stance and hunch his shoulders. Nearly everything in his system told him to run, or to fight, or to do something other than just stand there and have a conversation. But anyone who wants Bishop dead…
"I only ever saw aliens in the comics," Orion said.
Jaune's head perked up. "Comics?"
"Comics," Orion affirmed with a nod. "The Enclave made us smart, edited our genes. Then they taught us. As we grew, they gave us comics and picture books to help us learn to read and speak. I would always like the comic books, even as I got older."
"Huh." Jaune blinked. He readjusted his grip on Crocea Mors, to one not quite as tight. "I always liked comics, too."
"I liked Grognak," Orion said.
Despite the situation, Jaune let out a slight chuckle, and a little smile. "I did, too."
Orion nodded once more. "The Enclave gave us books to read and movies to watch to help us learn. So we'd be smart. So we'd be able to fight best for them." Orion shook his head. "But they were fools. You cannot raise something to think like a person and then expect it to serve like a pet."
Jaune lowered the tip of Crocea Mors, a position less ready for action.
"So the Enclave made you, raised you… but you didn't want to work with them?"
"Yes," Orion said. "They wanted smart deathclaws to help them kill. At first, our kind did that. My parents told me that they would work with the Enclave because they were grateful, because the Enclave made them.
"But it became obvious soon that the humans would never treat them like equals. They gave us scraps for food, demanded we work hard, kept chains on us.
"So we tried to escape, when I was still a pup."
Jaune looked at the huge deathclaw before him, then tried to imagine it as a 'pup'. A cute little deathclaw? Those existed? And one with loving, thoughtful parents? The only deathclaws he'd ever known were the vicious ones, the indomitable predators. He'd run into a few juveniles, sure, but even those had hissed at him—before he blew their brains out.
"I guess your escape didn't go so well," he said.
Orion shook his head. "Many of us were killed. They shot at us from their vertibirds. My father died. My mother and I were brought back."
Orion shifted. The movement made Jaune grip his sword more tightly for a moment, before he saw that the deathclaw was only turning to show Jaune a narrow scar along his side, running across his ribcage.
"This was done to me by one of the soldiers hunting us, when I was captured."
The scar was thin and long, and it looked like a burn.
"Can you guess who did this to me?"
A swell of anger came to him, and Jaune sneered.
"Bishop."
"Yes," Orion confirmed. "He had that flaming sword. And he pressed it to my side while I was chained up. And he laughed."
Orion's lips peeled back, a hateful bearing of teeth. That didn't frighten Jaune; in fact, Jaune approved of it.
"That is why we are friends," Orion said. "You are an enemy to Bishop Beauvais, and so am I."
Jaune stared at Orion. No more words passed by them for a few moments. Then Jaune moved Crocea Mors.
The ripper-sword grated against its metal sheath as he put it away.
"Bishop took everything from me," Jaune said after sheathing his sword. "He killed my father, and he killed my team, and he almost killed me." Jaune crossed his arms, then nodded. He felt the tightness in his chest fade, replaced now only with a busy anger and newfound sense of camaraderie.
"An enemy of Bishop is a friend of mine."
Besides, if Orion had really desired to kill him, then Jaune would certainly be dead. He could have ripped his head off the moment they got out far enough from his team.
"Good, good," Orion said, nodding. "I am glad for that, very. The first person I meet from Earth, and it is an ally."
"I'm the first?" Jaune asked. "Well what a coincidence, you're the first for me, too."
"Hm." Orion growled calmly, a little habit that Jaune had already recognized, and the sound started to bother him less.
"My name's Jaune, by the way. Jaune Arc. I left the Lone Wanderer back on Earth."
"Hm. Good to know that, Jaune."
"And you? How'd you get named Orion?"
"One of the books the Enclave gave us was on constellations. My mother liked thinking about the stars, even though we couldn't see them through the smog, even though we were often in cages. She named me after a constellation." Orion sighed again, a tired sound. "She was a good mom."
"Oh." Jaune glanced to the side. "I never knew mine. She died when I was born."
"Hm. I'm glad for the time I had with mine."
Jaune didn't ask for him to elaborate. He could guess her fate, and he didn't want to hurt Orion by making him explain it. So he decided to move on to the resolution.
"Well I did kill him," Jaune said, smiling sadly. "So after everything he took from us, at least we can know he got what was coming to him."
Orion's eyes widened and he shuffled on his feet, clearly excited. He brought his hands together and clicked his claws against each other. "You did? You did it? How? Was it painful for him?"
"Sadly, it wasn't. It was very quick. I threw a mini-nuke at him and he got vaporized, blown into little smithereens, nothing left."
Then he nodded, absolutely certain.
"He's dead. The nuke went off on time and he's dead," he said, each word tough and resolute. "That bastard will never bother me again. Or you."
"That is good, very good, very good, thank you." Orion bowed his head, leaning so far down that the tips of his horns touched the ground. "You did a great thing. Thank you." He rose his head, then hesitated, then brought it down for a second full bow. "Thank you."
"It was all my pleasure," Jaune replied. "Getting rid of scum like him is my life's purpose."
"Well—"
They heard a creak as a door at the other end of the room opened.
"Orion?"
It was a man's voice who asked, and when Jaune turned he saw in the dim shadow a thin, humanoid figure.
"All is well, Victor," Orion said. "Jaune and I are talking. You may wait outside for now… this is a private conversation."
"Uh, alright then. I'll be here if you need me."
The figure then stepped back further into the dark and pulled the door shut behind him. It grated on rusted hinges before sealing shut.
Jaune looked back to Orion, one eyebrow raised.
"That was Victor," the deathclaw replied. "He's a friend."
"Huh." A deathclaw with human friends. "I've made a few friends too… they were the ones you kidnapped me from."
"Sorry. But I needed to have a private conversation. Obviously, I couldn't approach you all at once. You would have opened fire before I could talk."
"Yeah, yeah we would have."
Orion tilted his head. "Do they know? About Earth, that is."
"No." Jaune sighed and averted his gaze. Looking around, he saw an overturned cabinet a few feet away. He walked by and sat down on it. Now a bit more comfortable, he continued: "I've been lying to them, told them I'm from Vacuo."
"What a coincidence," Orion said. "For I have done the same."
"Vacuo's close enough to the wasteland, anyway," Jaune said, chuckling dryly. "Only ever heard the place described as a chaotic shithole."
"Yes," Orion said. "I told them I was from a faraway wasteland, and they supposed that I am from Vacuo. I've upkept the lie ever since. I haven't talked much of my past. They have rumors about where I'm from, but I never tell." Orion snorted, then shrugged. "It's not something I can tell them, is it?"
"Yeah, I've done the same," Jaune said. "But it's hard, isn't it? These people you're close to… having to lie to them. I don't like it."
"Hm. It is hard. I don't like it either." Orion shook his head. "But they wouldn't well be able to understand a creature from a different world, formed from radiation and genetic manipulation, then getting transported here…" Orion refocused his beady, black eyes back Jaune. "You've taken my existence rather well, actually. I thought you would have a harder time accepting an intelligent deathclaw."
Jaune only shrugged. "I teamed up with a smart super-mutant once. And I know that deathclaws are already damn smart. Pfft, I've seen so much shit back in the wasteland… radiation and FEV made everything a weird mess." After a second more, he chuckled. "Then again, Remnant's got a ton of crazy stuff, too. I mean come on, semblances and auras? Stuff is nuts."
"It is indeed," Orion replied. "I never thought a universe like would exist beyond fantasy. I never thought I'd be able to partake in it."
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jaune was smiling now. "All of the life is beautiful. The forests, trees, flowers and… happy people. Lot of weird crap, but it's mostly better."
"It is beautiful," Orion said. "I've built a better life for myself here than I ever could have had back on Earth." He growled thoughtfully again. "But what was your life back on Earth? I've told you of myself."
"Yeah, yeah you have. Only fair I do the same."
So Jaune spent the next few minutes telling Orion the tale of the Lone Wanderer. He grew up in a vault, then departed to find his father. He made friends along the way and hardened his fighting skills. When he finally found his dad again, the man was murdered by Bishop Beauvais. But he finished his father's work and brought water to the wasteland, then worked in a grand coalition to destroy the Enclave.
Orion growled happily at that.
Then he explained how he'd been without direction for a while, and he'd taken the moniker 'Lone Wanderer'. That is, until he was recruited once more to hunt down Bishop. He managed to kill the bastard, but the alien machine transported him to Remnant. When he arrived, he took the name Jaune Arc, and he's since reinvented himself. Friends, therapy, medication. It's taken a lot of work, but it finally feels like I'm living the life I've always wanted.
"Hm. And I feel the same," Orion said. "I've worked hard to build up what I have here. But you've only been here for six months?"
Jaune nodded, thinking nothing of the detail. "Yeah, around that."
"I've been here eighteen years," said Orion.
Jaune's jaw dropped; his eyes widened.
He shook his head. "Eighteen? How the hell?"
"I suppose that the alien machine didn't just send us to different places in this world," Orion said, "but to different times as well."
"Eighteen?" Jaunes stressed the world, amazed that Orion had been alive on Remnant for longer than he'd been alive in general. "What have you been doing this whole time?"
"Hm." Orion growled and furrowed his brow, the first time Jaune had ever seen a deathclaw appear pensive. "Well… I started wandering these forests. I was very happy, to be free and in a place that only existed in fiction back on Earth."
"Huh, I felt the exact same way."
Orion nodded. "But then as I spent more time here, I became increasingly unhappy. I enjoyed hunting animals, and the strange creatures I would later know as 'Grimm' gave good fights. I was in the heyday of my youth, barely into the teen years. I loved it all… until the loneliness set in."
Jaune swallowed uncomfortably.
"I had been crushingly alone in the Enclave's possession. I had become the last of my kind, and long days in that cage left the rot of solitude inside of me. Shortly, as wonderful as the forest and freedom was, it was not enough."
Jaune squeezed his hands together.
"I would go to sleep at night without having said a word all day, all week, all month, when I would have spent all day talking with friends and family years ago. I would pass time aimlessly, hunting and surviving… but surviving for what? No purpose."
Jaune grit his teeth.
"Alone, I wandered. This beginning period must have been months, before I found a city. This city, Mountain Glenn.
"But when I came here, I looked afar at a city which was vibrant, bustling with life. I saw the bullheads rising in the air, saw people going in an out of the main gate. I looked in awe at this human place, awe and curiosity."
Orion stopped speaking for a moment, gathering his thoughts. In that time, Jaune let out a shaky sigh, suddenly feeling a particular kind of tiredness under his skin.
"So I tried to see it. I staked out the city, and one night I came close. I tore through a sewer grate and snuck in under the ground. It took me a while to get my bearings, but soon I found spots from which I could look up at the surface through storm drains.
"And… I became envious."
Orion growled thoughtfully and blinked a few times, looking beyond Jaune, into the past.
"I remember how jealous I became, so quickly. I saw families and couples and people walking together. I saw people laughing, having fun… being together. I wondered where it was, what place in the wasteland could possibly have this, and I wondered if somewhere out there would be a place like this for me, for deathclaws."
Orion sighed.
"But I thought back on the impossibility of it. I knew that I was the last of my kind. I'd seen other deathclaws captured by the Enclave, ones not modified to be smart like me. They were animals, and they scared me when they growled and glared.
"So I looked at the humans enjoying themselves, and I seethed."
Orion sighed again and sat back on his haunches. Jaune knew the position, having seen deathclaws relax that way, when they sensed no prey or enemy. It was bizarre to sit across from one now like this, so casually.
But he listened intently, captured by the story of a fellow survivor of that terrible place, Earth. A story that resonated with him deeply.
"I fell asleep that night in the sewers," Orion eventually continued. "But I awoke to the sound of chaos. Screaming, roaring, crashing… I got up and looked through a drain and saw.
"Grimm were everywhere. I saw a beowolf rip someone in half, saw canis tear someone to pieces. Gunfire, screaming, violence… I watched it through the sewer grate, wide-eyed. I'd never comprehended such carnage. The very ground itself shuddered.
"Then I saw a mother and a child running down the street, chased by an ursa…"
Orion closed his eyes. For a moment. Jaune barely dared to breathe, for fear that the slightest noise might taint the solemn silence such a story deserved.
"I remembered then," Orion continued, "how I'd spent long nights alone in my cage, wishing that some hero had come out and saved me and my mother, when we were hunted by the Enclave. I remembered that, and I realized that I could do that for someone else.
"I exploded up through the street, roared and charged. The mother and her son were horrified—but I leapt straight over them, onto the ursa. A quick swipe of my claws, and I tore its throat open. Then I picked up those two and ran back into the sewer.
"I ran far through the tunnels, and they were kicking and screaming. The looks on their faces when I dropped them off in the room where I'd been sleeping, and when I told them to stay still… pure terror, confusion. But I made them promise me to stay, for they'd be safe there.
"Then I went back out into the city, and I… well, I 'abducted' more people, saving them from rampaging Grimm." Orion turned and brandished a gnarled scar on his leg. "I was not left unharmed… an alpha beowolf was faster than I predicted. But I persevered, and...
"Well, perhaps it's best for you to see firsthand what I managed to accomplish," Orion finished. "Just know, that that night I set the foundation for forming the family I've lived with ever since, the family that I've devoted myself to protecting. Have you made a new family here, Jaune?"
He didn't hesitate to answer: "Yes."
"And do you want to protect them; would you do anything to keep them safe?"
"Of course."
"Hm." Orion dipped his head, thinking. Then he nodded. "Well there is another reason I wanted to talk to you, other than to reminisce. I like speaking with you, and I like finally having someone to talk to about Earth… but I also wish to negotiate with you."
Jaune tilted his head, somewhat interested, somewhat suspicious. "What do you have in mind?"
"Mountain Glenn has always had search parties and scavengers, some criminals come here. But recently, a group of faunus wearing Grimm masks have made a base here, and I do not like it. They are a threat, and I want them gone."
Jaune smiled a wicked smile. "Well then it looks like we have something else in common. Those faunus are a group called the White Fang, terrorists who want to try and use violence to promote faunus rights—or faunus supremacy." Jaune leaned forward. "My team and I came here to find them, and if we could, to destroy them."
"Hm. Then fate really does mean for us to be allies." Orion leaned forward. "They shot one of my friends, inured her. She's still recovering. I want to kill them all."
"Well I think I can help with that," Jaune said, eyes narrowing.
The two hunters, at that moment, reached a deeper understanding of one another.
"I came out here to kill White Fang," Jaune said. "Those assholes put a lot of people in danger, including my own friends. I know the idiots I call family will always chase after them, being heroes. So I need to help kill them, too. That's all a part of keeping them safe." He nodded in solidarity to Orion. "So I can respect what you want. How big is this base, can you take me to it?"
"Yes," Orion said. "But first, I want you to see something else, to understand better what is at stake, and…" Orion shifted on his feet, almost nervously. "I'd like to show something off… although it's also important for you to know the resources we can employ."
"Alright, not a problem," Jaune said. "But we should take them out soon—we don't know what they're doing or what their schedule is like."
"They've taken up at the old train station," Orion said. "They've been working there for weeks, some major project. I don't like it. They have lots of cargo, so we think they may be planning on shipping out material into Vale."
"Into Vale?"
"The rail-line they've been preparing leads back to Vale," Orion said. "They've been preparing a link between here and the city."
"Fuck." Jaune snarled. "I don't know what they're doing but that can't be good."
"No, not at all." Orion snarled. "From what you say, I like them even less now. People who cause innocents pain should die."
"They should."
"Hm. Well, we can talk more, reminisce of Earth later," Orion said. "For now, go out and follow Victor. He will take you to the right place." He pointed at the back of the room, to the door where the human had interrupted them. "That is the quickest route to what I want to show… but it's too small for me." Orion rolled his shoulders and stood up straighter, emphasizing that he was both far too wide to and far too tall for human passages. "So follow Victor. He's a trusted companion." Orion paused for a moment, before adding, "And he's also the child I saved all those years ago, the one running with his mother."
"Really?" Even though he'd only seen him for a moment, Jaune could tell Victor was an adult. It only served to reinforce the fact that Orion had been here for eighteen years… eighteen.
What else had come here from Earth, and for how long? Who else?
Thinking about that made a weight form in his stomach, an uncomfortable, tight stone that felt sharp and dull at the same time. He pushed it out of his mind.
Orion turned away and slunk back to the large tunnel he'd dragged in Jaune from. "We'll show you around, then show you where these 'White Fang' are. Then, we can find your friends and prepare our strike."
"Sounds good to me."
"Hm. But we'll need to explain how we know each other," Orion said. "If you're only seventeen, and I've been with these people for eighteen years, then it doesn't make sense to say that we know each other."
"Damn, you're right." Jaune scowled. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking for a moment. "Maybe we could say you knew my family?"
"Hm. Or the one who trained you?" Orion asked. "I told Victor that I recognized you when I saw you… we can say that I knew you as a baby, and that the scar is actually a birthmark. Yes, that's how I knew you."
"Okay, that can work out," Jaune said, nodding along with the lie.
These two were quite proficient by now on making up lies about who they used to be.
"My dad was a huntsman back in Vacuo who you worked with, and you recognized me by my scar while I was fighting, then asked me for help after we caught up."
"Hm. That sounds feasible."
"Yeah, it does. Sounds like we're about ready to rock and roll."
"Hm, I think we are. I'll see you soon Jaune, just follow Victor for now."
Without another word, Orion nodded and turned away, heading once more into the darkness of Mountain Glenn's old sewers. That left Jaune alone, sitting there in an abandoned maintenance room.
He suddenly realized a strong sense of nostalgia. All the time spent wallowing in the sewers, basements and subways under DC come back to him; here he was, creeping around under a ruined city with deathclaws and killers abound.
Nostalgia… along with a fresh wave of utter bewilderment. Now that Orion was out of sight, he suddenly found himself questioning whether or not any of that had really just happened.
Jesus, I never thought I'd have a conversation with a deathclaw… never thought I'd relate to one so much. That conversation wound up going easier than most of the ones I've had with actual people here on Remnant… then again, I haven't been able to connect like that with anyone on this whole planet.
But there's no more time to waste. I need to go kill some people.
As he stood, he realized his hands were jittery, and competing questions and thoughts still fought to boil up inside him now that he was alone.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
Some controlled breathing calmed his nerves a bit, then he reached in his bag pocket and pulled out the bottle of anxiety pills he'd been prescribed. He popped one in his mouth, swallowed and closed his eyes. He kept breathing, and he was able to reach a bare facsimile of peace as his hands stopped shaking and his mind stilled.
Even thought the whole world seemed crazy, he could at least have control over himself.
"So…"
"Yes?"
The flashlight cut through the darkness ahead of them, revealing a narrow corridor with busted pipes that all dripped foul-smelling water. Their feet made both squelching and crackling sounds as they treaded over moist moss, mold, crushed glass, rusted fragments of pipe and chips of cement, all detritus of the decaying passage.
All in all, it was very familiar to Jaune. Things got more nostalgic by the moment.
Victor led him, expertly twisting through what seemed to be a maze, passing by old doors and endless diverging paths. With a set of keys, he brought them both through several doors, then swiftly locked behind them.
Jaune kept one hand on Crocea Mors, keenly focused and alert.
He wasn't worried about Orion or Victor, however. That would be absurd, considering Orion could have easily killed him, and betrayal made no sense after their conversation. No, he peered into the darkness, wary of Grimm and White Fang. More than look, however, he listened. Every drip and crack in the distance could be an enemy. He listened.
"Well," Victor said, "you come from Vacuo like Orion?"
The fact that Victor was trying to make conversation didn't make it any easier.
"Yes."
"Yeah, he told us that he recognized you from a fight he had back there."
"He did."
"Well, did you guys know each other?"
"No."
Jaune clenched his jaw. His replies were frustrated and curt as he focused more on listening for threats.
"You don't have to be so on edge," Victor said with a nervous chuckle. "Orion keeps these parts of the underground nice and clear for us. Don't have to worry about Grimm or anybody else. Most of these other ways are dead ends anyway."
"Right."
Deathclaws do certainly do a good job of keeping their territory theirs.
Victor's reassurance did have an effect on him. It probably would be fine to talk like this in Orion's territory. "We didn't know each other back then, but he saw me fight. Now we're fighting together, because we both want to kill off those faunus."
"Ah yeah," Victor said. "But we don't have a problem with them just 'cus they're faunus or anything… they're just armed and near us, and dangerous."
"Same."
"Yeah…" Victor trailed off, and he didn't try to continue. He only led Jaune further through the underground for another few minutes, before simply saying: "We're here." He stopped beside a large, sealed door. He placed one hand on the door's latch and started pushing. The old rusted metal grated as the heavy latch stubbornly resisted.
"Let me help," Jaune said. He stepped in and gripped the latch, then wrenched it back easily. "Aura's strong stuff," he said when Victor looked at him.
Victor laughed. "Yeah I know, we have a few hunters around."
"Yeah?"
"Just look at this," Victor said, then pushed the door through.
"Ah crap!"
The first thing Jaune saw on the other side of the doorway were two people close to his own age. His grip on Crocea Mors tightened as he examined them. One was a faunus, as he could tell from the ears on top her head and the bushy tail that peeked from behind her. White Fang? However, the other one was a young man seemingly without animal features. And neither of them wore those Grimm masks. Neither were armed, either.
They stood in a hallway, which led down a bit further before turning, the end out of sight to him. Dim lights illuminated this place, a fresh departure from the pitch black tunnels they'd been navigating prior.
Another second and Jaune noticed that they were holding hands.
"What are you…?" Victor seemed confused for a second, before immediately scowling, dark eyes bearing into them. "You horny little—"
"No!" The guy shook his head, bringing up his hands before him as if that could somehow protect him from Victor's ire. "I swear, it's not like that again!"
"Yeah, we were just…" The girl's ears dog ears flattened against her head and she failed to come up with an appropriate excuse.
"What?" Victor put his hands on his hips. He didn't exactly make the most imposing figure, being on the shorter and scrawnier side of the spectrum, and he was only a few years older, perhaps early twenties. But some sense of command cowed the couple nonetheless. "Orion and the council gave specific instructions that no one gets to leave until its safe! Or do you want to get hurt like Vanessa was?"
The two hung their heads, silent and in shame.
Victor sighed, exasperated, then turned to Jaune. "Ever since those faunus showed up, the council and Orion determined it was safest if no one went out. But these two idiots have kept sneaking out to get frisky. Just a few days ago, Orion caught them and dragged them back." His frown deepened and he turned back to the two. "Seriously, we have rules for a reason!"
"Uh…"
"We weren't going to go out," the girl feebly said. "We were just gonna hang out back here for a while, honest!" Her eyes were thoroughly focused on the floor, before she managed to gain the courage to look up and try to address Victor face-to-face. "Please…"
Her voice trailed off as she finally noticed Jaune. In a moment, her eyes widened, her ears perked up and her tail stiffened.
"You!" She stepped back and pointed at Jaune. "You!" She pointed, hands shaking nervously. "Who are you." Her eyes looked to Victor. "Who is he?"
Victor shook his head. "We're not used to getting new people around here," he told Jaune. As he spoke again, he turned behind him to close of the door. "This is Jaune," he said over his shoulder. "He's from the Vacuo wastes like Orion, and Orion was actually friends of his family."
"What?" Her eyes widened even more. Now there was shock, but also something else.
"Wait, you're from the same place as Orion?" said her boyfriend.
"No way," the girl said. She now looked at him curiously, almost wondrously, as if she'd caught sight of some animal she'd only ever seen in picture books, heard in bedtimes stories.
Then she smiled.
"Oh my goodness that's awesome!" She squealed and excitedly hopped in place. "Oh my gosh tell me all about it! What was the wasteland like? Is it really that terrible? How'd you get that scar? Is that a sword? Are you a huntsman? What was the wasteland like?" Her words came out in a neurotic deluge that reminded Jaune of Nora.
And the stranger's quick talk—questions about himself and his past, no less—had him on edge. He shuffled back, wordlessly.
"Hey, hey," Victor said, interposing himself between Jaune and the girl after seeing the scowl on his face. "Give Jaune some space."
"That your name?" The boy asked. "Jaune?"
"I'm Cass!" the girl said.
"And I'm Kahn," said her companion.
"How ya doin Jaune? What's the wasteland like?"
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
Jaune forced back some of his initial reluctance, then propped up a half-hearted smile on his face.
"Good to meet you," he said.
"What was your homeland like? How do you know Orion?"
"Uh, the wasteland was horrible and Orion knew my family," he said, straddling truth and lies.
"Oh that's so cool!"
"Alright, alright," Victor interjected, "Jaune will have plenty of time to chat later, but for now he needs to meet with the council."
"Ah cool, for what?" Kahn asked.
"He's going to help us take care of the attackers in the old train station," Victor said.
Cass's smiled dropped immediately; both she and Kahn immediately sobered from the revelation. Their excitement and curiosity dashed, each stepped back.
"Well damn," Kahn said quietly. "Thanks for that."
"Everybody's really scared about it," Cass said. "Thank you."
"Yeah, so we better all get going," Victor said, cutting through the freshly solemn mood. "And you two need to get back home. Things aren't going to be very safe tonight."
Now they both mumbled in agreement, then backed away, further down the hall and around a corner, out of view.
"We don't get a lot of new people here," Victor said again. "Like, almost never."
"I could tell."
"And everyone's really on edge about those faunus who've taken up in the train station. Everyone's paranoid they might find us."
"Everyone," Jaune repeated. "You use that word. How many people is 'everyone'?"
"I'll show you."
Victor walked down the hall, and Jaune followed. Up ahead, he saw more light shine in from around the corner, where stronger light-sources lay.
"Welcome to Mountain Glenn," Victor said, stepping aside and sweeping out his hand.
"Thank you," the Commander said. "It is frustrating that Cinder has limited information about her plans, but secrecy is understandable. I hope that they don't treat you too poorly in prison."
"Meh," Roman just shrugged. "I've taken beatings by cops before, no big deal."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neo fidget in her seat beside him. They sat across a table from the Commander and his head lackey, whom Roman had only ever called 'Art'. Just being stuck in a little, dark room with these guys made him feel uneasy, and for the first time since he'd started working with them, the presence of the White Fang actually gave him a small measure of comfort. The big guy with the chainsaw leaned silently against the wall, having listened while Roman filled them in last-minute about his intention to be caught.
That was a particular detail that always made Neo frown. She hadn't spoken to him (rather, signed to him) for days after he'd agreed to that plan. Sure, Cinder had forced it on him, but Neo knew better than to take out her frustration on the crazy boss lady, and she needed to take it out on somebody. Not that she could stay mad at him for long; she never could.
"Well," the Commander said, deep and muffled through the tight gas mask, "unless you have something else to say, I would like to get back checking on those bombs."
Heh, control freak. Roman knew the type, the kind who liked to micromanage, who didn't like to leave important stuff to others. He didn't know how much the Commander really knew about bombs, but whatever, if he blew himself up, Roman would actually mark that down as a win.
"Yeah, that was about it," Roman said with a nod. "You can skidaddle on out of here."
"Very well. You can find me on the train if you'd like to talk further. I'll make sure it's all ready for tomorrow."
"Sure thing," Roman replied. He let the Commander and Art leave without another word, then sighed and shook his head once the door shut behind them.
"Those men irritate me," the White Fang lieutenant said. Roman had never bothered to learn his name, and the guy had never bothered to tell him. "They hover over us, order us, then look past us like we're nothing."
"They think you're an animal and I'm street trash," Roman replied. Sure, he casually used the slur animal with some of these faunus, but so what? He didn't actually hate them so much, just didn't care for them. Art though? Some of the stuff he'd said…
"What do you know about them?" the lieutenant asked.
That only made the thief chuckle. "Fishing for info, eh?"
He received no reply.
"Ah well," Roman continued, "you're asking the wrong guy. All of the boss-lady's 'allies' are kept apart from each other, which she obviously does on purpose." Roman shrugged and pulled out a cigar. "I hardly know anything about the guy… but if you'd be willing to do some brainstorming, I'm open."
As Roman pulled out a cigar slicer from his pocket and cut one end of the cigar, he still received no reply from the lieutenant.
Neo crossed her arms and waited, quiet and patient.
In the silence, the sound of Roman lighting a match was the only thing to be heard.
But then, just as he brought the cigar to his lips, the lieutenant sat down across from him.
"I think it's in both of our best interests to share information on that man and his doings," said the lieutenant.
Roman pulled in a smoke, then blew out a dense cloud, smiling as he did. "I could not agree more, my friend.
"What a funny coalition this is, everybody trusting everybody else not so far as they can throw them, nobody's knowing anything about each other." Roman just shrugged.
"Hmph, that woman promises us all our own goals," the lieutenant said. "We get a chance to strike at Atlas and the humans, you get your money and Cinder herself gets to reach whatever revenge it is she seeks." The man leaned over. "But I don't know what the Commander and the Black Masks want."
"Is that what they're called?" Roman asked.
"One of many names," the lieutenant replied. "They've chosen no name for themselves. Our spies in Atlas and SDC have noted that over the last year, a new group rose to prominence in the field of non-governmental black-ops."
"Yeah? Can't say I'm real close to that stuff, being a thief and all." Roman bit the cigar, though his mind was too distracted appreciate the flavor. "I know a guy who might be able to look into that sort of stuff, but it's dangerous to go poking around in that world."
"Very," the lieutenant said. "I can tell you a bit more, but I'd appreciate some of your own information, as well."
That made Roman chuckle. He breathed in again, blew out another puff of smoke and spoke: "Not a problem, friendo.
"I've worked with that asshat Art more than I've liked, pretty closely actually. That's nice 'cause he's the Commander's right-hand man, and I bet you all haven't worked too closely with any of these types?"
The lieutenant shook his head.
"Figured. These guys are human supremacists."
At that, the lieutenant stiffened. Through his mask, his gaze bore down on Roman. "Are you sure?"
"Pretty sure," he said. "I mean, I've never had the highest opinion of you faunus types—all I ever knew were the dumbass gangsters from a few blocks over when I grew up. But that doesn't mean I really hate you guys, just I'm not all that politically correct."
Roman sighed and shook his head.
"But some of the shit I've heard Art say? Makes me a bit uncomfortable."
"Like what?"
"Like calling you filth, being upset that he has to be anywhere near you, only using a private bathroom on his ship because no faunus have used that. Once he even mentioned that it'd be fun to hunt you down for sport, and I've heard him say a few times that the world would be a better place without 'those things'."
The lieutenant's hands tightened into trembling fists.
"I overheard a call from the Commander he had, too. The guy said that he hated working with 'the filth' too but they had to put up with it. He mentioned that everybody else is complaining, too. That makes me feel like everybody in their organization is a supremacist."
The lieutenant seethed.
"So whatever Cindy's offering them must be pretty nice, 'cause apparently just having to be around you furries makes them want to hurl their lunches."
When he finished, Roman brought his cigar to his lips once more, puffed and blew.
The lieutenant took a few deep breaths, calming down. "I'll inform Adam of this immediately," he said. "That makes me hate collaborating with these humans even more."
Damn, how you can talk through all the hypocrisy beats me.
Roman just shrugged and said, "That also ties into some of my thoughts on where they're from, too."
The Roman stopped talking, even as the lieutenant waited expectantly.
"Oh come on," Roman said with a smile. "This story time can't be one-sided. What else do you know about them?"
"They've already gotten a vicious reputation," the lieutenant said. "Rumor has it they were involved in the massacres across the Edrian Plateu."
"That the place between Mistral and Atlas? Thought it got wiped by Grimm invasion."
The lieutenant shook his head. "Systematic massacres, thought to make way for interests like the SDC and Mistral Mining Co., or maybe the smugglers and unlicensed miners, to take over the land for cheap. We know, because one of our cells was posted up there and barely escaped in time.
"Men, women, children, entire villages wiped out one after another. Many faunus, but many humans as well. Hundreds killed. Our men saw the Black Masks there."
Roman scowled.
"Rumor has it they were involved in some assassinations and attacks across Remnant, activity increasing over the course of a year. They must have been expanding their operations, but then…"
The lieutenant just shook his head.
"Then what?"
"Then it stopped," he continued. "From what I hear, now they're barely active at all; it seemed a small black ops groups was growing bigger, but they've gone under the radar since then. I don't think I can blame them—a source said that they made Atlas's red list."
Roman's eyes widened. "The red list? How high up?"
"No idea," the lieutenant replied. "But they're probably close to as high as we are. We're not sure precisely what they did to get on that, but…"
"They've got a bullhorn," Roman said. "Hardware like that, I don't think you'd be able to buy. That's something you'd have to take."
"Indeed."
"But why bother going that far? A black ops group could make a lot of cash without going as far as getting on the red list for attacks and thefts like that."
Again, the lieutenant only shrugged. "They must have a plan with that firepower. And there's no telling how long Cinder has worked with them, what requirements she's imposed on them."
"Good point…" Roman shook his head. "They must be after something serious if they're willing to risk the red list. Although… that sort of works with my other theory."
"What theory?"
"My theory about where the Commander's from," Roman said. "From what I can tell, he's been leading these guys since they were founded, just him and Art; that's what Art told me himself." Roman contemplated for a moment, chewing on the slow-burning cigar before speaking again. "They both said that they're from Vacuo. And whenever someone says that, there's a decent chance they're bullshitting."
"Why?"
"Well first, it's pretty hard to get out of Vacuo. If you come to any standing there, then it's probably through the gangs, and you can't leave those. Most people who get out scrape together just enough to get a one-way ticket, but it's hard as hell for poor people from Vacuo to get approval to enter one of the other kingdoms legally, unless they're a hunter.
"There's no military over there, so how the hell did the Commander and Art get all these skills? So are they rogue huntsmen? I don't think so. They strike me way more as being military types than any hunters I've met.
"But most of all, Vacuo is a perfect cover for anybody who wants to start a new life. Just say you're from Vacuo. No birth certificates over there, no records, no id's, no nothing. It's easy to say any past contacts got killed by gangs, warlords or Grimm, so nobody to ask for proof. It's the perfect background story. Honestly, most of the people you'll meet who say they're from Vacuo, aren't actually from Vacuo."
The lieutenant crossed his arms, and Roma gave him a moment to think. During that time, he enjoyed a puff of cigar, before moving on to his final point.
"I heard the Commander's real voice once, too. When I overheard him talking to Art, it was through a scroll. I was just outside the room and the door was cracked open." He shrugged. "The guy has a weird accent. I know people who are actually from Vacuo, and they don't sound like that. His accent is almost like… this kind of soft drawl or something, I can't place it. Sounds sorta like this girl I met who was from the southern Vale backlands, but even that wasn't too similar."
"So it really is a mystery," the lieutenant said.
"Not completely," Roman said. "I think I've got a pretty good theory worked out."
"Which is?
"Where these guys are from, I think they have a history with Atlas. The Commander I think was likely a member of the Atlas Foreign Legion; those guys take people in from anywhere, even ones with shoddy background checks and funny accents." He leaned in. "And if they are human supremacists, then they may have been purged when Ironwood swooped in, got his second council seat a few years back."
"That coward general hardly cares for racism in Atlas," the lieutenant said. "His purge was purely targeting his political enemies."
"Even if that's the case, it was mostly against the more extreme elements in the military," Roman said, quickly hand-waving the lieutenant's complaint. "Hardcore human supremacists got fired, forced to resign or even imprisoned depending on how much they were implicated in that whole mess in the Western Ranges.
"If what you say about the Edrian Plateu is true, then it sounds pretty similar to that shitshow that happened in the Western Ranges a decade ago. Oh boy, when Ironwood dug that up, it was hell to pay.
"And so then you've got a bunch of highly-trained soldiers, all of whom are super racist, all of whom have a bone to pick with the current higher-ups in Atlas, some of whom might even be on the red list already after the purge."
The lieutenant nodded along, finally putting together all the pieces. "In that case, they'd naturally band together, be willing to work against Atlas and faunus and even be more willing to take risks with the red list."
"Exactly."
The two were quiet then, as the lieutenant reflected on the conversation, making sure his conclusion was correct. Roman simply puffed on his cigar.
"Well, I daresay this conversation has been productive," the lieutenant eventually said. "I've told everything I can, have you?"
"Yup, I'm clear out of info. Still don't know what they're after, but this is a start."
"Cinder may be lining us up for a strike against Ironwood and Atlas in the future," the Lieutenant said. "Which both us and these racists would like." He nodded and hummed, the theory making sense.
"Damn, that could be it." Roman bit down on the cigar, hard.
"Well, if that's all, then I'll take my leave," the lieutenant said. "I'll send this information back home. It's good to know that we're dealing with supremacists here."
"I'm just here to help," Roman told the faunus supremacist, grinning as he did.
Without another word, the lieutenant rose and departed, leaving Neo and Roman alone once more.
As the door clicked shut behind, Roman's demeanor immediately changed. The smug smile and lax posture fell apart as he frowned deeply and hunched over. He went from lackadaisical to troubled. Neo eyed him anxiously, thinking over their unfortunate situation herself.
Neo caught Roman's attention with a snap, and when his eyes were on her, she began signing. Her fingers moved, and he tracked them with practiced ease.
When she finished, Roman said, "Yeah, I don't like it either. And… working with a ton of people on the red list will get our names on it eventually, too."
Neo signed more.
"Yes, the red list matters, Neo. It's dangerous, too damn dangerous. That makes us priorities for execution."
Neo shrugged.
"Hey, there's a difference between dodging cops and jail, and dodging Atlas Special Forces and the firing squad."
Roman closed his eyes for a moment, then let out a sigh.
"Yeah, human supremacists, faunus supremacists, all the same, all whack jobs." He growled and rammed his cigar into the table. He twisted the smoldering butt against the wood, grinding the ash to dust and putting out the embers. "How did we end up here?"
Neo signed.
"Well yeah, all the crime. But I mean… how here. Plenty of people commit plenty of crimes but don't get swooped up by nutjobs with agendas and wanted posters. I mean, I always wanted a wanted poster, but not like these guys…"
Again, Neo only shrugged.
"It's because we did too much, that's it," Roman said with a sigh. He let his head fall into one hand. "You know, back on the streets when we first met, the only thing I wanted was to be somebody.
"Yeah… cast out by my own family, my own neighborhood… I was nobody!" Roman grit his teeth. "But then I met you, and now we're really a pair of somebodies, huh? Stupid. All the attention we got, all the theatrics and here we got. This is where the damn spotlight got me. Got you. Got us."
Neo frowned and signed.
"Well yeah, it's what I wanted, but I didn't think it through enough. I didn't want this. I mean, we're about to blow a hole into Vale for god's sake." He pulled the hat off his head and slapped it down on the table beside his discarded cigar. "I mean, at least we're doing it in the prissy up-section of town, but still… I mean none of those people ever crossed us. You know I never feel bad about putting down any types who go wrong by us, but…"
He shook his head.
"But gods, I set out to be 'Vale's Greatest Thief' not 'Vale's Worst Mass Murderer'."
Neo signed again.
"Well yeah it is us or them. I'm not saying I'm about to pull some heroics and back out—Cinder, the Commander and the White Fang will have our heads on stakes. But the only reason that's the case is 'cause I got us in this mess."
Neo scoffed and signed.
"Yeah we always worked as a team, but you have to admit that I led the scores, planned stuff out. I got us here. I agreed to start stealing dust for the lady, and I got us under her boot like an idiot."
Neo's hands did not move.
Roman could only sigh. "We went full-circle, huh? Back on the streets we were just fighting to survive, everything was just about living to see another day: dodge the gangs, dodge the cops, don't get hooked on whatever drug everybody's getting hooked on this week, get enough to eat so you don't go to sleep too hungry." Roman sneered. "Years of working, all to get out of that, to have everything we needed, to be the type of people who don't have to worry about surviving, who get looked up to… but here we are again, the little fish in a whole new pond, still just trying not to die."
Neo scowled. She brought her hands together and cracked the knuckles there. After they were cracked, she continued flex and press on her digits as if she was continuing to try and crack them, fruitless fidgeting.
"And you know, remember what I told you happened to my sister?"
Neo's eyes met his, then she slowly nodded.
"Well the fuckers who killed her left her on the street, throat slashed, just 'cause she smiled and waved at their rivals. She was too young to understand any of their petty gang trash. And I remember seeing her there, bleeding out on the fucking sidewalk…
"And I wonder if what we're about to do is gonna leave some poor sap's sister lying dead on the street. I mean, the shrapnel from the breach, then the Grimm—"
Neo fiercely kicked him, driving the toe of her boot into his shin. When he cried out and looked at her, she signed her reply.
Roman grit his teeth and payed attention to her hands, but he quickly answered, "Yeah I'm not saying we shouldn't go through with this, don't worry I'm not having a change of heart here. Just chewing over something… but you're right. This isn't senseless, stupid killing, this is for us to survive."
And this is the only way I can keep you safe, at least for now.
"These barbarians would do all of this with or without us."
Neo smiled and nodded.
"But… still… it feels like we're getting in over our heads here. After all, the red list?"
Neo's smile dropped.
"It is bad, I assure you." Roman sighed and ran one hand through his hair. A few tense moments of silent passed again, before he said, "You've never gone through a lot of loss, have you Neo?"
Neo chuckled silently, then signed.
"No," Roman said. His serious tone cut down her joke. "I don't mean like how you dropped your toast on the floor this morning. I mean like losing someone you care about."
Neo's hands were motionless.
"Yeah, you never knew your family… but I knew my sister real well, and now I know you, too.
"I don't want to see you lying on a sidewalk in a pool of your own blood, Neo."
Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened a sliver as her jaw dropped in surprise. She stared at him for a few seconds, not knowing how to reply.
Then she scowled. She scowled and sneered and signed quickly, angrily.
"I'm not calling you weak," Roman said, voice even. "I'm just saying that we're starting to get into more serious trouble than we ever have before."
Neo kept scowling, but she signed nothing more.
"You know this is really what being somebody gets you, huh?" Roman chuckled bitterly. "The stakes get higher, and it never changes. Always a bigger fish." He shook his head and looked away, his jaw idly moved, chewing on a cigar that wasn't there. "But you know, I've been thinking that we should really retire once this is out."
Neo's fierce look softened, and she cocked her head, intrigued.
"If we don't get sucked into whatever attack on Atlas or whatever they're planning, I was thinking you and I should just high-tail it out of here to somewhere quiet, somewhere people won't recognize us. You know there's a bit more to life then just running, hiding, fighting."
Neo smiled and signed.
That made Roman laugh. "Well just because those are your favorite parts now doesn't mean we might not find new things later. Who knows, maybe we can settle down? Let's find some sleepy town in Mistral, where nobody knows who we are. By a lake, maybe, so I can try out fishing, get a boat. A pretty countryside. No gangs or rough-up cops. Maybe I'll find a nice farm girl out there, huh?"
Neo rolled her eyes.
"And you can find a nice farm boy?"
She stuck out her tongue.
That just made Roman laugh, and Neo quickly laughed with him—even if she made no sound, the grin was there, the carefree spirit was there.
"Hell, we can take up some neat hobbies, can't we?" Roman continued, invested in the fantasy now. "I've always thought learning some instrument could be fun. A piano, or a violin, something classy like that. What about you? Any secret passions you want to unlock?"
Neo squinted, thinking for a moment, before signing.
"Painting? Yeah that could be fun."
Neo shrugged, not feeling to strongly for her choice, just playing along.
"Though you sure you don't want any singing lessons?"
Her unamused glare widened the smile on Roman's face.
"Oh come on, don't be that way." Roman picked up his hat and put it back on his head. "Let's you and me keep this up, but once we get back to Vale, I'll do some research. I'm serious about this, you know. The moment we're able to slip out from under Cinder, we'll get the hell out of dodge." He rose from his chair and stepped away from the table, now standing tall, energized by the new plan. "Play those extremists against each other, make ourselves useful for now–then when Cinder loosens her grip, we disappear."
Neo smiled and nodded, then signed:
Wherever you go, I'll go too.