A/N: First time I have set pen to paper in a long while so to speak. I know it's bad, but this is just a ramble to try and get back to the actual story. Sorry for the lack of content. _
Interlude – A Coat
It was raining, the sort of slow drizzle that soaked into one's bones and made the warmth of the midsummer night seem both absent entirely, and utterly stifling. It sharpened the scents of the dingy city, washed away some of the dirt and grime that polluted it.
The young man with the silver hair appreciated the apt setting for the night as he crouched on a roof, watching carefully as a group of disheveled young Faunus were loaded into a shipping crate. Red eyes analyzed the area, flicking from cover to cover, from figure to figure. Speed was going to be key to this.
"…Bit of a wet night for a kid to be out." The boy spun, his lean frame unfolding like a striking viper as he lashed out at the nearby voice. Those red eyes widened as a hand seized his wrist, spinning him further, and another clamped down on his mouth. "Shhhh! Stay quiet. Hate to wake up the workers, neh?" The source of the voice was a man wearing a sturdy gray longcoat, a wide-brimmed hat pulled over his head hiding his features but for a lopsided, cheeky grin and the hints of a beard covering a strong jaw. "Right, kid. Taking my hand away, so… Don't try and shoot me, yeah?"
The gloved hand was removed from his mouth, though the hand gripping the boy's pistol-bearing hand remained in place. In a low, hissing voice, the child whispered, "What are you going to do now, then?"
Beneath the hat, dark brown eyes narrowed slightly as the man regarded the child. Thin, both by natural build as well as malnourishment. Unkempt silvery hair, plastered to a dirty face by the rain that cleared streaks of grime. By all accounts, the boy should be trying to find a place to shelter and eat. Instead, here he was, overlooking a human trafficking site, clearly plotting out an attack. And those red eyes glared at him from their sunken sockets, defiant and full of repressed rage and determination. The spark of something was there, the something that could shift mountains when fanned to a fire. "…Tell you to stay quiet, kid. There's some work needs doing tonight." His eyes narrowed further at the boy's sidearm, and he shook his head.
"That gun'll be too loud. Warn off our turkeys before the cullin'." He reached one hand into his coat's depths, finding the hilt and pulling out a small, curved blade. "…I'm guessin' you have the same impulses for these kind fellows as I do. You in or out on helpin' give them their wages?"
The boy's hand slowly relaxed, free arm reaching out for the hilt offered to him. He nodded once, slim fingers wrapping around the weapon and tightening. "…In." The man nodded, releasing the younger male's weapon arm. "…There are eleven of them. They have light rifles and pistols. No body armor."
He turned back to his observation, hands still ready to try and fight off the older man if need be.
He simply nodded, pulling out a boxy weapon grip as he knelt by the child, also looking over the lip of the roof. "Think you can hit those two lookouts on the far side?" The child nodded silently, red eyes narrowly looking over the area. "Then when I give you the signal, take them out."
The boy nodded absently, flipping his blade into a reversed grip and tucking his firearm into the holster he'd arranged across his lower back. His gaze flickered up, watching the man as he jumped over the next rooftop, coming to rest after a minute on the building over the crate. A quick motion, and what was unmistakably a handlight flashed green. 'Go!'
"…Good work tonight, kiddo." The boy looked up, blinking at the coat-wearing man. The hat was gone, settled on the side of the bed the man had claimed for himself. "Owe ya one. You didn't need to take that hit for me, but you did.'
His cheeks coloring, the boy looked down and muttered, "Needed you to pay for the rooms." He took another gulp of his water, giving a relieved sigh as the liquid hit his parched throat. The older man simply laughed, nodding.
"Still… I think you didn't even think there." He tossed his gloves into his luggage, then shifted about. "Catch."
The boy looked up in time to be hit in the face by a clean, close-fitted jacket. He fell aside, blinking as his hands unfolded the fabric to reveal the man's silvery gray longcoat. Red eyes blinked over at his temporary benefactor. "This is…"
"Silver is one of those metals people don't appreciate all the time. It's not as eye catching as gold, or as durable as steel. But the thing is… When it's darkest out, and nothing else will shine? Silver will catch the light and turn it into a beacon. Silver shines brightest in the dark, kid. And I think it got pretty dark tonight." The man's lips quirked up. "Iskander. And that coat is yours now."
The boy regarded the coat silently for several moments, then slid it on. It fit loosely, but he'd grow into it over the next few years. He looked up, a small, uncertain smile on his lips. "…Blanc."