Week 1: The Merchant's Guild

There are some things in life that you simply have to admit. Some people may choose to avoid them, while others keep putting it on hold until it barely registers at the back of their mind. However, life will eventually drag these things out into the open. Without fail, I might add. Even a man like Roman Torchwick has a few things he'd rather not admit.

So, with that said...

This may come as a surprise to you, especially for all you kids out there, but the man named Roman was not flawless. Just like the rest of you schmucks, there are some instances in time where someone such as himself is capable of making a mistake or two.

I know! Who would've guessed, right?

Yet, while the master criminal was many things (smart, well dressed, physically capable, musically inclined, and a respectable chef to name a few), he would never have the hubris to consider himself flawless. Sure, he may never admit to them, but the classy crook knew that he could still, once in a while, make an error in judgement. To think otherwise would just be setting himself up for failure.

Or, in this case, disappointment.

After the little discussion with the talking feather-duster, he had expected someone to make an insightful comment about how ludicrous their business plan was. Sure, he hadn't necessarily expected Tinkerbell to be the one to point out the flaw—it would've been nice, of course—but the man had prayed that some force out there would've noticed a problem. A passing stranger? A representative from this merchant guild group? Hell, he would've even taken Red at this point, and that's saying something.

"Aww, but I wanted to leave through the window, like an action hero!" Unfortunately, a painfully high-pitched voice shattered his hopes and dreams. After all, that would've been sensible. And we can't have that, can we? That fact that he dared to hope otherwise was his third mistake in this stupid world.

"TO ETERNITY AN-"

"RECETTE!"

"Oh, Okaaaaaay..."

Of course, the peanut gallery was his second mistake. Well, not them specifically, but rather the fact that he had expected them to be anything more than a child and a floating kid's toy. You'd think that even a twelve-year-old would try to shape up when they're faced with the cold, harsh truth of being hopelessly in debt. After all, reality had an excellent way of shaping people up, from his experience.

But nope! Here she was, shouting like some bad comic book character while running full tilt to the front of the room. Unfortunately, the fairy managed to stop her before she actually dove out of the window, and Roman had to find something else to entertain himself. Or, you know, they could actually do whatever it was they had planned to do.

"Look, can we just get going already?" The fact that it fell to him to keep the ball rolling irritated the man to no end. Just how did he end up being the babysitter of these two, anyways?

Oh, right. The barely-legal contract-debt thing. For you folks keeping track back home, that was mistake number one.

"Okay Roman! Let's go!" With far too much energy for a kid her size, the twelve-year-old merchant hopped out the door.

Thankfully, the little trek to the Merchant's Guild was uneventful, as it merely consisted of the brat talking the fairy's ear off, explaining the intricacies behind her little superhero fantasy. For obvious reasons, Roman didn't pay much attention, casually walking behind the two as his eyes flickered from street to street.

Unfortunately, the little village of Pensee didn't have much to offer, and most of the people on the streets were merely idle townsfolk going on with their day to day lives.

Which was why the man was thankful when they finally reached their destination. Sure, he enjoyed morning walks as much as the next criminal lynchpin, but he usually got a few things done during them, too. Enjoy a new brand of cigar, find a new place to rob, blow off Cinder for a few hours... Yet, the only thing he managed to accomplish during this little waste of time was confirm that this town had nothing in the way of motorized vehicles.

Recette sprinted forward the moment they entered the guild hall, making her way up to the front desk with reckless abandon. Tear quickly followed, while Roman took his sweet time, eyes casually glancing around the room.

Decent stonework, tiled floors, amateur finish on the counter, and the counter itself had some cheap cloth over it. Not the worst place he'd seen, by any means. The person in charge, however...

Torchwick's eyes fell on the Guild Master, and immediately groaned internally. Bad facial hair, a dull look in his eyes, stupidly large eyebrows... If it wasn't for the brown hair and lack of gloves, he would've mistaken the waste of space in front of him for Junior. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, since he definitely could use some information right about now.

"Hello!" Recette was the first to speak, a wide smile plastered on her face as she approached the Guild Master. Okay, given the fact that he was returning the smile, Roman wasn't sure how he could've mistaken the man as Junior in the first place.

"Hm! A girl, a fairy, and a man in a suit! You three are..." There it is. The gradual process of thought observation turning into thought, the slow sounds of comprehension dawning at snail-breaking speeds. Those were the Junior traits he knew and tolerated. "Yes, you're Recette, that loan-shark, and her hired muscle!"

Huh. Can it be? Was there truly someone insightful in this stupid town? Maybe these guild things have some merit after all, weeding out the-

"While that is not... well, an INcorrect assessment, could I ask that you refrain from calling me a 'loan-shark'?" Tear was the first to speak up, interrupting the rogue's concentration with a look of irritation in her eyes.

"That's right, mister! The three of us are partners! Don't be mean!" The brat was the next to follow, and though the frown she wore barely qualified as one, it was still the most confrontational that Roman had ever seen her pull off.

"Hahaha! Forgive me, forgive me! Partners it is!"

So much for weeding out the riffraff. Given how quickly the man caved when the brat said that they're-...

"Wait. What? When did I agree to that?" This was the first time he had heard of anything like that, and honestly, the criminal had no idea how to respond. He was never comfortable having his name tied to anything, and the fact that he's suddenly a co-owner of a glorified lemonade stand—with who knows how much debt—only made it that much worse.

"What do you mean, Roman? You're friends with Tear, and you're both helping me with the shop, so of course we're all partners!"

And Recette heard none of Torchwick's thoughts as she smiled up at him. It wasn't the same mocking smile that Neo often gave whenever she stole his wallet for her ice cream runs, nor was it the one that Cinder was so fond of whenever she was plotting... whatever it was. It wasn't even the sarcastic smile that Perry always gave whenever the thief insulted him.

Nope. The one that the little bundle of stress gave him was a genuine, honest-to-god smile.

The only thing he could do was return the gesture. He was a man of class, after all, so the criminal merely smiled back, while the rest of his very being struggled against the urge to punt the kid out the nearest window.

"So!" The Guild Master interrupted his thoughts before things got... kick-y. "How're the preparations for running that shop coming along?"

"Quite well, thank you. In fact, we planned on opening today, so we stopped by in order to show our gratitude for your help."

"Ha! Very good! You two know what's what!" Another genuine smile. Not one that had any sort of malicious undertone, like the one that the boss of whatever the loan company, Something-or-other Financing, had. "If you have any problems, let me know. I'll be glad to help!"

"We appreciate your kindness, thank you."

Throughout that entire conversation, Roman stayed quiet. He was used to these little formal exchanges, after all. However, the man had absolutely no idea that genuine expressions of gratitude were this much more irritating. You'd think that they'd be more pleasant, but nope, Roman would much rather risk getting double-crossed than listen to any more of th-

"Um... We appreciate your kindness! Thank you very much!" Recette's insufferably chipper voice broke his train of thought. Again. Hopefully this won't be a hab- "C'mon, Roman! You too!"

His eye twitched, as he plastered on another forced smile. And with that smile came the thoughts of a punted twelve-year-old, one that he really had to struggle with to push out of his mind. Thankfully, it looked like no one noticed his internal dilemma, as the Guild Master immediately changed topics, stepping up behind the counter.

"So! You came straight here to pick up some merchandise, right? Well, up to the counter, then! Let's get you three sorted!"

Finally, it was time to talk business. Roman was about take a look at the inventory, before he noticed the stern look on the little fairy's face. On one hand, she only ever got like that when she had something important to say. On that other hand, she was facing Recette, so whether or not the information would be something beyond common sense was a toss up.

"This is our first time stocking up. Our funds are limited, so do not go completely overboard..."

He tuned out the rest of the lecture. Of course, it was something simple. Why would it be anything else?

Roman was taking his time, looking over something called a 'Magician's staff'. The tag on the carved chunk of wood priced it at 850 pix. Now, ignoring the fact that their currency was called pix, he still wasn't too sure whether the stick was overpriced, or whether the brat was underfunded. Recette's starting capital was a generous 1000 pix, which didn't leave the kid a lot of wriggle room.

As he twirled the oversized stick in one hand, the criminal couldn't help but wonder if this debt was even a legitimate debt in the first place. I mean, usually, when you want someone to pay you back, you either get them to pay you back, or you make them work for it. Technically, they were making the kid work for it... But weren't there smarter ways? Unsurprisingly, the number of times he'd consider collecting on a debt by teaching a person economics, before sending them off to be an entrepreneur was a resounding 0.

Then again, he's never had to collect from someone so headache-inducing as the little child here.

With that thought, Roman threw a glance at Recette, watching as she carefully appraised two identical Souvenir charms, each made out of the same cheap material. The look on her face was almost thoughtful, in a deer-in-headlights sort of way. If the deer in question was cluelessly staring itself down in a mirror. Or... something.

Okay, so the metaphor was lost, but can you blame him? Roman literally had no reason to be here. The fairy was taking her time with Recette, carefully explaining each individual item, all because she kept asking stupid questions. And while he was glad he didn't have to play encyclopedia for the brat, the idea of doing absolutely nothing wasn't that much better.

His eyes turned to the Guild Master for just a moment, who was mostly content with filling out a ledger of some kind. For what it was worth, Roman had actually contemplated the idea of introducing himself, in order to establish some sort of trade network. He'd need resources for his plans, and he could do a lot worse than using this place as a focal point.

Or... He could just swipe the ledger itself, and check out what other merchants were operating in the area. The Guild Master certainly seemed to be a by-the-books kind of worker, which were the easiest to exploit. All it took to distract the man was a quick question about other kinds of weapons, and the Guild Master volunteered himself that he check the back.

With that out of the way, Roman could finally check the... ledger...

... Why was this thing empty? Was it just a new book? No, that's not right. The pages are worn, and the cover was anything but pristine.

Now that he thought about it, there was no one else in the guild hall. It was literally just the guild master; He didn't even see anyone enter or leave the building on their way over here. Was... was this kid the only guild-sanctioned shop in this town? That can't be right.

He'll have to look into it later. For now, though, his headache was getting worse. Rather than try to question anything, the man decided to busy himself by browsing the items in stock. Scrap plate, wool hat, worn swords... All sorts of discount stuff that people probably didn't care about. There was decent looking knife in the pile, but that disappear for some strange, Roman-unrelated reason.

It didn't take too long before the aspiring merchant picked out her favourites among the junk pile, and after a final gift—a chunk of walnut bread judging by Recette's annoying voice—from the Guild Master, Thumbelina and the brat were ready to move on.

"... Capitalism, ho!"

"Well, Adam Smith would be proud of us, at any rate..."

Somehow, Roman doubted that.

Still, it was finally time to go, and with a new knife in his pocket, Torchwick calmly followed them out.