Week 1: A Familiar Face

Goals.

They were a pretty vague thing, weren't they? I mean, sure, not all of them were, but there were plenty of people who weren't quite sure what they wanted in life. Of course, there were also the opposite, and Roman knew his fair share of people had their goals ironed out to a T, always viewing and reviewing the damned thing while never letting anyone else know about what their blasted goal actually was. But other people, people like Torchwick, weren't necessarily as directed with their life.

In fact, if someone were to look at the criminal and try to analyze him, all they'd see is your run-of-the-mill, everyday citizen, that was simply trying to make it out on his own. Sure, he might have a few run-ins with the law from time to time, and not every man would be willing to crush people beneath him if they stood in his way, and let's not get started on how much harder he works on his public image than the rest of those classless punks.

...Getting a bit off track.

Anyways, Roman was just like everyone else, pursuing that same nondescript goal of surviving life through whatever means necessary. Some people may disagree with his methods and tenacity, but some people were also unmotivated hacks, so that balanced itself out nicely. Either way, throughout his entire career, Roman Torchwick had made it clear that his goals were the only thing about him that was unclear, as he blindly pursued power, survival, and wealth.

But that changes now.

The crime boss had had enough; His new goal in life was to find out whoever put him in this situation, and to stab them until they are incapable of moving. Then, maybe lock them in a room with an angry Neo for good measure.

Why, you ask? Well, brat, why not take a look at it from his point of view? Not only was he sent into some useless world that defied everything remotely sensible, he had been forcibly mugged by some shady company that employed superhumans who gained their powers by eating magical rocks from some dungeon. Yeah, try figuring that out. Not only did they ruin his suit, but he had been forced to play babysitter while some floating kid's toy tried to play babysitter to some useless kid.

'But Roman,' you may ask, 'why are you snapping now?' Because, Billy, the forces that be decided that this disastrous life of his wasn't enough. That, even after all the damned things he had to deal with, from being dropped into this world to Cinder being goddamned Cinder, life still saw it necessary to throw him under the bus.

What other reason could there be for Red of all people to be here? Because life hates him, of course. So, the only appropriate recourse was to mug life in return.

How he planned to do that would be an exercise for later; for now, he had to deal with this little brat befo-

"Oh, hello! I'm sorry, but we're heading out for today!" Recette's cheerful voice immediately broke Roman out from his thoughts. Just how long had he been standing there, stewing over his mental rant? Well, either way, he was paying attention once more, and settled his attention back on Red.

It seemed that miss goody-two-shoes was just as confused by the sudden voice, as her gaze quickly shifted from Roman towards the second voice.

"U-uh... I'm sorry, what?"

"Yes, I'd to apologize on her behalf, but we won't be manning the storefront for today."

And if red riding hood was confused before, the sudden addition of that third voice only made things worse. If he wasn't mentally exhausted, Roman might've chuckled at the kid's loss of composure, her reaction to the sudden appearance of the Tooth Fairy priceless. But he was, so rather than laugh at her expense, he took the time to actually size up his opponent.

Well, opponent might've been too generous a word. Instead, she looked more like the brat she was supposed to be, as clueless and moronic as another brat that came to mind, as both seemed to struggle in understanding basic concepts and sentences. Yes, the moment he saw Red's blank face, he knew that she was... almost exactly like...

Then it hit him.

"Oh god, there are two of you now. Is nothing sacred in this world?"

"What do you mean, Roman?"

Recette's innocent voice didn't help in the slightest, as the little twelve-year-old looked up at him, ignorant curiosity plastered on her face. That little sentence seemed to snap Red out of her stupor, however, as she turned her attention back to the three.

"Wait, You know who he is? Then why are you so friendly to him?"

"Why wouldn't I be? He's helping me out, so of course I'm friendly to him!" The sudden contradictory information seemed to have an effect on the little huntress-in-training, as Roman could clearly see her shoulders slump dejectedly, no longer able to process Recette's words. That, or she may have contracted diabetes from the midget merchant's annoying smile. "That's why our store's called Recettearoman!"

What. No. What. Didn't they already overrule that? The criminal instantly turned his attention away from Red, shooting a glare at the ignorant child instead. You know, the merchant one one. But, before he could protest on the matter, the fairy chose that moment to speak up.

"Recette, I already told you that that name is... dubious at best."

"But Teeeaar... 'Recettear and Roman too' is too long."

"In case you've forgotten, we have already registered our shop's name with the merchant's guild, where we are formally known as Recettear." The blue fairy ignored the protests of her charge, brushing aside the issue as she floated beside the little merchant. There was a slight pause as she turned to Recette once more, giving the child an odd look as she pushed up the bridge of her glasses. "And Recettearoman is just as awkward a mouthful as your other suggestion."

"But it's not a bad name, right?"

The criminal noticed that the Fairy didn't disagree, which told him wonders about her professionalism. Or, maybe she just considered the name because he hated it? Whatever, he simply didn't care anymore. This was too much to deal with, and he actually had plans today, so the last thing he was going to do was to get caught up in their ridiculous pace.

"Can we please just get a move on?"

"Ah! Sorry Roman! And sorry miss, but we need to get going!" And with that, Recette locked the entrance to the store, before making her way up to the spot beside the rogue. It was almost comical to see the contrast between the two: Torchwick wearing an irritated expression while Recette beamed with childish abandon, striking a pose as she pointed off into the distance.

"To Adventure!"

"No, to the adventurer's guild. There's a difference, you brat."

It was about this time that Red's mind caught up with her, kicking the rest of her body into gear as she pointed towards the diminutive shopkeeper child with an accusatory finger.

"Wait! You can't just follow him along! Why are you all okay with this?"

Rather than Recette, it was Tear who answered the question, floating alongside the other two as she turned to face the redhead. "I do not know what your prior history is with Mr. Torchwick, but he is currently under contract obligations with the Terme Finance company."

Hopefully, that answer would be enough to keep Red's mouth shut. Was it too much to hope for her to not understand the statement? To just blindly stumble on the words and give them enough time to walk away? Surely, it was about time he got a break or someth-

"What's the... Terme Finance company?"

Nope.

Roman sighed, leaving them to their little conversation as he began taking the first step. If they were going to dawdle, that wouldn't be his problem.

"He's helping me with my debt!"

"... Debt?"

Torchwick paused at those words. Did that kid seriously just say that? A single glance behind him was all it took for Roman to confirm that, yes, she did. As always, the pint-sized bundle of annoyance was beaming with a brainless smile, while the other pint-sized red annoyance simply stared. This was not how he wanted his criminal career to be remembered as, and no self-respecting crook would be caught dead in this situation.

Yet, his legacy crashed before it began, and Roman could only give out a tired sigh.

"Yeah! The debt that my father left me with!"

At least that little guilt trip that the brat threw out had some advantage. Roman deliberately looked away from the child, keeping his attention focused on Red. No doubt, the way that Recette smiled as she spoke out those words were enough to stifle the red reaper's enthusiasm.

And with that, he continued onward, not bothering to look back as he heard the telltale sound of twinkly fairy flight float behind him, followed by two sets of bratty footsteps. Maybe now he'd finally get some peace and quiet.

... Nah, that would be hoping for too much.

Recette skipping at the front, Tinkerbell floating alongside the brat, and Red glaring at him as she stayed near the rear of the group; Truly, this the beginning of a beautiful headache. Or just a normal migraine, really.

They had already been walking for a good half hour, and amidst the playful chatter of Recette and the silent stares of Red, Torchwick found himself surprisingly bored. His last foray into the adventurer's guild didn't take this long, did it?

"I don't trust you, Torchwick."

It certainly didn't help that his present company was loud and annoying... but it was preferable to the infinitely more obnoxious voice of the midget merchant. Not that it made it better, honestly, since he didn't think he'd have to worry about Remnant issues out here in whatever this crazy world was called. But, unfortunately for him, not even mysteriously being transported to another planet was enough to keep him away from these brats.

"I've got my eye on you!"

"Duly noted, Red. Now, would you kindly put your gardening tool away? You're scaring the locals."

Roman threw a glance at one of the townsfolk as he said that, his expression completely undeterred by the fact that the old man ignored the sight entirely. Either they were used to deranged adventurers with silly weapons, or the people of this dopey town simply didn't care about anything. Oh well, that didn't change the fact that he could poke fun at the annoyance at his side.

"You wouldn't want them to think you're some deranged criminal, would you?"

"What?! No, you're the criminal!"

But before their little tag-along could go into some rant about the rogue's greatest achievements, she was interrupted by Recette, as the merchant stopped in her tracks, turning around to face them.

"Uhm, excuse me... But could you please not insult Mr. Roman?" Recette's voice was firm as she spoke out, the quiet words standing with conviction as she pouted at the other girl. "He's a nice man, and you shouldn't talk bad about him."

Roman couldn't help but bite back a chuckle at this, smiling inwardly at the odd appraisal he received from the brat. Honestly, it was like watching a small animal play in traffic, completely oblivious to the world around it. Of course, Red noticed his smirk, but chose not to comment on it as she turned her gaze to the younger child.

"Is he... really helping you with your debt?"

"Mmhmm! Tear and him are here to make sure that things work out for me! I'm really grateful!"

There was no doubt the little beacon brat doubted him, which was the completely sensible thing to do. In fact, if he were in her position, he would've just assumed the worst, and paid absolutely no attention to that over-the-top smile that Recette was bearing. Instead, she was making the classic mistake of listening to a hyperactive child and her pet talking fairy thing.

So, if she was intent on making such a blatant mistake who was he to stop her?

"I'm hurt, Red. Do you honestly think that little of me?" The suited criminal wore a completely fake grin as he smiled at the girl. The effect of his sarcasm was muted by the fact that Recette matched his smile with a genuine grin, but nothing was perfect. At least the fairy stuck to her character, as Roman noticed her roll her eyes from the corner of his view. "Just ask Thumbelina over there; She'll tell you that I've been helping out with all sorts of important things, like standing around and having absolutely nothing to do."

"Last night, You left without letting anyone know where you were going. That would've been a breach of contract if you didn't tell me you were at the adventurer's guild."

That earned a look of surprise from Red, as she turned her attention from the fairy back to Torchwick. "Wait, you were where?"

"Hey Tinkerbell, I got the ticket, didn't I? That means I've reserved a spot for that Hall of Trials thing, and we can get a bit of extra money in cas-" He had more to say, of course, but the criminal found himself rudely interrupted by a certain scythe-wielding maniac.

"Wait, that was you?! No fair!" And now she was pouting. Thanks for reminding him that he's surrounded by immature children. "They only had a limited number of spaces yesterday, and said that some suited guy took the last one! They told me to wait until today to try again! I wanted to be an adventurer!"

... And, once again, he confirmed that Red is just a brat, already dropping her previous issue of his criminal background in favour of transdimensional huntsmanship. Not that he was complaining, of course; this was far more preferable than listening to her complain about his achievements. It was almost insulting how she failed to see the care and effort he had put into each of his heists.

"What's an adventurer?"

But whatever reminiscing he had planned to do was quickly dispelled by the confused voice of a certain twelve-year-old. Fortunately, they had just arrived at the Adventurer's guild, which mean that Roman could outsource the explanation to someone else entirely. So rather than answer the girl, he waved off her question as she approached the massive oak doors.

"Why not ask the fairy encyclopedia? Or the help desk, for that matter?"

"Wait, where are you going, Roman?"

"Like I said, I need to take that trial thing so I can be an adventurer." Sure, benefits of being able to carry deadly weapons without alarm was also a nice bonus, but Roman really needed to investigate this little job perspective. After all, magical dungeon rocks that granted you power sounded intriguing, and despite how absurd that notion sounded, his short time in this world told him that it was par for the course. "So yeah, I'll be over there."

"Oh, okay. Bye Roman!"

Wait, what?!

Before anyone could protest, Recette spoke out, giving the man express permission to do whatever he wanted as she waved him goodbye. Not that he needed permission, but it was nice to have the fairy off his back for this next bit.

So, just like that, Roman made his way to the receptionist's desk, wasting no time as he confirmed his guild status. After a few pointless questions about his identity, as well as a much-deserved compliment about his suit, he was directed to the west side of the room, where he saw... Huh. Was that an actual guard? That was surprising, to say the least. He hadn't seen a single official-looking individual in his entire time here; not even adventurers looked that rank-and-file.

And he was as rank-and-file as they came, complete with the stupid look on his face as he struggled to stay awake. Was work ethic a foreign concept in this world?

Still, that was all he needed to know, and the rogue quickly made his way over to his destination, casually sauntering over to the guard. Behind the armoured man, he could see a giant glowing glyph, spinning ominously with some bright light, flickering every so often as it spelt out "Hall of Trials" on the ground. They weren't exactly a subtle organization, were they?

"Oh! Uhm... Can I help you, sir?" His musings were interrupted by the guard in question, who took one glance at Roman's side, before turning to face him proper. Looks like something woke him up.

"Of course you can. The receptionist told me that you're the one who's supposed to, and I quote, 'Make sure the little punks don't die when they take their trials'."

That wasn't quite a direct quote, but the guard didn't really need to know that, did he? All things considered, the criminal probably would've pretended to act a bit more professional, but if the guard before him wasn't going to make the effort, neither was he. "So why don't you do your job and send me on my way? Oh, and here's my card."

"... Everything seems to be in order. So, one adventurer and one logistics support?"

"Yeah, that-... What?"

But before he could question that second part , a painfully annoying voice shouted out beside him. That voice told him all he needed to know, and Roman turned to his right, just in time to see Red sticking her tongue out at him.

"Yep! Me and him!"

Like a brat.

"Alright, in you two go, then." And before Roman could protest, the weird glyph thing flickered, flashing out a bright light that washed over him and Red.

With absolutely no regards for his opinion, Roman Torchwick's trial began.