V - Edge
~~~(V)~~~
Oxon had been in Vale for over half a year now. Spring and summer had come and gone. He had his seventeenth birthday and quietly celebrated on his own. The chilly fall weather was a glorious change in his mind. Summer in Vale had sucked.
He'd found a good groove at the club. Most of the staff were decent enough. Some were assholes, but he was able to avoid them for the most part. He was on shift tonight, his partner at the bar told him to fetch some new liquor from storage. It was an easy enough task.
He was accustomed to far heavier loads back when lumber was his every day task. But the main difficulty for this task of his was the suit he was required to wear. While it was surprisingly comfortable and offered shockingly flexible movement, it was still too new for him and he did not enjoy wearing the tie, the tight sensation on his throat was not something he enjoyed. The red glasses were a strange addition, but it did a little to help with the harsh lights in the club. Though the uniform wasn't awful, he wished he didn't have to dye his hair black.
He understood the logic with everyone conforming to one look. The illusion of greater cohesion would have been lessened if everyone had blonde, grey, or any other hair color. The worst part was he had to dye his eyebrows too. Not easy or fun. At least he was able to keep his hair's length.
A harsh clink sound brought him to the other issue of the task given. The glass bottles required a certain level of care that logs never did. Sure, he could easily throw the crate to its intended destination like he would pulp logs, but the damage caused would certainly get him the ax.
Making his way out of the storage area and walking to the bar was not as easy when the club was in full swing. Holding the crate over his head he made his way past drunk men and women enjoying their night. When he approached the counter's overhead door, he used his knee to prop it up enough for him to get by before it swung back down.
"Damn Oxon, when I said we needed a few bottles for the shelf, I assumed you'd take two trips!" Setting down the crate, Oxon brought out the half a dozen one gallon jugs of hard liquor and began placing them on the shelves. "See, this is why we make a great team, I mix the drinks and talk to all the pretty girls while you do the heavy lifting and protect me from their SO's."
The barman was a slimmer man a few years older than Oxon and a nice enough guy by the name of Lisian Noir. They worked well together, Oxon would handle the retrieval of stock and handle the rowdy types while Lisian would be the one the visitors ordered from and mix the drinks. Though his tendency to flirt with anything with a pulse was certainly an issue every once in a while. He still had some of the bruises from last week.
"I swear, If you make me save you from another Huntsman who caught you trying to get with his girlfriend, I might just let 'em girdle you." With the last bottle placed, he shoved the crate under the counter to be removed by the cleaning crew. He then went to stand back by the wall away from the masses. While Lisian was more than willing to talk to hundreds a night, Oxon felt drained after just a few dozen people reeking of alcohol.
After serving a few Vacuan agave shots to a trio at the counter. He inspected the job he'd done. "Well, if they get my ghost, then who else would there to take orders and mix drinks?" A smug grin on his face as he brought out a new pair of glasses for the next customer. "We both know you can't mix for shit, and you don't have my dazzling personality, doubt you'd last more than six customers before you snap." Oxon didn't think the hair flip was necessary, but if it kept him away from the inebriated hordes, then he was willing to put up with him.
Watching his partner work allowed him to look over the customers in view. So far tonight, there hadn't been any major issues for him to deal with. The occasional spilled drink fuelled argument, but no physical confrontations yet which was quite the blessing. His face wasn't known for being the most gentle, the harsh flashing lights and heavy beats of music had him narrowing his eyes even behind the glasses he wore. Needless to say, he was not the most approachable man behind the counter. Which was rich when he thought of where he worked.
The Club was the hub for the Red Ax Gang, and it took him a few weeks to figure out just what that meant. He'd thought he knew what he was getting himself into until he spoke with a few of his coworkers. And boy did he feel stupid. He thought the weapons behind the counter and on the hips of most of the others was to dissuade drunk idiocy, and maybe it was in a way, but then he saw other activities the club did during the day time.
He did not know what the sealed packages were at first, but even his limited knowledge was able to connect the dots. After that he paid more attention to his surroundings and work being done around him. So far he had yet to deal with any of the less than legal activities and he intended to keep it that way.
~~~(V)~~~
"Look look, I know he spilled your drink, but calm down and think here bud." De-escalation, one of the most important parts of his job. One would think a minor thing like a spilled beer would be easily brushed off, but add 6 beers to the person before all that? Preventing a bar fight was akin to herding frogs. The leaps of logic taken truly astounded him.
"Heeessss had i' out fer me allllll night!" Drunky #1 said, trying to get past me to the guy who, in all reality, should have been cut off three cocktails ago.
Fucking Lisian…
"Jus' bcuz I got pink hair, he's jelouz!"
Mentally face palming, Oxon tried to gently move him away from the other party as quickly as possible. The fool, bless his heart, tried to swing at him, even if he didn't have aura, the jellyfish like arms did fuck all to him.
And things were going so well too.
The red hatchet at his hip had so far gone unused; alcohol, weapons, and escalation was an equation with bad things at the end.
"Hey Li!" Shouting back to his comrade behind the counter, he lifted the guy up by his armpits to make it easier to move him. "I'ma take drunky here to get fresh air and call him a cab! Try to behave while I'm busy."
A sarcastic two finger salute was all the response the swamped bartender was able to give.
Oxon began the trip to the door while carrying the suddenly drowsy man to the exit in a manner befitting a small child. The man seemed to lose his fight when separated from the object of his ire and became blessedly quiet. Making his way up the stairs and near the door he passed by a girl who looked his age entering the building. Long blonde hair and a confident smirk on her lips, he gave her a polite nod before they passed each other by.
Ugh, Lisian is gonna try his luck with her. I just know it, hopefully I get back there before he causes more issues.
Once he was out he made his way to the street, there were not a lot of vehicles parked close by since public transport and cabs did great work transporting those too drunk to drive. One vehicle caught his eye. Now he'd seen a lot of new things in the last few months, but the motorcycle by the curb was something else. He whistled appreciatively at the vehicle as he walked further out to the main road.
Placing Mr. Drunky on his side on the sidewalk, he called for a cab. He was getting the hang of a lot of the ways of life here, the pay he'd gotten has gone a long way. Repairing his revolvers was the first thing he'd gotten with his paychecks. Clothes, a scroll, and a few other nice things also helped him feel human again. His rifle had to wait, the damage was greater and the larger weapon required a greater amount of money to fix.
The cab only took a few minutes to arrive, probably waiting close by for this very reason. "Hey there bud, got a fool too drunk for sense." He snagged the wallet out of the pants and picked out enough lien for the fare as well as his ID before lifting the passed out man into the back of the cab. Here's his ID, should have an address, also, some of what was in his wallet. If it's not enough, he's got a card too."
The cab driver grunted in affirmative and drove off, and the fool will awaken from his stupor back home safe and sound. After it rounded the corner he made his way back to the club. That fantastic motorcycle passed him as he got nearer to the corner to turn on. He idly noticed it had two people on it. That blonde girl from the entrance and a smaller girl in a lot of red. The second one seemed pretty young and he just hoped she wasn't found at the bar. Last thing he needed was Lisian serving booze to minors.
He was not prepared for the sight in front of him as he rounded the corner. Junior, His boss, was lying unconscious in the street in a pile of glass.
"Boss?"
~~~(V)~~~
Helping his boss back into the club, Oxon saw that Junior wasn't alone in the damage department. Decorative glass pillars lay shattered and there were many craters put into the custom LED dance floor. Not to mention the few dozen injured and unconscious men laying everywhere. Debris was strewn about the area like branches after a bad storm.
"What on Remnant happened boss? It looks like an Ursas been through the place!" Helping him sit down at one of the unbroken stools. He then went to grab a bottle of vodka from under the counter and began cleaning some of the wounds. Another guy came and brought over their first aid kit before leaving to find a few more.
"Some blonde bitch with more strength than sense came for some information." Ah right, that was what our group was well known for. "Didn't get what she wanted and this is the end result. Wiped the floor with us all."
A few others came over and either sat on stools or on the floor. Being the only person who wasn't there for the fight let him be the unofficial medic for the night. Rudimentary care was what most of them needed, broken aura and cuts were common, a few had more serious wounds, deeper cuts from being sent into pillars and broken bones. Oxon knew little about broken bones, so he let those with minor injuries take them to care centers to be treated.
He spotten Lisian with a forming shiner. "You OK man? Look like you've been kicked by a horse."
He gave a pained snort reaching for a bottle of whiskey and taking a swig. Nobody stopped him. "Horse seems too gentle, bitch was more like a mule, a real ass. Came in and grabbed the boss by the junk." After his move, a few others grabbed bottles to nurse themselves on. He understood that everyone wanted to dull the pain. Lisian explained what occurred while he was outside. Boss man clearly had it bad.
Ouch, I'm glad that wasn't me, punching me through a wall is bad, but someone holding on to my acorns? No thank you.
A feminine voice called out to the group. "Hey, Junior," or just to the boss. "I called in some of the ones that were off tonight. They'll be here in a few and help with cleanup."
Melanie Malachite was an imposing figure on every occasion he's seen her. But the limp she sported and the general state of unkempt gave her a different image tonight. Her sister wasn't much better, even with Melaines limp, Miltia still needed to be the one supported.
The crimson twin was teetering on her feet and it was clear that blood was adding to her red dress. A few of his fellows moved and gave up their chairs for the two. It seemed that the boss and the twins had it pretty bad.
"Hey, long hair, help out my sister." Clearly referring to Oxon, he made his way to the sister so he could do what was asked. Melanie had a few burn marks and a nasty bruise on her leg and forehead. "And you, bring us some fresh clothes." Another man made his way to the back where the stairs were. The upper levels were used for private rooms and apartments for those who were either required to be on hand or if they wanted to rent from the boss.
He applied some bandages after cleaning the worst of the wounds before moving on to the other sister. Taking a look at the damage it was no wonder she needed her sister to support her. Her back was covered in shards of glass with a good amount of blood flowing out. Nothing life threatening, but still an issue. Using the kit's sterilized tweezers, he bagan to remove the glass shards. He received a few heated glares when Miltia cried in pain from a few particularly nasty ones. He handed the disinfectant and a rag for Melanie to clean her sisters back.
"Here, I bet you'd feel better if you cleaned her back, I'll be ready to apply bandages when you're done." She nodded in agreement and got to work.
Also for my safety. I would rather not be the one applying alcohol to THAT. No need for me to join the injured.
Once that was done he applied bandages as they waited for the fresh outfits to be delivered.
The main doors opened and everyone tensed and then instantly relaxed when it was just a few of the guys that got called in to help. Oxon went to help them clean up the area, unfortunately, they couldn't move the larger debris. An hour later and 20 trashbags later, the area was mostly clear of the smaller rubble and glass. Bullet holes, scorch marks, and a number of medium craters were still everywhere and would require much of the floor and walls replaced.
One of the fresh guys walked up to him after removing the last bag. "What went down? Boss said stuff about a huntress laying down the beatdown." He crossed his arms and gave Oxon a once over.
Fuck if he knew, he was outside at the time. "Not sure man, I was calling a cab for some idiot and came back to this. I wasn't gone for more than five or six minutes. From what I hear, it was a huntress."
The man was a little skeptical, but he lowered his arms and shook his head. "Explains why you were able to escape being brutalized yourself. Damn, I can't believe the state of the place. Looks like more than a few bombs went off." Oxon agreed, he was more than glad he wasn't inside at the time. He had fought Grimm in his time at home and in the wilds, but human combatants were mostly forign to him.
Junior was standing now, he was pacing back and forth while looking over his men. "Useless, not a single one of you lasted even a few seconds against her." With his pain receding, it looked like his temper was coming out of hibernation. He was yelling at a bunch of people who must have been particularly bad. Nobody escaped his furious gaze. The only ones spared his wrath seemed to be the twins and even they seemed frustrated at the rest of us.
Not like I have any room to talk… I missed the whole damn fight, they might even be pissed that I am unharmed.
He was hoping he earned some good karma by helping with treatment.
"And Torchwick rented out a bunch of men for a heist tonight!" So that was the fancy man who'd been at the bar. Didn't order but gave a good tip, so the man was cleanly on Oxon's good side. "Half the ones with any experience are on their way to the hospital and the other half are helping clean up the club." He punctuated his anger by throwing his bottle at a far wall.
We'd just cleaned that wall…
"Whatever, those who are uninjured get ready to meet up with Roman." He made his way to the back hallways where his suite must have been. "Don't care who it is, just don't fuck this up too!" with that he slammed the door.
Maybe if he was quick enough he could pretend to be busy and not commit a felony with a wanted criminal tonight, what would his family think? "Oi! Oxon, you're coming with! All hands on deck here!" The guy he'd spoken to earlier grabbed his shoulder and began to lead him to the door.
Well shoot, there goes that… sorry mom
~~~(V)~~~
The group walked together to an alleyway that they were supposed to wait. Oxon was incredibly nervous, since working at The Club, he'd stayed mostly clean, so the coming mission was nerve wracking. After waiting about twenty minutes, a whistling tune was heard from deeper down the alley. Turning around they saw the reason for their being here.
A man in bright white clothes was waltzing up to them, cigar in his mouth, and twirling a cane. "This everyone? I would have thought Junior would send more than four guys, but whatever, it should be easy enough." Not even bothering to stop his momentum, he walked past the red and black men. "Well come on, dust won't steel itself now will it?"
They made their way out of the alley and through near empty streets. The lack of people was reassuring, and those that were out made way for our group to get through. At the end of the street was our destination, a dust shop.
From Dust Till Dawn. Not bad, but kinda on the nose.
He didn't have much time to muse about the shop's name. They entered as a group and stood together at the counter, their presence unnerving the shopkeep. Glancing around the store, it was clear the business did well. Many dispensers for ground dust lined the walls, and numerous dust crystals were in a glaze case for all to see.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a dust shop open this late?" The question was punctuated by a man to the left of Roman pointing a gun in his face.
The elderly and balding man was quick to surrender. "Please, just take my lien and leave!" The man pleaded. This left a bad taste in Oxon's mouth, but at this point he'd been with the gang for too long to make a clean break.
Roman began to shush the man. "Calm down," Torhwick said gently. "We're not here for your money. Grab the dust."
With that command Oxon began moving the larger crystals into a carrying case while others went to film canisters with the ground dust. Oxon had opted to leave his red ax back at the club and brought a firearm instead; he wasn't his brother, but he could still use it well. He'd gotten a dozen into the case before the guy who went to nab the dust on his right flew past him.
He looked up and met Romans eyes, trying to communicate his confusion. It fell on deaf eyes as the master criminal nodded for him to investigate.
Begrudgingly, he rounded the shelves and pulled out his gun. He hesitated when he saw who he was aiming at. In front of him was a girl, a short one at that. The sight made him forget that his buddy had just been sent into a wall by said kid.
It's just a kid! I can't shoot a kid!
She didn't let him think any more than that before he was sent flying out the window. It was so sudden that he didn't think to engage his aura. While he took the hit well, it still left him stunned.
It took him a few seconds to get his bearings, and by the time he stood up the other three were already engaging the kid, which didn't last.
Aaaand I'm the only one standing now…
Not trying to get laid out like the others, he used his gun to try and keep her at a distance. He thought that might buy time for the others or Roman to help. Like the rest of his night, that idea fell short. She dashed around at speeds he could hardly follow before he was suddenly in the air.
His life flashed before his eyes as the horrifying little girl brought her soul reaping weapon back around. "What in th-" was as far as he got before the pint sized demon spiked him down into the pavement like he was a fly.
Landing harshly on his back he let out a pained groan. He opened his eyes and noticed Roman was standing above him, looking incredibly disappointed.
"You were worth every cent, truly, you were." The thief said. Glancing at the menace before him he continued to talk. "Well, "Red", I think we can all say it's been an eventful evening. And as much as I'd love to stick around, I'm afraid this is where we part ways..." Bringing up his cane, he engaged the scythe using huntress. The two had a little scuffle before the thief ran and she went to chase him up to a roof.
Noticing that he was the only one conscious, and the wee woos of the cops were getting louder, he got on shaky feet and hobbled off, ignoring the old man yelling at him. "Damn, even with an aura that hurts something nasty." He made his way to an alleyway and hid behind a dumpster right as a cop car sped past.
He began to make his way slowly back to the club. He was sore, tired, and really missing what pride he once had. That girl was a demon. She dispatched the others with such casual ease, if he didn't have Aura, he might be in two pieces right now.
Don't do crime kids, it ends with you getting your ass kicked by children with large, overcompensating weapons.
As he got further away the sirens got quieter, giving him a minor pep in his step. Finally reaching sight of his work/ home, he began to feel relief at not having been found.
"After this, I think I'll take it easy for a while."
~~~(V)~~~
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