XIX - Crack
~~~(XIX)~~~
Walking into the warehouse in the early morning on Saturday was not how he wanted to spend his break. Oxon's paranoid thoughts were growing with each step into the criminal lair. This weekend was intended to be used to train. Now, he had to meet up with Roman. He couldn't even pull the "too busy with Cinder" card, since she had told him to help the jerk.
He was in the same warehouse he'd last seen the ginger, after his help in a murder. The place continued to bustle with white fang activity. Dust, tools, and many other different supplies were being loaded into bullheads. Oxon knew they were going to do something with all the stolen goods, he just hoped that it wasn't going to be a repeat of the docks.
He continued on until he came to a strange sight. A small girl with multicolored hair stood still staring at him. If he didn't take a moment to actually look at her, he might have mistaken her for a young school child.
"Um, hello?" He wasn't known for his conversation skills, and he really had no idea who this was. But since she was in this warehouse, she must be involved in some way.
Her response was to simply tilt her head and give him a grin. And not a particularly friendly one. There was something in her eyes that made him shiver.
He'd brought his revolvers with him out of paranoia, and she made him reflexively put his hands near where they were hidden. She noticed his intention and brandished what seemed like a… Parasol? Oxon blinked at the strange choice of weapon, but being at Beacon had shown him stranger.
The tense silence between the two were so focused, that the sudden interruption by the man he was here to see surprised him.
"Well then, I see you've met our newest recruit, ayy Neo?"
Oxon spun around at the sudden voice behind him, hand firmly gripping Fratris' grip. He made eye contact with Roman, sneakier than he damn looks, Torchwick just a second before his legs were suddenly no longer under him.
Oxon hit the ground with a harsh thud.
Laying on the ground, he rubbed his sore head and tried to think what happened. The question was answered when he felt a weight on his sternum. Oxon looked up at the smug culprit. She decided to rest by placing her parasol mockingly on his chest like it was a walking cane.
"Well hello again, Oxy-boy." A second, arguably smuger, face entered his vision. "I see you've finally made it to my humble abode."
After getting himself on his feet again, shooting glares at the two in his company, he finally asked why he was summoned.
"Well I've gotten myself some new hardware, and I know you kids these days are very much into such things these days."
"You do know I'm from a low tech village in bumfu-"
"So that makes you a perfect tester for this new toy." Roman led Oxon and the girl now known as Neo towards a secluded corner. In that corner was what seemed to be a large steel crate with Atlas's symbol proudly painted on it.
"What have you done…" Oxon knew this wasn't a social visit he'd been called to attend, but this was something else.
"Well you said you were from Atlas, a few generations ago admittedly, but the northern continent nonetheless. I myself have come into possession of one of their new toys. I was going to have some nameless white fang grunt test it out, but then I thought, "let the snow lover have a go at it.""
He punctuated his point by loudly opening the steel doors, revealing a monster. What stood in front of him was something out of the shows he'd binged after first arriving in Vale. The metal beast was at least three to four times his height and packed with more munitions than seems safe.
"What in the gods damn…"
"Quite a sight isn't it?" Roman, in true fashion, moved past any trepidation and got straight into his scheme. "This is Atlas's new weapon of mass devastation, the Paladin."
"And you think I know how to pilot that?" How?! Prism had been only a few steps from being medieval. He just barely understood how a scroll worked, this was something beyond him.
"Oh don't kid yourself. Nobody here really knows how to work it. That's why we're testing it." Well that made him feel a bit better. "And by we, I mean you, the disposable one."
Any relief he had had instantly died.
"So go on and get in there, I'm sure you'll do great!" A harsh pat on the back pushed him towards the imposing mech. Visions of a fiery death was all he could see.
"Wait, wait, WAIT A DAMN MINUTE! You can't possibly think this is a good idea?"
"That's the spirit, now if you blow up, please do so away from the dust. Highly combustible and all that."
~~~(XIX)~~~
A gaggle of terrorists and criminals watched as the upper torso of the mech slowed down from the violent spin it had been stuck in. Something had clearly gone wrong when it had begun to spin continuously, and had gone even worse when it spun faster. Eventually, when it came to a halt, a body flung itself from the cockpit and onto the cement floor.
One faunus stepped forward slightly looking at the human that was on all fours. "Hey, you good man?"
"Where is he!? Where in this shirt kingdom is Roman?!" Oxon had to pause to take in great gulps of air to prevent losing his lunch. "I swear, I will projectile vomit down his throat!"
"Mr. Torchwick left a while ago, after you crashed into the container."
"He left? He just left!?" Oxon was going to hunt the bastard down for putting him through that, he swore. "I don't know why I'm surprised."
"He also left a message for you." The uniformed terrorist gave Oxon a slip of paper
Have the kid label the parts he tested. Then make it into a manual.
"I might actually kill the man." Oxon had finally begun to feel normal again. With the room no longer spinning, he thought back on the terrifying adventure that was Paladin piloting.
The first few buttons and levers were fairly simple, but the further he'd tested, the more warning sounds had gone off. The metal death machine was far too complicated for him, even if he got a hold right before the end. That must have been the point, nobody knew a thing about it, so someone had to figure it out, not like stolen hardware had a manual.
After a few minutes of cursing the bastard for this chore, he got to work. The only saving grace was the real dangerous ones were pre labeled. Big red self-destruct, a very ominous trigger on each joystick, and even a green labeled missile launch control. He was tempted to label the gyroscopic spin lever as some sort of evasion mode. But then Roman, Cinder, and all the dang would be on him.
He did leave one parting gift for Roman, a small puddle of bile near the seat.
Get plugged asshole.
~~~(XIX)~~~
After creating a rudimentary manual, Oxon was led to where Roman had gone away to. The thief and the multicolored vixen were lounging around what seemed to be an office. The girl was eating ice cream while lounging in a recliner while Roman puffed away at a cigar.
"I assume from the lack of mechanical noise, that you're done?" The older man turned to regard him and the sheet of paper held in his hand.
"I want you to know, I am never getting back into that damn thing." He slammed the paper on the desk angrily. "It's not as complicated as it seems, sure there's too many buttons and stuff, but it operates like it's meant for moderately trained soldiers to use."
It only took about forty minutes to figure out sight, but after that things weren't as horrible. He may have even enjoyed it if he didn't know terrorists had it under their control.
"Good work, I have some good news for you."
"You finally realized I'm not useful and I can go back to Junior?"
"Haha, no. The moment you're not useful to the boss is the moment she'll send you to the bad place. But that's not it. I've actually got some more work for you."
The bitch eating ice cream clapped like this was a big prize.
"The fang and I are going to put on a little show, with that wonderful mech as its centerpiece. Now I don't care too much about piloting the thing, well it might be fun, but the head honchos want to get in and show it off. And, you being our foremost expert on Paladins, will need to show 'em the ropes."
He was going to a rally? For faunus supremacy? There was one glaring issue with that.
"None of us are faunus, why are we going to be there?"
"Oh don't be shy, they work with Cinder, and we work for her." Roman got up from his desk to look out the office window. It had a view of the faunus milling about the warehouse. "That means we're all on the same side, so to speak. So we're expected to work together."
Great, he had to now teach the terrorist group how to pilot a death machine. "And when is this meeting?"
"In a few days, but you gotta get there early, the lessons with our friends will be around 4 until late."
"Wait, that's right after classes end! Am I just supposed to Sprint out of Beacon!?"
"Eh, it's the start of the weekend, most of the other brats will be rushing to get off campus." The thief seemed disinterested in any of Oxon's worries. "Just get yourself down to this address as soon as you can."
Oxon couldn't believe the audacity of this dick. Was he really being flip flopped into different tasks at whim? Either way, he had no real choice. He hasn't had one for a while now.
"I'm guessing Cinder already approved it?" Seeing the man nod in affirmation, Oxon cursed. "Whatever, I'll join this terrorism meet and greet. And since you're going to be a face in the Vytal Tournament, we'll need to disguise you."
"I won't say no to some anonymity, but what's the reason for the secrecy?" This was a White Fang event, right?
"It's recruitment, so there is a high chance that undercover cops will be there." Oxon lost his balance for a moment at the words.
Coos!? If this is predicted, then why was it continuing?!
"Eh, don't give me that look, they're not nearly as subtle as they like to think they are. Besides, this isn't meant to be a big secret for long. And to my eternal frustration, my face is unfortunately tied to the beasts already." Right, the docks incident made all of Vale aware Roman worked with them. No going back now it seemed. "You, though, we need you to remain squeaky clean until after the festival."
Damnit, he really was hoping this would be the last time this type of thing happened. It seemed like things really were kicking off now. From dust theft to mechs, whatever follows was bounty to be trouble.
~~~(XIX)~~~
"Think the kid'll come out in one piece?"
Neo looked at Roman and then the door in which their newest pawn left through. The mute girl thought for a moment before apathetically shrugging.
"True, it hardly matters to us in the long run."
Roman thought for a while on the nature of the job. They weren't given a real choice, true, but it was better than going against the egotistical bitch. There was only so much one could do against a woman like Cinder, better to be useful than an obstacle.
"Don't let me forget to order the kid an outfit, I was thinking of a nice suit jacket, but that would be too much likey own."
Neo made a silent scoff and a wild gesture with her spoon.
"True, true, kid probably won't even be able to wear it right. Something simple then." Roman picked up the homemade mech manual and decided to go test out the thing. "Either way, I've got a show to rehearse for."
~~~(XIX)~~~
It was dusk by the time Oxon got off the bullhead. He'd spent some extra time in Vale, running a few errands and getting some materials for his gear. He picked up some rubber lined gloves since he was still wary of electricity. He wanted a full suit, but the extra layer would impede him too much.
He had even stopped by the club before returning to Beacon. Lisian was still his adulterous self, no surprise there. Nothing seemed to have changed but they seemed impressed he'd made it into a combat school. They didn't seem to know the situation, thankfully.
Speaking of the school, it was certainly a lot livelier now that all the visiting students were here. The lawns were full of huntsmen in training, studying, relaxing, and doing light training. It still seems surreal to him that he was here as well.
Grimm had been a major issue for as long as he could remember. One person here would likely take out all but the most veteran guards. Hell, even he was now a lot stronger than he had back home, maybe even stronger than some of his family. His gear was assuredly leagues better than anything at prism.
He was brought out of his musings when he accidentally bumped into someone.
CLANG
Clang?
Looking down at the poor girl he'd run into, he saw a face that was moderately familiar. Ginger hair and bright green eyes that were busy looking up at the sky. The girl sort of layed there for a moment before looking at Oxon. The girl suddenly sprang to her feet in a single motion.
"Salutations!" The girl gave an enthusiastic wave and a bright smile.
Put off by the sudden energy, Oxon gave a small wave of his own. "Uh, hey?"
"I apologize for running into you, my other friend says it's a bad habit to have."
"Ya don't say... You're okay, right?" He was surprised she was being this friendly, she reminded him of Ruby. "Sounded like you hit the ground pretty hard."
"Ah well, seems like sound advice." Oxon tried to walk around the strange girl to get some food, but her eyes followed him.
"Pardon me mister, but have we met before?"
"I don't think so? I'm new to Beacon, and Vale as well, so I doubt it." She seemed familiar, he just couldn't put a finger on it. Whatever, he doubted it was important.
"Well my name is Pen-! I mean, my name is Penelope!" The girl gave a short hiccup after giving her name.
"Well, nice to meet you, I'm Oxon Adhmad." He stepped back and gave a short wave before he power walked away from the odd ginger.
There certainly are a lot of strange folk with orange hair. Torchwick, Nora, and now Penelope. Does Pyrrha count? Gingers are redheads right?
Moving past the strange coincidences, Oxon went to get some late dinner before finishing a long day.
~~~(XIX)~~~
Omake:
Roman got into the cockpit and immediately sensed something was wrong. Well, more like he smelled it.
"What in all that's crooked!?" The thief put a handkerchief to his nose and used his hat to bly away the odor. "Is that vomit!? In the cockpit!?"
Roman used his expert limb control to exit the mech without stepping in anything. Though the smell still lingered.
"Oh that bastard didn't even warn me! Well, I will make him regret that!" The thief called over some White Fang grunts to clean the damned thing out. Unfortunately they have better senses.
"I swear, I'll make his outfit the most offensive clothing possible! A tracksuit! Maybe even a floral onesie!" His monologue was interrupted by soft clapping.
"Neo, I don't even need to look at you smug face to tell you to fuck off."
The short girl shattered into view and held out her hand in offering. Roman took it in his hand and began to feel a conniption coming. In his hand was an air freshener made for cars.
His head fell in frustration and acceptance "One of these days…"