The Empty Seat Chapter 71 - Walk the Plank, a rwby fanfic

Chapter 71: Walk the Plank

In which the 'villains' plot the 'hero's' downfall.

"Here. I brought what I could."

The first mate handed Mercury some hard tack. He bit into the dry, brittle biscuits with gusto, knowing that he'd have to keep his strength up. After all, sitting here like a lump was hard work.

"You should be giving this to the other crewmates," said Mercury, though he didn't stop eating. "They probably need it more than I do."

She looked away uncomfortably. Mercury stopped eating for a second.

"Everyone…?"

"Infection and blood loss claimed the unlucky few who survived. It was just prolonged suffering. And my captain…"

The woman's eyes began to tear up. Mercury placed his hand over hers and squeezed. He was no stranger to blood and death, but this woman's sorrow ate away at his very soul. He wasn't used to comforting those close to the dearly departed, and her anguish made him uneasy with himself. Whenever he killed someone, he made sure it was quick, and he never had to stick around. Just one hit, and then it was lights out forever. It wasn't just mercy; it was practicality. Why drag it out when you could move on to the next thing? Even his father used to practice the same principles. What she was claiming Arc had done, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as neat and tidy. He felt like he should offer her some words of reassurance, but saying that it could've been worse simply wasn't true. Her captain was a smear on the wall, and everyone she knew was dead. There was no 'worse.'

He ultimately settled with saying he was sorry for her loss. She nodded, understanding that there was nothing else Mercury could offer her at this point. Well, maybe not nothing.

"We could kill him."

"Don't say things like that!" The first mate looked around frantically and placed a hand over his mouth. "He's only keeping me alive because he needs me to steer the ship. I doubt he'd hesitate to toss you overboard if her remembers you're here."

Mercury stuck out his tongue and licked her fingers. The young woman shrieked and pulled back, giving the assassin a chance to speak.

"If I had my legs, I could do it easy as pie, but they're probably down in the depths choking a critically endangered whale or some shit, so we'll have to be sneaky about it. I've got some ideas."

The first mate regarded him for a moment with uncertainty written across her face.

"He…He said you were a killer. Were you?"

Mercury shrugged. He was too beaten down to lie. "Gotta put food on the table."

"Were you going to kill me?"

"Guilty as charged." Mercury flashed his flirtiest grin and winked.

Make no doubt about it, he was living on borrowed time, and this was probably time to pay the piper. He'd survived his asshole father, Cinder Fall, talking Grimm, and nearly drowning, so by this point he was just waiting for his luck to run out and death to finally claim his soul. Mercury didn't fear the end at this point – he was so used to wandering around aimlessly in life that the great beyond would probably be the only thing that offered fresh experience for him.

The first mate made eye contact with Mercury. "Well, I don't think that blonde bastard is just going to let you dangle him by his heels over the edge of the boat, so we'll have to think of something else. You said you had ideas?"

"Wait, you're not gonna, I dunno, keelhaul my ass or something? Throw me overboard? Make me walk the plank?"

"I'd probably be upset if I weren't so still furious about the death of the ship's company. Kill me? You're an asshole. But kill my crew?" She looked away in rage. "Right now, I'm just glad to have a murder expert on my side so we can kill the shit out of that John guy."

Mercury had never heard such beautiful words in his entire life. He also suddenly became acutely aware of how the first mate's silken hair blew like caramel ribbons in the sea breeze.

He also became aware that…the captain was standing at attention, if you knew what he meant. He adjusted his hands subtly to obscure her view of his half-mast.

"Mercury? Your ideas?"

"Oh, right. Let's see. Our greatest advantage is that we don't have to worry about anyone else witnessing the hit. That means we can move at our own pace, even do it in broad daylight if we wanted. Now, I'm not going to be able to do jack, but I can talk you through it – when to sneak up on him, what body parts will daze him when you hit them, that sorta thing."

"Ok. I'm glad you're experienced with this; I know next to nothing about this sort of thing."

Mercury smirked. "Don't worry. I've heard that your first will always be a magical experience."

The first mate blushed.

Watts had to hold in his vomit when he caught sight of Little Miss Malachite. The woman, and Watts was using that word loosely, was rotund beyond belief, to the point that the mere sight of her brought a foul taste to his mouth. This was why he'd chosen to perform his research in Atlas. While the technologically driven kingdom was a tad stricter on their morals, they never allowed such repugnant excess.

But, let it never be said that Doctor Arthur Watts, Ph.D., M.D., Esq, was unprofessional. The cowardly lion draped in a useless cloak looked as out of place as a pork Faunus at a barbecue, but Watts maintained his toothy smile beneath his mustache and addressed the round woman with respect.

"My dear Little Miss Malachite. It is an honor."

"It's Lil' Miss."

"My apologies. My colleague and I are–"

"Say it."

"What?"

"Say my name."

The spiders around her started to approach the scientist. Watts hid his unease with the grace expected of his station and swallowed his pride.

"Li – Lil' Miss Malachite."

"There we go. Was that so hard?"

It had been. The butchering of perfectly good grammar, and to imitate her country peasant accent and mannerisms…let's just say, the sooner they could be done here, the better.

"My good lady, my colleague and I are–"

"In need of an army," she interrupted. "I know, professuh, I know. Perhaps it would be better if y'all just assumed that I know everything, and the both of youse know nuthin' at all." The wretched creature shoveled a spoonful of whatever cottage cheese slop she was scarfing down into her throat.

"Now, I must say. It strikes me as awfully strange that the headmaster of Haven Academy needs my help." Leo gulped next to Watts, in spite of the fact that his little shawl did absolutely nothing to hide his identity. "Why, I do believe that you can call upon a small army of hunters any time you need it. After all, you set that selfsame horde o' hooligans upon me and my Spiders. Aren't you hunty boys 'posed to fight Grimm, not an upstanding, Brothers-fearing citizen of this fine kingdom like lil' old me?"

"Well, uh, you see–"

Watts elbowed Lionheart, taking no effort to miss the Faunus' stomach. That lackwit needed to close his trap and let a real man do the talking.

"Now, now. Let's not raise our voices. If that truly is the case, then perhaps in addition to the generous bullhead-full of lien I'm about to offer to donate to a, ahem, 'charity of your choosing,' we can sweeten the deal with guaranteed immunity for you and your Spiders."

Malachite leaned forward. "Careful now. I'd hate for those mustached lips o' yourn to make out checks your tight little Atlesian ass can't cash…Arthur."

"Hmmm, I'm impressed by how well informed you are," Watts lied. "You're partially correct. My posterior and I cannot guarantee that the brave defenders of Mistral shan't interfere with your business any further." Watts raised a hand to silence Big Miss Malachite as she began to growl. "But, the mistress I serve can."

The push door to this shabby saloon swung open, and in glided a Seer. The Spiders dotting the room gasped in surprise, some even drawing weapons, but the (very) big boss did not flinch.

Watts continued. "You were quite astute. Hunters are supposed to hunt…the Grimm, that is. The only reason that they have focused on you instead of their standard quarry is because of my lady. Leonardo here…" Watts grabbed hold of his shoulder and shook the fidgety Faunus like a ragdoll. "…has struck a deal with her, and thus, he is my lady's to command. All we ask is the services of your Spiders for one night, and you have my, and more importantly, her word that the schoolmaster shall order his hunters elsewhere."

Watts looked at Lionheart, and the Faunus began to bumble like a fool.

"Why, er, certainly! I'll…I'll simply order the hunters to depart the city and hunt for bandits. Yes, that's right. Banditry is on the rise, and we n–"

"So, do we have a deal?"

Malachite wrapped her bloated tongue around her slop filled spoon and licked it clean.

"How much lien did you say?"

Lionheart walked out of the saloon a much poorer man. Watts, now clear of the head Spider's piercing gaze, let out a disgusted breath. That hideous whale must've been at least 220 pounds. How plainly horrendous!

"Doctor, exactly what is our plan here?"

"How ever do you mean, Headmaster?" Watts asked innocently.

"We cannot hope to contain a maiden for long, even with our now bolstered numbers. This can't be sustainable."

"No, we cannot. Our job is simply to bring her before Salem. The Queen will handle the rest."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Hah.

Blake was a proud Faunus. Blake was a warrior. Blake was a woman befitting Adam.

How could this puny human have killed Blake?

Adam would admit, there was more to her than met the eye. The first night he met her, she transformed into a rook, flashed some blinding light from her eyes, and apparently neither of those were here semblance. Still, Blake had been a maiden with real training. Even if the girl was a maiden in her own right, she could never have stood a chance against his Belladonna. She hadn't even been able to manifest her new abilities, or she would've escaped from him and Callows with ease.

How had she killed Blake?

The White Fang didn't matter anymore. The Humans, the Faunus, fighting the good fight, none of that mattered anymore. Nothing mattered but avenging Blake.

How had she killed Blake?

"Do you have any roast beef?" asked the idiot human.

"No. Heheheuhueheheu!" answered the idiot Faunus.

"Do you have any mashed potatoes? With gravy?"

"That's another no. Mmmmmheeeeee!"

"Do you have any fried red peppers?"

"Nope nope noopity nope! AAAAHAHA!"

She'd been asking Callows for something 'scrumptious-er' than rations. Her first eight requests had been for various types of cookies, then assorted comfort foods, until it finally devolved into farce. He half-suspected she was intentionally riling up the scorpion Faunus at this point, who actually seemed equally pleased with their back and forth. Dust, her incessant requests sounded like the lyrics of a nursery rhyme.

How had this pathetic girl killed HIS Blake?

Perhaps she was the shell of her former self? The damage…yes, that was it. The battle with his beloved had crippled the girl to the point that her will and fortitude were lost. Blake was power incarnate; Blake was conviction made flesh. Blake must've been the one who'd blinded her and left her in such a weak state. When he put her down, he'd be finishing Blake's last work. That was it.

Tonight, Adam decided. Tonight, before we arrive at Mistral. I'll wait until Tyrian is asleep, and I'll kill her. No, I'll make her admit it. I'll rip the flesh from her bones until she confesses to her grand sin, and then I'll kill her. Tonight.

You shall be avenged, Blake. I love you.

Arc didn't sleep. The two of them had observed him out for three days in a stakeout that would've made Cinder's intel-gathering ass proud, and the blond boy hadn't closed his eyes for a moment. He blinked, he darted his eyes around like he was a crackhead, he nearly flipped his shit when Matte had innocuously tapped on his shoulder, but he didn't sleep. Mercury wasn't sure what to make of it. In the end, they'd decided to make their move at night after all, but only because the darkness might make Arc less likely to see their surprise for him.

Mercury had been propped up crow's nest, giving him the best vantage point. He wouldn't be participating, but Matte thought that he should have the chance to see how it all went down, for better or for worse. Mercury had learned a lot more about them and grown closer to them while the plan came together, and he liked to believe that they had grown closer to him as well.

Huh, only I could fall for someone while we plan out a murder.

Tonight was the big night. Matte would either kill Jaune or die trying. When he'd realized that he might be sending them to their death, he almost tried to talk them out of it, but they'd insisted on avenging their captain.

The crow's nest didn't offer much in terms of safety, but it wouldn't matter. If Matte couldn't kill Jaune, there would be no place Mercury could hide. As they'd pointed out earlier, Mercury was more or less dead weight at this point, spared only because Arc couldn't be bothered to kill him, or maybe he didn't want to push Matte too far and lose his helmsman.

Arc was leaning over the railing and gazing out into the moonlit ocean. Grimm would occasionally swim by, but the negativity of three poor souls wasn't enough to warrant their attention. Mercury had noticed that he was leaning heavily against his cane a lot. If he hadn't known better, he might've mistaken the boy for Beacon's dead headmaster, Ozzie-something. Actually, now that he looked at the boy, the resemblance in their poise and stance was striking. Ozpin's light hair even somewhat matched Jaune's. Maybe he was the old man's lovechild or something. It would explain how Arc got into Beacon despite being as threatening as a lame pug with a learning disability.

"Hey, you!" cried Matte from the bridge. "I need you to come and look at this."

Jaune pushed himself off the railing and limped over to them. Matte pointed to the map and launched into a rehearsed speech about ocean currents and nautical bearings meant to distract him. Placing their back to the control panel, they blocked his view of the helm and began to manipulate the control with a free hand. Arc was entirely focused on listening to their made-up explanation of how she'd found a shortcut and didn't notice a thing.

Everything hinged on timing. Arc had shitloads of aura, but aura meant nothing to starvation, disease, or, as Mercury had recently been reminded of, drowning. The best kill was always the easiest kill.

Matte stepped to the side and pointed out the Northern Star, pulling out some antiquated sailor's maps from centuries long past. Arc approached the helm and alternated between looking up to the night sky and down at the charts, completely ignorant of the fact that the ship's large cannon was taking aim directly at him.

As Mercury had told Matte, time was on their side. Thus, while they'd been watching Arc and reporting back to him with any useful intel on vulnerabilities, he'd been manually grinding up a portion of the ship's meager remaining Dust supplies into powder. It was a slow process, but he had nothing better to do. Matte had given him just enough powder for one more shot on the cannon, but it meant that they'd have to land in the rural outskirts of Kuo Kuana rather than the main port. Mercury didn't mind either way, though, and Matte had admitted that they were willing to go the extra mile for the opportunity to avenge their fallen shipmates. Mercury had teased them mercilessly that he'd turned them into a proper assassin, earning another coy blush from the handsome sailor.

There was one last step in the plan before Matte could blast Arc to Vacuo and back, but it was the most important part. Mercury had stressed its huge significance to his disciple, pointing out that the plan was useless without it.

Matte stepped further away from Jaune Arc, still distracted by the star charts.

"Hey, asshole."

They pressed the button that was hotwired to remotely fire the gun.

"Sea you later!"

Mercury mouthed the one-liner Matte had come up with in tune with their own recital of it. It wasn't amazing, but it was a good start. They'd improve as they got more experience at murder.

Now, Mercury wasn't an idiot. He knew that Arc had enough aura to swallow whatever Dust blast he'd scraped together, but he also knew that aura didn't matter to momentum. The cannon fired, and out shot a cannonball-bolas they'd shoved down the barrel. The cannonballs crashed through the glass window of the bridge and right past Arc, one on each side. Any normal man would've been bisected by the chain that connected them together, but Arc's aura protected him as it caught him by the torso and pulled him along for the ride.

Mercury rotated his head just in time to see the cannonballs and the huntsman fly right through the back wall of the bridge. When they eventually touched down in the water, Mercury guessed that they were about 200 feet behind the boat. Oh, sorry, 0.01 leagues. He was on the high seas, after all.

Matte's jolly laughter was like music to Mercury's ears, and he began to feel a bubbly feeling inside of his chest. It wasn't just delight at knowing how Arc would not be falling to the bottom of Davy Jaunes' locker, dragged down by two heavy metal weights (in a situation not all that unlike Mercury's own just three days prior). It was almost like…he was happy that they were happy.

Shit, is this empathy? Thank the Brothers that Emerald isn't here to see this, or she'd say I've gone soft.

Mercury hid his genuine smile with a practiced smirk as Matte stepped into the automatic elevator to join him in the crow's nest. The two of them watched as the last of the bubbles floated to the surface and finally stopped.

Mercury looked up to them. "So, what's next, Captain?"

"I suppose we'll just have to see where the tide chooses to take us, First Mate."

"Maybe after Menagerie, we can find me a new pair of legs. I'm kinda done with being as mobile as a houseplant." Mercury scowled and looked at his stumpy stumps.

Something wet touched his cheek. It took Mercury a second to realize that it wasn't a flying fish, but Matte kissing him.

"Thank you, Mercury. We'll get you some sea legs, I promise." Matte kissed him once more, patted his shoulder, and stood up. Taking the elevator back down, they went over to the helm and corrected their course. Damn, that sailor slid in front of the steering wheel like they'd been born for it.

Mercury had lost track of the number of times he'd written himself off as doomed. He'd expected to die in Beacon, he'd sought out trouble when going after Arc and Salem, and he'd given himself up to the ocean and its Grimm before Matte had saved him in the ocean. Maybe it was time for him to stop looking for a reason to die, and to start accepting a reason to live.

Next Chapter: The Bandit Queen – In which the truth of Raven Branwen is finally revealed.

Omake (murder puns)

Mercury: *seductively* I may not have Talaria, but I do seem to have a huge, throbbing weapon between my legs. Is there any place I can stick it?

Matte: I've got a gaping stab wound where you can…penetrate me…with that weapon of yours.

Mercury: Oh, dear. It seems I've come down with a localized case of rigor mortis, 'cause a certain part of my body is sooooo stiff right now.

Omake 1.5 (sailor puns)

Matte: I'll just have to…walk your plank.

Mercury: That she blows!

Matte: Now that's a lotta seamen.

Author's Notes

A secondary source (the voice actor for the first mate) tweeted a headcanon that the first mate from the Blake and Sun fight a Sea Feiling is named Matte Skye and uses non-binary pronouns. I'm trying to be accurate to canon when I can. Mercury wasn't intentionally being disruptive before the timeskip, just unaware.

Thus sails away Mercury Black, out of this story and into his bright future. Since he hasn't actually done any onscreen murders to anyone who isn't evil, I feel like it's okay for him to get a decent happy ending here. He shall be our first departure, and one of very few characters who gets to walk out early with their heart still beating (there are only two more). Everyone else either stays until the end or dies.

Watts fat shames with his ridiculous body standards. I mean, what do you expect from a man who's essentially a pencil in a suit? I bet his mustache weighs more than his body.

Adam's epic showdown approaches, but we're going back to our other Mistral-bound roving war troupe first for the next two chapters.

Also, RIP Jaune. He died the way he lived – like a fish. Who do you think's gonna be the next Ozzie?

Happy rats, and don't do crime!