Chapter 13: Three Times the Pain
Oh brother...
Roman huffs, marching down the street, one hand in his pocket. Where earlier he'd have stood tall with a smarmy grin, now he was slightly hunched, a light scowl on. All from a meeting with an annoying little brat. Carmine Uhlric, huh.
The brat had marched off after their encounter, leaving the criminal to stew over what he could POSSIBLY want from an annoying child. Whatever he wanted from Beacon's archives... he'd need to think on that, too. Needless to say, the man knew he could get something out of this, but he still needed to know if it was worth it.
To know if it's worth taking on whoever is doing these kidnappings, that is.
Senior was never one for trafficking. No, he was classy. He'd sooner take a shopping clerk out back and cap his knees before take any part in dragging about frail children for sick side businesses... Not without something big backing it.
Roman rolls his left shoulder unconsciously, a grunt coming from him. He stops in the center town square, people marching about on all sides. Beside him is an appliance and tech store. His eyes trail to the window, three televisions of varying sizes shown. One was on a sports game, one was on an old Western movie, and the last was on the news. All with subtitles for the passing viewers.
The man marches over to the window, eyeing the news broadcast. The report was about the missing people. A number of children of varying ages. There wasn't much in common between them all... Some Faunus, most poor, one seemed to be from the good part of town.
These are strange disappearances, though. Sure, in the city, people disappear all the time, but for a specific time frame, it's definitely more than usual. Not to mention, if it WAS true kidnapping, why these old teens nearly adults?
"Hmm." Roman thought back to Carmine's words.
'Please. The cops are likely corrupt, and the Hunters lack information.' The boy had said.
Well, the cops are always at least partially corrupt, but for cops to actively ignore this many disappearances, someone has to have big money. And for the HUNTERS to not have information, it has to be someone with resources. Almost like...
His shoulder rolls unconsciously. The orange haired man scoffs, walking away from the window shopping. "Ridiculous."
For them to be in this city would mean they've extended into Vale. For them to have extended into Vale would mean someone powerful let them IN to Vale. For someone powerful to let them into Vale would mean someone like...
The conman sighs, "... Ridiculous." He continues marching along, although his thoughts drift off... to his first visit to Vale.
. . .
The orange haired boy stood, green eyes wide, staring down before him. On the ground sat a pool of red coming from a suited man... The pool slowly expands in front of the boy.
The boy's hair was messy but short, almost buzzed. His ratty gray pants were torn, and he had only a long sleeve green shirt for a top. In his hands was his cane, Velvet Valentine, exactly the same as modern day. He'd been hugging it close...
Roman Torchwick
Age – 9
"We happy, Vinh?" A gruff voice calls from the side.
He was inside a dingy apartment, hardwood floors, dirty tables, a television knocked aside and shattered. Asides from the bleeding body on the floor, little Roman turns towards the kitchen. Two men in suits and sunglasses were combing through the cabinets with purpose. One portly one stands up.
"Still searching, sir! We'll find i- Aha!" The man smiles as he brings up a briefcase. Popping it open, he smirks and removes several vials of gray fluid.
Suddenly, a new man walks from a nearby hall, that leads to the bedrooms. The man wore a white suit. He was built big, though with a slightly larger belly. His head of brown hair was neatly trimmed, groomed perfectly. His gruff voice was much more pointed. "So Vinh... we happy?"
The portly goon nods vigorously, putting the vial back into the case and closing it. "Oh! We're happy!" The other goon comes around, nodding towards the boy in the living area. "What we doing about him?"
A third suited man comes from the bedrooms with a bag, backing up the white suited man. "He's seen our faces, so it's either kill him too, or pay off the cops-"
He's silenced as the white suited man raises a hand, all three alert. "So casually you go to killing." The man sighs, shaking his head before withdrawing a cigar. He lights it, eyeing Roman for a moment. "Besides, this kid hasn't scrammed at all. He's seen this before, haven't ya?"
Roman's previously wide eyes narrow. His higher pitched voice fills with snark. "Standing over a bloody caretaker. Just an average Sunday."
"Stupid brat!" One of the two from the kitchen marches over, raising his to strike the boy.
Roman's hands grip Velvet Valentine, eyes gaining a hard edge, as he smacks the coming hand aside. Then, he swings up, cracking the hammer side of the weapon's handle between the man's legs. He yelps as he doubles over.
The boy then strikes the man's inner leg, knocking his footing wide, before he shoulder charges into the lackey's chin. The pained man stumbles back, tripping over the dead body and falls on his ass!
Both the other two men flinch at the action, the one behind the white suit using his off hand to draw a knife. "Smug bastard!"
Roman takes a step back, glaring at the coming man. He keeps both hands on the cane, twisting the shaft to put the pick side forward. However, the white suited man laughs, breaking the room's tension. Roman raises a brow, peeking around the tall man in front of him to the chuckling crime lord.
"Kid's got spirit! Hey, ease up!" The leader roughly swats the knife wielding man on the shoulder. He then nods to the first goon who still nurses his wounded gonads on the floor. "Help that disgrace up off the floor." Finally, he turns his eyes onto Roman. "Boy, do you know who I am?"
Little Roman gives a neutral look before glancing over the three other men. "You're Senior. The guy this Johnson-" He taps the dead body with his foot. "-told me not to be caught by."
Senior smirks, nodding to the child. "What's your name, boy?"
The orange haired kid glares at the old man. "10-..." The boy cuts himself off with a scoff, shaking his head. "Roman."
Senior raises a brow at the first start, but nods. His eyes scan down to Roman's cane. "Beautifully made... You got a problem walking?"
Another moody scoff from the boy. "I give other people problems walking." The crime boss takes a step closer, causing Roman's hand to clench tighter on the cane. The boy's tone drips venom, low and threatening. "It's... mine."
The man closely focuses on the shaft. It's deep red, a faint glimmering design going down said shaft... A flower? Its color isn't colored it, just a hair thin silver outline. The black tip and locking mechanism near the top has similar designs, not colored in, but of... deflated flowers... dead flowers. The cane's white trim and white polished finish on the handle/weapon head was purely clean.
Senior's brows rose. "My... I NEVER thought in a million years I'd find one a YOU here. You're a long way from home."
"I don't have a home." The boy spat, glaring daggers.
The man seems to ponder on that, eyeing the dead man on the floor. "True... true." He, too, gives a foot tap on the body for emphasis. "You being with these bastards usually means nowhere to go back to. Still," He kneels before Roman, holding a hand out. "It's always nice to meet a rare breed in the world."
Roman's hollow green eyes lock with the man's. Slowly, the boy puts his hand into the larger man's, the two giving a greeting shake. Slow... the entire time Roman holds his breath, waiting for something sneaky. "They said you were a good man."
"They were lying." Senior smirks as he retrieves his hand. Standing tall, he puts his hands behind his back, a judging look coming on. "So, Roman. Give me a reason not to kill you."
The boy held his gaze neutrally, completely unfazed. Slowly, his face pulls into a prideful smirk as he raises his hand that shook Senior's...
Revealing Senior's watch.
All three men grit their teeth, body language getting aggressive, only for the room to echo with Senior's laughter. The man brings his hands from behind him, gazing at his wrist and finding it blank. With a grin, the man looks the boy over. "Well then... Come with me, Roman. I'll take care of ya."
. . .
Sunset. Roman finds himself in a dark alley, checking his scroll. Down the alley way, a cop car stops, a man in a full police uniform and an overcoat getting out...
"Please. The cops are likely corrupt, and the Hunters lack information." Carmine had pleaded to him.
The thought made Roman snicker. OF COURSE the cops are corrupt. Crooked cops make the criminal world go round! The cop in the overcoat finds Roman standing by a building's fire escape. The man seemed to be an elder veteran, a graying, trimmed full beard and a fedora hat. "Alright, Roman, what the actual hell happened to make you feel the need to contact me on my dinner break?"
The conman snickers, grinning. "Harold, don't give me that nonsense. Your 'dinner' breaks is just an excuse for backroom nookie at the strip! How is Mel?"
The cop waves him off, getting his cigarette and lighter from his overcoat. "Ehhhh don't mention her right now." He pops a cigarette in and lights it, taking a huff. "Thing I DO wanna discuss is that there's FIVE other guys on your boss's payroll working right now and you chose to bother ME!"
As the man ranted, bemoaning Roman's choices, the conman pulls his cigar away towards the cop. The crooked cop wordlessly re-lights the end of the cigar for Roman. Both men, take simultaneous puffs before meeting eyes. Roman starts.
"I'm doing some scouting for the old man's interests. Figure if I find anything that needs his attention, I'll get a raise." He shrugs, sighing. "Figured it best to see if the cops got anything for this, seeings the topic is just a crooked as we are."
Harold leans back, giving the man a stink eye. "Failing to see what that has to do with me."
Roman chuckles. "Well considering everyone else will crack about my looking around as soon as someone asks. You on the other hand ask for a price."
Both men laugh aloud at that, Harold shaking his head at the man. "So, you're wondering if anyone's muscling in on Senior's territory under his nose?"
"Muscling in? Always someone. No, I'm looking for a specific sort to see if they're even IN the city." Roman takes a final huff of the cigar, finishing it before he flicks it away. "And if they are, I know they ALWAYS make sure to have a plant in official positions. Cops are the easiest place to start."
Harold gives the man a look, rather annoyed. He mutters under his breath. "God damn lucky I like ya. What am I getting out of it?"
Now it's Roman's turn to glare in annoyance. "Oh, is this a full on role reversal?!"
The elder cop simply bobs his head side to side. "Hmph! Gotta give to get."
"You get later. The give is now." Roman snidely contends. The two eye each other for a moment, narrowing gazes... until Roman sighs. "Fine." He pulls a bundle of Lien from his pocket, handing it to the man.
Harold's face scrunches. "Not even from your wallet. You pickpocketed all this today?" He then looks Roman over again. "You KNEW I'd ask for money."
The conman grins. "I admit to nothing."
"Touche." The man pockets the cash. "Whatcha' need?"
Roman turns to face him, face hardening. He pulls a paper from his pocket. "Seen anyone in your force-, and I DO mean ANYONE, wear this symbol?"
Unfolding the paper, Roman holds up a picture. A stylized skull with a cleanly round head, three circular eye sockets with the third in the center of the forehead, and its teeth rounded. The sky was lacking a bottom jaw.
Harold leans back, eyes scanning the pencil drawn picture. "Awfully bold of this mystery threat to have its plants wear their symbol."
"They're quite thorough in all other means. I think it's pride in this case." Roman then huffs a laugh. "Plus, so many commercial symbols for clothing and jewelry like to use similar design for their oh-so-fabulous goth scene." However, Roman's mirth fell away, seeing Harold's hard gaze.
There's a pause, Roman's eyes widening only a sliver. "... You've seen it."
The words spark the elder out of his focus. "Uh... yeah... Couple guys here and there. Burmi, Kate, Sera, Murphy... three of them wear it on the cuffs of their uniform." He gestures to his wrists. "Murphy has it on a necklace."
Roman's gaze narrows to a glare. "What's the longest any of them have been here, and what's the farthest they've transferred here from?"
Harold eyes Roman suspiciously. "How did you know they were transferred-"
"Just. Answer. Please." Roman's told grew angry.
"O-Oldest transfer was Sera, 'bout eight months ago, and Burmi is from one of the smaller towns on the South side of Vacuo." Silence fell over the two, Roman processing this with wide eyes. Harold's hand gently nudges the man's shoulder. "Whoa. You, uh, look like you've seen a ghost. Is... is this something Senior should be told about?"
That sparks Roman from his stupor, shaking himself. "No... No, I'll look into it more. All that confirms is they're here... Not what extent." Roman smirks, though the expression doesn't reach his eyes. "Thanks for the tip. Next time, I'll treat you to some donuts next time." He pats the crooked cop on the arm lightly before turning and walking away.
. . .
Roman enters a door, entering an apartment. A rather messy apartment, that is. Sparsely decorated. Not that he has any personal possessions outside his clothes and weapon. Littered about are papers, artistic utensils, empty cigar boxes, empty bottles, and food wrappers.
On the dining room wall, a large pinup board hangs, multiple maps of Vale, building blueprints, as well as pins and outlines show. Highlighted parts of the main Vale map are given various labels: Safe House, Abandoned, Hot Spot, Avoid, and so on.
The man sighs, moving towards the couch and television, sitting down and sighing. Relaxing, he allows his eyes to shut. "God damn it."
It couldn't be Senior, could it? He couldn't have let those bastards into the city. Hell, Senior has his hand dipped into the city's police funds! He HAS to know that they've planted people. One person getting by that oversight? Fine. Two? Okay, someone's getting necked. Three? Something's wrong. FOUR?! And that was just what old Harold's seen...
Roman's eye peeks open, glaring at the ceiling. "They've got their mitts in... It isn't like last time, is it?"
Right... last time they moved into Vale.
. . .
"GAH!" A final man hits the ground, hands tied behind his back. He scrambles to his knees, nearly standing when a foot kicks into his gut. The man drops. His head is covered by a sack. Beside him sit two other men, sacks over their head, all three with their hands tied behind their back. All three sit on their knees, breathing heavily.
The wind brushes through the air, carrying the salty smell of the sea. They're on the docks, the very end of the platform with the ocean settled behind them. Each one wears khaki pants, gray-white buttoned shirts, and black shoes.
In front of them, Roman walks up. He wore his hat, a white ascot, a red button up shirt rolled up to the sleeves, white gloves, dark brown pants, and black shoes. His hair was longer, not quite shoulder length, but was pulled back.
Roman Torchwick
Age – 20
Behind roman, two men in suits and sunglasses stand by, Senior's goons. Roman frowns, tapping his cane off his neck, working up how he wishes to play this. He halts, head cocking as if elated. "Alright then!"
He moves to the first man, ripping the sack off his head. The man is in his 30s, darker skinned with short black hair. The man's eyes widen when he sees Roman, then narrow to a glare. "What the hell is this-"
Roman smacks the tip of Velvet Valentine across the man's jaw. The hit rocks him to the side, Roman rolling his eyes. "Sorry. The game hasn't started yet." He grins widely, a twinkle in his eye watching the men.
He waits for the man to gaze back up to him. "You're dead! After today, there's going to be a war in the streets for you bast-" Roman's cane swats directly into the man's ear, HARD. The sting and ring builds in the man as he writhes in pain for a moment.
"Right. Here's the way this works since you need it spelled out for you!" Roman starts, still grinning. "We had a 100 people survey! Answer the top answer, and you can walk away from this alive." He leans in towards the man, looking him in the eye. "Here's the question. Where is David Mulder?"
"When Rocky finds out, he's going to-" Roman's off hand reaches out, one of the suited men producing a handgun with a silencer. He aims it at the man's left knee. The man takes notice, eyes widening before he growls out. "You don't have the stones, boy-" BOOM! "GAH!"
He writhes and yelps in pain, but the second of the suited men with Roman walks around, holding him up on his knees. Roman kneels to his level, eye contact. "Oh, wrong answer! One more, and Porky gets the steal!" He gestures to the more overweight man in the center of the three. Roman even swats the still sacked man in the head to let him know he's being insulted, getting a pained grunt.
Roman continues. "Now, number one answer is still on the board: where's Hans, so we can reunite him with Gretel?"
"You jokin' bastards don't know real terror. You'll find out-" Boom! The man's right knee this time. "GAH!"
Leaving him, Roman moves to the second man, the fat one, ripping the sack off. He's a tanned bear Faunus, fur-like hair covering everything but his face. "Oof! I got the wrong animal for you before. Sorry about that, Yogi."
The man glares back and growls rather than respond. Roman takes the cue to move on. "Wonderful. Now, chance to steal..." The gun aims at his knees. "Question's changed up now: Who took David Mulder, why was he taken, and where is he now?"
No response.
"EH!" Roman screeches. "Times up-"
"I can tell you!" The third sacked man sounds out, despite being muffled. Roman turns to the third man. With a small shrug, he goes and and removes the sack, revealing a bald head generic white guy.
"Well, Mr Clean, please go on."
"Dooley, you bast-" Roman's gun hand snaps up, without looking, and fires at the first man. The shot hits through the head. The goon behind the black man tosses the new corpse into the waters.
Roman meets 'Dooley's' eyes. "You were saying?"
The bald man whimpers, tears building in his eyes. "T-t-the Rocky's orders! He- I- We round up at least a dozen people every few months under the age of 18. It's what they ask for!"
Roman raises a brow. "Who asks for it?"
"It- uh, it's the men with the skull masks." Roman's eyes widen, body rigid. He presses the barrel of the gun silencer into Dooley's gut, scaring the man. "Th-th-th-they... uh-"
"Name!" Roman demands.
"W-we just know an abbreviation! It's AZRL!"
. . .
Rocky Rhodes had fought his way into the city, even managing to keep most of the kidnappings back then under wraps. He fucked up when his boys took a child from one of Senior's cousins. One of those family members that you never let KNOW about your crimes, but just close enough you still care what happens to them.
Roman had been given the job of capturing and interrogating each of Rocky's gangsters until they broke. Give up the purpose of the kidnappings or swim with the mermaids, plain and simple. It was that man, Dooley, who caved and told them about the skull symbol... To have such an operation inside the city without Senior's hand, the action was simple, the greatest taboo for Vale criminals.
… They let the Hunters know. Senior had Roman beat down Dooley for days until the guy agreed to turn over all his information to the Hunters of Beacon Academy. Apparently, letting the Hunters know about child trafficking was a big enough deal to ax off the snake's head...
It was one major bust throughout Vale using several teams from Beacon's Hunters and Vale's cops. One fell swoop, and the Rhodes' family was ousted from the City of Vale, operation in the kingdom virtually halted.
And only a week later, news came in that Rocky Rhodes was executed by a top Vale Huntsman.
"God damn it." Roman mutters again, shaking himself awake. He gets up, beginning to pace through the room.
AZRL...
Senior couldn't POSSIBLY be stupid enough to work with people like them... could he..? Only if the pay was worth it. Give him enough control over that selection process... Yeah, he truly might. In which case, the conman felt, it was no longer worth trifling with. If the old man was truly that stupid, then all the more reason for Roman to not now, nor ever mess with them.
Unless...
Roman halts. "What nonsense. Gonna sleep this off and forget it ever happened." He marches along to his bathroom. Turning on the water for the shower, he begins to remove his shirt.
… On his back, on the left shoulder blade, is a tattoo in faded black ink. '1075.'
. . .
Neo really disliked waking up early. Not that she wasn't used to it, mind you. She exits her cell, this time with one of the random suited men... Fairly certain she'd only gotten four hours of sleep. The man gives her a sick sneer, which she smirks back to sweetly, her version of snark these days.
The man turns away in disgust, marching along as the tired girl follows along. Ordinarily, she'd be aware enough to walk with enough pep, possibly skip. However, even she drug her feet a bit down the hallways.
Finally, she's led into the same piercing white clean room. She shields her eyes, a nearly silent groan under her breath. Her eyes adjust to find the blonde woman, Miss Gale- Er, Blair. The blonde was already directed towards the door, waiting. "Leave her with me."
The man bristled, cocking his head snidely. "Not my orders for night shift, lady."
Instantly, amber eyes locked on him, staring through his shaded shields and into his orbs, into his soul. "I made Spyyra leave three times. Trust me, I can make you leave. So, will you be leaving with your dignity, or will I get a mild thrill at 2 in the morning?"
The goon tenses, swallowing as he... feels the change in the atmosphere of the room. "Right... Uh... I'll be back for her." With that, the man leaves with his figurative tail between his legs. The sight made Neo snicker.
Seeing the door shut, she turns to find Blair by the center counter top, sitting down on a stool on one side, the other side had its own seat for the girl. The tri-color girl cocks her head curious, raising a brow.
Blair sends a side glance at the girl. "Sit, please."
Neo nods, a slight smirk appearing. Being a supposed ally doesn't mean Neo will bounce to her whim. Rather than sit, Neo leans over the counter. She was so short! She had to climb both arms up and push her feet from the ground so she could hang on the edge comfortably.
The blonde narrows her gaze. "And here I thought we were being allies."
In a snap, Blair's left hand snaps out behind her. The hand latches onto Neo... ANOTHER Neo standing BEHIND the aspiring scientist. Blair peeks over her shoulders, just in time to see Neo's wide mismatched eyes look away, embarrassed at getting caught so fast.
The Neo hanging off the counter top shimmers and shatters... Illusion replacement? "What do you have to say for that?"
Without turning to face Blair, Neo's free hand flicks up, her semblance shimmering in her hand. From it, a one foot long stick with a square paper on the end. On the paper is a smiley face emoji with a nervous sweat drop...
"You typically communicate with conjured signs?" Blair comments, tone dry and humorless.
The little girl huffs a laugh, finally turning to meet her, shattering her sign. She shrugs out of the blonde's grip, moving smoothly around the counter to sit at the stool across from the woman. However, her smirk falls the moment Blair returns her attention to the papers on the counter. She immediately sets about writing down on the papers.
The hell? Have Neo brought here just to ignore her? The girl's chipper expression turns annoyed.
Blair pauses in her writing, flicking her eyes to the center of the counter... finding a large black question mark '?' before it shimmers away. The blonde doesn't bother looking Neo in the eyes, returning to the paper. "Oh? I didn't realize you were the only one allowed to waste time."
Neo smirks, but her eyes open a bit too wide. BITCH! She'd say if she could.
The two females meet gazes, Neo slowly turning to a schooled glower. "You REALLY don't know how to do sign language, do you?"
The girl scoffs, looking away. Her hand lays on the counter top, palm down, as she swipes it across. The blonde raises a brow, finding words left behind.
'They don't teach it. One less means an agent could use to rat us out.'
"An agent?" Blair glances up towards the girl. "Well, considering the lack of anyone else with your... condition, I'm going to assume this is a unique rule for you?"
The mismatched eyes blink slowly, the girl's lips pursing. Yeah, that too. She shakes it off, the words shattering from the smooth surface. She waves her hand around, an expectant look on her. Message is clear, saying 'the hell did you ask for me for?'
"As we agreed, we're to work together, but... I dislike surprises. So... seeing as I'll have to do multiple follow ups with various other prisoners, I figured I'd use the exhaustive time to know more about you." At Neo's unimpressed look, the blonde narrows her gaze. "I trust you as far as not informing your superiors here about me. I do not, in fact, trust you enough to carry any orders correctly."
Neo leans back, putting a hand over her heart and parting her lips, badly acted shock. Then, the look turns to a smirk as the same hand leaves her chest, flipping Blair up with the middle finger.
"Amusing. I'm surprised they haven't taken that too." The doc bristled at the childish antics. At the biting tone, Neo scowls back at the woman. The multi colored girl then points back at Blair, then waves her hand in a 'duh' gesture.
"Give for get then. Give me answers, and I'll give you the same." At the little girl's snide spark in her eye, Blair adds. "Or, if we fail, at least I can say I tried, and you on the other hand will know you squandered the chance."
At Neo's narrow gaze, Blair simply raises a brow. The little girl notices something else, the bags under the woman's eyes. Holding the gaze a moment longer, Neo points to her eye, rubbing under her own bags, then points to Blair.
The doc sighs, closing her eyes and breathing. In... and out... In... and out. The long moment ends as Blair opens her eyes again. "Yes, well... Sleep is a rare thing. For either of us, I imagine." Neo raises a brow, beginning a move to gesture, only for the woman to continue. "Neopolitan Rhodes. Where are you from?"
Neo blinks, rolling her eyes before pointing up.
"Up? The City of Vale then?"
Okay, that was a fair mistake. Neo shakes her head, tapping her chin playfully. Suddenly, she sits stiffly, straightening her back as she takes a mocking salute!..
Suddenly, Blair nods. "Atlas." Neo's face lights up. It was... weird. They were essentially playing charades! "Not one for authority, even before this, were you?"
Neo snickers, the sound coming out hoarse, strained. A slight irritated pain shows in her eyes as she wills the soreness in her throat away... it burns. Too much, as she's forced to lightly cough. Coughing makes the pain flare, but the irritation goes away faster. Irritating.
Blair notices this, raising a brow. "Let me see that." At the girl's questioning gaze and lack of response, the former Huntress-in-training grips Neo by the jaw, coaxing the girl's mouth open. Neo's eyes bug out wide, but she opens her mouth, allowing the woman a gaze inside.
Withdrawing a tiny light from her pocket, Blair inspects the girl's throat, her gaze hardening.. then her cold composure shattering with wide eyes.
"Good gods. How the hell did-..." The woman actually recoils ever so slightly. She releases Neo, the here flinching back and massaging her neck with a pained look. "Dr Near did this? With what tool, a crochet mallet and bowie knife?!"
"Hmm..." Neo gives a ragged uncommitted grunt, looking away. If not for the pain, Neo would give a silent laugh at Blair's apparently criticism of the good doctor. It was a... morbid yet still funny picture to imagine.
The blonde groans, moving to a cabinet. Opening up, it reveals an organized fully stocked medicine station: Antibiotics, heart and blood medication, pain killers, and more. Grabbing two pill bottles, Blair moves back to Neo, pulling one green pill from one and two smaller yellow tablets from the other.
She gives them to Neo, the girl wide eyed as she looks at the offered drugs. "Here." She even produces a water bottle, offering it to the girl. "The pill is a pain reliever. The tablets will reduce the swelling and irritation." The little girl's eyes simply blinks twice, wide eyes just looking at them.
A few seconds passed before Neo's eyes glance suspiciously at the woman. The tired blonde meets the suspicion with an angry glare. Of course, Neo wasn't quite pacified by the furious amber showing. Nonetheless, she pops the medicine into her mouth, slowly unscrewing the water bottle and guzzling it down. The gulps were disturbingly loud to the blonde, whose glare narrows in disgust.
Then a sudden thought hits Blair as she face palms... She'd just realized it. "I'm getting deja vu, and I hate it." Neo raises a brow, cocking her head in confusion. "You're not the first kid to try my patience." She bites back dry. Rather than shy from that, Neo smiles sweetly back, eyes holding a mischievous twinkle. That brought Blair's eyes to close as she sighs. "And this one knows snark..."
Neo visibly giggles with no sound before her hand reaches for Blair's papers. The blonde's hand swats the pinkette's aside. Then she reaches again. This time, when Blair swats her, the hand shatters, Neo's entire body visually cracking apart.
In a shimmer, Blair's hand snaps down, clamping onto the slender hand as it grips her note paper. In the shimmer, Neo appears, now standing directly beside the sitting blonde. Blair eyes her, not quite sure what to make of her. "Straight answer. Why do you keep trying to get this?"
The girl, standing by the sitting woman, huffs, pulling her hand back. She gives an appraisal look of Blair for a moment, then her semblance conjures a new sign in her hands. Holding it up, it shows a reflection of the blonde woman under the word 'unknown' which is underlined.
"Hm. And what about me are you wanting to know?" The direct question results in both females meeting gazes. Neither hard or cold, just giving one another a blank look.
Blair finally watches as the conjured sign in Neo's hand morphs, shifting to a picture of... a crude tower in the distance through an archway... a tiny water... volcano? In the center of a concrete path to said tower. Before the fountain stands a blurry man in the picture, not much more than a thick black stick figure with a black line from his hand and white on top of his head. Finally, a question mark appears.
It was Beacon... the man was Ozpin, though it was strange. The picture looked like it was from a very, VERY hazy memory. Still, it painted the picture enough. The blonde nods. "I... attended Beacon. Yes."
The picture shatters away, replaced with the word 'Huntress?'.
The blonde's amber eye twitches, but she schools herself. Neo raises a brow seeing a cold cloud through the amber orbs, closing off. "No... I didn't finish schooling there."
Neo smirks, but stops herself. The itch going through her to shift the sign to something demeaning, but no. The woman not being a true Huntress was strangely... comforting. If only to separate the woman from her only other experience with a Hunter... the man with the scythe.
Shaking herself, Neo's expression blanks, head slightly tilted as she eyes the woman. Slowly, her brow ever slightly scrunches in thought. Blair takes notice of this, raising her own brow. Neo's lips purse, eyes narrowing a touch. The sign shifts.
'Tell me. We've all been curious. How does someone get started with these guys?'
The blonde huffs. "Man posts a simple job. I take the job. I exceed their expectations. They offer better jobs to me. I continue to surpass their predictions. Suddenly, they call me in to help a dying boy with sever aura poisoning-" At the girl's raised brow, Blair pauses. "-Right. Aura poisoning is a broad class of means that causes spiritual harm to a person, either with physical venoms and poisons from Grimm, or with specific semblances."
Neo shifts, open blank eyes. As if to say 'Oh, neat'. She gives a thumbs up, though the blonde isn't sure if it's mocking or not.
"Hmph." That day wasn't a walk in the park.
. . .
The door bursts open, a man in a suit with brown hair and sunglasses entering. The three eyed skull is pinned to his lapel. However, over his shoulder is a gurgling boy. Blair stands inside a well kept apartment. Immediately upon looking at the open door, her eyes widen, alert.
Blair Goodwitch
Age – 20
Six months after Beacon Expulsion
"What in the- What is this?!" She yells as the man carries the unconscious teen inside.
"Your job. He needs medical attention." The man gruffly answers, though does move with urgency. Both he and Blair move to a large dining table, quickly clearing it as he sits the boy on the table top.
In a blink, Blair's face masked, containing her anger. She was told one of her client's employees required a checkup related to their aura. She was not, however, informed that they required on site treatment for god's sake. "What happened to him?"
She eyes the teenage boy. His clothes were dirty, rips in several spots. His pale skin was caked with dirt and dust. He had blonde hair, but his eyes were clenched shut, face unconsciously clenched in pain. He looked no more than 15. Whatever was wrong with him, he required a medical facility... Then again, that's what she was for.
"I'm not allowed to inform you of that." The man speaks in a robotic tone, rehearsed. "His aura was messed up on a job. That's all. He isn't healing any physical wounds."
The blonde cuts a look his way. "Well, I can't exactly gauge what's wrong if I don't know what happened."
"Well, Miss Gale, I can't-"
"Quiet. You're useless." Blair bites, checking the boy over. Physical wounds include mild lacerations at the left forearm, littered at each rip of his pants, and some blood from his collar. She lowers her ear to the boy's chest, then snaps from the table to get a glass from the kitchen. Returning, she places the glass by the boy's mouth, waiting a second too long to finally see breath fogging the glass.
"His breathing is slow, heart rate off. Aura isn't recovering and his injuries remaining, means aura poisoning." She glares at the man across from her, willing all anger into it. "Did this boy come into contact with any Grimm?"
The man's emotionless facade started to crack under the heated stare. "W-well, I can't-"
"There's two ways aura poisoning happens with different solutions, you fool! Just answer the damn question!" She snaps.
Two ways. The first is physical, a poison or venom that hampers aura control and weakens the body. Like King Taijitu venom, for example. Most forms of physical aura poisoning come from Grimm confrontations, although some individuals collect the hazardous material from Grimm for... criminal use.
The second is spiritual infection, which has only one means: Encounter with a particularly vicious semblance. Another person's semblance tampers with the victim's own aura, either causing temporary or permanent damage.
Her own semblance would fall under the latter's umbrella. Just like her semblance, a spiritual based poisoning must be rejected through use of aura. Many doctors are given just enough aura training and specialization just to move said effects in the case the victim can't do so themselves.
The man finally flinches, coughing to compose himself again. "No Grimm."
Acting instantly, Blair presses both hands onto the boy's chest, focusing her aura into the teen. Easier for her since her semblance can give her minor control of the boy's aura as well! An aura shield shimmers around the boy as he winces in pain.
'His aura is active.' She realized. That meant this kid wasn't some low level accomplice or grunt. This child was trained...
She finds another presence in the aura... a pull, sucking greedily whatever power comes with it. "A draining semblance?" Blair questions aloud. Quickly focusing, her semblance takes over full control of the boy's aura, as well as warping the twisted pull. And... SHATTER!
Her semblance expunges the pulling presence... for exactly two seconds before it returned instantly!The boy cries out in pain, body tensing and writhing. The pull reappeared in his aura and began draining most of what was left...
Blair turns on the man in a fury. "You said there were no Grimm!" This wasn't spiritual. The boy was physically poisoned! Before the man can sputter some excuse about not being clear, she shoves him aside. "Hold him down!"The goon does as he's told, holding the dying teen down.
The blonde moves towards her bedroom. Upon entering, the room reveals an organized desk with papers, Florescent Finish on a stand atop the desk, and several dust vials.
Quickly, she fishes through the drawers of the desk, finding a small clear bag of fluid with a line going to a connector. She grabs an IV needle as well, then grabs a small dust canister. She then gets a syringe as well, returning to the dining room.
She quickly pins the boy's arm down, quickly finding the vein and getting the IV in. She draws blood into the syringe, then uses her semblance on it. The aura within the blood quickly dies off, but upon introducing her own, the poison agent inside begins feeding on her aura instead.
She continues, gauging how quickly the poison reacts to her aura. Given the rate... She glares at the man still holding the boy down. "Okay. I know how much is inside him."
Quickly, the blonde opens the dust canister, revealing white dust crystals ground to flakes. She opens the IV bag, dropping and mixing three pinches of white dust into the solution. Sealing the bag again, she connects the drip bag to the connector.
White dust is most often used to dissolve Grimm pools, but in the case of poisoning, white Dust is able to nullify and dissolve Grimm venom in the bloodstream. Unfortunately, any dust in the blood stream can cause complications, so the white dust must be diluted HEAVILY, slowing the process. The concentration of the venom is responded with longer exposure to the white dust drip.
As the dust works its way through, the victim must keep their aura levels high... which is the next issue.
After setting up the drip, Blair quickly leaves and returns with belts. She uses the belts to strap the boy down to the table, finally allowing the asinine goon to let go. After that, she starts checking each and every small laceration, cleaning the wounds. It takes time, but she finally locates it... and injection site.
The pinpoint hole was at the base of the boy's neck, covered by his hair. He'd been injected with the Grimm venom. Disgusting practice. She quickly patches up the lesser wounds, and stitches up the more significant cuts.
She also notices a tattoo on the boy's shoulder blade. Jet black lettering '2707'. Her eyes narrow at the number, but she ignores it.
That done, she takes her place pressing her palms into the boy's chest, using her semblance to connect to the boy's aura, then begins flooding her own aura into him.
The act of GIVING aura is unique to only a few select semblances. Controlling and tampering with a person's aura? Uncommon, but well heard of. Blair always takes pride knowing her semblance is one of a lucky few.
Still, half an hour later, Blair removes her hands from the boy. His body had finally relaxed, aura levels kept high with the blonde adding her own. She groans, sighing in frustration before she finally removes the IV drip.
Moving to the goon, she gives him a glare. "He'll live."
The man, sitting on a chair in the living area, looked taken aback. "Holy shit. Really? You're amazing-" Blair's hand snaps out, grabbing him by the wrist and twisting it. He yelps in pain as he's forced to his knees, groaning.
"If you ever, EVER leave information out on me again, you will die the way you expected that boy to." Zero emotion or compassion left her voice. She was tired, yet that seemed to make the statement that much more of a threat.
"S-sorry, Miss Gale!" He cries out.
Thankfully, she releases him. "Get the kid out of here. He'll still feel side effects for a couple days, but should make a full recovery."
. . .
"So, the fool gets the boy out of there, and two days later, I'm contacted with a more official hiring deal by the same green haired abomination of a man that you know." Blair finishes her telling to the girl in front of her. Her eyes narrow, irritated. "I can't be sure about it, but I'm fairly positive that your superiors were the ones to inject the venom into the boy to test my abilities. Can't prove it, but I have my suspicions."
She let the information process in the pink and brown headed girl. Neo's face scrunches, clearly a question in her gaze. After a moment, she swipes her hand along the counter top, her semblance creating another sentence. 'How do they not know your name? Gale?'
Blair blinks in surprise, then huffs. "Well... call that an unintended benefit of circumstance." At the confused gaze, she elaborates. "I was operating illegally. My name is blacklisted from any medical or research facility in Vale." Her face fell to a slight frown. "I was using the alias to get by, raise some money to leave."
The blonde then pulls her composure back, eyeing Neo suspiciously. "Now..." She slides a paper to the girl, surprising her. "I'd like to know every detail possible about your semblance..." She then brandishes her sheathed weapon. "And collect a sample."
Despite keeping her face blank, Neo pales only slightly...
. . .
Bella's Grinders & Pizzeria.
Carmine enters the shop just fifteen minutes after noon. Going for his usual, he goes to the counter and orders his sandwich. The lunch rush was on the tail end, most of the teens and students of Signal and local schools leaving.
He sits down at a booth in the corner of the restaurant, waiting patiently... minutes passing...
The boy's face pulls to a scowl... "Come on... where are you?" His foot began tapping rapidly, impatience settling in. The conman DID say he'd only show up if there was something he could gain... But, this was the same guy, right? The same one...
'Newsflash, boy. Helping you screwed me over in a lot of ways after my boss learned of that psychopath's failure.'
Roman's words rang out in his mind, causing him to grimace. What the hell was that supposed to mean? So, whoever Roman's boss is punished HIM for... Killian's failure? That's messed up! Carmine's scowl deepens just thinking about it, but he shakes his head, clearing his mind. Don't get mad. If he gets mad, he'll do something stupid... like offer a criminal any information from the Hunter database-
UGH!
He throws his head back, groaning. How stupid can he be?! Offering something like that. Stupid, STUPID impulse driven-.
DING. The door of the restaurant opening catches his ear. Carmine snaps his gaze to the door, eyes widening. There he is. Roman Torchwick enters the diner, a mild cane twirl as his green eyes scan around.
The orange haired man turns towards Carmine, the two meeting gazes... then he turns towards the front. "Roman!" Carmine calls, raising his , the orange haired man tenses, head turning to the boy with an incredulous look. He visibly groans as he simply walks over to the boy's booth.
Roman sits across from the boy, scowling heavily. "Tell me, Silver Streak, were you dropped on your head, or are you genetically retarded?" Carmine flinches at the tone, opening his mouth to reply until Roman cuts him off dismissively. "Nevermind, I remember the Addict beating your head in. Of course, you're stupid."
"The heck did I-" Carmine growls back, anger pulling forth.
"I walk in, I order food, and I sit down like a normal person!" Roman whisper screams at him. "Blend with the crowd so no one bats an eye. Instead, you shout my name for all the public to hear. Subtlety be damned!"
The boy scowls and pouts before grumbling at him. "I already ordered you food..."
The orange haired man flinches, a look of disgust coming over him. "... what?"
"Excuse me, sir!" A chipper voice pulls both their attention as a waitress. She carries a wide black carrier plate with two sandwiches and two fountain drinks balanced on it. She carefully maneuvers around the confused man as she places the order on the table.
Roman simply blinks at the display, nodding absent minded as she makes her departure. He blinks again as Carmine puffs his cheek in a haughty scowl at him. The man simply tilts his head to pop the tension from his neck before sitting down. "So, you got me food just HOPING I'd show up?"
Carmine's scowl remained as he takes a bite of his sandwich. Chewing and swallowing through his pout, he looks away almost embarrassed. "Well, you were the only one of those guys that ever made sure to give me food back then..."
Huh... Roman simply blinks once before taking the sandwich. Turkey club? Eh, he's had worse. He begins to eat it, the two sitting in silence.
The boy eventually looks up. "Aren't you gonna say 'thanks' or something?"
"I wasn't aware I should thank you for stupidity." Roman mouths off before taking another big bite. The redhead's face flusters in anger, but Roman continues after swallowing. "You were the one who paid for food without knowing if I was going to be here or not. Don't be so quick to waste your lien, brat."
Carmine's glare magnified as he continued to munch angrily on his sandwich. The two eat in silence, the only sounds in the background being the chatter of others. Halfway through the meal, the boy glances up at the conman. "So... you're going to help?"
The question's response was a leveled stare at the boy. The man holds the glower as he continues eating with little difficulty. So, Carmine continues. "You said you'd come if you had figured out something I could give, so... what is it?"
Roman snickers, containing a laugh. "Calm down, brat. I don't need your precious inside information." The boy's startled reaction was amusing. He didn't expect that. However, Roman's smirk unnerved him. "I found a different use for you. One you won't like." He holds eye contact for a beat before stating clearly...
"You're going to help bring down my boss." Roman's smirk set in full smarmy setting.
The boy blinks at him, eyes wide but no other reaction. His mouth opened slowly, speaking low. "Uh... wha?"
. . .
The two leave the restaurant, Roman taking the lead while Carmine walks to his right one step behind. The sun beams overhead, making the boy narrow his eyes as they adjust to the light. He held a refilled cup of soda, silently guzzling down on it in thought.
After the man's chilling delivery, he hadn't budged on talking further until they left the establishment. Now on the street, some distance between them and other walkers, Carmine moves to speak. "So, what were you-"
Without looking, Roman twirls his cane up, stopping its tip an inch from the boy's nose. Carmine's surprised blink turns to a pout, but Roman still smirked. "Give it longer, just until I'm sure no one's tailing me today." He then peeks over his shoulder annoyed at the boy. "You're not the first to pull that stunt, by the way."
Carmine scowls as the two cross the street, muttering to himself. "Friggin stupid criminal crap."
They continue on their stroll, leaving the little boy to stew in anticipation. Moving over another cross walk, Roman finally speaks up. "Alright, that's good enough."
"FINALLY!" Carmine groans. "Now, what's this about-"
"SH!" The man shushes the kid, turning a scowl at him. "For gods sake, boy. How do you get dumber with double digit age?"
The boy's narrow glare bore holes in the back of the man's head. He grinds out his next words, low. "Then get. To the point! Why do I have to take down your boss?"
The conman shakes his head, snickering. He checks around him subtly, happily finding no one within hearing distance, even if they might be a Faunus. "Their name is AZRL, Avered Zenith of Remnant's Light." He begins to twirl his cane, looking lax despite the topic. "The name is long and pretentious, hence why they shortened it to a Hunter style name."
Carmine's brows scrunched together in thought. "AZRL... like... Azrael? Isn't that the name of some lesser known society's god in the south?"
Roman scoffs. "I know, right? Pretentious as all hell. But yes. These are the men who run the organization of the largest trafficking operation this crapsack of a world has ever known." Slowly, Carmine noticed the grown man's posture shift. He didn't like talking about these people... "They've been in Vale before, but each time they've tried to set up here, my boss has muscled them out."
The boy recoils at that. "O...kay? So, why hasn't he acted on them this time?"
"I think he's in on it this time." The man grumbles unhappily. At Carmine's wide eyed look, the conman elaborates. "I can confirm it's this group, and they've managed to get into the city much more openly then they have before. Which, of course, means they either muscled their way into the city's underground on their own, or..."
Carmine frowns at the trail off. "Or?"
"Or my boss LET them in this time." The two turn down another street, still walking casually. They'd moved out from the business end of the town, moving towards the more lively side. "Senior doesn't believe in simply cutting off and ending something he can mooch a profit from. It's possible that, instead of competing with his reach within the city, they simply came to him directly."
He then cocks his head in thought. "Makes me wonder why they didn't do so before... Although, I can imagine AZRL likes having more control of their parts. They don't appreciate partnership, the greedy bastards."
"Okay, but... What are they? What do they do?" The answer Carmine gets is a dry laugh, which irritates him. "Kidnapping kids, obviously, but what do they do with them?"
"Little bit if everything." Roman mutters seriously before kicking on the arrogance again. "But, back to Senior. If he IS behind the oh-so terrible shadow organization's return, that means for YOU to succeed, you have to deal with him as well."
"Kind of awkward, betraying your boss."
The orange haired man looks offended. "What? How dare you? Senior took me in when I not a home to turn to." Suddenly, he smirks. "But crime is a ladder. Kick those below you while they try to climb past you, pull those over you down so you can rise."
"So much for honor among thieves." The teen mutters sarcastically.
At that, Roman DOES show slight irritation. "Honor gets you killed, and that's the world we live in."
The boy's mind trails off... the sight of blood... "I used this hand."
Carmine flinches and shakes his hear. Roman ignores the boy's actions, announcing further. "Which brings us to our current goal. Confirm Senior's involvement, obtain an ally, and find a crack in their plans to capitalize on." Suddenly, his cocky grin returns. "And I'm hoping to accomplish all three here."
Carmine follows his gaze, finding their destination. His face falls, dread filling him, with a hint of confusion. "Um... I'm not allowed in there."
To his horror, Roman's grin doubles. "Oh, they allow people under 21."
"...Doesn't that just mean 18 and up-"
"They don't check." Roman chuckles as he crosses the street to a large building. Carmine grimaces as he eyes the large sign. Its lights were on, but didn't show bright under the sun. 'Junior's Nightclub'. The boy whines unhappily as he follows after the conman.
. . .
The blaring beats of the dance music assaults Carmine's ears. Spotlights flash along a large dance floor surrounded by clean leather booths. For barely afternoon, not even 3 pm, they were only a few patrons out and about.
The DJ stand was empty, likely on a preset playlist for the lesser hours of the day. Various multicolired lights lined the ceiling, but were off. Another thing for busy hours, then? Although, Carmine isn't sure. His greatest 'night life' is reading comics.
Across the way, he spots Roman approaching the bar. Here and there, Carmine spots a few guys wearing all black suits and reflective glasses. Sure, that's not twelve kinds of shady. Totally. He huffs and marches towards the bar as well.
Roman snickers as he approaches. A man is on the other side, back turned, as he interacts with the cash register. The orange haired deviant grins at a far off guard before walking right behind the bar, moving towards the unaware bartender.
The conman slaps his hand onto the counter. "Hey buddy! How's Shantell?"
The man, wearing black pants, black vest, and a white long sleeve button up, jolts in fright with a gasp. Turning to Roman, he shows short groomed brown hair and a trimmed short full beard. He glares at the pest. "Roman! Damn it, you scared me!"
He slams the register closed, quickly locking it. Smart, Roman notes with a smirk. "What other way would you have me?"
"Quiet?" The man quips, huffing a chuckle to a smirk. "Now, what brings you to my neck of the woods, Dirtbag."
Roman takes on a look of mock offense. "Ouch. That's not how friends act, Juny boy." The bar owner, Junior, raises a brow, unimpressed. Slowly, Roman's eyes harden just a touch. "Not exactly a conversation for prying ears."
Nearby, Carmine sits up on a stool at the bar, shoulders hunched uncomfortable. With pursed lips, he side eyes all around him, nerves racked.
"Oh, great... another hair brained score." Junior huffs. Then, he glances over Roman's shoulder, seeing the red haired boy at the counter. He then glares at Roman. "Seriously? I know we don't care, but how young is that kid?"
Roman glances over his shoulder, seeing the uncomfortable teen. His grin grows three sizes in a second. "Oh, him? Never seen him before in my life." He pats Junior's shoulder. "Now, come on. I want to be quick."
Junior sighs. Subtly, he sends a glance to one of his guards across the way. He then bobs his head towards the teen at the bar. The goon grimaces in a mean face, then nods. "Alright. Five minutes."
The two men walk from behind the bar, disappearing behind a black door in the back. Carmine watches them exit. Confusion comes over him as he looks about with wide eyes.
Suddenly, a hand clamps onto the child's shoulder. Carmine flinches as he looks up his right shoulder to the grimacing goon. "You gotta go."
One blink. Two blinks... Carmine's wide, confused and slightly wary eyes shimmer. "Wha..?"
. . .
Junior and Roman file into the nightclub owner's office, filing cabinets lining the room with surveillance televisions on. The back corner has a desk, well cleaned but cluttered. After letting Roman in, Junior locks the door, both mean walking towards the desk.
Junior takes the desk chair, Roman pulling a second chair from the side and saddling onto it. "So." Junior groans, rubbing his temple. "What's got ya going with cloak and dagger here?"
Stone cold sober, Roman starts direct and blunt, frowning. "AZRL is back in the city."
Junior tenses, meeting Roman's hard eyes, but gives no other reaction. "..."
Roman's gaze narrows. "..." He holds the gaze a moment longer before the conman scoffs. "You already know, god damn it!"
Junior groans, running a hand over his head as he shifts in the desk chair. "Yeah, we know." At Roman's analytical glare, the man grimaces. "You don't need to tell me it's a bad idea. Believe me, I know."
Roman groans, cocking his head to glance at the ceiling. He hums in thought. "Out of curiosity, how many zeroes did they have to add to Senior's bank?" Roman asks with an even voice.
"Enough that he wouldn't tell me." The bar owner grumbles under his breath.
That gets a low chuckle out of Roman, now amused. "Oh, to know where you stand. Although, if the money is that much, I suppose I'd sell out too and horde it for my fancies."
"Hah! You're telling me." Junior chuckles along with the man. Two men under the boss's jackboot. Even being said Boss's son didn't help the bar owner. Then, his smile drops as he eyes the orange haired man seriously. "But you got your answer. We know about them, they're partners now. No conflict."
The conman matches his shift in tone, raising a brow. "Oh, I dunno. Sooner or later, the king's gotta get hit with a checkmate, eh?"
THAT receives a cutting, incredulous glare from the bar owner. "... The hell did you just say?"
. . .
"Ack-" The suited man hits the floor. Carmine stumbles back away from him, flailing his arms. The boy looks around, finding two more thugs closing in on each side. The kid backs up onto the smooth dance floor.
He holds up both arms in surrender. "What the heck? I was told I could-" His panicked shout is cut off as he they charge.
"Shove it, brat!" The left guard lurches in, reaching for him.
Carmine smacks the reaching hand aside, quick jumping back.. into the right guard. The goon wraps around the boy. He stands fully, the boy's feet drifting off the ground.
Squirming, Carmine throws his head back, cracking the man's nose with the back of his head. The man stumbles, dropping the boy and falling back. Carmine lands and rubs his head. He turns on the downed back with a pained look. "I'm sorry! Just stop- oof!"
The first guard tackles the boy from the side. The other two start getting to their feet as the redhead struggles with the first.
. . .
"What are you suggesting, Roman?" The bar owner raises from his seat, standing over the conman. His hard gaze does its best to pierce the man. Yet, Roman remains even, meeting it unaffected. "You have any idea what you're suggesting? He's my father!"
No flinching or blinking. Roman rises from his seat, cocking his head as if to say 'really?'. "I know exactly what I'm suggesting. That's why I suggested it." He sees rage boiling in the mob boss, quickly adding with less sass. "It's because he's your father."
Junior flinches back, eyes wide with growing fury. "I could have you rot in a ditch of your own digging for saying this." He moves closer, almost nose to nose as he glares down Roman's green eyes. "Out of respect for you, I won't speak about what you're suggesting... but get the hell out of my office."
Just a flash of hesitation comes through the criminal. However, he digs in. Rule number one to Roman God Damn Torchwick: when threatened, welcome it. "And out of respect for one of few people with functioning brain cells in Vale, I'm going to tell you what's best for you."
Junior's eyes burned, lip curling down in a grimace.
. . .
"COME ON!" Carmine shouts out, angry, as he elbows the first goon off him. Standing back up first, he socks the guy in the jaw with his armored fist. Sending the now unconscious man down, Carmine groans as the next two, along with three more newcomers, sprint at him. "Oh, please stop."
The boy ducks a grab, digging his fist into the first comer's gut, knocking him into the second. The next two lung at him. Eyes wide, Carmine's semblance activates, recalling himself closer to the bar as the two men stumble and fall.
The boy barely turns around as the last man grabs him from the side. One of the downed men gets up, rushing and grabbing Carmine's other arm. Both arms restrained, he's pulled off his feet as another goon rushes him.
Panicked, Carmine shouts. "Jager!" In a blue-ish flicker, the armor disappears from his breast and arm, reappearing on his legs, forming calf and shin guards as the vents open.
He kicks both feet up into the charging man's chest, but the goon catches the limbs... until Carmine activates the thrust. Like a bullet, the man holding his legs is thrown back into the other two men, while the boy and the two holding his arms flip back, hitting the ground hard.
As they hit the ground, their grip on the teen is lost, allowing Carmine to roll to his feet. "Zero!" with a flick of his arm, the armor flashes back onto his arm and chest.
All five men get up from the floor, fuming at the boy and rubbing the sore spots. Carmine's eye twitches, anger getting to him. "Alright, screw it. I'm mad. Come here!"
. . .
"Allow me to paint you a picture." Roman eases back from the bar man's ire. "The single largest industrialized city in the world without the pompous laws and regulation of Atlas. The grand city of Vale, free to all the frolicking kiddies of tomorrow, free range capitalism expanding businesses of all kinds, for all people. A place where it doesn't matter if you're black, blue, technicolor, or all between."
Each sentence and point was emphasized with waving hands. The conman smirks as he takes a smarmy edge in his tone. "All the spots and holes for a healthy, albeit potentially tame-" He rolls his eyes at Junior's cocked glare. "-criminal family empire." He then waves both hands in presentation. "That's present reality!"
"But deals like these, letting other big shots into the neighborhood, creating a partnership, and not even having the decency to tell dear ole jr?" Roman scoffs, emphasizing disgust. "Well, you know what that signs for the future, right?"
Junior narrows his glare at the man, huffing. "Enlighten me, my pain in the ass Muse."
On a dime, Roman snaps a pointing finger at the bar man. "It means, you're out!" Before the man can question, the conman pushes forward. "If the old man kicked the bucket a year ago, all assets and functions would have fallen to you. The people know you. They get you and how you run. They know not to piss you off, and they know how to keep you happy. We live off the spoils of not-so-merry deeds, while keeping off Hunter radar, capiche?"
At that, Junior's grimace lost focus... giving way to thought. That's right, just lead him where you need him. "Your point?"
Roman bites back a groan, turning away as he rolls his eyes. "My point, is that AZRL ends that future. A contract with them is a death sentence either by them or the hunters. Now, I'm down for dangerous game, but suicidal behavior without a guarantee of victory? Not my cup of tea."
"Hilarious, coming from the man who survived working with Killa." Junior snidely bites back. Roman lightly grimaces at the unforeseen backpedal.
"A situation I was placed in by your father's taste in business partners, hence the current problem." Roman groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Bringing us back to the psychopathic elephant in the room, at this point, if AZRL gets any more of a hold in this city, then you filling daddy's shoes someday only means becoming their next lackey. Sure, he might be swimming in the benefits now, but they won't be so kind with whoever inherits the deal."
"And you'd have me what? Whack my own father?" The man bristles at the comment. Suddenly, he's pacing, keeping his glare on his 'friend'. "What would that make me? A man willing to kill his own flesh and blood. That doesn't inspire loyalty. That makes the target on that man's back twice as large!"
The pacing man continues as Roman keeps an even stare at him. Slowly, one of the conman's brows raises, skeptical. Junior didn't need to wonder what it meant as he continues. "The change in leadership to a 'traitor' wouldn't be peaceful at all. It'd break our operations down."
At that, Roman smiles wide. His eye flicks to the monitor televisions, seeing live feed of Carmine bashing two thugs aside on the dance floor. "Hmph! I never said YOU had to take the credit. A patsy is always a given." The thief points towards the monitor with his cane.
Junior follows the gesture, eyes squinting at the sight. Suddenly, he rolls his eyes towards the fellow man, unimpressed. "Seriously? I know you were throwing the kid under the bus, but he's actually with you?" A quick glance back to the screen, he sees the boy kick another thug away before two more rush him. "Wait..."
At the slow tone, Roman's smirk turns smug. "Ah, yes, well I indeed just wanted to screw with him at first, but I also needed you to get where I was going with this."
Junior watches the kid's moves, noticing the armor. "The brat's a Huntsman-in-training?"
"And a bleedin' heart do-gooder at that." Roman scoffs before facing the man serious again. "The hunters have shown their line of morality when it comes to tolerating this city's criminals. Do I need to bring up Rocky?" Junior meets the orange haired man's green eyes, rage and anger gone as his own thoughts run a mile a minute... he was considering it.
"Story becomes some Signal brat stumbling upon AZRL's operation... connect the evidence to father... and the Hunters do the rest, same as before." His eyes trail back to the screen with Carmine. "And if it fails, the kid takes the blame and dies. Not pretty, but who can complain?"
Junior's hand comes to his chin as he continues. "And if the Hunters impede AZRL's operation, they'll be forced out anyway, which would give me business reason to decline any future attempts they make to partner up... then the city is left to me." Suddenly, the bar man snaps a focus glare on the conman. "And what are you getting out of this? I highly doubt you've suddenly had your heart grow three sizes or something."
At that, the criminal's grin falls, down to a pursed line. "I want out." He starts simply, annoyance dropping like liquid from his tone. "Senior spared me, this is true. He then stuck me on a leash and kept me for all the dirtiest shit he needed for well over a decade. Sure, he's better than those before, but I don't do subordination. No more." Roman glares back at Junior. "If I help you with this, then any ties holding me to Senior's organization, or you even, are gone. The crime family won't mess with me, and I can come and go from Vale as I please."
"In addition." He quickly adds before Junior to react. "I very well may come back through every so often and run some mayhem. This is my home, after all." His stern look gives way to a chuckle. "I expect to have no conflict with you and yours while I'm home. Anyone tries to mess with me, I won't be held responsible for where they end up."
Any nerves or hesitation from the bar owner leaves at that, giving way to a look of clarity. "I see..." He trails off, lightly raising a brow to find the security feed now shows six men on the ground, four more standing and closing in on the panting boy.
"... They're holding an event in town." Junior starts, catching Roman's attention. "And auction."
Roman flinches back at that, eyes widening. "Really?" The shock shows. "Where the hell were they gonna pull that off?"
Junior's eyes close as he seems to center himself. His eyes open, a smoldering gaze. Roman held in the urge to smile in satisfaction. He'd made his decision. "The Silver Auditorium at the edge of town, on Delano Avenue. Father owns the place. The auction's in two days... starts at 10 at night."
The criminal grins. "Well, that's convenient-" He suddenly sputters, eyes wide. "Senior owns that place?! The hell?!"
The bar man huffs a soft laugh at that. "He commissioned it to be built. He usually rents out the main auditorium to public functions, but the subterranean floors have some other purpose. Even I've never really learned about what he does with the place." He scoffs, shaking his head.
Roman's smirk widens until a thought hits him. "... Is the old man going to be there himself?"
Junior shakes his head. "Father told me that AZRL didn't want their... 'supplier' buying the goods they were supplying." He runs a hand over his head. "He told me about the event hoping I'd go. I don't count for their little rule, so he wanted me to... procure some new blood for our operations." Junior cocks his head, popping the tension from his neck, a look of disgust on his face. "I told him I wasn't interested."
Roman takes that information in, nodding along with a growing smile. "Oh, I both like where this is going. So, we give the Hunters an anonymous tip about the auction then? They bust the place and free many the children of the sad chains and unhappiness."
That gets an annoyed look from Junior, but he shakes his head and continues. "From what I understand, even if it was a best case scenario, AZRL wouldn't be too broken up even losing that solid chunk of slaves. If we want to deal a significant blow to them, then the Hunters will need even more."
That brought a pause to the conman. "Hmph. True. They're entire organization is widespread, secretive... Dealing a significant blow requires something the Hunters can investigate further. That they can track." Suddenly, Roman and Junior meet gazes, green eyes widening as he sees a grimace pull on the bar owner. "Like a money wire?" Roman asks softly, almost unsure.
Junior groans... "Oh, god... DAMN IT." The silence between them lasts an uncomfortable moment before the mobster sighs. "Let's do it." Suddenly, he bores a glare into Roman's eyes. "You'll go in my place... and make a purchase."
. . .
The last thug hits the floor face down. He struggles for a moment, attempting to stand up, only to slip and fall back unmoving. In the center of the dance floor, over ten thugs lay sprawled on the floor, more than a couple on top of one another.
Towards the bar counter, Carmine leans against the top, panting and scowling. Only one man still stands attempting to corner the kid. "Alright, you get one chance to let me talk this crap out." Carmine utters, clearly frustrated and done with this entire stupid situation. These random jerks just pouring out and not letting him speak!
The grown man snarls, moving to charge until a voice shouts out. "What the hell is going on?!"
The thug and Carmine flinch, looking over to see the bar man and Roman come out from the back. Roman smirks and marches on over as he inspects the work around him. "Hmm... You look like there's been a party."
Carmine's wide, incredulous stare bores into the man. "What are you-" The conman puts a finger up, silencing the kid, though that doesn't stop the heated glare in response.
Junior marches up to the one standing guard, scowling. "Seriously? You guys couldn't get one kid out?"
The man sputters, nervous. "I-I'm sorry, sir. He was-"
"Don't bother." Junior eyes the sprawled out wimps. He shouts at the entire room. "You wimps have five minutes to clean yourselves up for business tonight!" A second ticks by with no movement, Junior narrowing his eyes at the man. "Clock is ticking." The man winces and rushes off as the men all over start painfully moving.
Roman smirks at the display. "Such wonderful help you find these days."
Junior gives him a side glare, moving a step closer towards him. "Two days, afternoon. Meet here again. Now, off with you."
The conman gives a mock two fingered salute before glancing Carmine's way. "And, we're done here. Come on." Before the boy can respond, the smirking man is already marching towards the exit.
The boy gawks at the man as he gains distance away. "I... But... What..? UGH!" He groans out before rushing after.
As the sputtering child rushes to catch up to the man, Roman's smirk deepens, a glimmer in his eyes not there before. He exits the building, chin higher than it's been since... well, even if he knew of a time it was that high, he'd say he was feeling better now. Two days... Two days, and he would free himself from oversight... he could finally go his own way.
This child stumbling across Roman was definitely an annoyance... but it just might be the luckiest event of his life.
Where last chapter was more putting Carmine and Neo in their respective deals, this time Blair and Roman took the lead.
References:
Blair's alias of Gale is another Wizard of Oz alias. Like Ozpin using Baum for a civilian name (Chapter 1), Blair uses Gale for Dorothy Gale.
Join next time, in Chapter 13: Three Times the Confidence.