Volume CRBN!

by Dancesnapple

Four individuals. Four different people of different walks of life resulting in an adventure. Hopefully, a bond that can last. Team CRBN (carbon). Features: OC Main character, main team has two OCs alongside a lovable crime duo, and some family drama on all sides. Features a 'soundtrack' element for the fic. ENJOY! Story begins on third listed chapter. Very slow start.

46. 44 Arbitration

Chapter Forty Four: Arbitration

Years Ago

Roman continued to lay down, sleep evading him. His arm drapes over his eyes, frustration bubbling through him. Why the heck couldn't he just sleep? His sister had been gone an hour or so. AT LEAST!

Ugh. He throws his arm off, glaring at the ceiling. Sleep just wasn't coming, so he gets up. The boy had been only in black trousers and a red t-shirt. He moves to the door, opening as slowly as possible. The boy had made his mind up to grab a glass of milk and try sleeping after. Wouldn't be the first time he'd done so.

Thunder rumbles. He stops in the hall to peer out the window, seeing raindrops pounding the glass. The roar of the droplets storming over the house had been a dull chorus for two hours. If it was going til tomorrow night, maybe that would ruin his arbitration?

The not so friendly reminder shuddered him. Don't worry about it. Summer said she'd handle it. Trust her.

She always comes through for you.

In the kitchen, he scrounges around for the extras, expression lighting up when he finds a stash of brown syrup. "Yes!" He whisper screams. Summer brought home some exotic chocolate to mix for hot chocolate!

He immediately begins mixing the syrup in with the milk, shifting its color and bringing a smile. The windows flash with another lightning strike. Sure enough, thunder hits, frighteningly loud. He flinches, but groans after. He hates storms.

Another muffled rumble sounds as he drinks. He pauses in thought. There... wasn't a flash that time. Weird. He continues drinking, relishing in the sweet embrace of holy flavor exploding over his tongue. He gulps down twice before more roars sound... He pulls the drink away.

Another... then another.

The boy glances out the window. Dead blackness... The patter of rain against the window sounds, but no thunder.

That's... not thunder.

The shrill ring of glass shattering faintly sounds.

Now, Roman tenses. Something's happening. He sits the drink on the counter and moves from the kitchen to the foyer. It came from upstairs. Roman rounded up the steps, moving down the hall-

BOOM!

A gunshot...

Roman heard it plain as day, and it came from behind the door.

The door of his father's study...

Roman grabs the knob, shaking, but he needs to find out what's happening, to tell someone else. He tries to remain quiet, cracking the doors open. Lightning flashes outside, through the three elongated windows in the back of the study at the boy... The sound of rain was right in front of him. The windows are open.

The thunder sounds as Roman realizes that the windows are shattered open, rain soaking into the room in a harsh mist. Eyes wide, Roman opens the room, seeing the shelves toppled... the desk of half shattered... The mounts for sculptures around the room are thrown off as well.

Roman steps into the room, looking around. What the heck happened? One of the lamps in the room flickers on and off, allowing him to see well enough. By the window... his father's cane, Velvet Valentine. Roman reaches down and picks it up.

Soaked from the rain, no doubt-

When is water red?

A quaking breath leaves him as he looks around. "Blood?" No one is in the room. "W-why is there blood?"

And lightning flashes again... illuminating the image out the window, over the roof of the manor. Too quick to catch, but someone is standing outside the window. Roman's wide eyes remain on the spot...

He hears footsteps. The doors are blown open as two more members of the family burst in. One turns the light on, gasping when he sees the boy. "Roman! What are... you..."

The lights of the room illuminate the image outside... A suited man, laying flat on the roof outside. His suit is shredded, as if he'd been in a struggle... and Roman made out his dark crimson hair strip. Lincoln Rose.

But more shocking is the red soaking his chest... and the long white and black transform weapon impaled within. One of the family's heirlooms, design weapon Ivor Hallow... The naginata is planted in the now dead man's torso. A gun rests within the man's right hand's grip.

And hand still gripping the pole, standing over him is a feminine figure in a white robe with red interior. "S-Summer? What's happening?" Roman's voice cracks as he speaks.

Summer whips her head around. Despite the hood up, her face was soaked... Be it the trickle of blood down the right side of her head, or the tears staining her face. Her own clothes looked tattered, specks of blood about it. Her face, like a deer in headlights, was the picture of shock and, more importantly, fear.

"W-what-"

"Summer, don't move!" The two family members rush forward, drawing their own guns and training them on the teen!

Summer grunts in effort, ripping Ivor Hallow from the dead man as the two grunts open fire. Their shots almost hit her, but the girl bursts in a storm of petals. White and red rose petals. Summer's semblance...

She blinks into existence further away on the edge of the building. She nearly trips, but stops to look over her shoulder. Her eyes lock onto Roman's... and she flashes away in her semblance of petals.

"SHIT! She's getting away! Alert the edge guards!" One of the family members shouts out to the other, who takes the orders. "Priority one is capturing that traitor! MOVE!" The two had scattered, almost not even noticing the frozen boy standing around the shattered glass.

. . .

"Roman. Why are-... How-... Are you related to Summer Rose?" Carmine almost demanded for an answer.

David had taken the remains of his crew and left the village not even five minutes, and the boy was already diving straight head first into this conversation. The villagers native there hadn't been too harmed. They were rapidly working on putting out any fires.

Going to take them a while to deal with the bodies...

"Leave it! I have enough to deal with!" Roman finally shouts at the boy.

Roman simply walks from the boy, Carmine stomping after him. "Hey! Tell me everything now! This is obviously something big, damn it!" The conman continued walking, further irritating the teen. A growl escapes his throat. "Jager." His armor shifts to his legs, following by him boosting up and over Roman, landing in front of the man. He meets Roman's furious glare. "This conversation happens now. Not later."

A sneer comes across the man, a furious huff coming out. "Under whose authority, fearless leader? Barbie isn't here, and you. Do not. Control me!" Roman's voice raises in anger, causing the boy to flinch. "I owe you NOTHING, and will damn well do as I please. I don't answer to you or anyone! So stay out of my business!"

He pushes by Carmine, the boy stumbling with the push. He's stunned for a moment, gritting his teeth before pressing on. "Roman... I'm your friend." The conman stops. Carmine isn't able to see the wide eyed shock on the man's face. "Let me help."

Back turned to the boy, the man's face is hidden as it morphs down into a gritting sneer. He turns to the boy, glaring murder. "You are nothing to me." He forces out with as much conviction as possible, hoping to curb the boy's delusion.

However, Carmine simply scowls back. He didn't believe him.

Roman turns fully on him, using his hands flippantly to gesture to emphasize his words. "No one is anything to me. You understand? You think that I've paraded around with you, the bitch, and the charity case because I LIKED it?!" He pauses to let the incredulous, delighted confusion wash over. "This feel good power you THINK you have is just- just... REMARKABLE. Stupidity of the highest gods damned caliber!"

Despite how harsh the words were, Carmine let them roll off for once. Frown in place, he maintains his look. "What did Summer do to you?"

And for the first time since he cares to remember, Roman let resentment speak before his brain. "She became a hero." His tone drips with venom. "And that's all the reason to condemn her to the hell I hope she's in."

That shook the boy, fists clenching in anger. But, instead of anger, he says softly. "Then why did you save me?"

"Why indeed?" Roman mocks, turning away. "Doesn't matter anyway. For us to live, I have to go through with it, so tomorrow I kill the bastard, and we're done with it." He crosses his arms, as if the subject is done. "So, after tomorrow, my identity means nothing, and this can all piss off forever."

"Us." Carmine cuts in. Roman raises his brow, sending a glare over his shoulder. "You said for 'us to live'." The teen's turn to cross his arms. "You do care, and my point stands!" In any other circumstance, Roman would identify the stance as that of a child saying 'ha! I'm right.'

Instead, he grits his teeth, feeling his blood pressure raise. "You really ARE stupid..." He turns away, not dignifying the boy's absurd statement. "Before dawn, I'll go to face him. You can screw off to town and get to the van. I'll meet you there."

"No." Carmine demands. "You don't go into a death match and leave me completely in the dark. I'm coming with you. I'll fight their whole camp if need be."

Roman scoffs. "Piss off, brat. Don't patronize me by playing hero. You'll make it a thousand times worse." He groans. "Besides, it's been a long time coming."

The boy sucks in an angry huff, stepping around the conman. "There you go again. How many times do I have to say it. I'm. On. Your. Side!" He enunciates each word, as if speaking slower will drill the knowledge into the man's brain.

Roman snaps a gaze over before slowly lifting a hand and gesturing Carmine in.

Carmine raises a brow, suspicious, but leans a step in-

The man grabs Carmine by the arm, pulling him in and striking a knee to the boy's gut, breaking the wind out of him. Carmine drops, eyes popping, as his arms hold his stomach as he gasps. Roman looms over him. "And there is the problem." The gasping boy barely glances up, anger fueling his own glare back.

But Roman continues. "All it takes is the bat of an eyelash, a sad frown, the small person to cry just a wee bit." He gestures with two fingers for a small space before snorting. "Or just calling over, and boom. The 'hero' comes. The good, gracious, OH SO wonderful champion comes to save the day."

And all mirth leaves him as he glares at the recovering brat. "And what's the aftermath of that? Hmm? Let's have a reality check. Heroes are egotistical fools using moral altruism as a front to feel like they changed the world. And all the while, they either get other people killed... I'm sure you know about that."

The jab causes the recovering boy to flinch, but Roman keeps going. "They fail to make this craptastic world even a bit better. Or worse yet." He lets out a humorless laugh. "They fuck off and get killed, leaving everyone else to pick up the pieces of the fallout."

Carmine notices the man's eyes look far off as that sentence leaves his lips. Roman kneels before the boy, nearly putting them at eye level. "I'm not on this team to be a hero. I'm not here to save the day like the-... BRAIN DEAD idiot you are."

"I'm here because I had a shot to be free and took it. Nothing more. Nothing less." He grimaces. "Oh, but 'you saved me. What does that mean, Roman?'" He mocks Carmine's own forming response. "Brat, you were a foolish child set to be sold to the highest bidder if not killed... Maybe I identified with that... I pitied you. That's it."

He stands up, turning to walk away. "I'll be grabbing some food from these people. Not like they can tell me no. Don't follow me." He marches off, leaving Carmine behind.

. . .

Years Ago

The boy stood still, surrounded by dozens of all ages and sizes. Children, adults, elderly... family. Little Roman and everyone was uniform, dressed in black. In the wide expansive field, before them was a great deep square hole. A coffin moving inside.

A priest had been speaking about the man, but Roman didn't listen to a single word of it. All he felt was... confused. Even days later, he had no idea what to make of everything. One moment, he and two guards come upon his sister standing over his father's dead body. The next three days were an entire storm of chaos.

Where is Summer Rose?

Why would she assassinate her own father?

How could we have missed this occurring?

… Who is in charge now?

That last question was the largest weighing on everyone around him. Summer herself had been next in the line of succession. Now that she's been branded a traitor... the next highest person on that list was Roman.

However, he was only five years old. He was able to organize a cookie theft, not the largest criminal empire this side of Remnant! As such, his uncle had stepped in and began running things. Uncle Damask, or Damascus Rose. The man had taken to the position well.

So well, in fact, that he had yet to mention a single syllable of arbitration.

Roman gulps at the thought. The question still hung in the air. What was going to happen to him? When Summer said she would make sure he wouldn't have to undergo arbitration, was that a part of it?Where did she go next?

Did she have any ulterior motives? No. Roman recalls her visit to his room. She would be back. She would be back for him.

A small part of him questioned whether that itself was a good thing. She did just murder their father... Yet, Roman couldn't find it in him to shed a tear over the man. He'd been nothing more than a face of authority. Of fear.

… Summer would be back soon.

After the funeral, Roman was left to roam his home, the manor. The manor was where most of the major meetings and actions take place, so his Uncle was now situated inside his father's study. It'd been a hay day cleaning the place, he'd heard.

Summer also had fled from the compound with one of the family's ornate weapons. A case that could change to either a beautiful naginata or semi auto rifle named Ivor Hallow. It had been one of many treasures made for former family operatives of the past, worth a fortune to be sure. Many such artifacts, if lost, became a priority to get back due to their value, sentimental or wealth.

As was the thought as he looks at the object in his hands. The weaponized cane, Velvet Valentine, was a gift given directly to his father some time before Roman had been born. Fitting for a mobster, its ability to transform into a Tommy gun with appropriate dust magazines. Its handle crafted into an opera grip, the curve handle arm tapers into a point for sharp pick. While the other side is rounded in a bulb able to be a back weight to the pick as well as a hammer head.

Beautiful and lethal. Built for a Rose.

Roman grimaces before hearing voices from his father's study.

"... -afford to move like this. You had your duties before, but with Lincoln gone, it's too much for one man." One of the aides says inside the room. He's speaking to his uncle, Roman finds as the boy hides around the corner.

Damask huffs. "And you'd have me what? Hmm? Hand over the duties of organization to the five year old brother to the latest traitor? I KNOW we're taking losses in the territories at the news, but we need to hammer out strong." Damascus Rose, sitting at the chair Lincoln had been not a week ago, looked impeccable as ever. His white hair fading into pink, swept at the sides. His green eyes scrutinized his underling.

"Sir..." He looks to the other aides in the room for moral support before voicing himself. "The territories in Vacuo and Vale are on the verge of turning sides, be it to Senior or Merlin. Many of our operations here in Mistral even are suddenly going against orders and dealing with the bandit clans behind our backs."

"Then we have plenty of examples to make out of scum. Is that all you wish to say?" Damask replies, clearly frustrated with the questioning.

Another aide speaks up. "It's just that... we can't. The dissidents are taking advantage. This isn't like where they have months to know a new leader is coming. The sudden change has made everyone suddenly grow a pair... Sir, we're going to lose over half our revenue sources this week alone."

"You mean 'could'?" Damask growls. "Unless you do your jobs-"

"We mean can't." A third aide cuts in, interrupting the man.

Roman sucks in a breath. For all intents and purposes, Damask was now holding Lincoln's position... and no one DARED to interrupt him except for Summer. He can almost feel the tension in the room mount.

"This isn't a conversation about what we can do. This is a heads up about what IS happening." The aide continues. "The family was an oiled machine under Lincoln, but without him, we're in trouble on all sides. Turn coats are the least of it. If anyone muscles in on our territories as is, we'll lose. No one we contract for help trusts our leadership."

Damask glares at the man before suppressing it and smiling politely. "Well... perhaps you should be as honest as you pretend to be blunt..." His smile remains as hard eyes stare back. "You doubt me... That doubt has poisoned everyone else then? Is that it?"

No response came, and Roman came to realize that yes, that was the issue. His uncle was never viewed as weak... but then again, compared to Roman's father... It makes sense. Hearing that the brother was now in charge in and of itself seems to be collapsing the entire family's expansion.

"Well... Your concern is noted. I will make some calls. I believe I have a solution that should make everyone happy."

He could hear the aides shuffle, sending glances back and forth. "S-sir? Is that wise?"

"Wise left the moment that once brilliant girl speared by brother in the chest and fled. If things are as bad as they seem, then desperate measures must be taken. Dismissed."

A clench in the boy's chest was the warning. A bad omen. Yet, he walked away from the door. Perhaps all would end up fine by itself?

. . .

Roman finishes off the ration, crumpling the wrapper and tossing it away. He'd left the village already, sunset coming soon. He sits back inside a basic jeep, its owner one of the dead Consortium bandits. They won't be missing it anytime soon, obviously.

He best rest soon. Less than fifteen hours before his match against David. Just another lie then, aye Summer? All this time, and he's doing it anyway. Except, rather than losing face and status, he's libel to lose his life if he loses. Roman sighs, gaze drifting up.

It's been years since he'd done this. Wondered about what would have happened if she hadn't played hero. Sure, he'd have likely been creamed into the dirt... and perhaps his status in line for the family could've been irreparably damaged. Yet, SHE was the one first in line. That shouldn't have mattered. He could have taken the beating, and everything could have been fine.

But she had to play hero.

He pulls out a cigar and lights it, needing a smoke. What between David bringing family back into things and Silver Streak dragging Summer out of the depths of his mind, he was at his wits end. Well, at least if there is an afterlife and he dies, he can finally tell Summer to fuck off face to face.

He pauses in thought at that... He'd yet to process that really... Summer was dead.

His hand pauses with the cigar lit. Roman actually had to process it. He'd figured she'd finally gone off and had the life she'd always wanted. Kids. Picture perfect house. Saving cats from trees. The whole nine yards.

He couldn't help the small... clench in his chest at that. However, the feeling was one he'd learned far too well how to ignore. He takes the cigar into his mouth and takes the biggest huff he can.

Left to his thoughts, he does have one wonder. Bet. Will Silver Streak still show up tomorrow?

Well, given the village of people he'd just helped, maybe? Still, maybe now the brat finally had it in his head. He didn't make friends. He didn't get attached. The only things that he needs are four words: Lie. Cheat. Steal. Survive.

He needs to focus on survival right now.

. . .

"Thank you, young man." The elder of the village speaks up for the boy.

Carmine grimaces, but nods gracefully. Behind him, the villagers had successfully gathered all the bodies from the raid. There were already prayer gatherings and rites being performed. Thankfully, none of the casualties had been original members of the village... but that didn't stop some of the villagers from having befriended at few of the bandits.

They still lost friends.

Speaking of lost friends, his mind goes back to Roman.

The bastard freaking knocked the air out of him just to make a point... but it just doesn't make sense! What's so wrong with just accepting help? Heroes? It's like he has some sort of problem with people just being nice, and Summer's involved.

Think. Summer Rose. Wilted Rose Cartel. Roman's the heir of the cartel head, so that makes him one of their main members... which makes Summer... He didn't like to, be the boy tried to think back on all his conversations he'd had with the woman back then.

Come on. Think. Think!

He sucks in a breath.

"I lost my family all at once, too." Summer's voice came, speaking to the boy softly in the night...

Carmine's eyes widened. That's right. She DID mention it. Her words, almost as if recorded, played back in his mind.

"It's different from your situation, I can't lie. Mostly because I didn't lose them in the same sense, but I lost them all the same. 24 hours was all it took to separate me from everyone important to me. The worst part was that it was by choice... It was a trying time. I had cousins, a father, an uncle, sibling... I lost it all, and I will always want parts of that back."

Cousins, a sibling...

"Even to get one chance to talk to my own father just one more time."

Okay, so she had family that she chose to walk away from... and her father was killed. What did that- ROMAN! In Mibu, at the dessert cafe!

"What about your sibling? No one can dismiss their sibling." Carmine had brought it up after Roman mentioned having dozens of cousins! The response that came was so full of resentment!

"She's a harlot bitch that, for all I care to know, either fucked off or died." Roman was quite clear in his disdain for his one sibling back then... but now Carmine thinks to the words Roman used just yesterday afternoon. "Summer Rose was a harlot whore for heroism, and her dying for a self loathing brat is icing on the cake."

Harlot... The insult bubbled anger from the boy, but... he used the same insult for both his sister and Summer.

Half sister, he'd explained.

There's just no way someone as mean spirited as that bastard can be related, directly so, to someone as amazing as Summer.

But... Summer made a choice that cost her life with her family. So, that means Roman must have been affected by that choice! Roman's own words come back... Heroes. They fuck off and leave everyone else to pick up the pieces.

Carmine centers himself and takes a breath. Roman needs help, and he's never going to ask for it. So... he just needs to give it anyway. If Roman feels like he had to deal with the fallout of Summer's decision, then his mission is clear. He needs to show that he's not going to abandon Roman in any way. He needs to support him...

Which means he needs to know where the hell he's going.

Roman took a jeep and left an hour ago, so Carmine searches for someone that might know. If the enemy knew this location, then maybe the bandits here knew where they were also?

Carmine smiles, knowing exactly who to ask. It pays to be a hero. And he will prove it to Roman.

He marches across the village, finding where the wounded are. The smell of blood was heavy in the air, and the boy had to grimace when he found he wasn't entirely retching at it. He looks about and... there!By the lake side, the only two surviving members of the Consortium lay with tended wounds and villages aiming guns at them to stay down.

The wicked looking woman and the bird faunus were anything but chipper.

Carmine suddenly hesitates a moment, but approaches slower. He hadn't learned until afterward that they were each top members, almost hunter trained mercenaries. Better not to piss them off. "Hi... how are you two feeling?"

The woman snaps her gaze to the boy, Carmine's hand itching on Heulin Noon's grip. Thankfully, the bird faunus speaks. "Out with what you want. I've no more patience for the day."

Nodding at the information, Carmine centers himself. "The guy who lead the attack. David... Rose." The name felt tainted on his tongue. "If you want him gone, know that he'll be dealt with tomorrow morning." He pauses to gauge their attention. Fenton, the faunus, narrows his gaze at him. "I want to guarantee that, and... I need directions to his hideout."

"PFTAHAHA!" The woman, Scilla, cackles at the admission. "The brat wants our help to get revenge on our behalf! That's rich. Say, bring a map over here, and I'll give ya what you need."

Alarm bells. Carmine sends a glower to Fenton, who grumbles. "She wishes you to get close so she may steal your weapon." Him outing her intention leads to a scathing glare from said girl.

"Yeeeaaaah, I wasn't going to consider anything from her." Carmine mutters, then getting her glare his way. "You're very untrustworthy, lady." He directs his gaze to Fenton. "So... you want to help me out? I'm not exactly in a position to arrest you, sure, but I can convince these people to be more open to ya, maybe?"

The bird man meets his gaze, eyes narrowing as he cocks his head. However, he remained silent. His scrutiny was clear, so the boy thought he might just wait it out. Not that he didn't still get uncomfortable as hell.

"My people are based out of southern Vacuo. A tribe of avian faunus." Fenton starts. "Thirty years ago, we raided an outpost. Happened upon a force greater than ourselves. I lost everyone that day."

Carmine grimaces, and gently lowers himself to sit across from the faunus. "I wish I could say sorry, but I can't help but feel you asked for that to happen."

"And you'd be correct." Fenton admits. "Twas the risk of that life style. I was imprisoned, but found myself sharing a cell with a man who had been there a week longer than myself. He had the foresight and wit to catch a way out, but required my... ability." Carmine frowns, knowing where this was going. "That man's now dead... and I would love nothing more than to know his killer is the same."

The boy nods. "So, you'll tell me?"

"In exchange for a curiosity. A query and an answer each way."

Carmine raises a brow. "You want me to answer a question? Easy. Too easy... What's the catch?"

"None."

The two were left in silence as Carmine gauges how trustworthy the man is. Nothing was shifty. If he was manipulating, he would have asked for more than a question. So... "Alright. Ask."

"Your father. Did he have silver hair and act as a teacher of sorts?"

Carmine sucks in a breath, eyes bulging. "Pardon?" His confused verbal tick earns a wry snicker. Fenton was amused. But... how could he-

"I figured. That face isn't one to forget easily. You're a spitting image, with added red and that woman's eyes." Fenton chuckles. "The man who foiled us twenty years ago sired the one who will avenge us. The irony." He sees Carmine's apprehension. "Simply confirm it for me, and I will answer. I will not speak it openly."

Carmine looks to Scilla, who looks positively out of the loop. What does he mean 'that woman's eyes'?! However, he needs information, so... "Yes. You're right."

Fenton smiles and nods. "Then ask your one question."

Ah, now Carmine realizes what he's doing. He's providing another curiosity to pull the boy off course. To potentially force the boy to offer more. Carmine can either ask about this, or continue with his original question. That woman? Never once had the thought of his birth mother been dangled in front of him in such a way... But Roman is more important.

"Where is David Rose's hideout?" He speaks resolute.

Fenton sighs. He tried. "Very well... It is over the mountain range-" As the man explains to the boy where to go.

. . .

Years Ago

She hasn't come yet.

Days turned to weeks... and weeks to three months. In all that time, the family remained tense. Stressed. At wits end. Roman hadn't been bothered in the slightest by David. Hadn't seen him him weeks, now that he thought of it. Still, he noticed some of the enforcers had been coming back injured. That's... not something he'd ever seen before.

So, the boy marched into what used to be his father's study. His uncle sits at the desk, looking up from the paperwork before him. "Uncle, you asked for me?"

The man smiles warmly, nodding. "Roman, Roman, how wonderful to see you. Have you been well?"

Roman shifts uneasy before mumbling. "I'm fine, sir... Is everything okay?"

"Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful." Damask Rose answers, though the child catches his off tone. "I'm glad you answered. We have a guest on his way here who I cannot wait for you to meet." He returns his attention to the reports, leaving Roman with questions.

"Sir, is the family going to be okay?"

The man waves his hand dismissively. "Oh, but of course! Our friend coming here will see to it personally." He blew over the boy's concern, but Roman only frowns.

"How?"

The man pauses as his hand was reaching another parchment. His eyes harden for a second before the smile returns. "Far too much for you to concern yourself with. Just know he has the pull of resources on his side."

Roman grimaces at the non answer. "How many of our territories have we lost?" When his uncle didn't respond, he presses. "A lot? Father wouldn't listen to anyone til he had to." His voice rose by the end, not aware of his breathing increasing. Then he recalled who he essentially yelled at.

Damask kept a neutral stare on him, calculating. Roman felt a need to look away, but thankfully the moment is interrupted.

Knock Knock.

Roman flinches at the sound, whipping his head to the entrance. "Come in!" His uncle calls. The hinges swung as the barrier whirled open. The action was somehow... upbeat. Mismatched to the mood as peppy steps echoed.

Reflective white dress shoes step inside, a white pristine suit adorned him. The man wasn't tall... and was bloated like a whale. His clean shaven face held the brightest of wide smiles, shining white teeth. His swept golden hair, buzzed on the sides, had three black horizontal streaks across the front left locks.

However, his eyes...

His eyes were void, no intoned light to match the lively nature of the rest of him. His square rim glasses did little to add to the eerie violet tone drained orbs. "One thousand seven hundred thirty three mile flight, yet it goes by in an instant from the anticipation of meeting a friend." His grin was almost ear to ear as he marches by Roman, utterly disregarding him. "It's been a while, my friend."

Damask accepts a handshake with the man, smiling. Though, not nearly as much as the stranger. "When you fly first class only, one could circle the globe and time would fly. I thank you for meeting on short notice, though. I do hope the... kids are behaving." The edge shifted in his tone... Roman couldn't tell what set him wrong hearing it.

"Oh, the children are rambunctious as ever. Adorable little things are growing prosperous." The new man cheerfully responded as he sits in the seat across from the desk. Again, he's yet to give Roman a single glance.

Sensing this, his uncle glances to Roman. "My aren't they." Was that... sarcasm? "Roman, boy, this is the friend I spoke so highly of before. Meet Aline Zandril." Roman took the side profile of the fat man in. THIS was the powerful ally? "He has agreed to manage and maintain the family's extended territories for the next year while we recuperate from your father's passing. Unless, you've reconsidered, friend?"

The... ever slight nervous chuckle as his uncle finishes froze the boy rigid.

Never. Not once in his entire life had he ever, EVER heard the person behind that desk show even the slightest nerve. The ever microscopic sense of fear. Anger? Most certainly. But this...

Aline chuckles jovially. "Oh, I would never turn from a deal after coming so far out of my way." His chuckle trilled up, lighter. "So long as the other side is honored." Finally, his eyes flick from his uncle to Roman himself. "Ah... is this he?"

"Indeed." Damask states as Aline looks the boy up and down. The stare was starting to get creepy.

Roman's face pulls to a scowl, a small shift in his stance. "Sir... I'm not a cookie."

The fat joke elicits a chilling glare from his uncle... and a MIGHTY laugh from the rotund man. "Ah. A spirit in this one. His aura is unlocked, and he's already armed. Some playful cattiness is a bonus from time to time." He hums a sing song laugh.

"So... he covers your expenses, then?" Damask says low.

What?

"Oh, absolutely, my friend." Zandril happily chirps. "This young, I can only be enamored by the possibilities."

"What are you talking about?" Roman lightly squeaks out.

Click.

Roman turns around, seeing two unknown men in suits shutting and locking the door. Both are glaring down at the boy. "Roman." His uncle calls his attention. "Clean yourself up and get ready. You'll be accompanying Mr Zandril from now on."

His eyes widened as he looks between his uncle and the strange man. "Wait, why? Explain-"

"You will not longer hold any connection to this family." Damask cuts him off, the words hitting like a punch in the gut. "Far as this family is concerned, you are stripped of your title and worth. From this day forth, you belong to Aline Zandril in exchange for his services."

So many emotions processed simultaneously. Shock foremost, but as that gave way? Fear of what's happening. Anxiety from sudden change. But the worst? The absolute worst? The absolute bursting bubble of anger.

Roman, child or not, turns at his uncle, shouting. "You can't do that! I'm next in line to lead this family! You can't-" Hands grab him by the shoulders, his eyes nearly bulging out as he's pulled by the two men who locked the room. They had been shutting him in! He thrashes. "Get off me! GET OFF!"

Damask watches him with no change, a cold stare meeting him. "You're only next in line because your traitorous sister slaughtered your father in cold blood. The most proud feeling I've ever gotten from her." Then, the man smirks at the boy. "And now, her brat brother will buy over our troubles. Now, we'll take that relic back."

One of the men grabs Velvet Valentine in Roman's grip, and that was it. Roman needed something. ANYTHING to keep him grounded. His grip on the cane tightened as he wrapped it. "No! It's mine! It's not yours to give away!"

The man growls. "Take it from him by force. That weapon belongs to us-"

"Let him keep it." Zandril sounds out, amused. Damask sends a cold glare at the man, but it's ignored. Zandril turns from Damask, smiling ear to ear. The light from the window shines off his glasses, obscuring his eyes completely.

"It's not part of the deal." Damask warns, though his tone is hesitant, a slight pause between forming the response and verbalizing it.

Another melodic laugh. Roman stares back at the man wide eyed. "Oh definitions can be a bothersome thing, don't you think? By such strict meaning, we should strip the boy from his very clothes. No, such a trinket is part of his person." The man's face turns to Damask, glasses still reflecting light, as if the rest of his visage darkens to the eye. "It shows a guarantee of quality of purchase, after all. Or, are you trying to swindle me?"

An open challenge, Roman would realize, recalling this event for years to come. This single comment cementing the leverage of power. Damask was given the option to bargain over a relic... and risk losing the deal entirely when its whole purpose was as a desperate move for control. To deny the strange man would be to endanger the family's existence.

So, his only comment was an appeal... "You never allow the children to have personal possessions."

"I also never am the one doing the purchasing." Zandril states before his smile grows, showing brilliant white teeth. "Today is full of exceptions."

Roman continued to struggle against the grips of the two henchmen, unable to escape from them. The silence lasts the better part of a minute before his uncle sighs. "Very well. Take the boy away."

Roman is jerked back from the two men, his last sight in the room being the brilliant smile of the fat man. "NO!"

. . .

The conman flinches awake. His eyes see pure black darkness, so he takes a deep breath... then actually removes his hat from over his eyes. The view above is filled with an off dark blue and infested with stars. The moon shows as well, chunks flowing with it as always.

He groans. If he dies today, that's such a shit dream to go out on.

Still, given the light, he has a few hours to prepare. So, he checks his scroll. No messages or missed calls from Silver Streak. Good. He finally got the message to leave it.

Hmm.

He shakes his head and decides to leave it. David will be waiting for him, and he should be there in a few hours. Preparation is key. Fortunately... he had an idea for how to proceed.

. . .

Hours passed, and the sun had begun poking its pesky head over the horizon. David stands at his camp. The abandoned Atlas mining facility mostly shrouded under the shadow of the main white tower blocking the star's light.

"We got one incoming!" One of the bandits shouts out. David smirks, sending a look to the men at the main entrance. He nods. Receiving a nod back, the large musclebound doormen part ways as the dirt road meets the concrete foundation of the compound.

And entering through is Roman, strutting through with a smirk on his face. David chuckles. "So, you actually showed up, eh Ro?" Wasting no time, he looks to his men, nodding. "Anything you want to say before we get to business?"

Still smirking, Roman huffs. "Hmph." He shakes his head.

David's stare narrows, annoyed. So... mind games? When the talker shows up intentionally not talking, it's a warning sign. Especially with a smirk like that. Still, David smiles back. This was going to be fun. He holds up his transform weapons, in pistol form. "In the original Arbitration, my uncle showed me a room full of weapons, you see. I could have gone with flintlock pistols, switch blade knives, but something about the personal nature of brass knuckles grabbed me."

He presents his weapons for focus. "Unfortunately, no brass knuckles available, but trench knives ARE part knuckle guard, so my personal weapons will do for this. And you're in luck, cause I have two." In one move, he ejects the magazines from both guns, then fires the rounds in the chambers to clear them simultaneously. "There." He shifts and lets the gun barrels slight into the grip, pushing out the blades. "No shots. No guns. Just up close... and personal."

He offers one of the knives to Roman, who raises a brow and nods. The conman accepts the weapon, leaving both men with one trench knife. This is followed by a bandit stepping up from the side. "Only the knife is allowed." The crony speaks up, arms out. The gesture is towards Velvet Valentine in hand.

Roman scowls, sparing a glance at David, who smirks. Well... best to go along with it. Roman relinquishes the cane-

"And jackets. Only things allowed are the individual weapon, shirt, shoes, pants. We'll be frisking you to check for additional hidden items." The crony continues, earning a glare from Roman.

David speaks up. "You can watch them check me as well, obviously." His cousin smirks cocky. "If I needed to cheat, I could just kill you now with my boys."

Roman snorts, then nods. David removes his vest, handing it off. He's left in his dark leather pants, a plain white skin tight shirt, boots, and his leather fingerless gloves. The only true vibrant color are the dark red tip fringes of his slicked back hair and his green eyes.

Roman allows his own jacket to be taken, along with his cane. He's left in his black pants, black gloves, black shoes, white undershirt, and his red ascot. After checking his hat, they allowed him to take the topper back. Both men hold their respective trench knives in their right hand.

David turns to Roman. "So. Location?"

Wordlessly, Roman points his knife towards the main Atlas facility tower. David follows the gesture, smirking. "I see... Alright, boys. No matter what happens out here, no matter what noises sound out, no one goes in until either of us steps out or a suspicious amount of time passes."

"Sir!" A number of the bandits call out. ALL of them smirking and snickering at the conman's expense.

Still, David and Roman walk towards the tower. "So... any last words? Last chance." David tries again. To his annoyance, Roman smirks and mimes a zipper to his mouth. The man is about to grumble, but suppresses it. He won't let little Roman take his fun away from him.

. . .

The inner workings of the tower was actually quite different from what Roman had initially believed. He'd heard many of the older Atlas facility structures looked far more grand than their looks on the outside. Sure, this tower held a high top floor overhead, but that was primarily to facilitate the dish for continental communication via the CCT. The ceiling and roof were clear, allowing daylight to dully illuminate the tower.

The tower itself also dug into the mountain itself, providing a place for the smelting and refining of many of the ores. The gasses produced from which would be aired out through air jet shafts out the other side of the tower facing away from the remainder of the compound. This left the middle of the tower to serve a supportive purpose to both resources. Power.

A complex system of cogs and machinery of gigantic size layering almost like platforms that climb up through the tower. If working, they parts are constructed to create energy, like charging a battery with a treadmill. The pieces were constructed of a synthetic allow that held electrical charges easier, thus allowing a machine that runs off power capable of producing more energy than it drained.

In other words, perpetual energy generators.

Although, given the cumbersome design and sheer size that such generators needed, along with severe maintenance labor as the connecting mechanisms were delicate, and one could see why they would slowly stop making them. Still, this was Roman's first time seeing one up close.

And it was not in working order. Atlas left much of their materials here, but they made sure to take some key components from this one. Now, the gigantic cog platforms and stations lie still, rusted still and stripped. A crying shame.

A giant ceiling spanning fan gently rotates still, not from any power, but the blowing winds breaking in reverse through the ventilation shafts up the length of the tower.

Still, it was up the metal scaffold stairs up the platforms the men went, eventually finding themselves upon a circular area with a guard rail. The center of the floor around them was a pillar that connected to the cogs above.

The light from the clear ceiling far above also absorbs oddly into the material, as the tower seemed to... completely drain of color. The shadows shift with the movement of the gigantic fan above. Everything, EVERYTHING was black and white. Even the two men's skin. The only color showing in the entire environment were the men's green eyes, Roman's red ascot, the red stripe of his bowler hat, and the orange and red fringes of their hair.

Each and every foot step echoed loudly through the entire dead tower.

Stepping into the open area, Roman ceases walking as David progresses ten moves steps. His cousin turns around, smiling. "This should do." Roman glances around, then back to the bandit leader. He nods. The man had to laugh. "You're doing everything you can to take the fun out, you know... but I'm gonna get a scream out of you before this is over."

He glances over to a set of wipes connecting taut to a machine on the next platform. David marches over before gesturing. "We start with our backs turned. I'll hear if you try and cheap shot." Then to the wires. "I'll cut all but one of these wires holding that console over there up. The last'll snap after a moment. The second that console snaps off and falls... we begin. Agreed?"

Roman eyes the console hanging off the other platform and smirks. Glancing back to David, he pauses a moment. Then...

He nods.

David huffs, finally frowning at the silent treatment. Irritation finally starts to set in... and he cuts all but one wire in one motion. The wire stretches as the console on the other platform protests tight.

Only a matter of time before it snaps... David walks past Roman and stops. Roman smirks, raising his off hand and tapping the man's back without looking. It shows clearly that David has an inch or two of height. Without the jacket or vest, Roman was also leaner. Athletic as opposed to body builder type.

Then, Roman side steps and leans back. His back roughly bumps into David's as Roman leans and crosses one foot over the other. The picture of relaxation as Roman closes his eyes and crosses his arms.

And with his eyes shut, his mind thinks back, unbidden...

. . .

He just has to wait for her. Just wait for her. That's all he has to do.

Little Roman, now 6 years old, sits in the back of a transport truck, seated and surrounded by dozens of other children. All of them were tied by chains as they moved.

Just... wait for her. Summer will come back. She promised.

Just hold on. She'll be here any moment.

And Roman is now 7 years old... standing over a boy in his teens whining over the broken knee. A limb collapsed when Roman smashed Velvet Valentine into it. He'd even said the fight would be hand to hand.

But he lied.

And that's okay. He just needed to survive until Summer found him.

And he cheated, like when he showed up to the Johnson with another child's mission prize. The girl was punished with no food... but Roman was fed double, allowing the first FULL stomach he'd had in months.

He cheated.

And that's okay. He can be kinder when Summer breaks him out from here.

As the boy, seven and a half years old, escapes from the dust shop with a bag stuffed with store wares. He rushes around the next corner, hiding low as the store owners and a cop rush by. Little tiny Roman glances around, checking corners, then rushes off to turn in his hoard for the Johnson.

He stole.

And that's okay... because he survived.

He survived to eight years old, sitting in a comfortable waiting room. The children here were the best of the best. All with bright futures once sold. These children held high worth as Roman cleans Velvet, now wearing fitted clothes.

The television sounds off on a news report. "-Where Grimm were rampaging in the South. However, up and coming hunters in training were dispatched and dealt with the horde in its entirety."

A stream of B-roll footage began to play, showing some blonde boy with an armored fist smashing an Ursa in the face. Then some raven haired teen woman with red eyes and a red sword to match slicing and dicing a pack of beowolves.

The teen girl was striking as she uses a strange power, opening a bloody mist across two locations, the boy passing through one to come to her. He then lights up, his hair almost on fire as his next punch tears the next Grimm, a Boarbatusk, apart.

"These now second year students are showing such promise, they already have job postings for them from Vacuo and, get this, ATLAS of all places. And who are these young blessed heroes? None other than the quick to fame Team STRQ!"

Heroes...

The first face shot on screen was a grumpy looking boy with red eyes and a scythe. "18 year old Qrow Branwen." Then next is the girl from before, frowning unhappily. "18 year old Raven Branwen, his twin sister." Then the blonde with a doofus smile. "18 year old Taiyang Xiao Long." And finally... a painfully familiar girl with dark hair fading into red tinged locks. Her silver eyes pained Roman to his core. Even more so was her radiant smile. "And their fearless leader, Summer Rose-"

CRASH!

A thrown glass smashes into the televisions screen, cutting off the sniveling feel good broadcast.

Except he didn't feel good in the slightest.

A look of pure smoldering rage meets any of the other onlooking children in the room. An eight year old Roman sneers at the screen before huffing and sitting back.

He survived.

And that's okay. She can live whatever HEROES life she wants.

Because he will be here.

He will lie... cheat... steal...

And survive.

. . .

The air silently shifts, the only sound to the men being the fan swinging above. Roman's eye cracks open, side glancing over his shoulder. The black and white atmosphere broken only by his hair, ascot, and eyes. (Techno beat begins soft and slow, building before dropping the beat.)

He remains relaxed, leaning into his cousin's back with his head slightly tilted down. He could feel each shift in his opponent. David breaths in, the chest expansion pressing Roman lightly. (Soft techno melody with no beat."Nah, you don't know me. Lightning above and a fire below me.")

His hand fiddles with the knife. The knuckle guards shielding his fingers come with the drawback of restraining complex movement. Somewhat, as he can loosely remove his fingers and twist the knife to a reverse grip and back. ("You can not catch me, can not hold me. You can not stop, much less control me.")

He settles for a standard grip, looping his fingers in the knuckles and gripping tightly. Satisfied, he waits. ("When it rains, it pours. When the floodgates open, brace your shores.")

David eyes the wire. The cable stretched painfully holding the console on the opposite platform up. Its outer layer begins to rip, exposing the copper underneath. ("That pressure don't care, it breaks your doors. Say it's all you can take, better take some more.")

David rolls his head right, then left. Bone pops sound with each of the movements, catching Roman's attention behind him. Must be close. The wire rips, only frayed copper. (Beat comes back and begins building."'Cause I know what it's like to test fate. Had my shoulders pressed with that weight. Stood up strong in spite of that hate.")

SNAP! The wire releases the console. The machinery dead drops four stories of tower length to the floor... David tenses, and Roman knows it's coming. ("The night gets darkest right before dawn. What don't kill you makes you more strong, and I've been waiting for it so long." Beat builds into first chorus.)

CRASH! The console smashes into the ground floor.

Begin. David bursts in a spin, right arm slashing wide. Roman, who had been leaned against him, drops to a spinning crouch. His hat whips off from the movement, and David's knife slashes off a lock of hair. Roman, crouched low, spins with his own slash, which David jerks his leg back to dodge. ("The nights go on. Waiting for a light that never comes.")

David's footing shifting, Roman kicks to his feet and forward, slashing. The larger man deflects the slashes, recovering his footing. Locking blades, David presses forward and grabs Roman's knife hand with his off hand. ("I chase the sun. Waiting for a light that never comes.")

Eyes wide, Roman jerks down and back, grabbing David's knife hand with his own off hand. Kicking one foot up, he rolls back and pulls David into a toss. David is launched over as both release the other. ("Ohohoh... Ohohoh...")

Both men hit the ground and roll up, Roman a step ahead as he running knee's David as he stands. David whips away from Roman from the blow. Roman goes to stab him in the back. ("Ohohoh... Waiting for a light that never comes!")

Taking a page from Roman, David drops, the knife jab gashing his right shoulder as it passes his head. His arm already reaches up, snatching Roman's weapon arm again and pulling. He stands up and pulls Roman into a shoulder toss, slamming the conman into the grated platform flooring. (Music bridges into next verse.)

Above Roman, David drops and binds Roman's knife arm, seeking to disarm him with a hold. Roman twisting and bashing his knee into David's face. The mobster holds on, gritting his teeth in anger. ("When I was young, they told me, they said, 'make your bed, you lie in that bed!'")

David wrenches up, pulling Roman up from the ground from the hold on his arm, and slams him back down, getting a pained growl from the conman. ("A King can only rein 'till instead. There comes that day, it's off with his head!")

David jerks Roman's arm, forcing the conman's grip off. Roman releases the trench knife as it slides on the railing and off the platform to the floors below. ("The night gets darkest right before dawn! What don't kill you makes you more strong!")

Opponent disarmed, the brunette takes his knife and plunges it into Roman's thigh, clashing before smashing through Roman's aura. ("You'll have my mercy, then when you're gone!")

Finally, Roman lets out a pained wail. "AH!" He snaps his teeth shut, glaring before using his free arm to jab a pressure point. David winces, arm twitching. Roman tucks and rolls the two, pinning David under him. ("The nights go on. Waiting for a light that never comes.")

Roman strikes him twice in a mount before rolling off, not daring to give David a chance to reverse again. The knife in his thigh remains as he grits in pain. He stands with his weight on his other leg. ("I chase the sun. Waiting for a light that never comes.")

As David scrambles to his feet, Roman grips the knife embedded in him, ripping it out. He groans, but gets the weapon in a reverse grip. ("Ohohoh... Ohohoh...")

David barely gets to a knee before Roman haphazardly jolts forward, smashing the knuckle guards of the knife into the man's chiseled jaw. The man's aura deflects the blade as it glances off his cheek. ("Ohohoh... Waiting for a light that never comes!" beat drops for verse.)

Before David can fall back, Roman's off hand snatches the man's head by the hair. Pulling him back in, making sure to keep David's balance off, it's Roman's turn to plunge the knife. This time, right down behind David's right shoulder blade. ("And I told them, nah you don't know me! Lightning above and a fire below me.")

David shouts in pain. Roman, one hand on the embedded knife and other on the man's head, pulls the man in. Balanced on one foot, Roman bashes David in the face with his left knee, ignoring the protesting knife injury in the thigh. ("You can not catch me, can not hold me. You can not stop, much less control me!")

He keeps the grip, bashing David once more. On the attempt for the third, David wraps his arms around the injured leg. He rises, lifting Roman's other foot from the ground. ("When it rains, it pours. When the floodgates open, brace your shores!")

The powerhouse man stumbles left, slamming Roman spine first into the guard rails of the platform. The bars bend and collapse, Roman falling to the ground in front of it. David stumbles back, reaching for the knife, but the reach brings a burning pain. ("That pressure don't care, it breaks your doors. Say it's all you can take, better take some more!")

Roman pulls himself to his feet, arms steadied on the broken guard rails, slowly. As he steadies himself, he stumbles, catching himself with both hands as he glares at his cousin. (Beat begins building. "Take some more... take some more... take some more... take some more...")

David groans out a breath, unable to remove the blade, so he doesn't. He manages to slowly stand up. He psyches himself up, breathing in and out with seething anger. ("Take some more... take some more... take some more... take some more...")

"COME ON!" David charges forward. Roman tries to block as David spear tackles him in the abdomen. The two men barrel through the guard rail, off the platform entirely into a fall! (Beat builds into chorus beat "Ohohoh... Waiting for a light that never comes!")

The fall, Roman grabs the knife, ripping it out of the man. However, before he can impale his cousin again, the two of the land, HARD, on one of the massive cogs. They roll aside, still tangled as they land on a nearby scaffold. ("Ohohoh... Ohohoh...")

The scaffold breaks, finally the two falling apart as both hit the bottom floor at an angle and roll! Roman's grip on the knife slips, the weapon rattling away from him. ("Ohohoh... Waiting for a light that never comes!")

Both men lay, both writhing in pain. Roman scrambles, his left leg hindering him as he crawls for the knife. ("The nights go on. Waiting for a light that never comes.")

David pushes up, but falls to all fours. He spots the man approaching the weapon, snarling like an animal as he forces himself up into a run. ("I chase the sun. Waiting for a light that never comes.")

Roman reaches for the knife, barely grabbing hold before his cousin full sprint punts the downed man in the side. The kick throws Roman several feet, rolling. David wheezes a breath before collapsing forward to get on top of the conman. ("Ohohoh... Ohohoh...")

Roman grits his teeth as he's pulled over, only his back. He punches up, striking David in the throat, getting a cough. He tries to aim to stab with the knife. ("Ohohoh... Waiting for a light that never comes!")

David full mounts Roman, grabbing Roman's hand by the wrist and pinning it down. The two cousins glare into each other's eyes, snarling. ("Ohohoh... Ohohoh...")

Gleefully, David shifts his arm over Roman's, keeping the knife aside just enough to be unable to stab him. His hands then both grab Roman's neck, causing the man's eyes to bulge. David's lips pull into a sadistic smile. ("Ohohoh... Waiting for a light that never comes!")

Roman's free hand punches David's side, then tries to pry the man's hands off his throat, but to no avail. David cackles. "What's wrong?! SAY SOMETHING!" He demands. ("The nights go on. Waiting for a light that never comes.")

His throat burns with pressure, watching his cousin take glee in strangling him. Roman shifts his grip on the knife... and transforms it to gun form. The chamber slides open, showing the weapon is empty. ("I chase the sun. Waiting for a light that never comes.")

"You got nothing, Ro! Now, squeal. And. Die-" His voice catches, as he notices Roman's closed mouth working. ("Ohohoh... Ohohoh...")

Despite his face coloring, Roman finally, FINALLY, opens his mouth... showing a single dust bullet inside. "Pew!" He spits the bullet out, directly into the handgun chamber... then aims the chamber directly at David's neck. ("Ohohoh... Waiting for a light that never comes!")

BOOM! (Music fades out.)

The gunshot rings out in the entire tower... as the shot blows through David's throat and out the other side of the neck. The man's form jolts, tenses, and freezes. The look of shock on the man's face as his blood drips from his throat onto Roman's chest.

David finally withdraws his hands from the conman's throat as he slips and collapses to the side. Uselessly, his hands paw at the hole in his esophagus. Roman lays beside him and wheezes his breathes, mouth wide open gasping for air for the first time since he'd arrived.

As he takes his breath, he turns his head to look at David's wide, fearful eyes. He finally speaks. "Last words?" He mocks, remaining deathly serious as he transforms the pistol back into its knife mode. His voice is rasping and hoarse. "Ha... ha."

He reverses his grip on the knife and plunges it into David's temple. David Rose's eyes widen in split shock... "G...khhh." A gurgling whisper of air escapes from the frozen expression.

Agonizingly slow, Roman sits up, letting out a pained yell in protest... His left leg drips in red soaking his black, and his white shirt now drenched in red from the chest to his right shoulder that had laid in the growing pool of blood beside him. Roman spares a look at the man, still gasping for air.

"Was it all you ever wanted?" He asks rhetorically... knowing that the knife in his cousin's head meant the man was dead.

He supposes he should have felt something akin to hurt here. If he was honest... no. That empathy well had dried up a decade ago in regards to his family. He takes in another breath before trying to pulling himself to stand.

Adrenaline wearing off, Roman's left thigh screams in pain from its wound. He groans as he manages to stand. Glancing around, he manages to spot a spark of reflecting light nearby... the other trench knife.

Well, a decade serving a mob instills certain instincts... as Roman turns back to David's corpse, leaning over with all his weight on his right foot, he grabs the embedded knife and rips it free. He takes the time to wipe its blade on David's shirt, rather than his own, free of the red marring its features.

Roman then hobbles painfully towards the second, picking it up. Both weapons in hand, he keeps a hold on them. It's still possible he'll have to fight his way out. Hesitantly, he slowly hobbles his way towards the exit, using the walls to support him.

The long, slow trip brings his thoughts back to him. Was that all you could ever dream of, Summer?

His heart clenches in thought as he grimaces. Not a single part of him ached over what he just did, yet... part of him could picture exactly the pained look that noble naive wench would give him.

"Hmph." It doesn't matter. Doesn't matter if he smuggled a bullet in his mouth to cheat.

He survived, and he will do so without Summer. No one was ever going to come for him. No one else was ever going to have his back in the end. He has to do this all himself-

Gunshots.

More shots muffled by the grand walls of the tower. His eyes widen.

Seems like someone's having fun outside. He needs to move. He limps towards the tower's metal doors. Getting to it, he reaches for the handle to push-

CREAK! The door slams open, just BARELY missing the man's nose. What didn't miss was the teen just a few inches shorter than Roman barreling into his gut. Roman shouts out in pain! The only thing keeping him from falling is the reaction of the teen. Carmine stops and looks up in shock at Roman.

"..." Roman stares in shock.

Carmine gasps, out of breath and covered in scuff marks all over. Scorch marks and cuts litter him, Heulin Noon in his left hand, still smoking. Breathing heavy, he gathers himself. "Oh... Hi, Roman- ROMAN! We gotta... get..."

Two things simultaneously. Carmine looks past Roman and sees, in the distance, David's body. Meanwhile, Roman looks behind Carmine, spotting the open compound looking like a war zone. Several of David's men charge around from their cover, guns up to fire...

Then the men see Roman. They all stop as shocked gazes wash over them. The shock of seeing the conman and not their leader stayed their fire as the men all look on. Horror passes over the large brutes from the main gate as they approach as well. Carmine's gaze was still on the inside carnage while Roman gathers the cause of the outside carnage.

The brat... still showed up.

Raising a hand, Roman speaks loudly in a rather conversational tone. "Alright boys... this one's with me. Stand down."

Carmine blinks. "You..." He then takes in the conman's form. Flinching, the teen pulls Roman's arm over his shoulder for support and aims his gun back out to the compound as the bandits all march forward. An entire firing line of men aim at the two.

Still just... standing surprised and looking at the teen, Roman finally fully recovers and smirks at the men. "Surprise! I'll take my possessions back, thank you." As the men slowly shift and lower their weapons, Roman looks at the teen. "Lower your piece, Silver Streak."

"I'm supposed to believe they'll stand down?!" Carmine whisper screams.

"Please?" Roman mutters, exasperates. The boy reluctantly lowers his weapon. Simultaneously, the CRBN members shift to lean against the wall as several of the bandits file into the tower past the two. Carmine follows their movements, wary. Roman, however, kept his gaze on those still ready to fire. "So. Match is over. May I have my jacket and cane back please?"

The men hold until one of the scruffy men inside exits. The sneering grimace remains as he glares daggers at the conman... He finally looks to the others and nods.

Hurt and shocked looks flash as they look astounded at Roman, who smirks. "I'm waiting." One of the flunkies sneers before producing Roman's jacket and Velvet Valentine. He hands it to Roman as the conman smirks. "And would one of you be a dear and fetch my hat inside?"

Carmine could only stare dumbfounded at his conduct, seeing fury come over the men around him... Yet, they did as asked...

. . .

The sun beats down upon the two, as they now approach in the jeep Roman had commandeered. Roman limps, using his cane to support his weight himself. Roman had almost taken the driver seat, only for a stern glare from Carmine, who points to the passenger side. Roman raises a brow, doubtful as he grips the jeep door handle.

Pulling the door open, Carmine kicks the door shut, meeting Roman's dull stare. The boy then points to the passenger side again.

Roman rolls his eyes before limping around the vehicle and finally climbing into the passenger seat. Carmine gets into the driver seat, taking a deep breath as he prepares to drive. He blanks in the seat for a moment, then remembers to look at Roman.

The conman sends a 'really?' look at him and flicks his keys at the boy. Carmine fumbles the catch, but saves in the end. He scowls at Roman before inserting the keys. The engine revs as Carmine nervously places his hands at ten and two.

Roman sighs, relaxing his pained leg.

"How is it?" Carmine asks softly. The two had yet to speak since leaving the compound.

"Just letting the aura healing do its thing." Roman lets out softly. "Told you I could handle things myself." He smirks, but the expression dies as he side eyes the boy. Carmine is frowning ahead as he gingerly presses the gas.

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should." The boy mutters, then flinches. "Oh, god, I'm sounding like Blair."

Roman smirks. "A horrifying thought. Be like Neo instead."

"A pathological thief?"

"Mute."

Carmine snorts. "That's so wrong."

Silence fell over the two, the boy careful and deliberate in his driving on the muddy dirt roads. Carmine jolts a few times, jerking the wheel a few times with his inexperience driving. Each time, Roman almost snaps a usual quip, but stops himself. He then settles for glaring out the window.

"Thanks."

Carmine blinks, almost looking at Roman, but doubling his focus on the road. Did... he hear that right? "What?"

Roman cringes before huffing. "Thanks for showing up." He leans back into his seat, closing his eyes. "There. That's all you get."

The boy slows the vehicle to a stop, looking full on at the man. A part of him wanted to boast, LOUDLY, at that. A large smile forms, but a thought occurs. He quells the bubbling excitement to start softly. "About Summer-" Roman snaps a stare at him, making him suck in another breath. "I... I don't know how she failed you. I can't change your mind about her if I don't know what she did... but I won't pry unless you offer it."

Roman raises a brow. He nods for Carmine to continue.

"I think the world of her... obviously. She, and you, both played a large part of me making it to Beacon. But, I won't fight you about her if you won't." He waits a moment as they let the words process. "But... I promise that what she did wrong, I won't do... we're friends, and I won't leave you behind." He then glares. "EVEN if you can handle it yourself."

The conman snorts, but settles. He wanted to snap, but stops himself. Because that IS one thing. Carmine did show up. He... came back. Somber, Roman looks off. "Deal... I suppose being a team player isn't gonna be the death of me." He then jabs a finger at the boy as he leans back. "Barbie and Neo don't need to know about my family, though."

However, Carmine just beams back a bright insufferable smile.

"... What?" Roman starts, irritable.

"You didn't contest us being friends." Carmine points out. Roman's eyes shoot wide as he opens his mouth, but Carmine beats him to it. "Noooo, nope! You can't take it back now!"

Roman slumps back, rolling his eyes. "Ugh, kill me."

Carmine grimaces. "Sorry, I'm not your family." The morbid comment sobers him, despite the dark humor as Carmine spares a glance at the twin pistols in Roman's lap. "So... it was that simple, huh?"

Sensing the topic, Roman snorts. "It's never that easy unless you finally cross that line to sociopath." He sighs. "But, no different than any other path to survival. When against an enemy, its you or them."

The boy hums before continuing the drive. "So, what are you gonna do with those?"

"Sell one for a high price, deconstruct the other for spare parts. You and Barbie can use the high end material and dust connections." The conman drawls.

"... I did have a new weapon combination to ask Blair to help me with." Carmine thinks to himself. "Yeah... maybe I can integrate it- DAMNIT!" He shouts and beats his forehead into the wheel, causing Roman to jolt in alarm.

"What?!"

"We didn't get any information on AZRL! Fuck!" Carmine seethes before groaning and settling back as he continues the drive.

Roman barks a laugh. "Oh, is that all? I got that."

The boy double takes. "Wait- For real?"

The conman snickers. "What would you do without me?" He lets the mirth fade lightly. "But Zann told me enough to go off of before David taco'd his head." Before letting the boy react negatively to the dead, Roman speaks further. "First, lets get home and sleep this all off like a bad hangover."

Carmine breathes a sigh of relief, letting himself relax. "We gonna sell this jeep off, too?"

"Just drive behind me once we get to the van." Roman lays back. "I know a guy."

"Of course you do..."

. . .

Back in Oja Terrace, mid day, Neo and Blair stand with Joseph, receiving Lien from the bearded man. "Thank you so much, ladies! I'll let Kale know you cleared out that den. Cuts off days of travel costs." The man grins widely for the two. "At this rate, we'll have all our problems solved for months."

Blair nods gracefully. "We do our best. It wouldn't do for us to simply wait for our other members to return."

Neo grins widely and signs with one hand. 'Plus, watching Blair dominate the creepers was fun."

Blair hums at that, not bothering to go into Neo pranking her by alerting the creeper den. Neo laughed as The blonde decimated the nest inside a nearby cave. Granted, Blair got her revenge in advance by stating the two would be sparring after completing the mission. The horror on the girl's face was cute.

"Just be sure to let us know if anything else needs done-" Her amber eyes flick past the man. She tilts to look around him. "Sooner rather than later. I believe we are about to be off."

The three watch as the CRBN van roars into the town, coming to a stop on the dirt road by the three. An ugly rust brown jeep comes to a stop behind it. Dangerously close to hitting the van. To their shock, it's Carmine who gets out of the jeep.

Neo zips around the vehicles, coming to a stop and taking in Carmine's state. He rubs his sore neck, looking like he hadn't slept. The girl blinks at him as he chuckles. "Yeah, yeah. I look like crap. Roman's worse." Neo gazes back to find a bloodied Roman step out of the van, grimacing as Blair rounds to him.

The blonde takes him in and raises a brow. "Just what happened to you? Mauled by a Lion?"

"A bear and a tiger actually." Roman retorts without missing a beat. He winces as Blair grabs him by the arm, helping to support him. "Wouldn't mind nurse Barbie right about now."

In medical mode, Blair forces the man to sit on a nearby porch of one of the houses. "Get off that leg!" She kneels in front of him. "If this is what happens when we leave you off on your own, I object to any further solo missions."

Roman could only snark back with a laugh. "Oh, please. This was the best case scenario before I left." She sends a scathing glare back. This earns a wider grin, but he does mime a zipper over his lips. The blonde merely raises a brow before looking over his half healed wound.

She could tell his disposition was friendlier than when he left. Much as she would love to ask, she asks simply. "So, did we acquire the information?" When nothing answers her, she looks up to see Roman still with his mouth 'zipped'. She flares up. "Oh, for the love of- be mature!"

Satisfied with having screwed with her, the conman sighs happily. "Yes, Vincent. We happy." She didn't want to ask what he was referencing there, so she let it slide waiting for clarity. "We take our pick. We can either investigate the island of Patch or meander through the ruins of Mountain Glenn."

Carmine speaks up from there, ignoring Neo poking his bruises like a pest. "We take Mountain Glenn first. From what-" He winces, but ignores another poke from Neo. "- Roman told me, that's most likely to- ngh!" Another wince as Neo smirks jabbing his shoulder. "To be a full blown base- Ngh-" He flaps his arms, slapping the girl's prodding limbs away. "Stop it!" He fumes as she snickers at him.

Blair groans. "Very well... Shall we return home and recover before moving on? This wound, even with aura healing, should definitely be stitched and properly left to heal."

"Yes." Carmine cuts in as Roman shrugs. "We also got a weapon to disassemble. Blair, I got a new idea for my armor, if you can help?"

The blonde blinks in surprise, and as she engages the boy in the topic, Roman rolls his eyes before noticing Neo now in front of him. He raises a brow. She's frowning. Why is she frowning? She glances over her shoulder at the other two before looking back and raising a thumbs up.

Ah... she doesn't know Silver Streak got more inside knowledge than her. Asking if he settled things, perhaps. Roman gives a curt nod, then raises his own thumbs up. Neo smiles lightly, changing the hand to a high five gesture. Reluctantly, Roman reciprocates.

The two high five... and Roman's hand comes away with one of Neo's thin gold bracelets. He smirks at her, the girl double taking at her wrist before glaring.

SHATTER.

Roman's hat falls apart and disappears, leaving the conman without. He blinks, glancing upwards before noticing his hat now in Neo's hands. The girl sends a smug look and flips the hat onto her head. Of course, it's slightly too big, nearly engulfing her brow entirely.

Roman's turn to scowl, he huffs and holds his hand out, offering the bracelet for his hat back. However, Neo smirks and turns her nose up. Huffing, the man rolls his eyes. "While it looks good on you, I think I want it back."

Neo brightens with an eye flutter, beaming a smile back before returning the hat. She snatches her bracelet back after, then moves to continue pestering Carmine.

All this leaves the conman with an odd thought.

Maybe just one more time. One more time, he can put stock in someone else.

. . .

Years Ago

The large ornate gardens were found unkempt. The vast, colorful fields were grown over with weed and shrub growth. The pest grasses settling in. Even the dirt roads had started to grow over in parts. A testament to the passage of time on disuse.

The roads led to the same white manor. In spite of time's passage, it was still nearly pristine. Only small green stains of moss latching onto the sides of the first floor. On its door is the emblem of the Wilted Rose family. A perfectly healthy rose, its back wilting and fading away in the background.

BANG! The door breaks off its frame, swinging on the hinges as the teen girl comes to a halt outside the manor. Her hair was shoulder length, barely meeting the white and red hood of her cloak. Her silver eyes darts back and forth. She wears a brassier of leather over white, the leather like armor. In her hands was a transform weapon in the form of a naginata. Ivor Hallow.

Summer Rose glares around her, tears straining her eyes before screaming out. "COME OUT!" The girl breathes heavily, almost seething when a boy comes out from the manor after her, slowly.

He wears black pants, a gray button up jacket with the top undone to see a white undershirt. Black spiky locks nearly reach his brow. His face was angular, with red eyes peering at Summer. In his hands was a scythe with jagged edges. "Summer... they're gone. No one is here."

She shakes her head violently. "No! That's not-... It is NOT POSSIBLE." She turns a glare at the boy."They can't just disappear. THEY don't DO disappearing!" She's near the point of hyperventilation as she's looking over to the next manor in the distance. "It's too much! Too much structure. Too many resources. SOMETHING would always be left behind! There's gotta be-"

"SUMMER!" The boy shouts to make her flinch and stop. She meets his stern gaze, and for a moment, he falters. "I get it... but, obviously they found a way. Just... calm down and think. Could they have any allies that could have helped them disappear?"

The girl was clearly distressed, barely containing herself enough not to yell. "N- no! None. I knew every single contact the family had been using for YEARS. They can't just-... FIND someone out of nowhere, could they?"

The boy frowns. "I can't answer that definitively, but obviously someone or something helped them go underground." He looks away, huffing before awkwardly placing a hand on Summer's shoulder. "Just... try to be positive?"

Summer sends a teary gaze at him. Centering herself, she manages a smile and nods. The fact that she managed it at all seems to shock the boy.

Footsteps sound as they look to spot another. A woman with black hair, red eyes, and a red rough eastern leather. A red sword is sheathed as she approaches. Her face is purely business. "We checked the other manors. Nothing. I've never seen anyone be this thorough in disappearing." She crosses her arms in a huff. "Now, we don't have anything to show for lying to Professor Ozpin."

The boy tenses and scowls. "That can't be your only thought." He says, flicking his eyes not so subtly to his leader.

"Only thing that's useful." The raven haired woman retorts emotionless. "Need to brace ourselves for the scolding. We've wasted enough of the academy's time."

The boy takes an aggressive step. "Would it kill you to be the slightest bit caring in a situation like-"

Summer's hand tugs him by the shoulder. He sees her frown in disapproval. "No fighting please." Summer turns to the new woman. "Thank you for helping."

The woman blinks wide eyed, eventually nodding back. Another boy comes running from the distant houses. "Hey!" A blonde boy with a gauntlet over his fists with no sleeves to show off his muscles runs to them. He stops, gazing up with violet eyes. "You all find anything?"

"No." Summer answers, gaze trailing down.

The blonde shifts uncomfortably. "H-hey! They'll turn up! I mean, we found the place, and they had to be here for decades. If they're that big, Professor Ozpin should be able to find them! We just need to give some time-"

Summer's teary gaze snaps up at the boy, making him flinch. "Time? TIME?! It took me a year and a half JUST to come back here! All this training for what?" She shudders with a breath. "My brother is still out there, and I-..." She chokes up, distress filling her.

The blonde earns twin glares from the raven haired duo. He shrinks under their glares, sweating bullets, but shakes it off. He steps forward, wrapping his arms around Summer.

The girl lets out a quaking gasp for air as her breath fills with choked whines. She slowly lets her head down on his collar as the tears finally come, unrestricted. The other boy places a hand on Summer's shoulder, rubbing them. Even the other girl touches the girl's arm for comfort.

"I promised... I need to find him." Summer's head shakes in the comfort around her. "Anything that happens to him is my fault."

My fault.

Everything is my fault.

I wasn't strong enough.

. . .

Carmine flinches awake. He lays in an inn bed. Reaching for his eyes...

His face is wet. His face felt off. Like he'd been crying... He lurches up, feeling the droplets fall from his chin onto the sheets, soaking in. Why was he..?

That dream. What was that? That was Summer, but she was younger than he'd ever seen her. And the others... His eyes close as he focuses on them. Moody, sarcastic, abrasive... The red eyes gave it away, but Qrow was always more relaxed, confident. Teen years?

Carmine's hands find his head as he wipes the tears away. He didn't even know who the other woman was. And frankly, he would be happy never to. She was clearly scary, and not showing any warmth except to that blonde-

He blinks eyes wide.

Why did the blonde seem familiar? Like he's seen him, even heard him before...

Shaking himself awake, he needs to get up. He sits up, looking to the bed across the room. Still made. No one has slept in it yet. Roman.

Carmine exits the room, eager to go to the inn's cafe area and receive a drink. Entering the room clad in sweat pants and a blue shirt, Carmine spots Roman at the bar, chatting up the bartender. Carmine walks over, getting the attention of the bar man. "Hey... uh, just a glass of water."

The man goes to get it, and Roman can't help but snort after taking a drink from hos bottled beer. His clothes were changed for a clean set, his left leg propped on the next bar stool. "Can't sleep without the night light?"

"oh, even more horrible." Carmine mocks, hiding his nerves. "Maybe I just couldn't sleep not knowing where 'Little Ro' was." He drawls out sarcastically. The joke gets a laugh from the man. The bartender hands Carmine a glass of water. "Well... make sure to sleep. Just cause Blair is driving tomorrow doesn't mean I wanna listen to you snore the whole way."

Roman huffs. "As if you have any right to say anything about snoring, brat." He wages him off. "Night, Silver Streak."

Carmine pauses, staring at the back of the man's head before shaking his head and leaving the cafe area. Sleep is more important, and dismissing that weird dream.

However, a figure remains behind Roman, dead staring at the man's back.

The feminine figure shrouded in a white cloak. Her body is unaffected by the low lighting shadows. Whole body is equally lit as if standing in soft daylight. Her hood was up. The figure was completely still.

A minute passes before Roman finishes his drink. "Barkeep! Another one here!" He begins to feel off. That prickly feeling of heightened alert. Like something is watching him.

He turns his head to glance over his shoulder.

Nothing.

Roman snorts as his new beer is placed in front of him. Popping the cap, he takes a drink.

And Roman death match. Roman punch. Roman stab. Roman win! (Sorry, I'm meming...)

In other news, Roman's backstory is now established, bringing to current. His attitude against people playing hero being the product of him waiting and eventually giving up on Summer. As well as how he was brought in to AZRL out of political reasoning.

Some bonding between Carmine and Roman here, with Roman making the choice to give a little... just one more chance.

For reference for ages and timeline for this story:

Roman had his Arbitration set for when he was five. Summer, sixteen at the time, killed their father to disrupt the family's order and stop Roman's arbitration from happening, viewing the family's practices as too cruel and needing stopped.

She'd intended to bring about Lincoln's death, and flee with Roman at the earliest convenience, but was caught doing it, putting her actions to light in the family. She was unable to take Roman and instead fled to those who could give her the ability to help.

Like Blake Belladonna in canon, this resulted in Summer training for a while and entering Beacon Academy to gain the resources and connections to go against her family through the huntsmen, as well as founding Team STRQ.

However, she would never find Roman, as the family had preemptively sold him to AZRL to avoid total territory collapse. The family took measures so Summer couldn't find them, and thus, she failed Roman, leading to his scorn and disdain of heroes and birth of the developmental phrase "Lie, Cheat, Steal, Survive."

References:

Song used this time is a Mashup called An Arsenal That Never Comes by the Youtube channel Hyper Shan. This channel specializes in remixing and mashing up Sonic game songs with pop culture songs. In this case, it is the Sonic Forces track Arsenal crossed with Linkin Park's Light That Never Comes. The swapping of the background music really reinvigorates my enjoyment of some of those older songs, so highly recommend.

Join next time in Chapter Forty Five: Still Wind.