So, I just figured out that the site hasn't been saving my hand made line breaks (which, admittedly, were just an asterisk, but still), which means that the previous chapters of this fic are probably a bit of a jumbled mess that I need to fix at some point?
...
I'll do it later.
Anyway, day 7's prompt is: Free Day! Since I got to pick what the topic was, I went with a prompt I took from a different writing challenge that made me think of these two as soon as I saw it. This is actually the first Copperright fic I've ever written (chapter one's prompt is from much later), and I honestly think it's my favorite one? I hope you do, too. So for the free day, I chose this as my prompt: Precious Metal. I'm sure you can figure out why. See you at the bottom of the page!
As one of the most powerful, influential groups of thieves in the entire world, the Toppat Clan was wealthy. Extremely wealthy. Entire vaults were filled to the brim with jewels, treasures, and rare items that were expertly secured by the clan over decades of hard work. The clan wasn't shy with showing off their affluence, either: the high ranking elites especially were often decked to the nines in an array of sparkling jewelry, ranging from modest and sleek to excessive and cheekily gaudy. Even some of the lower ranking Toppats would keep a piece of treasure on their person, just to say: we are powerful, we are rich, we are unstoppable.
The current chief of the Toppat Clan- one Reginald Copperbottom- sat neatly on the more excessive end of finery, but he made it work. His very clothes were top of the line: perfectly tailored suits and shoes and waistcoats with shining buttons and intricate details woven into every piece, as well as ruffled cravats and jabots of all sorts of rich colors and materials. His black gloves were tailored exactly to fit his hands, allowing both a sleek design and perfect maneuverability for pickpocketing and other delicate tricks of the trade. And, of course, his jewelry: rings, bracelets, brooches; glittering bits of metal that most people wouldn't be able to name under threat of death. With his every move, he sparkled and shone, and even his most noticeable piece- the large gold necklace with a dollar sign-shaped pendant- sent the message that only he could pull off the otherwise excessive look because he was just that wealthy, and it suited him.
As bedecked as the chief constantly was by gold, platinum, silver, and others, it was safe to say that Reginald Copperbottom was very familiar with precious metals. However, among the underworld of con men and thieves who dreamed of even a fraction of that wealth, rumors had begun to spread that the Toppat chief had come into possession of a precious metal unlike any that had been conceived before.
Some claimed it was alien technology, the stuff of science fiction carved out of meteoroids still hurtling through space. Others claimed it must be the stuff of legends, like mithril, stolen from the fae and impenetrable to all mortal weapons. Still others claimed that the rumors were simply that: rumors.
Of course, it was inevitable that someone would try to steal such a treasure from the Toppat Clan, impossible though it seemed. Surely, the clan wasn't all that. The right person, the right team, the right skills could allow one to sneak into Toppat territory to hunt down that most precious metal. And try, they did.
SKIP
Reginald sipped his tea daintily, eyes skimming over the reports from across his empire laid out on the table. Dinner had been lovely, and this was the perfect way to wind down after a long day of work. His right hand man sat across from him, reading an old book he had found in the archives. Reginald would occasionally let his eyes flick over to the man, and sometimes, his right hand man would look back. They'd hold eye contact for a moment when they did, gazing at each other in near total silence, before returning their attention to their readings. Aside from the sounds of sipped tea and the occasional whir of machinery shifting position, it was absolutely quiet.
A sudden rush of muffled yells sounded from just a few rooms over. "I knew it," Reginald sighed, setting his tea in its saucer with a loud clink. "The moment was too good to be true."
Right snapped his book shut with a growl, setting a hand to the side of his head and turning on his communication devices. "Anyone wanna tell me something?" He snapped.
"Sir!" Someone shouted over the other end; Reginald couldn't quite make out who it was. "We have a situation!"
"Yeah, I figured that," Right Hand Man said, standing up and looking in the direction of the noise. "Anyone wanna be specific?"
"One of the newbies got a hold of the explosives!" A different voice shouted. "They're going rogue!"
Reginald and Right's eyes met. "Where are they?" Right sighed, looking away again.
"They're trying to reach the chief! We were going to handle it, but-"
"You failed. Right." He sighed again. "Hold 'em 'til I get there; do not let them get any further. Right Hand Man out." He turned off his speaker.
"How much are you willing to bet that it's the one who fussed about having to wear a top hat for the uniform?" Reginald asked, putting the reports together in a stack on the table.
"Not enough to waste time on that right now. I'll be back." He turned to leave the room.
"Really, now?" Reginald asked. "You're going to leave me here, vulnerable to the whims of anyone who wishes me harm?"
Right snorted. "You want popcorn or something?"
"Or something," Reginald repeated, pressing the back of his gloved hand to his forehead. "Oh, the pain of it all! My evening, my workflow; ruined by a dangerous traitor running amok! Woe and tragedy to all!"
Right raised an eyebrow at him. "You really are bored, aren't you?"
Reginald approached his right hand in a single stride. "I prefer to think that I'm craving adventure."
Right leaned forward, voice dropping. "Why don't you save that attitude for later?"
Reginald leaned closer, smirking up at his right hand. "Is that a promise, now?"
Right breathed a laugh. "Maybe. Are you gonna give me a reward if I work quickly?"
"Oh, yes-"
"SIR WE ARE FREAKING UNDER ATTACK!"
Right slapped his hand to his head. "I said I'm coming, now shuddup!" He sighed, dragging his hand down the side of his face. "I gotta do everything around here, don't I?"
Reginald hummed. "I'll invest in more training for newer members. And reassess the recruiting system, since that seems to be the issue of the day."
"Please do," Right said. "Now come on. Let's get your show on."
SKIP
Luckily, the fires had mostly been doused and the explosives rendered unusable by the time the two of them arrived. Unluckily, the traitor was a feral little thing, actively biting people and tearing at anything they could get their hands on. Despite outnumbering the traitor vastly, no one dared approach them more than a few feet. Luckily again, his right hand man was ready.
With the force of a small rocket, he slammed the heel of his foot into the side of the traitor's head, knocking them to the floor with a hearty thump and a groan. He secured them quickly, knees pressed into the small of their back while he held their arms by the wrists, ignoring the increasingly pained protests of the person beneath.
Reginald approached slowly, standing a good few feet away, in view of the traitor. He glanced around the halls, tsking at the number of scorch marks and holes that littered the walls and floor. Finally, he looked at the traitor and said, "rebuilding the walls will be such a pain, you know."
The traitor glared at him. They were young and gangly, and Reginald noticed a bright green top hat off to the side of them, or what was left of it. He wouldn't be surprised if the fellow had torn it up in their teeth like a dog. Well, that's another bet that he's won.
"Alright," he sighed, addressing the traitor properly. "You wanted to see me, and here I am. Is there anything in particular you wanted to say?
They growled, hissing in pain as his right hand man tightened his grip on their wrists. Reginald could almost hear the creaking of bones from here. "The Chief asked you a question," the right hand man grunted. Still, they did little more than glare at him.
Reginald sighed, twirling a finger in the air. His right hand man snapped their wrist like a twig.
"Aaagh, fine!" They screamed. "I joined so I could steal your precious metal!"
Reginald raised an eyebrow. "An odd way of referring to jewelry, if I've ever heard it."
"No!" They sobbed. "They say you have some sort of precious metal that's super special to you and I was going to steal it!"
Reginald put a hand to his chin, tuning out the cries and wails. Special and precious metal? He had so many precious metals in his possession that he had no idea which piece the poor fool could be referring to. Something special to him specifically-
"Ah," he said after a moment. "I believe I know what you're referring to." He took a step forward and leaned down to look at the traitor. "Well, you certainly have guts. It'd be a shame for you to leave empty handed. Would you like to see it?"
The traitor went quiet, looking up at him with big moon eyes before nodding hesitantly. His right hand man gave him an odd look, but with another twirl of his finger, he got off of them. They clung to their shattered wrist, sniffling pitifully.
"Behold, traitor," Reginald said, gesturing to the side with a flourish, "my most precious metal."
With a few near imperceptible clicks and whirs, the right hand man aimed his weapon straight at the traitor. They stared down the barrel, realization dawning across their face as the canon whirred hotly to life-
Reginald snapped his fingers and the white hot laser burst forth and consumed the poor soul, as well as the carpet and debris around them with the intensity of a thousand suns. When the laser shut off, little more than ash was left where the traitor once stood. Reginald blinked the bright spot out of his eyes before turning to the other Toppats. "Begin repairing the damage immediately," he ordered, "and I want a full report of everything that led up to this moment. I will not forget about this." A few mumbled "yes, sir's" from the other members left him satisfied enough, and with a turn of his heel and a wave of his hand, his right hand man fell in step behind him, the heavy thumps of metal legs against the floor following him rhythmically all the way back to his room.
SKIP
"Honestly, it's like a game of Telephone these days," Reginald sighed as Right closed the door. "'My most precious metal'; as if you don't have a reputation of your own already!"
Right hummed non committedly, flexing his cybernetic arm as if to stretch out a phantom pain.
"In a way, though," Reginald continued, shrugging off his jacket and fluffing out his jabot (a rich, lacy black one for today, with a sapphire brooch holding it in place). "It's almost sweet."
Right raised an eyebrow. "Sweet?" He repeated.
Reginald walked over to him, setting his hands on Right's shoulders and looking up into his human and cybernetic eyes. "You're worth more to me than any treasure I own," he said. "You are the most precious thing in my life."
Right blinked rapidly, then brought the brim of his hat low over his face. "Sheesh, Reg-"
"Ah, ah, ah," Reginald snatched off Right's hat and turned his face towards him. "You're perfect, and you'll hear me say it over and over again, and take it."
A light warmth spread across the organic side of Right's face. "I thought I was supposed to get a reward," he mumbled.
"Oh, believe me," Reginald leaned forward, his lips ghosting over Right's, "I'll be rewarding you all night long."
Good. Good stuff. As soon as I saw the phrase "precious metal", I immediately thought of these two. What's a more precious metal than your half-metal husband? Then all I had to do was throw in some banter and flirtation and dramatics, and boom, the perfect Coppperright fic.
What did you guys think? Leave a review and let me know!
...Oh, and one more thing (everyone applauds politely):
The second ship I'll be doing for my stick ship month is... Curtisson! AKA Burt Curtis x Sven Svensson! And I'll start posting them... probably tomorrow. Yeah, I was supposed to post day 1's prompt today, but I'm tired and hungry! I'll get to it tomorrow, hopefully. Of course, we all know how well I tend to keep my promises... ehehe...
Anyway, I'll see you all tomorrow! Until then!