Felipe1402XZA: i really like how you setup One piece and Toriko world with remnant, is good pyrra have confince in his friends but they can't sopport more of 5 minutes in gourmet world
Re: Firstly, that's a pretty wild penname you've got there. Second, yeah, the intent was to "frame" "the greater world of Remnant" as a long journey, and that Remnat itself wouldn't be all-important. Plus, the world of Toriko being a plus-sized version of our world, made it easy to throw One Piece into the mix beyond just cameos and references.
LoamyCoffee: Indeed it does, and works better. It's always weird when the author 'forgets' then adds random stuff.
Well, I expected an another info chapter due to the box,but it was wonderful to hear how much the world has been expanded!
Vincent being an Esper is understandable, due to his control over wind.
And now my brother is trying to say Benders and Chi users are espers.
Of course, now I'm wondering why Salem didn't send associates from The Backyard if she has any, rather than Cinder.
Then again, I doubt they wouldn't be discreet or unnoticeable. I am worried about what Vincent is doing at the moment.
Re: Glad you enjoyed the world-building. That's my favorite part of writing when the Canon gets blurry on certain details.
As for Benders and Chi users being "Espers", allow me to put that argument to bed as-best I can; since this is the kind of topic I love geeking out over but can only do so in-person at anime conventions like MTAC.
First-off: Benders and Chi users being "Espers" can either be Correct or Incorrect depending on what Franchise you're talking. As Birdy from Bad Fur Day once said, "It means context sensitive... It's sensitive to context!"
In terms of Avatar: The Last Airbender/Legend of Korra, Chi is an Energy Source akin to Ki from Dragonball (Z/GT/Super), and because traditional Bending is reliant on bodily movements/martial arts/kata to manipulate the surrounding elements, it's still a body-based technique. Chi Blocking is based around the body's pressure points, so there's zero Esper ability behind it, it's just a matter of applying the academic knowledge of pressure points to combat.
The exception to this rule in the context of ATLA or LoK, is in terms of Psychic Benders like Combustion Man and his [Combustion Bending], Yakone and his [Psychic Bloodbending], or Ming Hua and her [Psychic Waterbending]. Combustion Man lost the Chakra Pathways in an arm and leg and couldn't do conventional Firebending stances, so he had to invent a new style that "focused" all that energy through the Anja/Light Chakra in the center of his forehead, with his "third eye" tattoo being a Focci similar to Wands/Staves for magic users; basically he uses it as self-hypnosis/auto-hypnotic suggestion to make [Combustion Bending] easier. Yakone "trained up" his [Bloodbending] enough that he could not only do it without the power-boost given by a Full Moon, but could do so with only his thoughts instead of the traditional Tai Chi; which in a normal fight is about as threatening as Yoga. Ming Hua, being born without arms similar to Avatar Salai of the Fire Nation, can only do Tai Chi movements associated with her Hips, Spine, and Head, so there's obviously a "Psychic" element to it not unlike Yakone.
As an add-on, Toph for her part in LoK could be considered a "Psychic Earthbender" because of the extremely minimalist movements of her Bending style, which is augmented by the insane level of "connectivity" she has to the world, since she's been stated capable of "seeing" events happening in Zaofu and Republic City down to individual people. Although by the same grain, it could also be argued that Toph isn't "quite at the level of Psychic Earthbending", but she's extremely close. [Seismic Sense], while amazing, isn't quite the level of ESP/Extrasensory Perception, the ordinary sense of feel/hearing she does have is just hyper-acute, not unlike Daredevil from Marvel who is not an outright Esper; though that can change depending on continuity and how individual writers interpret his powers.
In summary, the Line between Chi and PK/Psychokinesis in ATLA/LoK is "blurry", since as-of-yet, there's no "general" form of Psychokinesis that isn't "restricted" by the Cardinal Elements of Water, Earth, Fire, and Air.
In context of Dragonball (Z/GT/Super), the Line separating Ki and PK is a little more clear-cut. Correction: it's very clear-cut.
Ki comes from one's vitality, a body-based energy source in-line with [Gourmet Energy] from Toriko; in that way, techniques are interchangeable between those Franchises since they use the same energy source, it's just a matter of theme. Goku could still use Toriko's [Fork], [Knife], and other cutlery-based attacks, and Toriko could still use the [Kamehameha] or [Solar Flare], it's just a matter of the culture of the world they come from. Hell, thanks to Gourmet Cells, the [Ozaru Transformation] could easily be possible in Toriko, since the really high-end Bishokuya can "manifest" their Appetite Demons through their own cells in the same fashion. Saiyan anatomy simply gives the Saiyan race a shortcut to doing it, just like how other alien races with built-in Transformations radically change shape because of genetic factors to adapt to external stimuli as a defense mechanism.
Tien Shinhan and Chiaotzu on the other hand, draw a very fine line between Ki and PK. While it is true that Goku has limited Psychokinesis and Telepathy, in the context of his world, Goku "unlocked" those abilities as a result of attaining an "enlightenment" similar to Tien. Goku using PK and Telepathy are still "Esper" abilities, there isn't much crossover with Ki, Goku is simply "a Ki user who awakened Psychokinetic power". Not that Ki "gives" Psychokinetic power.
In summary, the line between Ki and PK/Psychokinesis in Dragonball (Z/GT/Super), is very clearly defined, since the rules of what separates them are more-firmly established in the world's lore instead of being left ambiguous like in Avatar: The Last Airbender/Legend of Korra.
Hope that cleared things up. Way wordier than I thought it'd be, but separating Bending/Chi from Esper abilities can only be done so with the proper context. And like I said above, it's so much fun for me to geek out about stuff like this. I always have a lot of fun with it.
As for Salem and The Backyard, The Backyard is her "unassailable stronghold at the end of the world", but with her magic she can bypass the topography borrowed from One Piece and Toriko; it's just a matter of playing "the long game", since "time is my (her) ally in all things". I don't think she said that specifically, but as an Immortal ("High-End Immortality" by UQ Holder! standards; even if she's completely atomized, she can Auto-Revive because her Curse is partly "Conceptual" in nature), she can afford to wait around, since she's had countless Eons to master her Patience.
As for Vincent, I'm glad that readers are becoming invested-enough about him to actually care what he's up to instead of treating him like furniture in the background; it's a sign that I've done a good job with my OCs. A far cry from what they were like in my earliest works, all… boring and two-dimensional.
Blaze1992: I wonder how many brains melted from this CH.
Re: In-story or IRL?
But yeah, a more-robust world offers plenty of opportunity. RWBY Canon… They did a good job of building up Atlas, Menagerie, and a bit of Mistral, but I fear RWBY might end before we can get a proper look at Vacuo. I can totally envision giant "Sand Shark" Grimm moving through the sands, like something out of Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild.
*NEW WORLD*
"I can't believe Jack did that…!" Jaune growled as they tended to Pyrrha's wound, back in their dorm once they'd gotten free of the RA's "Invisible Box". "He could've really hurt you, cutting your face like that!"
"Don't worry, Jaune. It was a clean cut, it won't scar," Pyrrha said reassuringly. Not that she'd ever gotten such wounds on her face before, though that didn't so much as say about any lack of talent on her part as it did a sheer abundance on Jack's own.
Which begged the question, how'd he hurt her without a hidden razor blade up his sleeve… or something? Sure, he could tighten his muscles to have iron-like hardness, double-jump through the air multiple times, send out wind blades with a kick, and even move faster than the eye could see, but…
Where was she going with this?
"Still, the picture he painted of the world outside Remnant… Even if it didn't seem like it, he was doing us a kindness by scaring us off like that," Ren hummed. "If even he's cautious, we'd do well to follow his example."
"Yeah, well… He didn't have to go that far," the blond grumbled.
"Well, I mean, it's not like you coulda stopped him," Nora hummed, idly kicking her feet. "And I mean, that was just a love tap. Imagine what he could do with a weapon in his hand-oh, right…"
"No, no, I'm over it. I was actually quite happy to get the challenge," Pyrrha hummed sentimentally. "Just means I have to redouble my training for the Vytal Festival Tournament!"
"Though that just begs the question; what will Jack do for the tournament?" Ren questioned.
"You think he'll fly solo?" Nora asked, somewhat eagerly. "That reminds me for whatever reason; I wonder how things are going with Blake," she added.
"How… could those things possibly relate to one another?" Jaune asked.
"It's best not to question her logic," Ren hummed in a knowing tone.
*NEW WORLD*
"This… might have been a mistake…" Blake thought awkwardly as she sat in the RA's room, nervously patting Blair as she sat coiled on her lap, purring softly.
Ignoring Yang's teasing, and almost stuffing that damn apron down the blond's throat -why did she even have that? She'd never seen Yang cook-, Blake really didn't have an ulterior motive for wanting to be there for Vincent when he returned.
She still had no idea what he'd gotten into after trapping them in that box, only that whatever had happened when he'd gotten that call had utterly destroyed him. Maybe not permanently, but those words, that desperation, it all came from a place of hurt she couldn't help but sympathize with.
"I hope he's alright…" she hummed, her eyes wandering about for wont of anything else to do until he returned.
Spying an old tome on his desk, bookmarked, amber eyes glanced back and forth. Satisfied that no-one could see, she tiptoed over to the desk before flipping the book open, brows scrunching in consternation at the sight that greeted her.
The characters were all in Chinese, the really hardcore Chinese that only the natives could read, but she could glean some information on what the story was about from the pictures.
It seemed to be your classic good-vs-evil story, a bald, shirtless-for-some-reason monk, against a "witch" of some kind with fiery hair and black robes with wide sleeves. At the witch's defeat, she was sealed inside some kind of… puzzle box? And then the tools the monk used to defeat the witch and her forces were scattered across the world.
'Wait a minute. These objects…' she thought eyeing some of the items on the following pages. A few of them looked familiar, but the one that stood out the most was the pendant with the eye-like ruby in the center that the monk had been holding in his final confrontation.
It was conspicuously absent from its place on the wall.
"Nooo… It couldn't possibly…" she said turning back to the epic clash, the shirtless monk firing lightning from the very same pendant to meet the witch's own. "But, that's just a story, right…?"
The next moment the latch clicked open.
"I'm hooome…" a tired voice in the doorway announced to no-one in particular, feet dragging.
"Vincent!" Blake yelped, hastily snapping the book shut and flushing like a girl caught doing something she shouldn't.
Adult literature notwithstanding…
"Ah! Blake! You're here!?" Vincent yelped in surprise.
"Yes I'm here!" Blake yelped. "I… I was worried. You sounded really distressed earlier," she said nervously before a peculiar odor wafted under her nose. "Um…" *Sniff*Sniff* "Is that…? What is that?"
Smelled of iron and… ozone?
"I… may've gone a little overboard…" Vincent admitted guiltily, eyes averted.
"Overboard… with what…?" Blake asked worriedly.
" . . . Blake. Can you keep a secret?" Vincent asked after a moment's pause.
"I like to think I can," Blake hummed smugly.
Ignoring the fact that Jack did know, but he was hyper-observant about everything around him, so her failed secrecy on that front got a pass.
"It's… It's a long story."
"I like long stories," Blake answered kindly, a hopeful smile on her face.
" . . . I'll put on some tea."
*NEW WORLD*
" . . . You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Blake said a short while later, finding herself sitting across the RA as the electric tea kettle between them hummed, the aromatic scent of tea leaves rising into the air.
"I trapped you guys in that 'mime box', even if it was by accident. If anything, since you're my best friend at-the-least I owe you an explanation," the odd-eyed teen returned with a tired sigh.
"Well… Whenever you're comfortable," Blake returned, eyeing Blair enviously -enviously?- as her spine was slowly stroked over and over, the long-tailed cat putty in his hands as she laid bonelessly across his lap.
" . . . How much did I tell you about Old Man Wok?"
"Not much. Just that he gave you a place to live and a job after he found you."
"Yes, well… Before I came into his life, there was this little old lady he was sweet on. A classy dame by the name of Ruth."
"Uh huh…" Blake nodded.
"She had breast cancer. Sometimes Wok would have me walk her home after visiting our store, make sure she got there safely," Vincent explained. "She was so nice to me. My robot arm didn't bother her one bit, and she always had stories to tell. Sometimes Wok and I would have dinner with her and her son, and the two of us, her son and I, would go out to buy groceries before dessert so they'd have a little time alone."
"Did… Did she take a turn for the worse?"
"No."
At this Blake let out a relieved sigh-
"She died."
-which she quickly sucked back in through her teeth.
"Turns out… she was a victim of the Irish Mob's fake chemotherapy drug operation," he continued sadly, Blake's jaw dropping at the straight face he'd said that with.
" . . . F-Fake chemo dugs?!" Blake gawped once she found her voice. "How… How did that happen?!"
"Turns out, some of the cops that got eaten the other day were getting kickbacks from the mob, and with the VPD so-destabilized after all their evil and corruption came back to literally bite them in the ass, and then eat aforementioned ass…there wasn't much that could be done even after the fake drugs were discovered," he continued. "And it's not just the cops that were eaten that's the problem. Once word of their corruption got out, police academy drop-outs were at an all-time high, so the city's had to contact Hunters and mercenaries to help keep the peace until PR can breathe some life back into the force, though most of the mercs are only doing the bare minimum to get their pay."
"Oh my god…" Blake gasped, having never realized just how extensive the damage to the VPD had been in the wake of that Grimm Stampede.
Sure, they'd harassed her fellow Faunus during their sit-ins and boycotts, but they didn't deserve to go out like that.
Even if they were corrupt and/or shamelessly racist.
Okay, maybe some of them did deserve what they got in the end.
Where was she going with this?
"Wok was devastated when the cancer took her, but her son…"
*Past*
Vincent had rushed to Ruth's apartment as quickly as he could after getting the call, even though what had happened wouldn't be changed by his haste.
It wasn't for Ruth's sake only that he ran off, chasing down a leaving shuttle at a dead sprint for ten minutes and using his faculty pass to get in. No, his expedience was for the sake of Ruth's son, Silver Bowman, who had always been close to and cared for her in her golden years.
Standing across from the mantle where Ruth's funerary urn sat prominently in the middle, Vincent listened to what Silver had managed to dig up using his private eye connections; or at the very least giving some veracity to an open secret that Humans weren't wont to discuss aloud because… you know… racism.
"So then the Irish did this to her," Vincent grit out.
"Yeah," Silver confirmed. He was a handsome man with eyes of finest pewter, the sort of man who could have any woman he wanted and make it look easy, his jet-black hair so-thick barbers charged extra, clad in a silver work suit, black shirt, and black Oxfords.
"What're we going to do now, given how-useless the police are?" Vincent asked, fist clenched angrily at what had been done to such a sweet, innocent old lady.
Those were the best kind!
"Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war…" Silver growled beneath his breath, eyes narrowing and arms crossed tensely.
"Huh. I always thought it was 'hogs of war', what with how hogs could kill dogs."
"Whatever 'farm animal of war'!" Bowman snapped back. "So, you wanna help me vindicate my mother, get some closure for yours?"
"Technically Wok's only my adoptive grandfather, but I get where you're coming from."
"You gonna help me or not?"
"I'm in."
"Good," Bowman replied, a number of shallow breaths sucked in before he screamed- "RAMPAAAGE!"
*Present*
"After that the two of us interrogated the pharmacist she got the candy corn and Zima from."
"Wait, I thought it was fake chemo drugs."
"Yeah, which were basically sucrose and Zima."
"Okay… So how'd you interrogate him?"
*Past*
"IIII think he gets it," Vincent hummed as Silver made a show of equipping every weapon in his arsenal, which included but was not limited to a stiletto, a collapsible sniper rifle, a dirk in the belt buckle, some grenades, a sleeve gun, an SMG, and a sawed-off shotgun.
"Just film the confessions, Vincent. Don't editorialize. Do you get it!" Silver said rounding on the pharmacist.
"Yes! Look, please-" the pharmacist squealed, hands tied behind his back.
"Because I swear to God I will strip back down and show you all over again," Silver said spreading his overcoat wide.
"I get it! I get it! You have a lot of guns!" the pharmacist cried in fright.
It was amazing how-well a Sorry, We're Closed sign and adjustable tinted windows kept lookie-loos out.
Even in the middle of the day!
"And a knife. Which I am going to push, very slowly, into your urethra," Silver said making a show of inching aforementioned dagger toward the man's genitals.
"Ew," Vincent muttered.
"If you don't answer my questions. Number one-"
*Present*
"Wait, where did you guys get the guns? I thought Silver was just a private eye."
"Back before he became a PI he used to do… stuff… for the government. Didn't say exactly what," Vincent answered. "Moving on, that pharmacist squealed like a pig, even without having to get a knife shoved in his dick, so we followed the breadcrumbs down to the docks…"
*Past*
"Wow, what a pussy. I could barely even keep up, he was spilling the beans so fast."
"Well, you did threaten to shove a knife up his dick hole. Which again, ick."
"Well excuse me, Vincent, it's a rampage."
"Still though," Vincent sighed adjusting the camera. "You really wanna take on the Irish mob?"
"No, I don't. But they're the ones who switched out my mother's live-saving cancer drugs with candy and Zima! And why couldn't it be the Brazilian mob? Estou aprendendo português, Vincent. Plus I can only assume a Brazilian mob would be a jillion times sexier. Seriously, these potato-heads have to be the unsexiest mob of all time."
"How did you get in?"
"I was getting to that."
*Ptchoo!* *Ptchoo!* *Ptchoo!*
"You shot them?!"
"Technically Silver did. And he used a silencer, so no-one heard. The Irish having their warehouse so-far away kinda backfired."
"What… did you do with the bodies?"
"Silver and I rolled them into a corner once we took the warehouse."
"You know who yer messin' with, boyo?! You've any idea who our boss is?!" an Irish mobster tied to a chair between two of his compatriots demanded, slightly beat-up from when they'd seized the warehouse.
"How did you seize the warehouse?"
"We killed the lights and beat the ever-loving shit out of them with Night Vision Goggles. Not with the goggles, we used them to beat them up in the dark. After that we woke them up with smelling salts."
"Nope, but 100 people surveyed number one answered on the board. Name the douchebag, who's in charge," Silver demanded.
"Vincent. Van Go Fuck 'yerself."
"Hmmmm. Vincent Van Go Fuck myself. Survey says!"
*BANG!*
"Jesus, Bowman!" Vincent yelped as the mobster had one of his kneecaps blown off for the trouble.
"What?! I said it was a rampage!"
"Still though!" Vincent cried.
"Rrrngh! Oh, you son of a hoor!"
"Save it for the Fast Money round, paddie. Hundred people surveyed, number one answer's still on the board. Name the douchebag, who's in charge. *Gonk gonk*, need an answer."
A moment later and Silver had a wad of phlegm spat onto his face.
"Hm. Cock-flavored spit. Well, you never know what's going to be on the board. Let me see cock-flavored spit!"
*BANG!*
A moment later and the second mobster had a kneecap blown out.
"Guys, that's two strikes! One more and the innocent Honduran janitors get a chance to steal the bank!" Silver said gesturing to a trio of foreigners tied and gagged to a trio of chairs, much like the Irish. "I'm just assuming you guys don't know what actually goes on here. Hope that doesn't sound racist. Okay kid-" he said turning to the relatively uninjured Irishman.
"He is a kid."
"Vincent! You're in the isolation booth!" Silver snapped before whirling back onto the young man in the left-most chair. "Looking for the douchebag, who's in-"
"Mikey Hannity, you say one word and I'll cut yer yella heart out myself-"
*BANG!*
"Oh! Christ!" Mikey screamed as the instigator was suddenly shot in the chest.
"Mikey, listen to me. My mother died of breast cancer-"
"Ha! Breast cancer-"
*BANG!*
"So you'll forgive my impatience because my dearly-departed mother, and a lot of other people, have been trying to fight cancer, with your bosses' fake chemo drugs," Bowman said after shooting the second instigator, also in the chest and spattering the boxes behind him bright red.
"Chemo? They just told me it was cream for male pattern baldness!" Mikey yelped.
"Yes, and I'm sure a lot of people love their hair," Silver brushed off. "Just as I'm sure you, love your kneecap-"
"Mikey started blathering straight-away."
"Franny Delaney! He rules everything out here in Upper Vale! Numbers, protection, dope, prostitution-"
"Don't care about any of that," Silver interrupted. "Tell me, about the counterfeit chemo drugs," he insisted forcefully.
"They make the pharmacist buy the real stuff. Delaney sells it to- I swear I don't know who, but they switch it with the fake stuff here. And those pricks do all the packing!"
"What? You guys are in on this? And I was worried about sounding racist."
"Were you?" Vincent asked.
"They don't even know what goes on here. They can't even read English. All those dirty beaners care about is, is taking Valian jobs-"
"Hey, relax, Hannity, it wasn't all that long ago that everybody hated the Irish, for swarming over here in their potato boats and taking all the jobs," Bowman interrupted.
"Yeah, they… wait, what?"
"And I'm pretty sure, and guys feel free to correct me, that 'beaner' is a pejorative term for a Mexican, Esta correto ou nao?" Bowman said turning to the bound-and-gagged janitors. "Huh. Thought there'd be a little more overlap with the Portuguese.
"Well, plus they're gagged."
"Still though…"
*PRESENT*
"After we concluded our interrogation, we moved onto some of the upper management at a poker game."
"What'd you do with the Irishman and the janitors?"
"Bowman called some Faunus acquaintances of his who also had family fighting breast cancer with fake drugs."
"Ah, I see…"
"So… after we found out where some of the mob had their big poker game, and infiltrated their front store which for some reason was disguised as a corned beef place, Silver killed… all but one of them."
"What happened to the last one?"
*Past*
"W-What are ya doin' back there?!" the Irish mobster whimpered, handcuffed to the top of the poker table with his pants around his ankles.
"Don't worry about what I'm doing. Concentrate on what you're doing," Silver said warningly.
"W-What am I doin'?"
"For starters, you can apologize to my friend for your homophobic remarks."
"I-I'm sorry! I had no idea you were a gay!" the man pleaded.
"I'm not," Vincent returned.
"Now, I'm gonna assume you know the difference between an M-26 and a Mark Two fragmentation grenade so-"
"What?!"
"What? Oh, sorry, do you not?" Silver asked. "Okay, the Mark Two has kinda nubbly ridges? Ya feel those? Different circumstances, might actually feel pretty good."
"W-Wait, son, now just wait a second-"
"Another key difference is the pin."
*Tink*
"Oh, Jaysus!"
"See? The striking lever's the same, though. Spring-loaded. Which reminds me: did you know that men can also benefit from doing Kegel exercises? Case in point, huh? Now, where's your cancer-patient-killing boss?"
*Present*
"So wait, you just left him with a grenade stuck up his ass?" Blake asked confusedly.
"No, of course not, it was a smoke grenade."
"Oh thank god."
*Past*
*BOOM!*
*Present*
"Or at least it was supposed to be…" Vincent said nervously, the girl gawping openly as he told her what happened next.
" . . . HOW…?!"
"Well they don't exactly label them."
" . . . Did you at least get the location of… What's his name?"
"Franny Delaney; past tense."
"Right. Did you at least get his location?"
"Yes."
"And the two of you… what, stormed the Irish mob headquarters all by yourselves?"
She assumed because there was a distinct lack of police involvement throughout the two's rampage.
"Well…"
*Past*
"EYE OF DASHI!"
A second later and nature's wrath ripped the headquarters of the Irish mob a superfluous new asshole.
*Present*
"In about as many words…" Vincent said keeping the exact details of the breach to himself, discretely adjusting the pendant hidden under his clothes, the ruby eye slightly warm against his skin.
"And… what did you do with Delaney?"
She noticed.
"Oh, I left that to Silver; Ruth being his mother and all."
"And you recorded it?"
"No. He hooked the camera to a tripod and had his one-on-one with Delaney. I stood back to watch his six."
*Past*
"Delaney?"
"Yes?"
"Did you see Kelly this morning?"
"Yes. Why?"
" . . . "
*BANG!*
*Present*
"So wait, you just… went along with all this?" Blake asked realizing how many people they'd killed.
Technically only Silver actually killed anyone, but at the very least Vincent was an accomplice!
"Well, the police wouldn't have done anything, after or before the Grimm ate most-every crooked cop in the city," Vincent answered. " . . . That's why I needed to know, that if I went through with all that, if I'd still have a friend here waiting for me..."
"Oh, Vincent…" Blake said, her hands going to his. "I'd be a bit of a hypocrite if I didn't."
" . . . Thank you. That means a lot," Vincent said with a smile, Blair sitting up from his lap and rubbing her head against Blake's arm.
"Still…" she said reciprocating the gesture. "Will you be able to live with it?"
"I kinda have to, and those Irish guys made it personal anyways," Vincent said with a scowl. "Even if Wok and Ruth didn't have a lot of time left, I feel like the two of them could've re-married and been happy. Apart from Silver, I think Ruth's death hurt Wok most of all."
"If it's any consolation, I'm sorry for your loss," Blake said somberly. "I have a friend who's ill too, so I can understand where you're coming from. A little, at least," she amended.
"Oh, does your friend have breast cancer too?"
"No, she's just… really sick."
"Oh. Well, I hope she gets better soon," Vincent returned.
*SQUEEEEEEEE!*
"Tea's done."
*Knock*Knock*
"Ah, hold on. Who is it?"
"Oh good, your back," the voice on the other side said in relief. "It's me, Pyrrha. Can I come in?"
"Sure, come in. My door's always open."
"Hey, Vincent, glad to see you're back," Pyrrha greeted tiredly, eyes drooped shut. "After the day I've had, I just want to have a nice sit-down in a quiet place with my-"
Pyrrha froze mid-step when she realized Blake was already there, looking at her curiously.
"With my… Um… My uh…?" the redhead stammered nervously as her eyes darted between Blake and the boxes of comics under the couch she was sitting on.
"Pyrrha, don't worry, this is a safe space. I won't judge you for your use of recreational drugs," Vincent said with a completely straight face before Pyrrha yanked him from the couch and drew him in close.
"What on Remnant are you doing?!" she hissed frantically.
"Don't worry. Blake won't find out about your comic book collection from me."
"Telling her you're holding my drugs isn't any better!"
'They do know I can hear everything they're saying, right?' Blake mused to herself as her ears waggled. 'Oh… Wait…'
*NEW WORLD*
A tad nonsensical, but I did this for a reason. Subtle, but you should be able to find out why.