Trivia was hating the world.

Not that she ever didn't, of course.

She hated her eyes, which were two different colors.

She hated her parents, because of how they treated her, like she was some bug underfoot, some vermin just because she wasn't perfect or - as they put it - normal.

She even hated her hair, which her parents forced into brown pigtails every morning. They were the pigs, not her.

And she hated not being able to say any of this.

Trivia couldn't talk. Oh, she wasn't deaf, though her parents always acted like it. Stupid stuck up rich people, hosting their stupid parties to see who could stick their noses higher in the air. No, it wouldn't be good to explain that she just had a fault in her throat structure that prevented her from making even a sound… bla, bla, bla. No, little Trivia was just mute, couldn't hear, couldn't speak, out of sight during galas or just treated like a servant.

She didn't dislike her parents. She loathed them.

Trivia's dream was to shout all of this in their faces and tell them that if they hosted one more stupid party she would miraculously be able to speak and make a screech so loud they would hear it across the kingdoms.

But she never could, and she was miserable for sixteen long years of agony, until her salvation finally came in the place she least expected: one of her parents' stupid parties.

A dinner party, to be exact. Where every noble in the region was invited to the abnormally large dining room in Trivia's family's manor to laugh and drink fancy things and see who could stick their noses higher in the air. Where Trivia was expected to act like a deaf servant, though her parents knew perfectly well she could hear all of them.

She hated it, and these parties were when she most wanted to murder her parents.

Today, she had finally made a style change she wanted done clear to her parents (by writing it on a paper her parents scathingly called the "translation paper") and to her ultimate surprise,they had given it to her, on the condition that she also carried a pink-and-white parasol. So for this party, she switched out her stupid brown pigtails (yes, her parents had persisted on this point for fifteen years since she was one) for dying half of her long hair pink to match her eyes. She rather liked this style.

At one point in the party, Trivia had come out of her room, where she often resided during these parties, because she needed to eat. As she was making her way to the table, Trivia spotted one guest in the crowd that was different from the others, in that he wasn't dripping in jewels or sticking his nose in the air. He was dressed in fancy clothes, sure, with a white suit coat and a black hat with a red band, but his only accessory was a cane that he didn't seem to be using, and he was walking with his head down and not talking to anyone. He was so inconspicuous that it was suspicious. Also; Trivia had never seen him, and her parents' parties meant that she knew all of the upper class idiots at least by sight, because those were the only ones ever invited.

So that left only two explanations for the stranger's identity: Either he was not an upperclassman and Trivia's parents had other reasons for inviting him, or he had not been invited in the first place and was not supposed to be there. Both of which were, to Trivia, highly suspicious.

Or maybe he was just an upperclassman Trivia didn't know and she was just overreacting.

But Trivia doubted this. He didn't move or act like one, and besides,Trivia knew from her own experience that she was rarely wrong about things, especially people.

So then one of the other two options. That was a little scary, since Trivia couldn't predict what he would bring to this party.

But, thought a bored, rebellious side of her mind, that means that something new will happen. For once. And that will be great. A change, after all these years. Whether it is for the better or the worse, I need a change.

Trivia hardly ever hoped. Hope was for people in storybooks where everything and everyone was just so. Even so, she found some part of her, secretly, hoping that whatever changed would be for the better.

The stranger, who had been slowly drifting through the chattering crowd towards her parents, had finally reached them. Only the most nearby guests and Trivia had noticed this. Then he clacked his cane on the marble floor, making a loud enough noise to make everyone turn toward him. For a moment surprise flashed across his face at how loud it was, then it was gone.

Now that the stranger had straightened up, Trivia could see his face. He had bright orange hair that swept across his face and covered one of his eyes, which were bright green. He looked almost lazy. He was confident and cocky, and he spoke in a voice that captured all ears.

"Roman Torchwick, at your service," he said. "I'm disappointed that our meeting has to be cut short, because your dust company," Roman raised his cane. Trivia was confused at this. Her parents had never told her what their work was, and why was Roman raising his cane? Is he going to beat them with it? She thought. Ooh, what a beautiful image, Roman Torchwick beating Trivia's parents with a cane. But what actually happened was both better and worse.

The bottom of the cane flipped up and became a scope (A SCOPE? Wait is that cane a-) "is a little too… productive for my friends' tastes."

Trivia's parents' eyes widened as Roman's finger found a trigger on his cane.

BAM!

BAM!

Trivia's parents fell backwards, chests smoking, and pandemonium broke out.

Roman laughed as he turned his gun on the crowd surging towards the exit.

Trivia's head was spinning so fast she was almost dizzy. She was amazed at what was going on, loving what had happened to the two beings in the world she hated most, and hating it somehow, and above all, frightened for her life. See, though Roman was apparently her savior, he was also shooting everyone he saw. The best thing to do, Trivia could see, was to help him, but she didn't have a weapon.

Wait…

Her pink parasol had a pointed edge. If she did this right, she could…

As a desperate experiment, she pointed her parasol and lunged at the back of the nearest aristocrat.

It sank in and pierced through the other side of the person. Trivia yanked out the parasol, eyes wide with fear that was overshadowed by triumph and pride as she saw her victim's face.

It was Madame Malice, as Lucy called her in her head. She had a real name that Lucy had long forgotten, but that wasn't important. She was one of the first guests Trivia had met, and certainly the rudest. She had called Trivia, in her own words, "a strange, deformed brat that should never have been born", and she had also been Trivia's mother's best friend.

Trivia had hated her from day one, followed by all of her life.

But she'd had her revenge, and now she had this pride, this grim satisfaction, as she stared down at her enemy's body and sneered, replicating the expression Madame Malice had routinely given her as a greeting. Filled with satisfaction, she turned her parasol like a sword and plunged into the fleeing crowd.

The room had been emptied except for Roman Torchwick and Trivia. Well, in a sense- there were bodies everywhere, bearing either large, bloody gaps in themselves or small, clean bullet holes. The rest of the party guests had managed to flee, though Trivia suspected that they were few in number and would soon be hunted down by Roman's "friends". It wouldn't be prudent to leave witnesses. Roman had taken a seat on what used to be her father's chair, which was the largest chair in the room, so that it was almost a throne. The table and the rest of the chairs had been thrown aside- presumably by Roman, to ensure no interference in his shooting spree.

"So, decided to help me kill these aristocrats? I assume it wasn't for my benefit, being we have not met until this moment. So, personal revenge? Or a survival thing? I appreciate either one, kid." Roman said. Trivia nodded.

"Well, that wasn't too informative, was it? You didn't tell me what you were saying 'yes' to, see. It could have been one, or another, or both for all I know."

Unsure what else to do, Trivia nodded again.

"Now, I just told you about that? Can you even speak at all? Because this is just annoying." Roman sighed.

To his obvious surprise, Trivia shook her head.

"Oh. Hmm. Tell you what, kid, do you want to come with me?"

It was Trivia's turn to be surprised.

"Well, I'm open for a new right-hand man ever since my old one retired," (Roman tightened his grip on his cane as he said 'retired', and she had the suspicion that it had not been a voluntary retirement) "and I think you're a good candidate. You're prepared to do things to survive," (he gestured at the bodies nearby) "you're resourceful," (he waved a hand at her bloody parasol) "and bonus, you can't talk. My last partner in crime wouldn't shut up, but I don't think I'll have that problem with you."

Against her will and her fear, Trivia grinned. No one had ever talked about her muteness as a positive quality, let alone a funny pleasantry. Roman didn't know it then, but in that moment, he won Trivia's undying loyalty forever. Maybe, she thought, there is one thing, one person in the world who isn't horrible, who doen't make me miserable.

Trivia began nodding so hard her head might fall off.

"That's a yes, then? Good. Then let's go before the cops arrive… kid? You can't exactly tell me your name, but I don't think I can keep calling you 'kid'. Hmm…"

Roman's eyes darted from her hair to her eyes to her brown, white, and pink outfit. "Let's scram, Neapolitan."

And so Trivia became Neapolitan, or Neo, and Roman soon took to calling her. Later, Trivia got her hands on some paper and a pencil and told him everything about her, her parents, and how she ended up joining him. However, she never told him her real name. Maybe she just didn't like the name, or maybe she liked the name Roman had given her better. Regardless, Trivia was dead now, replaced by Neo.

And when Roman died, snatched up by a monster of death, Neo was filled with a fiery rage. Her life had been taken away, so she turned all her anger, her whole life's purpose, to revenge on the ones who had taken him.

Cinder, the one who set him up to be there.

And the girl in a red cape who had stood there, distracting him, watching as the only one Neapolitan had ever cared about was eaten by a Grimm.