Last fic of 2023. Have a merry Christmas and a happy new year.

Chapter 5

"Yes, I'm well aware of the consequences of failure. Yes, you're very threatening. I know. I get that, Cinder. I do. The only way this goes wrong is if the White Fang you saddled me with somehow fuck it up. I've told you that. Yes, yes, ominous threats. I'll talk to you later."

Roman hung up on Cinder and turned off his scroll, sliding inside his coat with a put-upon sigh and a roll of his eyes.

"Such a bitch, am I right?"

Neo nodded, though she couldn't help but think Roman wouldn't have been that confident to Cinder in person. More was the pity. Roman was in a foul mood tonight, and not without good reason. The White Fang were already psyching themselves up and had been ranting about "showing it to the humans" when she and Roman arrived to meet them.

Not a good sign. They were fanatics one and all.

Roman was a bit of a fanatic himself, but a lust for fame was easier to deal with than a lust for blood. Neo ought to know on the latter. In fact, Roman was in a dour and professional mood tonight, namely because – in his own words – the White Fang had ruined the atmosphere.

It would be easy to look at Roman as she did and think he was just a flamboyant idiot, but an idiot would have been caught a whole lot more times than he had. Roman was a man with two modes – the scatter-brained glory chaser, and the stone-cold criminal. The latter didn't come out much on account of Roman calling it the boring side of himself. It usually only happened when their lives were in genuine danger, or when he was in a fantastically grim mood.

"Tonight should be a simple affair," he said, in the latter mood by several degrees. "Land, check the containers, hook one or two up and then fly them out. I swear to any god out there that if those animals somehow fuck this up…" He noticed one of the White Fang across the Bullhead glaring at him. "What?" demanded Roman, staring right back. "Got something to say? Don't you have a cause to go die for?"

The faunus looked away.

"Yeah." Roman withdrew a silver cigar case and tapped one out. "That's what I thought."

Neo stared at the case, eyes widening as Roman rolled out a meaty-looking cigar. Urgently, she tapped his elbow and pointed.

"No, Neo," he said, rolling it between his teeth. "I've told you before it's a filthy habit and I won't have you—" She hit him harder. "Oh, you mean how do I have them? Heh." He grinned. "Would you believe this robbery is sponsored by Huntsman Silver Cigars?" He rolled it in his mouth at just the perfect angle for her to see the silver sticker on the side, and the crest emblazoned there. "A refined cigar for the adventurous gentleman."

The flamboyant Roman could still be seen on the edges.

Neo poked it.

Roman, that was. Not the cigar.

"I don't know what to tell you. They got in touch on one of my sites when they noticed the last few heists had been without my signature smokes. Asked if I'd quit. When I told them I was temporarily out, they offered to send me a crate to an undisclosed location of my choice on the provision I'm only seen committing crimes with their brand."

Neo slapped her hand into her face and dragged it down. Truly, if there was one evil in Vale then it was the tobacco industry. Roman laughed and lit it, leaning back with a self-satisfied grin. He swung his feet up onto the knees of the faunus opposite him, using the increasingly angry faunus as a footstool.

The Bullhead dove down with obnoxious speed, making Neo grip Roman's arm. Roman spluttered and shouted a little abuse at their faunus pilot for the rough approach. It wasn't like they had to dodge anything out here coming in from the ocean. Though given the pilot was White Fang, maybe they should be thankful they arrived in one piece at all.

"Useless idiots," Roman snarled. He stood and wrenched open the side door with a heavy clang. "Alright, you lot. Out, out, out. Neo." He offered his hand in a gentlemanly fashion and Neo, with a roll of her eyes, took it. He quickly swept her off her feet and into a carry, leapt out the four short feet, and landed safely. He set her down with a tip of his hat "M'lady."

Neo swiped for his cigar but he yanked it back.

"Ah, ah, ah. First good smoke I've had in weeks. You're not ruining this for me." He tussled her hair before she could stop him, then sauntered on by. "Okay, idiots. Your job now is to check the containers. Do not, for the love of my fantastic ass, just assume that the ones with snowflakes on will have dust in them. The SDC dabbles in more than just dust. Misery, for one." He laughed at his own joke. None of the faunus did. "Sheesh, you'd think you morbid assholes would like that one. Go on. Get going. We need two containers, three if you can count that high."

The masked terrorists cursed and grumbled angrily as they went off to check the containers. Conventional wisdom said it was a bad idea to antagonise such dangerous people, but Roman, for all his many faults, could also be a very dangerous person when he was in the mood to be. The only problem was that he very often wasn't in the mood.

"Killing is so brutish and uninspired," he would say, "Why would I bother when I can make a grand escape with everyone shaking their fists behind me? It's all about the presentation, Neo. The presentation!"

Despite that, there was a reason Roman and her remained free in a city that had its fair share of huntsmen and huntresses. And despite all the nonsense and even the official records, Roman had fought strong people.

Killed them, too.

He just didn't like to advertise it.

"What do you think drives a man to put on a mask and slaughter people for a cause?" he asked her, leaning back on a shipping container marked with a supermarket brand logo. "I mean, I know the faunus get it shit from the SDC and all, but then surely you stick it to them. What's the point in coming to Vale to cause trouble?"

Neo shrugged. She was a killer who, unlike Roman, actually rather enjoyed the act. The only reason she didn't do it more often was because he would look at her with disappointment and then she'd feel all bad. Even so, Neo knew she didn't kill for any real cause, and she knew she was messed up. Most people didn't like killing.

"You think it's small dog syndrome?"

Maybe. Neo made a sign with her hand to agree with him.

"Such a shame. Faunus make great thieves, you know. Good huntsmen, too. You'd think the best way to show everyone they were wrong would be to make their island into a utopia. Show the world they made a mistake when they ousted them. Coming back and doing all this, pah." He blew out some cigar smoke. "All you do is convince people they were right to expel them to Menagerie in the first place."

Neo nodded.

"Hngh. Damn it. This is another reason why I didn't want Cinder to lump us with these idiots. They're making me all melancholy. Killing the mood faster than they kill hostages." Neo snorted. "Eh, you liked that one, did you? You always did like the cold humour. You know, there might be ice-cream in this container. You could take a little home with us."

Neo eyed the container but shook her head. It'd be all melted, and perishables would be stocked either in a refrigerated container or inside some heavy thing packed with ice for transit. Too heavy to move. Neo pointed to his cigars instead and rubbed her finger and thumb together to simulate money.

"Oh, they're not paying me for the sponsorship."

Her eyes flattened.

"I mean, it's a tobacco company, Neo. They're evil, but they're not smart about it. They couldn't send money without it being tracked, but they can dump product for me to pick up from dead drops just fine. Just snatch some dust out of one of these," he said. "Not like Cinder will know any better. You can sell that for some goodness. Or, you know, just rob a convenience store."

Oh, of course. So simple. Why hadn't she thought of that?

Oh, right.

It was because some idiot had drugged her up with medicine and shoved an ass pill down her throat, and she'd spent the last two days tripping balls in bed when she could have been out securing some sugary goodness!

A huge metal CLANG had them both jumping.

Not that either would admit to being startled.

"What the hell is it now?" growled Roman, pushing off and stalking toward the noise. "How do you possibly mess up so simple a task?"

A shipping container stood open with several crates having spilled out. Dust lay across the floor, along with shards of broken glass. It looked like a wooden pallet had cracked when one of them stood on it, and the crates of dust had spilled out and shattered. An accident, no doubt, but Roman wasn't in the mood.

"Great job! Simply fantastic work." He grabbed the closest faunus by her wolf ear and dragged her in close. "Do you have any idea what that is? Shall I rub your nose in it? That's dust, my dear. Highly volatile and explosive dust!"

Roman lashed out and caught the woman by her jaw, pinching her cheeks with his hand under her chin. Every squeeze of his fingers caused her mouth to open like a puppet. "But Mr Torchwick," he pantomimed, as the faunus struggled to break free. "What happens if I spill the dust? I'm just a dumb little terrorist who doesn't know better."

The faunus glared at him.

Neo chuckled silently, absolutely loving the show.

"Well, my dear, I'm glad you asked!" He released the faunus. "What happens is that those of us without aura – which happens to be all of you – go bye-bye. And those of us with aura have to take a short break to recover, and then spend the rest of the night scraping ash, blood and bits of animal matter off our clothing! And trust me, neither of us want that! This is supposed to be a quick and quiet job." He scowled, planting his hands on his hips. "And while I don't normally like those kinds of jobs, that's only put me in a worse mood than it otherwise would. So, unless one of you chucklefucks is going to manifest something interesting, I suggest you—"

A blade appeared at Roman's throat.

"No one move!"

Neo moved, but only to throw her arms in the air, march over to the nearest container and bang her head furiously against it. No. Just no. This could not be happening. This was a simple job, and Roman was in a simple, professional mood. This had the hallmarks of success all over it.

Or it had before this moment.

"Brothers and sisters of the White Fang!" shouted the faunus behind Roman. "Why are you working with this human?"

"Whoah," said Roman. "Racist!"

Silence descended.

Broken by a splutter from the hostage taker. "I—I'm not racist!"

"I mean, you just expressed surprise as to why faunus would ever work with a human," Roman pointed out. "That sounds pretty racist to me." The girl spluttered and balked, struggling for words. "But I do have one question for you, my dear."

Oh no.

Roman was smiling.

This was meant to be a simple job!

The girl pressed her blade to his throat harder. "Go on."

"What does aura do…?"

"It… It protects us from harm."

"Hmmmm." Roman smiled dramatically. "It suuuure does."

He drove an elbow back and knocked the girl away. Her blade scratched across his neck without cutting skin, leaving not even a thin line. Roman grinned smugly and rubbed his neck, cracking his head from side to side.

"There really is no point trying to take someone with an active aura hostage. I'd have thought a terrorist would know that."

"I'm not—"

"Oh, please. Do you think a bow is going to hide your ears after you drop down and call these idiots `brothers and sisters`." Roman rolled his eyes and posed with his cigar. "So, what is it? Runaway? Sudden conscience? Didn't have the stomach for it? Not that it matters. You've come at a most inopportune time, my dear."

He said that, but he was smiling so broadly and looked so positively thrilled that Neo knew he was thinking this was his Christmas and birthday all rolled into one. This random idiot had turned a boring job into a chance to show off.

And there was nothing Roman liked more than that.

"I suppose we shall have to teach you a little lesson." He pointed. "Get her!"

The White Fang rushed the girl with cleavers and clubs and machetes. Simple weapons that would be as much use to someone with aura as the huntress' own had to Roman. Neo pointed at her, then the faunus, and raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, I know she's a huntress," he quipped. "Not hard to guess when she leapt down in the middle of all this and uses a knife-slash-gun." He watched as a rope lashed out and wrapped around a faunus' leg. "—slash BDSM toy." He chuckled around a cigar and moved aside as a faunus was thrown into the container where he'd been standing. "So, yeah, I know they don't stand a chance."

Then why? Neo asked with her eyes.

"Because it's fun to see them get their asses kicked?"

Neo looked to Roman, looked to the fight, then nodded, and stood next to him against the container. It was kinda fun to see the idiots keep getting up and rushing the huntress like the same tactic that hadn't worked the last ten times suddenly would now. Funnily enough, it didn't. Neo clapped excitedly as the huntress leapt over one and kicked him in the head, using his skull as a springboard to vault onto another and land on them, striking down with a fist to knock them out.

It would have been a lot better if she'd stabbed them, but not everyone could have her way of thinking about things. Neo could appreciate a good old fashioned beatdown as much as anyone else, and she really liked seeing the White Fang of all people suffer. They were just so pathetic! And not even cute-pathetic like a stray dog or cat. Just pathetic-pathetic. Like a kid screaming in a supermarket because it hadn't gotten what it wanted.

Roman spluttered suddenly, and Neo looked up.

Snickered.

Covered her mouth.

There was a banana peel across his face.

"Hey!" shouted a boy's voice. "Don't you think you should be joining the fun?"

Blonde hair, golden abs, blue eyes, golden abs, red staff, and golden abs. Neo raised both eyebrows as she looked the specimen of a faunus up and down. Man, those abs looked hard enough to sharpen Mr Stabby on.

"Don't you think you should put on a shirt," Roman growled, peeling the banana peel off his face and tossing it aside. "I'm feeling cold just looking at you."

"Heh." The huntsman deployed his weapon. "Then maybe you and I can keep one another warm."

Neo's eyes widened.

A thin trail of blood ran from her nose.

Desperately, she took one finger and formed an O, then furiously diddled her other finger through it.

Roman sighed.

The huntsman blushed.

"I didn't mean it like that!"

Really? Ah, crud. And here she'd gotten her hopes up. Neo pouted tearfully and looked up at Roman, but he was in the zone. The bad zone. The flair zone. He sauntered forward twirling his… twirling a single cigar. It lacked the gravitas of Melodic Cudgel, but Roman flicked it up and caught it all the same, then slipped it between his lips and lit it.

"Come try me," he said.

"Heh. You don't even have your weapon!"

The talking abs leapt down from a crane and dashed in, spinning and crashing his staff out, transforming it into twin musket-pistols that fired at incredible speed. The muzzle flashes lit up the abs, but the abs couldn't quite find his way to striking Roman. For all that he was unarmed, Roman deflected every blow at the last second, and was able to parry hits with his wrists so that the shots always whizzed past his head. Always so close that it looked deliberate.

And Neo knew it was. Roman could have disarmed him already, but that wouldn't be as cool.

"Crush a fight from the start and you're a bully. Draw it out and make it look close and you're a badass."

There wasn't a shred of stone-cold Roman left at this point.

Not now that there was a good fight, and a chance to show off at hand.

"How are you better without a weapon than with?" gasped the talking set of abs, as he was kicked back. "Seriously, you're a hand-to-hand fighter who gimps yourself by using a cane!?"

"It's called style, kid." Roman made finger-guns at him. "Look it up."

"How about you look up!"

The faunus shot up at a suspended container and sent it crashing down.

Roman had all the time in the world to leap out the way but, naturally, gasped and waited until it was almost on top of him before jumping back and cutting it so close that the explosion of dust propelled him into a tripe backflip, landing back in a skid by Neo.

She clapped her hands obediently and mimed holding up a scorecard.

"Look up. I like it. The kid has some decent banter on him," said Roman. "Best I've had in a while."

Neo made a throat-slitting motion.

"No. These lot are obviously brats from Beacon. We'd have no chance fending them off if we went too rough and crippled one of them, let alone killed them." Neo rolled her eyes. "You can roll your eyes as much as you like, my dear, but we don't need that kind of hea—"

Neo saw a glint of reflected light and kicked Roman's legs out from under him.

A hole appeared in the container right where his head had been, and orange juice poured out like blood. With a flutter of a cape and red rose petals (of all things – was she like Roman? Had she brought her own rose petals to make an entrance?) a girl leapt off and landed before them, wielding a huge scythe.

"Torchwick!" she howled. "You're under arrest!"

"Oh. Hey Red." He waved from his position on the floor. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

"Hmph! You said that last time! I can stay up late if I want!"

Super convincing.

A Bullhead rose up above the docks with a threatening whirr. Its weapons spooled as the pilot prepared to open fire, and Neo's jaw dropped. This whole place was filled with dust. Did they not—? Of course they didn't understand that! Even Roman looked panicked.

It was almost a relief, then, when something stabbed into the side of it and pulled it off track, yanking the Bullhead down to the ground where it burst into thankfully smaller flames. The pilot was assuredly dead, but Neo would take that over them all being dead.

"No escape this time!" said the girl in red. "This time, I'm the one who brought help!"

"Technically speaking, you brought help the last time too," Roman pointed out. "Glynda Goodwitch? Ringing any bells?"

"Uh. Y—Yeah, bit I beat you without the he—"

"Whoah! Whoah! Whoah! Time-out." Roman jumped to his feet and held his hands out. "Beat me…?"

The scythe dipped. "Well, yeah. I beat you."

"Ahah. No. You didn't beat me."

"You ran away."

"I departed theatrically and handsomely," Roman corrected, sounding much too serious about this. Neo rolled her eyes but didn't bother to intervene. He wouldn't let this go even if she did. "I didn't lose. I made my getaway. When I escape from the police, no one says the police won."

"But… But you ran away from me."

The girl sounded hurt.

"Kid, I ran away from the help that might come. The help that did come. I ran away from Goodwitch. Not from you." Roman watched as the girl's shoulders slumped. He scratched his cheek. "But hey, at least you foiled the robbery, right? And you got into Beacon. Props to you, Red."

Neo slapped a hand into her face and poked him in the side, trying to tell him to stop feeling sorry for their enemy.

Roman misunderstood it.

"Oh, right. You two haven't met. Right?" Roman threw an arm around Neo's shoulders and then snatched the girl's, yanking her in before she could react. "Red, this is Neo. Neo, this is Red. Red, this is fist."

"Hi—Wha—umph!"

Red sailed away from Roman's blow, landing and rolling on her side. Neo clicked her tongue and glared at Roman, knowing for a fact that he could have knocked her clean out if he wanted to but, yet again, he'd held back.

He really was going to be the death of her.

"You tricked me! And it's not Red, it's Ruby! Ruby Rose!"

Roman opened his mouth to speak, only to be drowned out by the most horrific sound they'd ever heard. It was like a million tonnes of air being sucked into a vacuum at once. A green beam of light scythed down through one of their Bullheads, which had been trying to make away with dust, and cut it in two. The two halves of the aircraft exploded and fell into the ocean.

Neo whistled.

Daaaamn.

"Daaaamn," said Roman, putting sound to her thoughts. "That your lot, Ruby?" he asked the panicked girl. "Because, yikes, you just scored yourself a higher body count than me. Congrats on that one."

The girl's silver eyes widened. "It's Red!" she whispered. "Not Ruby. Who's Ruby? Not me. Ruby is in bed because it's her bedtime. She isn't racking up a kill count. Oh, my lord, Penny, this is not what I meant by helping!"

"Heh. Sure it ain't. And here we go!" he teased, as a whole lot more kids appeared around them. Surrounded them. There was an orange-haired one with floating knives, a blonde girl with hair longer than Neo was tall, and a Schnee. Hard not to recognise that one from her whiny music.

Oh, woe is me. I'm super rich and have everything I ever wanted but I'm so lonely. Waa, waa, waa.

The fact that she was here in Vale and not in a business school in Atlas pretty much proved she wasn't as bereft of free will or free choice as her music seemed to suggest. And seriously, imagine singing about being lonely and unable to make your own choices when you had as charmed a life as her.

Cringe.

"Oh look!" mocked Roman. "The whole gang is here. Finished murdering faunus who wanted nothing more than to fight for equality, have we?"

"Murdered? We didn't—" began the cat.

"I have neutralised the terrorists who tried to escape!" chirped the girl with orange hair. "In accordance with Atlas military doctrine!" She smiled brightly. "Atlas does not negotiate with terrorists. You're welcome, friend Ruby!"

Ruby made a choking noise deep in her throat.

"Such a cute little bunch of psychopaths," said Roman, as the assembled teens began to realise that yes, the fight had escalated a little more than they expected it to, and yes, the faunus in that Bullhead were definitely not just `unconscious` and waiting to be arrested.

Being trapped in an exploding aircraft without aura tended to be final.

Even more so when you were cut in half via big fuck-off laser.

"T—That only happened to them because you brought them here," said the one with black hair. "If they hadn't listened to you—"

"Sorry to break it to you, my dear, but I was saddled with them. I was the one who wasn't here by choice."

Roman withdrew a new cigar, set it between his lips and lit it. Neo knew the whole song and dance by now. This was his patented `preparing for battle routine`. A little show designed for the cameras. But there weren't any—

An aircraft flew overhead, and a spotlight shone down on them. A Vale News Network Bullhead circled, cameras recording. Neo clenched her eyes shut and groaned silently. He must have heard it coming. There was no other reason he'd fall back on such theatrics. Ugh. This was meant to be an easy job. Everything had been going so well.

Neo glared at the black-haired one.

A lot of faunus had died tonight. Surely, no one would notice one more.

Surely.

"But—" Roman declared, holding out his cigar in one hand and his lighter in the other. "—you have forgotten the one thing I have that the White Fang did not!"

The lighter fell from his hand.

Down into the dust that had been spilled earlier.

"PRESENTATION!"

The dust lit and raced back to the container, causing it to balloon outward and then explode. It flew up into the air, almost striking the VNN Bullhead. It landed among other containers, which similarly exploded, silhouetting Neo and Roman against a backdrop of fire.

"Also aura," Roman said, voice barely audible over the explosions. "Mostly aura, in fact, but I definitely do have some pretty epic presentation as well."

Fire whooshed over them, cutting them off from the huntsmen-in-training and sending them scattering as they realised the containers they were perched on were about to explode as well. Neo was buffeted by the blasts but her aura held, as did Roman's. Theirs could too, but they weren't 100% sure on that and retreated, giving her and Roman a chance to make a dash through the exploding containers toward the crane the monkey faunus had shot the container off of.

Roman vaulted up to grasp onto that and held his other hand out for her to grab, then vaulted her upward onto the tallest container before climbing up himself. This was Roman at his best, reacting to a serious threat about ten times more effectively than he did to a bunch of police officers.

That was his problem. He found it harder to lessen his strength to not kill police.

And Roman's "fans" wouldn't be quite so vocal if he was a murderer.

Beating a bunch of kids and escaping while humiliating them was stylish and exciting, while harming them was brutally cruel.

To Neo, it made no sense, but that was why made her goofball father-figure so much fun.

Roman launched himself up and caught onto the Bullhead itself, stepping in front of the camera as Lisa Lavender and her entourage gasped in shock. Neo hopped up a little less gracefully, happy to just be out of the chain reactions of explosions going off below.

"R—Roman Torchwick," Lisa Lavender stammered. "Is this a hostage situation now?"

"My dear." Roman posed for her, but mostly for the camera, throwing his coat back and sweeping his cap off his head. "Me taking hostages?" He grabbed the woman's hand and planted a kiss on it. "Why, this would have to be me taking hold of you against your will to count for that. Wouldn't it?"

Lisa Lavender blushed.

On camera.

Neo rolled her eyes.

"Consider this an exclusive interview with yours truly but, ahah, for your own safety perhaps we ought to leave this scene behind. We wouldn't want your crew caught up in the consequences of Beacon's actions." He chuckled. "Those silly kids." Releasing Lisa Lavender, Roman grasped the Bullhead railing and hung out the door. "Farewell kiddos! Keep in mind next time that your foe won't stand around waiting for you to finish monologuing!"

Neo personally thought that the most hypocritical advice Roman had ever given.

A green beam of light flickered.

"Back!" shouted Roman, yanking Lisa Lavender and one of the camera crew out the way right as a green beam slashed through the aircraft and sent it into freefall. Lisa Lavender screamed, clinging to Roman's chest as they went hurtling toward the ocean.

"I thought you said we weren't hostages!" screamed the reporter.

"I didn't mean you were acceptable targets either!" he shouted back, hefting the woman into his arms. Lisa Lavender squeaked. "Worry not. I have you."

Roman leapt out saving Lisa and, importantly, the camera.

Abandoning Neo.

Son of a bitch!

The Bullhead hit the water with an almighty splash, going down just off the docks but a fair distance away from the burning cargo containers. Roman landed gracefully on the ground, still holding Lisa in his arms. The woman looked stunned, embarrassed, and like she'd just escaped death. Which, in all fairness, she might have.

"Kids nowadays are getting rather violent, aren't they?" he teased, standing her up. Lisa staggered and almost fell, but for Roman catching her. "I have you. Worry not, the grand and gentlemanly Roman Torchwick would never leave a fair maiden to sink."

With a splash, Neo crested the water and spat out a great dollop of it, followed swiftly by the remainder of Lisa's crew.

"Ah, Neo." Roman laughed. "I thought you'd have jumped when I did."

Neo opened her mouth to scream at him, only to stutter. Her eyes crossed, nose scrunching up and lungs filling.

"—choooo!"

"Oh dear. Another cold? Well, luckily for you I still have plenty of medicine left over."

Neo sniffled unhappily and smacked the water, trying to get him wet with the spray. The bastard simply stood there, knowing the water wouldn't make it far enough. Neo sneezed again, spraying water back up into her own face.

"And here I thought tonight would be dull." Roman hefted her out the water despite her best efforts to pull him into it. Neo just didn't have the body weight for it. "Well, I'm afraid we must be off. It's been a pleasure, Miss Lavender. I hope you enjoyed your impromptu ride-a-long." He swept off his hat and bowed, a sodden and sullen Neo tucked under one arm like a football. "Until next time!"

He stopped five feet away and then jogged back, jostling Neo under his arm. Roman leaned in close to the camera and used his lip to swivel the cigar in his mouth around.

"Huntsman Silver Cigars," he said. "The gentleman's choice."

He winked, the silver sticker on the cigar sparkling along with his eyes.

Neo thrashed angrily against his side.

/-/

Cinder snarled.

"You assured me that the only way this could go wrong was if the White Fang ruined it, Roman!" Her scroll squeaked in her hand as she crushed it. "I hope you have a good explanation!"

"Actually, Cinder, I do. Turns out after a little digging among the survivors of the White Fang, that my dear interloper tonight – one Blake Belladonna – is, in fact, an ex-member of the White Fang, and that the only reason she interfered at all is because she wanted to catch them in the act. Ergo, if I hadn't been saddled with them, I wouldn't have been interrupted."

His smug voice had her shaking with rage.

"So, on a technical level, one could say the only reason tonight was a failure was because of the White Fa—"

Cinder's scroll lost the battle and crunched in her grip.

Hell hath no fury like a Roman with an opportunity to show off.

Next Chapter: 16th January

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