Viscus stood outside the fourth shop that morning, rejection weighing heavily on his heart. He grit his teeth and walked away, but not before taking one final look at the sign and committing it to memory. This shop was the worst offender of all of them, to the point where he was physically dragged out of the shop for daring to ask for a chance.
"Lee's Arms," it read, and he would be sure to break them the next chance he got. The name on its own nearly brought his head to a boil, but calmness washed over him, as it always would.
He started closest to the heart of Vacuo with Life's Guard and branched out from there, moving in a single direction before the idea of asking for help popped into his mind. He regretted it as the man who offered to help also offered to help lighten his wallet. That same man was lying on top of some trash bags in an alley missing some teeth, and Viscus could only wonder why.
The sun was still hovering above trying to cook the blond, but Aura was versatile enough to protect him from the elements, something that he was thankful for. Together with the everpresent waves of sand, Viscus took a deep breath with a longing to curse the existence of this city for the hundredth time that day.
Sighing, the blond began aimlessly wandering through the area, though Vacuo was in no shape to be called beautiful. Once he was away from the heart where he saw the most amount of color, the buildings turned into large, dull gray monstrosities that Viscus only saw in his school book. To even think about living in such a location brought sheer disgust, and that's even excluding the fact that it was in Vacuo.
The only decorations he saw at the outskirts of Vacuo belonged to shops and buildings that hung colorful signs and lights that awakened at night. A desperate attempt at giving life to a dead city, and Viscus was not impressed.
It had been more than a few hours since he left the hotel, and it was then he decided he might as well grab some food. He wasn't interested in eating microwaved meals - he began feeling sick of them - so he picked out one fast food place with a bright white sign titled "McSchnee."
The windows showed more than a few inhabitants, though these same windows didn't really feature that great of a view to begin with, and once he entered, he was greeted with a color palette of black, white, and blue. The floors were striped with black and white ceramic, too bright for Viscus's eyes, which made him mildly surprised at how clean the shop looked, though the fact that it belonged to one Schnee Dust Company must have required such standards.
As per Vacuo's standard, the cashier was sitting behind the counter while playing on his scroll. The blond helped himself to one of the menus offered on the counter before grabbing himself a seat on one of the blue chairs and briefly admiring the granite table. He refocused himself and began browsing the menu and picking out one burger with no spicy ingredients.
Viscus dreaded eating one of those, a blight on the world they were.
After ordering and reseating himself, he began thinking about how he might find himself a place to employ him, but his mood worsened when he remembered how each one rejected him. One had the help wanted sign outside, a fortunate thing, and they had the audacity to tell him they weren't looking for someone after giving him a look-over.
Another simply refused him for his "Atlesian" appearance, whatever that was. He couldn't truly compare himself with the lack of visitors from other nations, but he could hazard that they made that guess by looking at his skin color. It was drastically different to theirs, and considering the climate that the Atlesians weather, he could assume that's where the similarity came from, but it didn't make the rejection any better.
It was as if Vacuans traded their discrimination for faunus with racism, which wasn't that much better. Not everyone was that way, but he saw how people looked at him weird. Heck, he could even spot one girl taking glances at him while taking slow bites. That gave him shivers.
"So, you know how a building burned down before yesterday?" Viscus overheard a voice from the seat behind him.
"Yeah, wasn't it a fire accident?" That earned a click of the tongue.
"No, man, hasn't anyone told you? Someone managed to find a record for the whole thing from start to finish, and it was brutal," the man paused, and his companion hummed.
"Really? I haven't really seen anything of that sort."
"A friend of mine was there and managed to get the footage and sent it to me. I can show it to you right now," he offered, and his companion audibly reeled in disgust.
"Bro, we are eating right now. If it's all bloody and the like, I'm not interested."
"I can show you later. Though I have to tell you now, if you see someone blond and wearing a white mask, just run."
"Blond like that guy behind you?" Viscus shook at that.
"Kinda, it's not really the same color, but close enough." That made the Gamer sigh, and he began tuning out their voices.
Soon enough, the food came and he dug in, reminiscing at the taste. It wasn't quite the same taste and quality as the establishments in his world, but it would do.
-CEM-
Viscus was at the edge of Vacuo after getting rejected by the 6th shop in total, leaning his head and debating whether to slam it on the wall or not. His anger dissipated into disappointment, and he didn't know whether to feel so at himself or the world. He might as well have given up and went back to Life's Guard - at least they promised to teach him, even if for a price.
The final shop he went to was worn down and looked so terrible that Viscus wondered how it was still afloat. Shelves were barely stocked, floor heavily coated with dust, and a face behind the counter as hideous as the words spewed by it.
He wasn't feeling good after that, the idea of looking for another shop simply demotivating him. It was as if the world was fighting against him, and the people were reveling in it. Regardless of the situation, he couldn't even point out if it was his or their problem.
"Maybe it's the inexperience?" he asked out loud after pushing himself off the wall and patting his hair for the dust. "But that can't be true."
It couldn't have been that all 6 shops desired an experienced person, and it wasn't as if they were hiding the reasons behind their rejections either. They were very direct, and only one, relatively politely, told him off for even trying to enter the market as a complete newbie.
"What should I do?" He walked in a random direction, hoping his brain would form a new plan.
"Could I.. Wait, no. Ugh." He mumbled, and bumped into someone while not looking.
A lady as old as his grandmother struggled to balance herself, nearly falling face first before Viscus hurriedly caught her by the shoulder. He sighed in relief, and made to apologize - at least before she opened her mouth.
"Of course it's an Atlesian. Let me go before I yell for help," she growled, and he took two steps back.
"Look, I'm sorry, didn't mean to bump into you," he tried to calm her down, and it appeared as if she was about to say more before her eyes met his.
"You- Just go away," she huffed, and scurried off faster than a woman her age should have.
Viscus stood in place for a minute, confusion clear on his face along with a frown. This wasn't the first time someone acted this way, and, even if he didn't want to hear more of her berating, it always occurred once their eyes met his. "Is there something wrong with my face?"
It had been some time since he looked at himself in the mirror. He began to suspect Blayne's father's comment on his eyes were more literal than metaphorical, but he couldn't check it before returning to the hotel.
Sighing, he continued on his way, not yet feeling like going back to the hotel, and as minutes passed by, the sun began to set, and with it came lights and lamps all around to take its place.
Once he stopped to look around, he noticed that he was apparently at the very far edge of town, and to his right sat what appeared to be a junkyard with a man kneeling over a mountain of junk with a flashlight in his hand.
"There it is!" Viscus heard him exclaim as he pulled on an item trapped within the mountain.
It was when the man successfully yanked out the item that he sprung back too far to be stable. Rather than drop, the man hung uncomfortably with his body tilted backward at an acute angle while clutching the item up high. He grasped the item close to his heart before moving his head around, spotting Viscus from the corner of his eye.
"H-Hey! Can you help? I'm kinda stuck here."
The Gamer blinked, the picture too surreal for him to comprehend, but he snapped back into reality and rushed to help the man. His first obstacle was actually how to climb up the pile, it looking too unstable and with barely any footholds to begin with. He doubted he could jump that high, though he hadn't tried yet, and he didn't know what to do if he actually could have.
"Man, hurry up! It's not fun hanging like this!" he begged, and Viscus clicked his tongue.
"Can't you just fall? I'm confident I can catch you."
"My foot is trapped, just come up here and help, damnit."
With no other option, the blond took a deep breath and channeled some Mana into his hands, then he stabbed them into the mountain and began climbing that way. It taxed his Mana pool to use it that wastefully, but it was the best he could think of.
Finally, he was at the top of the pile and standing close to the perpetually falling guy. He extended a hand which the other guy grabbed, which allowed him to right himself up before they managed to break the junk's hold onto his leg.
"T-thanks," the man huffed once they were back on the ground, and Viscus nodded.
Taking a deeper look at the place, the Gamer wondered if he could somehow level up his crafting through disassembling junk and the like. It was wishful thinking, so he shook his head and glanced at the man. "You alright?"
"Yes, no, not really. My foot hurts," he grumbled. "I know you're busy, but could you help me to my friends? They're deeper within the yard."
Viscus hesitated, and the man noticed it, "L-look, I'll be indebted to you, okay? Nothing will happen to you, I promise."
The blond's heart ached to refuse the request, so he acquiesced, "C'mon, give me your arm."
Hobbling forward, Viscus's heart beat quicker as the idea that he was being lured into a trap appeared in his mind. He couldn't help but glance at the face beside him, the man groaning with each step, and the blond doubted he was acting. Taking hold of his mind, Viscus pushed on and, after navigating through the "Maze of Junk" (a title he gave to the junkyard), they found themselves at a building just at the back. Its windows were both broken and boarded shut with wood and metal, and in front of it stood two guys chatting with each other.
The moment they saw Viscus and the man, they rushed to assist, taking the man off the blond and bringing him inside. The blond then stood alone, wondering if he should leave now or wait for them to come to him. He heard a scuffle inside as shouting and sound of glass breaking made him wince, but it went back to silence soon after.
As he turned his head to the path outside, two men came outside and moved toward Viscus, one of them distinctly shorter than the blond. They glanced at each other before the shorter guy took a step forward, his dark green hair waving with the air.
"They told me you helped bring Tricky after he was hurt. What's your name?" His emerald green eyes looked into Viscus's brown, though the smile on his face turned into a frown at that.
"Viscus," he replied.
"We're grateful that you came here. Guy was probably going to be left hanging for a few hours had you not come." The other guy said, his hair a gradient from orange at the base to red at the end.
"You're welcome, I guess." The blond didn't quite expect a thanks from anyone in Vacuo, much less from dumpster divers. "I'll go now."
"Wait," he grabbed Viscus's arms as he made to leave. "Come inside, we'll treat you to a drink."
"Uh.. No, thanks for the offer, though?"
"What's with the- oh." It was then the shorter guy said, and Viscus raised his brow.
The blond was prepared to rouse his Mana and fight through them if they forced him inside, if they even could. The taller guy let go of Viscus, however, and the shorter guy looked as if he understood something.
"You're new around here, aren't you? But your eyes speak of a different story," he muttered, as if that was the explanation for everything.
"Okay, Viscus, we're very thankful for your help, and we just want to talk to you," the green haired guy explained. "In Vacuo, we don't forget our debts, if that helps you understand what I'm saying."
"I don't believe you."
Too many times he'd been stabbed in the back after putting even the tiniest amount of trust in someone. He didn't feel like having a repeat of that, and he couldn't bring himself to do so, not in Vacuo.
"Okay, look. They call me Diver, we own this place," he pulled out a piece of paper. "That's my scroll number. If you ever have something you want fixed, we'll be here for you."
Hesitantly, he took the paper and he took a step back. They didn't make any move to follow, and instead headed back inside. Viscus took this as his cue to leave the place, making use of the map feature to navigate through the maze and escaping without issues.
"These guys are weird," he sighed in relief. "At least I did my good deed for the day."
He couldn't risk going inside and getting knocked out and imprisoned again. He had enough of that for a lifetime, and he wouldn't wish it for anyone but his most hateful of enemies.
The walk back to the hotel was uneventful yet felt longer than it should have.
The whole "we don't forget our debts" was also said by Blayne, but it didn't feel right to Viscus. When the same words were said by another completely unrelated person, was it just a coincidence or did they actually mean it? He couldn't decipher it just based on two people's words - for all he knew, it was a trick, honeyed phrases made to lull him into a false sense of security.
The Gamer still couldn't be fully sure of his conclusion. A part of him, a small and weak one hanging by a thread, wished dearly to trust someone, and he couldn't help but look at the situation from another angle. Maybe they were being truthful. Maybe Blayne was truly thankful and tried her best to convince her dad. Maybe that guy, Diver, was also sincere.
His head hurt, but the familiar sight of the hotel receptionist leaning back on his chair and popping bubblegum gave him a sense of stability. This was Vacuo he was thinking about. More likely than not, they weren't as truthful as they could have been.
"Yeah, can't trust them," and it made sense, too.
"I'll look for other places to work at tomorrow. There has to be a shop that would accept," and he had to believe in that lest he gave up on that idea.
Where else would he learn how to make weaponry and utilize the various machines? It was his only option, and he would do his best to achieve it. And at some point in the future, he would go back on his hunts, though he'd have to be careful.
If the two men that sat behind him were to be believed, then there were videos circulating of the raid and recording him escaping.
"Though, they will probably forget about me by tomorrow. This is Vacuo, after all," he scoffed, and entered his hotel room.
Some things wouldn't change, however. He would train and practice his abilities, at least the ones he could. Thankfully, [Meditation] provided a big enough boost for him to constantly be on the grind, and it also had a side effect of giving him better insight into his [Mana Vision] and [Mana Heart], so he would have an easier time practicing them enough to raise their efficiency.
His plan was clear, and he would start as soon as possible. By soon, he meant after a cup of coffee.
That was a luxury he wasn't willing to skip.
Not everything is going to plan, but he is more resilient than that.
Pasta won't lie, I had prepared a 700 words AN to explain some of my frustrations and clear some things up, but I think it's going to do more harm than good.
Briefly, I just want to ask you to have some reviewer etiquette. I understand that there are weaknesses to Dragged Along, but there are other ways to explain your point of view. I remember hearing somewhere something like "Why say the truth harshly when you can say it kindly," so I hope you could keep that in mind whenever you review, even out of Dragged Along.
Up till now, I haven't written a single chapter that doesn't contain "meat," if you get my meaning. There is always something happening, and it happens for a reason, I can promise you that.
The most important part that I wanted to warn you about was the very apparent topic of discrimination present in this chapter. I hope it doesn't rub you the wrong way, and I'm not doing it just because. Remnant is a very distraught place, filled with conflict that includes the White Fang and faunus discrimination. I imagine Vacuo doesn't function that way, with them having different rules and culture, and the effect of the Great War still has a big effect on the populace, though not everyone thinks the same way (like normal human beings).
I love RWBY, Remnant, Viscus, and Vacuo, and I'm trying my best to treat the world with the respect it deserves. This is not supposed to be an AU, otherwise I would have mentioned it in the description. Rather, it's Viscus in Vacuo a while before canon, and he's far enough to have as minimal effect to the canon as possible.
I understand that this chapter might push you off the story, and, while it saddens me, I can understand your reasoning. All I can say is that this is not made to reflect reality or anything of such. What happens in the story, stays in the story.
Pasta would like to assure you that I read reviews and treasure them dearly, so when a negative review pops up, I try to see its point of view before dictating whether it's constructive or unreasonable.
So, don't hold back your reviews, but be nice, please?
I really don't want to keep writing long ANs, because I want to have my story speak for itself.
In any case, thank you for your time. Next chapter is being prepared and will come soon-ish, so stay tuned.