Chapter 5: Tickets to Ride
Author's Note: Working towards that M-rating, as if I was not before
BRAZEN
"You could try and claim that bounty on me, but there's three problems. First, the border to Atlas and thereby the SDC is closed, so you would never get the full money anytime soon. Typical of the SDC to avoid paying people for working for them." Dominic said, the mouth under his mask a thin smile after he finished responding to the humans' initial demand for him to throw down his weapons and come 'quiet-like, as an animal should'.
"Second, you're so far out of your league the situation is comical," stated Bedlam, stepping out into the roadside from the forest with Blush and Wilt drawn. He stood beside his brother.
"Wait, which one of them is the real one Henry?" Called the heavyset man with the long moustache, "do you reckon we'd get twice the payout if we get 'em both?"
"The one with the mask, idiot!"
"I don't want to be that guy who thinks all faunus look the same but I'm having actual issues telling these two apart mates!"
"Keep yer weapons steady boys, we're going to haul both of these faunus terrorists in for the bounty! We still outnumber the bastards six to two!" The human who was apparently named Henry ordered. He seemed overly confident in himself and his posse, but the Trio had heard them stomping along the road a mile away; they had backtracked a bit to set up the ambush. When armed and in a group, humans tended to think that nothing could challenge them: something about holding a weapon did that to their inferior brains.
"I'm the third reason." Brazen stated calmly as he finished sneaking around the humans to put his sword through the throat of the tall thin one at the back, who slumped to the ground listlessly. As the remainder of the posse spun around to address the new threat Brazen's siblings sprung forward, twin Blushes shooting in perfect alignment while their blades whirled forward to bludgeon separate targets. Moustache and Henry fell as the swords hit them forcefully in the chest, knocking each of them prone while the blades bounced back to their respective wielders. Another human's chest exploded from the impact of Dominic's barrage, their weak aura withstanding a single blast before shattering, while Bedlam's target had managed the presence of mind to focus his shimmering yellow aura against the bullets. That kept him from dying like his comrade.
That was alright. Bedlam sliced at him with his returned sword, making the man's aura sputter and shatter away, leaving him open for Brazen to shoot him twice in the back of the knees. He made a delightful howl of pain as his upper body suddenly fell down, impaling his own dismembered shins with the jagged bones protruding from the bottom of his thighs. Dominic had gotten into a melee with the one who had been wielding the axe, easily avoiding her wide swings and chipping away at her aura like a fencer.
"If you lay down your weapons now, we'll take you in alive rather than dead!" The axe-wielder cried. Brazen assumed she had failed to notice that half her allies had already fallen to the trio, but she seemed to be overly confident in her own abilities. Perhaps she had a semblance that she felt could even the odds? If she had a semblance, it certainly had nothing to do with battlefield awareness.
Brazen disengaged 'Stumpy' and refocused his rifle on the woman. Dominic darted in and chipped at her aura again before leaping back a meter while the human began her tediously broadcasted swing. Brazen took the opportunity to fire four shots into her back, the last of which shattered the remains of her aura. Whatever semblance you have, it won't work if you don't have any aura to fuel it. Dominic shot him a deprecating frown, and Brazen knew that his brother felt that he had ruined the sport of his little duel. Brazen shot him back an annoyed shake of his head. We don't have time to play! I have a burly giant to catch before he leaves Mistral!
Bedlam was now engaged with Moustache and Henry, who had rolled onto their feet and started firing at him with their pistols. Bedlam deflected Henry's shots with Wilt while avoiding Moustache's flanking fire. Moustache, taking stock of the body count that the Adams had amassed in the span of a handful of seconds and seeing that Bedlam was charging at his leader, decided that discretion was preferable to valour and began running back the way they had come once his pistol ran out of ammunition. He passed within two meters of Brazen, and Brazen saw tears in the man's eyes as he struggled to justify his retreat to himself as a telltale squelching noise indicated Bedlam's sword being plunged into Henry's chest.
Dominic went and disarmed the woman of her ridiculously cumbersome axe; she found herself unarmed, defenceless and alone against the most wanted faunus in the kingdom. At which point she wisely offered her overdue surrender by throwing her hands up in the air and going very still.
Brazen calmly walked over to Stumpy and rammed Wilt through his neck to put an end to his blubbering.
"Are we taking prisoners?" Asked Dominic, "or are we offering this wretched human her freedom in exchange for services?" He kept Wilt aimed at the woman, who had the presence of mind to not move anything other than her beating heart, lungs, and swallowing as the fragility of her existence set in. "Or are we going with... option three?"
"You two deal with her. I'll be right back," Bedlam said. He dashed after the fleeing fat human, who despite his appearance had impressed Brazen with his speed: already he was a solid fifty meters away.
Bedlam caught up to him with ease.
The woman had tears streaming down her face as she listened to her fifth companion become a pin cushion for a red blade, but she was facing the wrong direction to actually watch it happen. Brazen thought that that was a shame, since it may have made intimidating information from her that much easier. Or just reduced her to a blubbering mess, he considered, but she seemed to be somewhat battle-seasoned. No doubt she had slain a fair number of petty grimm over the years. She had handled her axe almost as well as some of his dead lieutenants had used their weapons. I'm not sure if that is a compliment to her or an insult to them.
As Bedlam began walking calmly back to the rest, wiping his blade clean before restoring it to its sheath with a big smile on his face, Brazen moved forward and looked at the woman. She did not meet his gaze and found something fascinating to occupy her attention near her feet.
"So. You thought that the six of you would be enough to take me down?"
The woman said nothing.
"You thought that my crusade against humanity could be stopped by a bunch of poorly armed, badly trained...whatever you were?" Dominic asked rhetorically.
The woman said nothing.
"What made you decide to throw your lives away?"
The woman was silent for a moment, but then her eyes focused on Brazen. Then her eyes darted to Dominic's blade pointed at her, then back to Brazen. "We weren't out here wanting to run into the likes of you." Her voice hung on that last word for a moment, beginning as a sneer until she remembered her place. "There were reports of a grimm migration. They said migration, I don't know what it was. Some locals reported seeing grimm suddenly coming out this way en masse. Word spread that a swarm of lancers were in the middle of attacking a homestead when they just... they just left to come out here. So we were sent out to see why they would do that. We talked to the people from the homestead, then followed the direction the grimm had gone to scout it out. We were just scouting grimm. Henry was the one who was in put in charge by the mayor. Henry saw you coming down the road and recognized you and told us we'd be heroes. We all heard of what you did in Vale. What you tried to do in the city."
Brazen and Dominic exchanged glances. Brazen went to Henry's corpse and lifted a pair of binoculars off of it.
"Nobody's ever heard of the grimm retreating from a fight like that before. Not when they were winning, not when there were still people to kill," the woman added.
Bedlam returned to the group, [the relic responsible for that] he signed, indicating that he had heard the conversation.
[Sounds like the grimm came from all around to get me], Brazen returned with his own gestures. The woman looked terrified and confused, not understanding. [So what do we do with her?]
"So what do we do with you now, human?" growled Dominic, bringing the blade a finger's length away from her sternum.
"Please, let me go. Don't kill me. I'll never be mean to faunus again! I wasn't mean to faunus before! I love faunus! I have faunus friends! Faunus are great! Just as good as humans!"
"Faunus are better than humans, you pathetic wretch." The sword was now a fingernail away from her skin, lighting gently upon the top of her blouse. Her attire revealed a generous amount of skin, more than most huntress outfits, glistening with sweat from the combat and tears as they spilled down her cheeks. "Take comfort that it is not my goal to exterminate your reprehensible species, but to repair the natural order of this world so that humans serve the faunus, the superior species."
Brazen interjected a new question, if only to head off what he knew would be a long rant about faunus superiority; every Adam present would love to wax poetic about their life goals when given the stage, but Dominic had the least time sensitive mission, so he was more likely than the other two to take that stage. Now is not the time to be monologing to the human captive about our goals for world conquest, Dom! "What kind of grimm were you chasing? Just the lancers?"
"No. There were all sorts, according to the reports, crawling out of every crook and cranny where they wait in the wilderness." The woman replied, her eyes now firmly on the sword pointed at her chest, "beowolves, beringel, lancers, everything grimm in the region just abandoned whatever they were doing to go south this way."
"How far to the nearest town and what is its name?" Bedlam inquired, his tone sounding almost bored. They knew that there was a human settlement some distance down the road, but had never been there to deal with its rampant discrimination issues because to do so would have made it easier for the authorities to locate the White Fang's secret base. Still, an easy question to answer calmed the woman down and would make her feel better talking. Her eyes lifted away from the sword and focused on Bedlam, then darted between the three captors and the look in her eye spoke that she was confused as to how there were three identical faunus in front of her.
Letting her live to tell the tale about 'me' being 'us' is going to be a problem, Brazen knew.
"Ilhari hamlet, just a few hours along the road and past the homestead I mentioned," she said, then after a moment she forgot her situation and pleaded, "don't go there. Turn around and leave Mistral, a monster like you doesn't deserve to live on the same soil as goodly honest people. We gave you Menagerie. You have full rights in Vacuo. Isn't that more than a murderer like you deserves?"
"Your people know nothing of what I deserve!" The trio shouted at her, and the blade sunk into her heart. Brazen pursed his lips, hmmmm, perhaps that was not the best course of action. On the other hand, we are not equipped to keep a human prisoner. Letting her go free would only give the government an idea of where he was. His mission might not be harmed if Cinder or Hazel knew where he was haunting, but Dom and Bedlam would have an easier time chasing their leads for a while if the group ran silent.
"But they will, if they live long enough to participate in our new world." Dominic said as he watched the woman slip silently to the ground as blood flowed in thin rivulets from her gaping mouth.
It was for the best that it ended like this, Brazen concluded, and the three of them nodded their heads. Their thoughts aligned on this.
"Well, at least we know the name of the town we're heading to," Bedlam quipped nonchalantly. "Might have been nice to ask what sort of defences they had left behind to come out to scout."
Dominic cleaned his blade slowly, pondering their situation if his small pout was any indication. "We will go to that homestead first. We shall take clean, unsullied clothes from whoever resides there. Once our identity as Adam Taurus is suitably concealed from casual onlookers, we shall make our way back to Mistral proper, where our plans will progress as we discussed."
Brazen and Bedlam nodded along in agreement. It was a solid plan that they would have suggested themselves if Dominic hadn't taken the lead in the scene.
"What should we do about the bodies?" Bedlam asked.
Brazen and Dominic looked at him, attempting to regard their brother incredulously, for a moment that stretched into several. "Leave them for the animals, of course," they responded with as much indignation as they could muster, trying to appear stern while purposefully misinterpreting his concern as if it was for the dignity of the bodies themselves, "these humans attacked me. It is not my responsibility to deal with their poor life choices. None of them were faunus."
Bedlam sighed, then kneeled beside Henry and began rifling through the corpse's many pockets, "I meant who is searching which for valuables."
Brazen and Dominic laughed, "we know what you meant." Brazen kept laughing, while Dominic continued, "just search whichever ones you finished off." With that, he started searching through the woman for anything that would be useful on their journey and Brazen made his way over to Stumpy. Brazen started assessing the clothes the men had worn. Well, I can't use these pants, he thought as he looked at the slurry of bone and tendon soaking in blood that was once a knee. Nothing useful for hiding his identity.
"Ugh, yeah, that's a fine rule but I'm not the one who let lardbutt run all the way down the road," Bedlam complained. Brazen laughed; he certainly could have prevented the human from running past him. Bedlam gave him a frown before heading back down the path to search Moustache.
After a minute of searching it became apparent that the humans had decided not to fill their pockets with lien before heading out on a dangerous scouting mission against grimm. They did have a handful of granola bars and a water canteen each, which to the foraging trio was more valuable. Once they had devoured the edibles and relieved their ever-present thirst they began walking down the road once more, now fed, watered, and in possession of information and a set of binoculars.
It took them less than half an hour to get to the homestead. Walking through the gate of the homesteaders' property, which was a crossed sword design with the blades pointed down to the ground and a stylish crown above the gate with the name 'Shiko Farm' engraved on the crown, the Adams walked confidently to the house proper. All over the ground outside were signs of a grimm attack: gouges in the sides of buildings, shattered windows, and so forth. There was also tire tracks in the dirt, but no vehicle which indicated at least some of the survivors were not present.
The door had been locked, but Brazen managed to find a 'key'. It was in his boot. He kicked down the door. This is my foot key, it lets me get into wherever I need to go.
"Mistral police! Is anyone home?" Brazen shouted into the lobby. The three of them waited for a moment.
[Breaking down door, then calling out police?]
[Good job]
I don't need to take this abuse, Brazen thought. "Oh cheer up, I think we all knew we have the place to ourselves. Who leaves anyone behind after surviving a grimm attack?"
"The SDC," replied his brethren.
Brazen took off his mask and narrowed his eye at them.
They're not wrong.
"Whatever," he walked into the house's kitchen, rolling his eye dramatically, "I'll check out the basement and you two go upstairs. Look for anything we can eat that isn't on the SDC's list for animal/faunus employee feed, also disguises and stuff. We won't be able to show off Wilt and Blush, either, so rig up something to tie it to your back so that we can use Wilt if we get in a scrap by launching it up along our neck." Brazen went downstairs to the cellar, which had a room with "Nadir's Nadir" on it. Inside was a bedroom for a young teenaged boy, with posters of human celebrities, weapon and SDC dust catalogues on a desk, and a few pamphlets for Haven on the floor. It seemed Adam had found the room of an aspiring huntsman. He would give the room the respect it was due.
He tore through everything in a search for clothes that fit him, lien, or valuables. After ten minutes of carelessly destructive rummaging, he walked back up the stairs to the kitchen in his new outfit. "You guys still alive upstairs or did you merge?"
"We're still working on his outfit!" One of them yelled. It occurred to Brazen that he had absolutely no idea which one of them had actually responded. He rifled through the fridge, taking out the elements of a garden salad which he began preparing for the three of them. Maybe I should start talking with a sexy accent or something. It seemed like a lot of work, though, and what kind of payoff was there other than for the rare occasion past their eventual divergence in Mistral to follow their assigned paths when they would actually be in contact with one another?
"What do you think?" Bedlam asked as he came down the stairs. He was wearing a large hoodie over his original clothes, with a pair of large, aviator sunglasses that adequately hid his branded eye. With his hood drawn up over his head to conceal his signature red hair and horns, it was as good a disguise as Brazen's had ended up being. Bedlam did a slow spin to show off his new appearance, before looking up and down Brazen, "never mind. I don't think either one of us know a single thing about fashion."
"What's wrong with my look?" Brazen retorted. He felt like the clothes he had acquired were more than suitable: a long flowing silk robe with a generous hood that covered his entire face. "Yours is fine, too. The sunglasses are cool..."
"Are you sure those are... boys clothes?" Bedlam asked, "I mean, that is a really intricate floral design and seems to really cling to your body."
Since when was Adam ashamed of his own body? "The room I took these from seemed to belong to a teenaged huntsman wannabe. Why would he have girls clothing in his room? That doesn't make any sense at all."
"Whatever. It's not like we have Blake's sense of fashion to do this." Bedlam waved his hand, accepting their disguises as the best they could do with the resources they had at their disposal, "I mean, we pretty much wore one of three outfits for the past twelve years, whatever Blake liked seeing us in." Bedlam sat himself down at the table and grabbed a plate of salad, digging into the meal and silencing himself.
"Then I'm fine with leaving that look behind now that I'm done with her."
"Is there any coffee down there?" Dominic called from upstairs.
Brazen checked, and reported that there was.
"Bring me up a pot of hot water and some coffee grounds!" Brazen looked at Bedlam, who shrugged and kept eating. Brazen sighed and started heating up some water in a dirty pot.
"Give me a minute to do up the water." Brazen resigned himself to watching a pot of water boil. Bedlam finished his lunch when bubbles began forming on the bottom of the pot, at which point he went to the front door.
"I'll keep a lookout here."
Brazen took the pot of boiling water upstairs, where he found himself naked in the bathroom with clothes scattered all over the floor.
"Okay, so I found this hat," Dominic said, holding up a battered fedora, "to hide my horns, but my hair would still be red and I couldn't find another decently sized hoodie like Bedlam for hiding that. So I thought I'd just dye my hair! I remember hearing that coffee grounds mixed with hair shampoo can be..." Dominic stopped talking as his unmasked eyes trailed up and down Brazen.
"Are you sure those are... boys clothes?"
Brazen sighed. "No." He was going to count Dom and Bedlam as a single opinion on how he looked. "They were in a boy's room."
"Alright." Responded Dominic, "and even if it sounds narcissistic, I want to say it shows off how nice a body we have."
Like he's one to talk, sitting there naked in the bathroom with my muscles on full display. "Here, hot water, coffee, do your thing and come down for lunch so we can get back on the road."
Dominic nodded, taking the ingredients for his cosmetic experiment. Brazen surveyed the remainder of the clothes in the room. One of their shirts had been cut into shreds; apparently Bedlam had taken Dominic's original shirt after making his blindfold out of his version. The fedora sat next to the sink, and a black trenchcoat was piled in the shower.
"So black pants, black hair, black leather trenchcoat, hat... are you sure you didn't want some tasteful chains? We could replace Wilt with a whip. Leather gimp mask?"
"I'm going to look cool! Plus there is one other part of it in the master bedroom I found that really ties it all together!"
"Ah, relax, I'm just messing with you. If I'd seen that sort of stuff I'd have grabbed it, too."
"Bedlam is still hung up on keeping his original clothes, something about an attachment to Blake."
"You guys will understand when she comes back with me! She'll see that I still value her, from her masculine fashion choices to everything else about her, so that my offer to let her come crawling back to me is genuine!" Bedlam shouted up from downstairs, faunus hearing making private conversations difficult. Brazen and Dominic rolled their eyes; both of them shared a look that expressed that each did honestly hope that Bedlam was successful in his task, but Blake felt like a toxin that they had just had removed from their systems.
"You know, I always said I was saving myself for Blake."
"I didn't even look at any other girls since I met her all those years ago."
"I didn't look at anyone else that way."
"Maybe myself in the mirror." Brazen said, drawing closer to Dominic. "If only to make sure that I looked good enough for Blake."
"It was always about Blake," Dominic's words made a zephyr as they brushed past Brazen's ear, "but it isn't anymore. Not for the two of us up here."
Brazen realized how close they were. Physically. Mentally. He wondered how much closer they could be when they had separate bodies.
BEDLAM
Bedlam waited in the doorway, keeping watch for signs of trouble coming their way, but almost immediately became bored. It seemed like Brazen and Dom were going to be a while upstairs, so he considered wandering around the grounds. May as well, he reasoned, if trouble comes for us, doesn't matter I if I shout out a warning from the lawn instead of the entrance way.
He moved to a small garden of flowers, which seemed to be an afterthought planted after space had been prioritized for the much larger tracts of vegetable plants. It was the infancy of autumn, and the area was full of ripe squash, tomatoes and pea vines. Fortunately for the inhabitants, it appeared that most of the damage to the farm had been directed to the dirt driveway, area in front of the property on the road, and the fence. I wonder how many lancers they were able to defeat before the swarm sensed us.
He plucked a tomato from its vine, and ate it.
It was sweet. It was juicy. Bedlam didn't care. Food was food, whether it was a delicious banquet set for the Schnee family or the dog food given to the children in the mines. It was all just fuel for his endless fight. A fight he'd been brought into by the Belladonnas.
Bedlam stood there in the garden, surrounded by a pastoral paradise, and a tear moved unbidden down his cheek. Here he was in the midst of Remnant's natural beauty and it meant nothing to him. His thoughts always turned to Blake. What would Blake think of this place? Would Blake like this salad?
She was a curse that weighed down his soul, made his life intolerable. Because of Dai, he was now destined to be the same thing for her. It wasn't right. Nothing about their relationship as it was was healthy. Why did she have to come into my life? I would have been better off if she had never approached me. I would have been better off if nobody had ever seen my face after I put on that mask. Blake ruined everything for me.
He had devoted himself to making the world safe for his people. For Blake. For himself. For the family he had hoped to make, avoiding the mistakes of his parents. He had not loved anyone but Blake. He had not even loved himself, in the way that hormone-ridden young boys sometimes do.
Everything he did was grounded in what had been done to him in the past. Each action was revenge for pain inflicted on him. His semblance was his shield: something that kept him from feeling the pain and let him enact justice on those who would hurt him. His semblance kept the pain away. His semblance kept the world away.
He looked at the garden around him.
His semblance kept everything away. His semblance dulled the pain. Is it even possible for me to feel happiness, or would my semblance dull that, too? The thought frightened Bedlam. What if his tortured existence had been the byproduct of a subtle side-effect of his semblance?
Most regular people refused to unlock their aura. Huntsmen with powerful semblances would shake their heads at the civilians who refused to protect themselves. They did not understand the pain endured by those with negative semblances. Semblances like Blake's, which did nothing but encourage her to run and hide from life's problems rather than fighting for what she believes in. Semblances that could not be turned off. All those times I unlocked a recruit's aura, telling them that it was what was best for the faunus. That their strength was needed in full to fight for those who could not. The White Fang was not a Huntsman Academy, but I made it force people to accept the risk of semblance like the arrogant humans I stood up against. I understand the hesitation to unlock aura. I understand the people who refused to even teach their children anything about aura, for fear of the burden.
He wondered if Sienna had understood what she was burdening him with when she unlocked his aura.
In all fairness to Moonslice, Adam had never considered his semblance a curse even though he knew that many semblances did make life wretched for their souls; sometimes the mere possession of a powerful semblance was curse enough, in the responsibility to serve the greater good it brought with it. Moonslice had always been a tool that let him serve the faunus, be the sword for their crusade against human cruelty. Why was he thinking about the toll it took on him now? Was it because of the Relic? Did his focus on leading the White Fang keep his thoughts from considering what the cost had been to him as a person, dedicating himself to being the saviour of his species? Would his choice-clones understand, or would their continued pursuit of retribution, contrary to his own search for resolution, blind them to the obvious truth of their shared sorrow?
It's not even worth thinking about. My semblance is a part of me, and without it I would not have survived to be here today. Whatever didn't kill me has made me stronger. Whether or not I would have been happy with it locked is not productive course of thought. No faunus were happy in the employ of Jacques Schnee's SDC.
Without my semblance, I would have never met Blake. I would never be able to fix the world for her. Without Moonslice, I will never be able to force her back to my side where she belongs.
He wiped his face on the sleeve of his hoodie. By the time his brothers emerged from the house, Dominic wearing a full black ensemble consisting of a trenchcoat, hat, dyed black hair, and a stylish eye-patch, Bedlam greeted them with a smile. "You finally about ready to go?" he complained, to which Brazen quipped that he had been "so hungry that he'd eaten food enough for three." Bedlam gave a laugh at the joke, which Dominic joined in on. The three of them left the homestead and walked down the road towards the human hamlet of Ilhari, disappointed that there had not been a spare vehicle left behind for them to steal. Bedlam took point with the pair walking in stride a few meters back, side by side. Bedlam's eyes were dry, his mind was clear and his resolve was stoic.
After all, his semblance dulled the pain.
DOMINIC
Ilhari was a small walled settlement, little more than a palisade built around some general stores, service centres, a tavern for travellers and the train station for fast travel to the big city. Three patrols of armed human guards moved in pairs around the perimeter, with a few more stationed at the gate and the train station. Dominic knew this because he was in the process of buying a train ticket from the automated vending machine. Their appearance and bearing, on par with any group of seasoned professional huntsmen, had gotten them through the gate without so much as a second glance.
The fact that they had concealed their identical weapons on their backs also made the humans feel more at ease.
It's not like any of them were grimm, which seemed to be what the talk of the town was at the moment. The populace was curious about the strange activity that the scouting party had gone forth to investigate, but few were yet concerned about their return. Dominic had seen one small child at the gate that evaded the otherwise plenary disinterest, who had asked if they had seen his father on the road.
Dominic had deigned not to respond, but he knew the child would not see his father again. When you fight, people get hurt. Adam had declared war on humanity and he was willing to see the consequences of his handiwork. There would be many orphans on both sides before his revolution was finally over. He would save his guilt for the faunus who had to fall, never the humans.
"Tickets for three, Mistral City," Dominic stated as he entered the travel information to the terminal, the three of them having agreed that it was too risky to steal a car with the area on high alert, so they'd just ride the train to the city. "Next train leaves in four hours, and goes out to Kuchinashi before making its way to Mistral, though that is still faster than walking back. Should we just wait here for the train to arrive?"
"That seems to be the safest course of action," said Brazen, who's hood-shadowed face turned to regard the nearest human guard. His hands moved as he spoke, [maybe a good time to buy supplies or get information].
"I'd like to go spend some time in town seeing what's for sale, brother," Bedlam chipped in, reading the signs. The trio withdrew from the train station, where they found a more agreeable lack of armed humans.
"I am uncomfortable with this length of metal on my back." Brazen complained, out of earshot of locals.
"Deal with it," his brothers retorted under their breath, not that they were any more comfortable not having Wilt in its usual place at their hips. At least their clothes were a bit looser fitting; Brazen's fashion pick made it hard to not notice he had something stuffed down his leg from his back. Or maybe Dominic was an exceptional case? Maybe other people were not checking out Brazen's backside as much as he was. Bedlam's gaze was searching through the surrounding stores. Suddenly Bedlam focused on Dominic.
"You okay back there Dominic?" he asked with real concern in his voice, "you're walking funny."
"Fine, I'm fine!" Dominic responded, loudly enough that a few passerby spared him a look.
Brazen turned around, too, "let's hit the tavern. Best place to hear local news." They made their way to the tavern, and Dominic kept his eyes off his closest twin.
It was a cliched plan, but the three heroes went to the local tavern dubiously named The Cracked Mug. Every corner was occupied by a figure draped in a dark cloak, weathered grey hands the only indication that there was a living being within the folds of the cloth, no doubt waiting for a party of naive imbeciles to enter looking for the beginnings of a grand quest. At the bar sat a skinny young adult human man who looked so drunk it was likely that he had not left his seat since seeing the attack on Haven, several days prior, covered by the news program playing on the tiny television suspended behind the bar. The grizzled bartender had the look of an ex-huntsman and gave the three newcomers a moment of scrutiny before returning his attention to cleaning a flagon with a filthy rag. A buxom human woman served the two occupied tables, three large men at each playing cards and enjoying drinks.
If I was alone, I would sit at the bar, Dominic thought. The three of them all took seats at the bar, Bedlam on one side of the drunk and Dominic on the other side as Brazen took the last spot adjacent Dominic.
"What'll you lot take?"
"Nothing too heavy, a light ale. We intend to be travelling in a few hours," Bedlam requested.
"Information and local gossip to appease our curiosity for the vapid or mundane, if there is any." Hopefully something more tangible than 'the grimm are acting strange'.
"No need for us to end up like this one," Bedlam gestured at the drunk between them, who didn't mind the new arrivals if he noticed them at all.
"Farsigan's harmless, in fact he's downright chipper." The bartender replied, "he inherited a small mine down south, but business there couldn't compete with the SDC. He always blamed labour issues for his financial losses."
The drunk, Farsigan, began to giggle in a high pitch, "SDC ain't gon' be-" he hiccupped loudly, "gon' be doin' well in Mistral no more!"
The other four at the bar waited for a moment, only to be rewarded with the drunk's head falling unceremoniously to the wood surface beside his partially finished drink. The human was unconscious.
Shrugging, the bartender took it upon himself to finish his inebriated patron's elaboration upon the state of the SDC in the present political situation, while fixing three flagons of ale for the newcomers; "since that group from Menagerie saved Haven Academy, a lot of well-to-do folks have put more support into faunus rights movements. Hell, I even took down that sign and am willing to let the animals drink at my bar now. With all that happening, the SDC can't bring in their not-slave-labour-but-as-close-as-legally-possible workers from Atlas to mine their claims here, so that puts them on pretty even footing with the local mining concerns. Even the smaller ones like Farsigan. Farsigan just got a loan from the bank to restart his mine: the claim was still his, but he had to shut the active operations down a year ago."
"I's lookin' fer new employees. Fair wages, faunus welcome, close to a town!" Farsigan elucidated from his dignified position of resting his head in a small pool of his own sweat, vomit, and drool.
"I'm not looking for work," the three Adams said in unison, which earned them a raised eyebrow from the barkeeper as he handed them their drinks. He spent an extra moment looking at Brazen, before shrugging his shoulders and going back to grab another glass to clean with his filthy rag.
If the local health inspector was a faunus, then his racist sign was probably the only thing protecting this place from being shut down. A hole gnawed into the wall where it met the floor indicated the presence of a rodent infestation, and cockroaches were not absent from the liquor shelves behind the bartender.
"So what else is happening in town? We've heard enough about a spat of strange grimm activity, what else is going on around these parts?" Dominic inquired.
"Ah, you heard about the funny business with the grimm, eh? I reckon we're all so darn cheerful it forced them away." The man said, ignoring the tacit instruction to avoid talking about the grimm, "other than that, things have been nice and quiet here in Ilhari. Which is good, because our registered huntsmen both went missing last month on a mission. With the academy in shambles, I doubt we'll have anyone graduating to replace the loss in the near future. With that in mind, having the grimm retreat from our borders rather than taking advantage of a precarious situation is a sure blessing for us honest folk."
The Adams nodded, agreeing with the man's reasoning.
"I'm hopeful that the students who were about to go to Haven make it back to Mistral once their done training: those that are still looking for education are mostly heading to Shade Academy in Vacuo," he continued, shaking his head morosely at the thought of his people's protectors abandoning their country in its time of need, taking refuge in the territory of their erstwhile rival nation.
Mistral, a land of culture and law, was very much the opposite of Vacuo, a desert composed of brigands and an amalgamation of folks who didn't fit in anywhere else. I always wanted to go to Vacuo, Dominic thought, remembering long-abandoned plans to escape the SDC and make a new life for himself in the nation where anybody was accepted if they managed to survive the harsh desert. That was before I was found by the White Fang, back when my criminal activities were firmly rooted in acquiring enough lien to get myself and my comrades out of Mantle. I would have done well in Vacuo. I survived the dust mines. I could handle a desert. At least I'd be out in the light all the time.
What he had heard of Vacuo had transformed the country into his idea of paradise: a place where the strong thrived, unencumbered by the horns on their head or the past they had lived. Always sunny. Always warm.
Bedlam and the bartender had started a conversation about the hamlet's plan to expand the palisade wall, make room for more houses for soldiers and businesses, to take advantage of the grimm's strange behaviour whilst the humans were able. Lay a stronger claim on the lands that had been lost to the grimm after the Great War.
"I bet there's many a faunus from the city that would be willing to move out here, if you make it known that there is equality to be found for them."
"Ah, that's a pretty liberal way of looking at things. I don't want to be all chummy with the animals, that's just not my way. I still remember growing up surrounded by war veterans who'd been savaged by the beasts in combat. I'll welcome their lien, though. I'm sure the mayor is thinking along the same lines as you, boy."
Brazen hadn't said a word outside of affirming that he was not looking for work. I think he realized at some point that he is wearing a girl's hooded kimono. His brother was taking care to only drink when the bartender's attention was not anywhere near his end of the line, to better conceal his face. Dominic's focus turned to his drink.
I had a dream of living by my wits and strength in Vacuo, a long time ago, Dominic recalled, when did that dream go away?
Bedlam and the bartender were talking about the mayor, who Dominic overheard had been elected seven years ago and kept the position since without opposition to his authority. A capable bureaucrat, it seemed.
I think my dream of fleeing to Vacuo ended the day I met Sienna. I think my dream died the moment she unlocked my aura, or maybe when I discovered Moonslice and saved Ghira's life during that skirmish with those humans. The moment he had realized the power he had, Sienna had showered him in praise, convinced him that he had a responsibility to use it for the betterment of their people, that he was destined to be a hero. He had agreed. He had the power to make the humans pay for what they had done. He didn't deserve to be forced into living in squalor in the desert.
With power like his, he could deliver his people from bondage as their saviour.
With power like his, he would bring humanity to its knees as a member of the superior species.
With power like his, he deserved to rule his people, elevated above all others as their leader.
He deserved to rule everything, he deserved to be praised by everyone as their hero, and it was past time for him to start getting what he deserved. With the White Fang as his loyal army, he would take over the world and see his new dream made real.
The Vale Brotherhood would still be loyal to him. He was sure of it. Their zeal had been tested far more strenuously than their softer Mistral counterparts. The explosive-laden train, a suicide mission for many. Working with Torchwick, a blatant racist. Fighting alongside humans for a human cause, even if it mirrored their own modus operandi, for a human goal (whatever it had been). His people in Vale had suffered defeats and remained steadfast in their courage and conviction to see the job done. All he needed to do was make his way back to them to take the reins again. Then he would start his reign again.
He would need a new throne.
Three hours later the trio headed back to the train station. Brazen had taken some time buying some new clothes, which the attendant had believed were intended for either Bedlam or Dominic. Dominic sensed some measure of jealousy towards Brazen exhibited by the attendant's tone and posture. Maybe because she believed that the person in the feminine kimono had two handsome twins as accompaniment? Dominic had found the entire situation comical in its inherent ridiculousness.
Brazen was now dressed in a white cloak, much the same fashion as the ones worn by the mysterious corner-dwellers of the tavern; its lack of a 'mysterious' dark shaded dye meant that Brazen had scooped it out from the bargain bin.
Brazen shot Dominic and Bedlam a look, "don't worry, boys. I won't be giving out quests anytime soon." The three shared a chuckle before sitting down on some benches at the train station. Bedlam flashed their tickets to a guard, who proceeded to leave them alone.
The rails started vibrating, and they knew the train was getting close.
The looked at one another and shared the thought: soon, we'll be back in Mistral. Excellent.
We have work to do.
?
"What is this?"
This is your front row seat to the rest of your lives, Adam. Dai was smiling, her mouth a wall of stilettos.
While Adam's mouth had been unsealed, he remained secured to a slab of green solid mist which was propped up at an angle so that he was forced to watch a pair of floating circles. Each one seemed to be like a television that was playing the view of one of his choice clones.
"What is this place? How am I here? Why am I here?"
This is the confines of the Relic of Choice. It is my prison, or maybe my home. I think I would call it my domain. The daemon flitted about freely, gliding through the mist on her bat wings. You are here because I am attached to your aura, which allowed me to duplicate a little bit of it, infuse it with your charming personality, and bring it in here with me to keep me company.
Adam, still restrained on the slate, waited for her to continue. She gracefully landed between him and the screens, which he noted were shaped like the relic itself: circular with three tines rising up from one side.
As for the why of it, there are two answers to that. Firstly, you are still a single soul. When the last version of you expires, your soul has to carry on to what waits beyond, whatever that may be. The soul that will go forth into death will be you, and for that reason it must be aware of its entire time on Remnant. So you must be here to experience everything yourselves experience, so that when your time comes you are truly whole again. You did not need to be consciously watching and experiencing your lives as they happen, but this will make it easier to understand the memories. However, the second point is that it is terribly boring in here. I was stuck in a dark basement for more than a century without anyone to amuse me. Solitude and isolation are difficult to cope with, sometimes. She slid forward and ran her hand along Adam's bare chest, her face turning into a pout as she briefly recalled her detention in Ozpin's vault. You seem like you are a lot more fun than the wizard, too.
"So I just sit here and watch, waiting for death, keeping you company?" Adam asked, filing that mention of a wizard away for later.
You can touch the screens if you promise to behave, Dai cooed, her tongue extending out from her mouth like a snake's, quickly tasting the air in the small space that was between their bodies, that will let you more fully experience each life. Existence being what it is here, you can experience them all without missing out on the others.
"So I just remain here and watch, unable to do anything, effectively stuck between life and death?"
No, no, no, both of Dai's hands were now freely roaming in small circles on Adam's defined abdominal and pectoral muscles. There is popcorn, too! Dai brought up her leg, which held in its claw a red-and-white striped bucket of steaming popcorn slathered with butter and caramel. Anything I can conceive I can create for us here. So with all that said, welcome to this place, Between Realms!
Adam felt his restraints dissipate and regained control over his eyelids, as well as the rest of his body. His first act was to take his captor's hands in his (her grin widened) and quickly remove them from his toned stomach.
Dai pouted, but then her attention turned to the screens. Let us see what you all get up to!
Well at least I won't be bored, Adam considered.
He grabbed a handful of popcorn and ate it.
It is sweet. It is crunchy. It is delicious! Adam savoured the taste. He enjoyed it thoroughly, more than he had when he had eaten the same snack a month prior – which it occurred to him must have been how Dai knew of popcorn at all, acting as a phantasmal voyeur on his senses.
Dai summoned comfy green chairs for them; Adam settled into one. It seemed like he would have time to explore his situation and was in no present danger. He consigned himself to watching himselves go about their chosen paths. Dai increased the size of the screens, and though Adam had never been to one he felt like he was in a movie theatre.
He reached for more popcorn, where his hand grazed Dai's as she did the same.
