Drat. She was a sneaky little minx, Qrow would give her that. And just when I found you too.
Figuring he wouldn't spot her again any time soon, Qrow soon gave up his search and flew back down. Reforming in an alleyway, he strolled on into Crow Bar, opting to grab a quick one before heading back.
The pain in Roman's ass had shown herself again about an hour ago, dressed strangely, but still present. Having seen her, he chose to try his hand with a few questions, hoping that mentioning Roman would make her feel easy or empowered. However, it hadn't quite gone down that way, and he was at best told - politely, albeit under clear threat - to fuck off. Perhaps he shouldn't have opened up mentioning how tightly she seemed to be holding Torchwick by the leash, but how was he supposed to know Roman hadn't mentioned her public display being available to the public - moreover, why was she even surprised that her poor decision had come back to bite her?
If she wanted to remain covert for any reason, then she shouldn't have openly berated the hired help.
But what was done was done, and despite spending a bit of time in his avian form, she'd essentially vanished from the rooftop he initially spied her atop. Only now, when thinking it over as he sat on his favorite stool in this particular bar, did Qrow realize how strange coming to greet someone on a rooftop was. Yeah... he could see why she hopped off into the darkness after the two sentence response. Whatever, he could just look for her again later if it bugged him enough.
"What can I get 'cha?"
Ahh, the smooth voice of a prime barista. And she was easy on the eyes. As per usual when they occasionally spied one another, she gave him a curt glare. Main man must have been out, meaning he called in the eye catcher this time around to take his place.
"If you even think about asking for me, I'm going to throw you out again."
Ah... good times; the fact she remembered meant he'd ingrained himself into her mind, and while not for a good reason, it was a start. Now if only he could make a more positive impact one day. Bah, his luck wouldn't allow that. Oh well, it could have been worse; he could end up banned from a few places like he was over in Mistral.
"I know, but the offer's still open if you're ever feeling up to it." She was soon rearing up to call over one of the bar's bodyguards when he stopped her. "Besides, I could use a real drink today, but nothing too hard. I gotta pay a visit to Beacon later to file some papers."
"Drinking on the job." The woman sighed. "Why am I not surprised?" Shaking her head, she turned around. "Fine, but if you end up getting in trouble, it's your own damn fault." Whipping back around, she slammed a mug down. "Here. It's a brand new whisky mix; smooth, but holds off on the punch. Good stuff for beginners, and probably the best thing for you right now."
These little moments where new booze was shoved in his face were what made life worth living for this old dusty Qrow.
"Well well." And just like that, a familiar voice joined the fray. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Qrow couldn't help but grin.
Huh... Seems this day might not be such a bummer after all.
.
.
It felt nice to let her hair flow freely again, but that was the price she paid playing good-girl for Cindy's posse.
Neo, despite being infamous amongst the underworld, held no such notoriety to the common dregs of the streets. And despite being the criminal partner of the most well known gentleman thief, Roman had elected to stand as the lone poster-boy for their crimes. This meant that, so long as she didn't earn a criminal personality of her own out in the open, she could parade around as if she owned these streets.
"Hey!" A swift young lad passed around her, just barely dodging a head on collision, and huffing before he took off again with the last word. "Watch where you're going, you blind bitch!"
Oh yeah, it felt good to be back. Because that was the real beauty of the city, and the daytime folks who liked to pretend they mattered. Despite the boy's curse, he carried on posthaste, and Neo knew for a fact he'd forget about her by tomorrow. Chances were, the kid was late to a date, or something of equal insignificance. But honestly, if he was in that much of a rush then he should have chosen to be on time to begin with.
Failures like that were what gave Neo that extra pep in her step - oops, her superiority was showing again.
Coming upon the Crow Bar rather swiftly, Neo grinned deviously - getting a few odd looks from some of the patrons. Roman was here somewhere. A bit of laughter here, some swearing there, and a small group of lightweights and probably tourists by the door staring fearfully towards the bar directed Neo fine enough towards her prey. Internally, she felt like questioning her dad's intelligence, but then again, who would be stupid enough to tattle on Roman Torchwick in person anyways?
Although, his presence didn't seem to bother the guy next to him, and from the way they were getting on, Neo suspected they'd had at least a little time to lose their marbles.
"Yeah." Roman sighed, leaning on his empty hand. "She's a slippery one. With someone as hot-headed as her, you'd figure she'd just yell at you."
"Look, I'll be honest..." The other man, some tall, rugged, and disheveled in more ways than one, rolled his eyes and crooked his face into a mix of annoyance and some other expression of tomfoolery. "I sometimes forget it isn't normal to strike up a chat on rooftops. But can you blame me?" Shooting his torso up, he cast his excuse to the air. "I'm a huntsman. Stalking and prowling the streets for danger is what I do." And then he fell back down, scowling a bit with a lazy face. "When I'm not watching kids."
Roman chuckled, and with a slightly questionable look, offered some advice - probably the best advice for that particular comment.
"Probably shouldn't say something like that aloud. Shouldn't being a teacher grant you some power over wordplay?"
"Meh." The guy straightened himself anew, brushing off all concerns and raising his glass to enjoy whatever was perking him up. "I'm known for having certain tastes; I doubt the people I'm around would misunderstand me that badly."
"Yeah, I bet." Roman rolled his eyes, only to end up swinging them back on Neo. As per habitual contract - not a real thing, but just roll with it - she gave a cutesy wave, bright smiles and all. Burdened by fear for maybe a second, Roman collected himself and played off his fault coolly. "Oh, hey there."
He went about it casually, but Neo had a feeling he might have been properly pissing himself. Granted, he viewed anyone associating her with him as a prime level issue, but that was a 'him' problem for being such a worry wart. Roman really should have been glad to see her, and if he really felt so bad about regular people lumping her currently innocent facade in with him and spoiling her incognito streak, then he should just treat her as a buzzing fly who he had no clue about.
The other dude hummed and twirled around, spinning on his stool gracefully enough to reveal he wasn't your ordinary bargoer. Oh no no no, that right there, that premium balance and carefree twist of his arm without so much as a gram of caution over spilling his drink: that was the sign of a countertop connoisseur. Or, in basic terms, a professional drunk, and a master of bar tastes. Man had seen, if Neo were to guess based on attitude and his willingness to ignore the criminal next to him, around 55% of all bars across the face of Remnant - give or take a few when considering potentially fallen towns and local bankruptcies.
"Hmm." The man nudged Roman with his elbow. "She a friend of yours?"
"It's..." Roman, ever the springy rabbit when it came to dodging the question, began hopping away. "Complicated."
"Ah..." With a cool grin, the guy finished up his drink in one fell swoop, passing out a satisfied breath before nodding wisely. "So you're getting pegged by two of 'em."
"What?" Roman somehow kept his composure; that was fine - one of them had to remain collected at least, and it sure as shit wasn't gonna be her now. Okay, now that alone said it all: this guy wasn't a stranger. Who else would have the balls to badmouth Roman Torchwick over getting ridden by anyone? Two of them, eh? Seems like he might have known about Cinder too; interesting… Daddy was making all sorts of friends lately. Question was: were they as bad as Cindy?
"So, is this one as rough as the matchstick?" Dude hit her unspoken pops and partner with a lazy grin. Cinder confirmed; this was either an ally, or Roman had dug himself into yet another hole. "Or do her blow-ups involve some tact?"
Roman squinted, very much looking like he wanted to drop his head down low. Neo probably should have felt bad for him, but it was his fault for being a bozo. If he didn't want to be called a bitch like that, then he shouldn't have been putting himself in bitch-worthy situations. Neo sighed, figuring it was up to her to save his ass. Before Roman could really say something, she tapped the guy on his knee, and once he looked over showed him her scroll.
"I'm the leech." There we go; that should settle things a bit. As expected, this unnamed man grinned, coming to his own conclusion. Strangely, it was a conclusion that didn't end up that far off the mark; either they had terrible luck, or this man had experience in what he preached.
"Either this or child support, huh?" Sighing, he nudged Roman again. "Guess it doesn't matter. On the bright side, I'm guessing you got to keep the kid, or is this your weekend?"
Not quite a new one, but at least it wasn't weird… by their standards. Watching two grown men bicker like schoolchildren was fun in its own right, but she couldn't let them laze around all day. With little to do but watch them drink, and partially wanting to get back home for an hour to just enjoy the vibe before committing to Cinder's job, Neo proposed a last retort, proudly displaying the message for both men to see.
"Mind if I borrow daddy? He's got things to do, and I do too."
"Someone's polite." The guy leaned over to Roman again. "Remind me to ask how you trained her, because my nieces could use a lesson or two in showing this old man some respect."
"Next time." Roman finally stood, taking off for the back rooms with her now in tow. No doubt she'd get chewed out a little, but it was worth it. Besides, she needed to grill him anyways on spreading rumors about Cinder; if that pyromaniac found out, then Neo was sure her next few deaths would be a little more annoying than she'd like.
Burning to death took forever, even if she skipped out on all the pain.
.
.
Once they disappeared, Qrow let out a tired sigh.
Great... he's got a kid.
That was always the irksome bit when it came to criminals, even notorious ones: they always had a second life outside of the trouble they caused. That girl, despite having a bratty edge - based on her face alone - didn't seem too bad. He could easily guess there was more to her than that though, because for a daughter, she seemed a touch older than she should have been. Add on to that Roman's youthful appearance, and even old man Qrow could tell they weren't blood related.
But she said, or in this case texted, that he was her dad, and he didn't see any quirks making her out to be a liar during the exchange, so he'd chosen to believe it. In the end he supposed it didn't really matter: family often went beyond blood anyways, and it wasn't freely given to blood either. He knew plenty of friends who'd been abandoned by their parents or children, and in both cases, neither ever referred to the other as family. Family were the ones to stick by your side when you needed them the most, and they picked you up when you fell down.
Those who threw you away just because it was convenient, even if they were blood related, could never be considered family.
"Joy..." Qrow spat, standing from the bar and slamming some lien down on the countertop. Seeing someone like Roman, a crook wanted for multiple high profile - but admittedly non-violent - crimes walk off peacefully with someone he could call family only reminded Qrow of his own dwindling relationships.
Granted, he had a good family, but that wasn't always the case.
Making his way from the bar, Qrow passed into the nearest shadow, and after confirming no one could see, he morphed and took off into the skies. The drink was good, but he didn't have much time left now. That little spat with Roman ate up most of the extra minutes he had, and the bitter taste he'd gotten at the end stuck itself to his tongue. Family never was all that nice a topic for him to dwell on, and annoyingly, the only thing capable of ridding Qrow of those negative whispers in his mind was work.
Ozpin, as always, had been waiting, and once Qrow got within eyesight, the headmaster cracked the window open before meandering over to his desk and taking a seat behind. Before him sat a cup of hot cocoa, and Qrow - after getting into the oversized room - became human once more.
"Welcome back." His co-conspirator began, motioning a gloved hand towards one of the seats before his desk. Normally, Qrow would deny the offer, often preferring to stand. Today, however, was a little different, and so he obliged, laying his ass down and getting a jab of interest from old Oz. "Hmm..." Pushing up his glasses, Ozpin linked his fingers, catching on just as quickly as always that something wasn't quite right. "Did something happen?"
"To tell you the truth, Oz, I'm not sure I know." Leaning back a little, Qrow made himself comfortable before spilling the news. "On the one hand, I came across Torchwick a few times, but on the other, he wasn't really up to much when I found him."
"I see..." Ozpin, leaning a little closer and resting his chin atop his clasped hands, prodded with a bit more interest. "His activities of late have been limited to theft, have they not?"
"Nothing but dust." Qrow very well could have made a stink and tried to get the guy either time, but what use would that be? Roman was, for all intents and purposes, acting stupid when it came to his actions. Taking so much dust so quickly left no time for the shops to recover, and that was risky.
Risky wasn't Roman's style; even Ozpin knew that.
Speaking of Oz, he struck forth with a fairly simple question next.
"Have you been able to witness any of these robberies yourself?"
"Not one." As well as the oddly brazen increase in action, Qrow found it unusual how the robberies themselves were conducted too. When he stole dust, Roman mainly stuck to Crystalized Dust.
Powdered was good and all, but it was also limited; more or less, it acted best as fuel and ammunition. Crystal, on the other hand, could be powdered if needed, applied to clothing and traps, inserted in technology to act as batteries and energy sources dependant on their size, and even shaped to fit along circuitry in larger machines and computing devices - heck, the effects of the crystals themselves usually lent their unique traits to the machines they were implanted in. As such, when stealing dust, the only type worth the risk of full scale robbery were the crystals.
Ozpin hummed, soon calling Qrow on his earlier comment.
"You said you've come across him a few times, but you haven't seen his robberies in person. Is this correct?"
"Yeah. Believe it or not, I've got a chance to talk with him twice."
"Interesting." Ozpin straightened up. While he might have looked rigid to most, Qrow knew his friend long enough to tell when something excited him. Leave it to Oz not to complain about a hunter ignoring the opportunity to confront a known crook. But then again, and unlike a certain metal-head, Ozpin understood the value of patience. "And did he say anything particularly interesting?"
"Not really." Qrow began, leading into the inevitable 'but.' "I caught him winded both times. He's got this woman breathing down his neck now, and based on what I saw, she's not exactly the patient type."
"Not many are nowadays, are they?" A spark showed itself in his eye; it seemed Oz had come to the same conclusion Qrow did. "Do you believe she might have something to do with the robberies?"
"At this point I'm pretty sure it's all but confirmed." Gritting his teeth, Qrow for the first time this whole talk let some anger show. "I met her, you know. I got a chance to talk, but she slipped away right as I arrived."
"And did she have anything interesting to add?"
"I wish I could tell you." Qrow hated how easily she vanished; he'd never come across anyone who could disappear from his gaze so fast. Even in his crow form he couldn't spot her. "But she got away. I opened up with how she had Torchwick under wraps, hoping to align myself with the gangs around Vale, but all she did was tell me to leave and hop away."
Ozpin clenched his eyes shut, very much disappointed in the news. Taking a moment to breathe and sit on it, he popped his sights open again, and taking a reserved posture, proposed a new idea.
"Did she show any unique characteristics, such as her semblance or a physical quirk?"
"Not really." Qrow thought back on the encounter, both of them actually. "Charcoal hair, a sassy sway in every step and stance, and that look on her face that tells you she believes the world revolves around her; the type of lady to strut around in a strapless dress. But she wasn't dressed how you'd expect either. She kind of looked like a hunter; you know, the forest type? Vest and trousers you'd see on those girls carrying rifles on the calendars; that type of thing."
In essence, she was a bitch. Expectedly, that didn't do much for Oz.
"I see…" Yeah, well they were both in the same boat. Other than her clearly suspicious presence and ties to Roman, there wasn't a whole lot that set her apart from any other potential criminal woman. Well, there was one thing, and it came to Qrow as he was recalling their 'chat.'
"Her eyes." A bit strange, but being the closest to a peculiar trait he had, it needed to be mentioned. "They were bright amber, but weirdly, they seemed to glow. It might have just been the light, I'm not sure, but I can almost swear they lit up a tiny bit when I mentioned Roman."
"Hmm… Glowing amber eyes." Ozpin crossed his arms, leaning back into his chair. "And you said she was dressed like a hunter?" Qrow nodded. "Alright. It's not as detailed as I would have hoped, but it's at least a start. Good work; I'll have Glynda keep an eye anytime she heads out to the city. With luck, we may run into our mysterious huntress soon. And… on a darker note…" Shadows melted from the top of his face, born of a low angled glare. "She may be the one."
"The eyes, right?" Oz nodded, but Qrow knew the answer before it was cast. "Like I said, it might have been a trick."
"Perhaps." Ozpin stood, strolling around and over to the window; he always did take an opportunity to look over the school when he was feeling stressed. Somehow, the simple act of seeing the students below at peace instilled a sense of clarity to any chaotic thoughts. "But if she is indeed the one, then it would mean we'll have the chance to potentially prevent disaster before it begins. No ordinary woman would know of the Maidens, and our foe has been… quiet, as of late."
Yeah, too quiet, apparently. Qrow didn't like it either, but Oz was right; nipping their problem in the bud before it bloomed was the key to stopping whatever scheme was at play. And, although a more selfish desire, it would give him the opportunity to enact vengeance upon Amber's attacker. Qrow knew he wasn't fully at fault, Amber had run off without him and was actively hiding from him, but for Qrow, he couldn't stop the what-ifs from plaguing his mind.
Standing, he started towards the elevator.
"I'm heading down; thinking of surprising the kids for a day before heading back out. You know how to reach me."
Ozpin never looked back, and all Qrow saw before his vision was cut off by the elevator door was the grim reflection on the window, hazy and unreadable.
Author's note
…
Another Qrow chapter; I see no issue here.
Neo had a scene, sure, but she was more or less just there to stew up some fun interactions before taking Roman away. We'll continue with her story next time, but this chapter was more about establishing a few… let's call them 'elements.'
At least we know why Cinder was sweaty last time.
We've got one reviewer pulling the whole sleigh for this tale; granted, we've just begun, but everyone's input is welcome. I will correct one thing though: "The brawler was swearing on the inside" is the actual quote, not "The brawler was swearing inside". This is an important distinction because 'swearing' is the intended word here.
I'm aware the phrase 'sweating inside' is the commonly used one, but in this scene Yang is internally berating herself. 'Sweating' implies a more reserved reaction, and from Blake's perspective, Yang is someone who complains angrily as opposed to shying away. But that's more or less a quirk on Blake's part.
Admittedly, 'swore internally' would have sounded better, but I don't consider this a problem worth updating a whole chapter over.
This isn't a major detail, but I like to keep potential misinterpretations at a minimum if I can.
Continue to freely point out any issues spotted though; I'll correct them if needed, or explain them if they aren't issues. This one reviewer is still the MVP here; feedback is essential for improvement, even if it ends up being a bit of a misunderstanding - then again, it's up to you readers to decide if any of my reasoning makes a lick of sense, or if I'm just being stupid.
That pretty much covers this chapter.
Until next time.