Chapter Three: The Winchester Part I
"Thank you! Come again!"
Jaune waved to the young woman that just left, dropping her lien into the nearby safe. He let out a small sigh of relief, wiping at his brow as he saw the clock strike 8:30. People sure are hungry today. Could barely get in that sandwich earlier.
He started cleaning up, only stopping when he felt a little hand tugging at his leg. He looked down, smiling as Rogue stared up at him. "What's wrong, sweetpea?"
"I'm hungry."
"I am too, Rogue. Don't worry, I'll fix us dinner as soon as I clean up here."
Rogue frowned, watching as Jaune stumbled a bit while cleaning. Beads of sweat still covered him, his breathing slightly labored as he moved. "Could we go out, daddy? You look so tired."
Jaune turned, giving her a somewhat forced smile. "What? Me? Don't you worry about me, sweetpea. I've got plenty enough in me to make us dinner."
"Then why are you putting the spoons in the fork drawer?"
Jaune looked down, frowning as he saw that he'd haphazardly thrown the spoons in with the forks. He sighed, grabbing them and placing them in their proper places. "I'm okay, sweetpea. I'm just…we've been so busy lately. Don't worry, though. I can still…"
He looked down, seeing Rogue pouting up at him, curling her hands over her chest.
Jaune frowned. "Rogue, sweetpea, I…you know I…"
He saw tears welling up in her eyes.
He barely hesitated as he leaned down, lifting her into a hug and pulling her little face into the crook of his shoulder. "You know I can't say no to that face."
He pulled her back, seeing her with a bright smile on her face. She leaned forward, planting a tiny kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, daddy!"
Jaune rolled his eyes. "Go get your coat, I'll be ready in a minute."
Rogue hopped out of his embrace, dashing toward the nearby coat rack as Jaune did the same. He grabbed out a small, dark-red, puffy coat from one of the lower hooks, helping Rogue pull it on before grabbing a less puffy black one for himself. He pulled it on rather quickly, watching Rogue dash to the door, nearly bouncing up and down waiting for him.
Jaune walked over to her, taking her hand as he opened the door, grabbing his keys in the other. "Try not to leave me in the dust this time, alright?"
"Okie-Dokie!"
Jaune locked the door rather quickly, turning back into the cool, late-autumn air. The brisk breeze shocked the tiredness from him rather quickly, getting him to extend his legs just enough Rogue could stay a ways ahead of him. Feel better already…maybe I should find a way to squeeze in a nap halfway through the day? Would make me less exhausted at the end of it, at least.
The two made their way down the road, passing by a few bars and various clubs as they walked. Jaune held Rogue's hand a bit tighter as they passed drunk patron's on the steps. Some stumbling home, some drinking more, some smoking—some just passed out. Given it wasn't even nine o'clock yet, he was rather surprised to see so many of them out.
By the time the clock struck nine, the Arcs had reached their destination: A small building near the split between the residential and business districts of Vale. A place that existed not as one of the two, but rather somewhat of a gray area between both. One that catered to both the wealthier members of the upper districts and the poorer members of the lower districts.
Kind of like his restaurant, actually.
As they approached the outer door, however, Jaune saw the way that the restaurant wasn't like his.
The two had just reached the door when a figure was thrown out of it—skidding across the sidewalk into the road. They were clad in a large, tattered overcoat with several layers of plaid shirts beneath, along with a pair of jeans tattered from wear rather than use. Their shoes were filled with holes, exposing the bare, pale feet beneath.
Though, the main reason the figure was thrown out was revealed when they sat up, a black beanie slipping off to reveal two black, cat ears. The female faunus slowly stood, staggering a bit as a large, burly figure blocked the door. "If you haven't got any money, head to the homeless shelter down the street! You can't loiter around scaring off my customers!"
"Please! I haven't eaten in—"
"I said go!"
The man threateningly waved a spatula, succeeding in threatening the girl to scamper off toward a nearby alley—hissing back at him as she did so.
The man turned to Jaune and Rogue, stepping down and revealing himself to be almost a foot taller than Jaune. His demeanor rapidly shifted to a friendly smile. "Ah, hello there! Sorry about that. Tried just getting her to leave—even told her a nice place downtown that'd feed her for free. Some freaks just can't take no for an answer."
He cleared his throat, holding the door. "Name's Egat—I'm the chef of this fine establishment. Come in! Come in! We've got plenty of tables open."
Despite the bile building in the back of his throat, Jaune walked in.
The building within was rather nice, all things considered. Several oak wood tables lined the place, a hardwood floor somewhat similar to the one in his kitchen beneath his feet. Dozens of customers took up many of those tables, ranging from looking like normal, middle-class people to those on the higher ends of society—clad in fur coats that cost more than Curative Cuisine made in a week.
As the two followed the chef into the store, Rogue pulled on Jaune's coat, making little grabbing motions.
Jaune recognized the signal well, lifting her up.
The man turned around as he reached a table, giving a warm smile at Jaune. "You've got a little one too, huh?"
Jaune just nodded, smiling the same blank one he did when dealing with his more infuriating customers.
The man pulled the chair out, walking away and grabbing a dark-blue booster seat for Rogue. He set it up next to him, brow furrowing as he gestured to him. "Did your girl have her young?"
Jaune didn't answer.
The chef shook his head, giving a hearty chuckle. "Ah, don't worry about it. Had my first when I was fifteen. Trust me, you'll be glad you didn't give her up. I'll have a waiter come by to take your order—oh, and get a kids meal for the little tyke."
Jaune was silent as the man walked away, leaving him to sit Rogue in the booster seat—ensuring she was the same height as the table.
She leaned forward, frowning as she stared at the man walking away. "Daddy, how can he be so nice to us and so mean to the homeless lady?"
Jaune took a breath, slowly exhaling through his nostrils. "That's just how some people are, Rogue. But that doesn't make it right."
Jaune's eyes lazed around the room, waiting on the waiter—fittingly enough. He saw dozens of older couples with children, or maybe grandchildren in some of their cases, having a simple meal. Even more were younger couples—likely eating here late on a budget.
And, unsurprisingly, all of them were human.
It was only about two minutes when a waiter came by. He was a young man—maybe Jaune's age—with a sharp cut of brown hair. Solely based on his height and how bulky he was, Jaune guessed he was related to the man that'd greeted them.
He placed a kids menu and pack of crayons in front of Rogue, giving her a small smile before handing Jaune an adult menu. "Welcome to The Winchester! Is it your first time dining with us?"
It'll probably be the last.
Jaune nodded, Rogue doing the same.
The waiter nodded, pulling out a notepad for taking orders from the front of his black apron uniform. "Alright, always good to see new customers. My name's Cardin, and I'll be your waiter this evening. Now, can I get you two started with some drinks?"
Jaune looked at Rogue.
"Milk!"
Cardin nodded. "And for you, sir?"
"I'll take water—no lemon."
Cardin nodded a few times, writing it down before looking back up. "Alright, I'll let you two look over the menu and be back in just a minute with your drinks."
Cardin walked away, leaving Jaune to look over the menu. Given he was ready in about thirty seconds, he kind of wished the man had stuck around longer. Still, it gave him time to watch Rogue, smiling as he saw her holding a crayon in her little fist, making long lines through the menu.
A few seconds later, he noticed something behind her.
His eyes flickered to a place behind Rogue, just beneath a chair occupied by a wealthy-looking woman. His eyes trailed along the floor, stopping on a small, diamond ring in the space between the hardwood. It was rather clear it belonged to her and looked as though it had just fallen out of her pocket.
Weird…how would it have—
A tendril picked the ring up.
The tendril was a long, black thing that slipped through the ring itself, wearing it. His eyes followed the tendril as far as he could without moving his head, seeing it branch off near the entrance to the kitchen. There, several tendrils overlapped each other, creating a web over the floor.
When no one reacted, he knew what it meant:
There's another stand user nearby.
He didn't dare let on that he knew, casually scooting his chair toward Rogue and grabbing a nearby crayon. He started helping her color in, suggesting parts that should be different colors as he looked up once in a while.
While he couldn't see the tendril at the angle he was, he knew he had to do something.
He frowned as he stared at the page, gently rolling the crayon between his fingers.
That's when an idea struck.
He reached his finger forward, using his nail to shave off a bit of the end of it. He grabbed it between his index finger and thumb, holding it over his shoulder before calling on September. Imbue it with—it doesn't really matter, honestly. Durability? Sure, make it less likely to shatter.
With September's help, he flicked it back toward the tendril.
He focused, rubbing his eyes and giving a long, fake yawn as he summoned September from the crayon tip. Suddenly, he saw from September's eyes, seeing himself from behind, and the tendril beneath him.
"ARA!"
With that cry, September slammed its fist into the tendril—severing it just before the ring.
The cut-off portion of the tendril vanished into a wispy, black smoke as September laid the ring in the woman's pocket. Okay, so the tendrils are probably a really small part of itself.
When he opened his eyes again, letting September dissipate into the crayon, he immediately looked for wounds. Cuts on fingers, palms, any exposed skin—so much as a sign of pain. Yet despite how many people he saw, he didn't see a single one clutching their finger, cringing in pain—etc.
Though, he did see something else interesting.
Looking through the glass doors leading in, he saw that same faunus girl. She was staring inside, glaring at the patrons of the restaurant with fists gripped tight. Her eyes were burning as she stared in, grinding her teeth.
It could be her. Some kind of revenge…hard to tell if she's in pain, though.
He kept an eye out for more tendrils, infrequently closing his eyes for a few seconds to see from the crayon tip now embedded in the wall nearby. Though, he saw none before Cardin came back with Rogue and his drinks—prompting him to move back to his place across from her. "Alright, and have you two decided on what you want?"
Jaune ordered spaghetti; Rogue ordering chicken nuggets.
Jaune focused, closing his eyes each time he drank from his water to look through September's eyes. Sure enough, he saw another tendril behind him—trying to pick the pocket of someone near the entrance.
Jaune frowned, keeping an eye on it, though hesitating to do anything. I can't keep having September appear from the same place, the user might get suspicious. I can't let them know who I am…then again, I've also got to figure out who they are. Think, Jaune, think!
Across from Jaune, Rogue saw two pale hands appear from her father's chest, flashing within. She watched as he pulled out a small ring with a rather large diamond on it, and vaguely wondered just where he'd gotten it. Though, after a few seconds, she decided to go back to her coloring.
He placed the ring on, laying his right hand on the table—letting the left rest clearly visible on his thigh. Okay, the trap's been set. Let's see if I can catch a stand user like this.
Jaune looked from the crayon while he took another drink, watching the tendril continue with its current target. He frowned through his stand, looking around. Even if it goes for the ring, I've gotta find a way to stop it! Think, think…
He found his break in an unattended plate of food.
He summoned September from the crayon, this time leaving his eyes open as he could plainly see what was happening.
September reached down, grabbing what looked like two green beans and imbuing both with durability. Jaune had him rear his hand back, throwing one over his shoulder and slamming into the tendril before it could pull the wallet back out. The other he threw toward the opposite corner of the restaurant—allowing him to see virtually anywhere by switching where he summoned September from.
Though, there were suddenly much bigger problems to worry about.
From September's placement, he saw a strange, black shadow slip between the glass doors leading in. It seemed to be a few inches shorter than he was and looked as though a shadow had gotten up and taken on a human form.
Or, more accurately, a faunus form.
Sure enough, looking out the window from the left green bean revealed that same faunus girl sitting outside—her eyes closed. So she's a thief? Maybe she's just really desperate…no—that's no excuse for what she's doing. I've gotta stop this!
He summoned September from said green bean, taking a drink of water to mask closing his eyes.
September emerged from the green bean, rearing back its fist.
"ARA!"
The other stand disappeared.
What?
He grit his teeth as he felt a searing pain across his chest, September getting tossed back into an empty table by something he couldn't even see—causing it to break and draw the eyes of all the patrons besides himself.
He turned to stare as well, eyes wide in mock surprise as he slowly moved a hand beneath his chest—relieved when he felt no blood. Okay, so its attacks hurt, but so far they can't break September's armor. Good to know.
September rose as Jaune closed his eyes once more—uncertain where the stand was. From its eyes, he saw a restaurant devoid of any stand except his own, the faunus girl outside far outside of his effective range at the moment.
Crap, where is it?
…
Blake Belladonna stared into the diner.
Of all the places to meet another stand user.
She grit her teeth as she stared at the towering stand, gazing around wildly. The suit of white armor protecting it from her attack, the fists almost fast enough to catch her stand even with its ability—it was a threat, no doubt about it.
Still…who's the user?
Her eyes flicked between customers, watching the group gazing at the destroyed table and frantically gazing at each other as staff rushed out to see what the commotion was. Whoever the user was, they were doing a shockingly good job at keeping themselves hidden.
It didn't really matter in the end, honestly. The user could be anyone in the area, hiding in plain sight. Were they protecting the restaurant? Attacking her for their own amusement? She didn't know.
But she did know one thing:
The stand couldn't hit hers if it couldn't see it.
…
The commotion hadn't gone unnoticed.
Several of the employees rushed out when they heard the table breaking, asking a few of the customers what happened—unaware of the two stands fighting just behind them. Jaune watched one of them walk right through September, unable to touch it unless Jaune let him do so.
By instinct Jaune had September cross its arms, feeling the shuddering of several quick strikes against his armored hands. He struck ahead of him.
"ARA! ARA! ARA!"
Nothing.
Not so much as resistance.
He opened his eyes, looking around and wondering just what the hell he was fighting. It isn't turning invisible—otherwise, I'd be able to hit it. Is it really long-ranged? No, that can't be it either. There's no way to see inside except for the doorway, and if this is the faunus girl's stand, she's way too close. Think, Jaune! There has to be a weakness!
September crossed his arms again, blocking another blow before high-kicking—succeeding only at shaking one of the light fixtures above.
He recalled September, viewing from each green-bean as he attempted to discern just how the hell the stand worked. Too dangerous to have September out in the open. I need to learn more…somehow.
He opened his eyes, frowning as he saw Rogue squinting at the light behind him—knowing that he was the cause. Her eyes were focused on him, somewhat worried.
Jaune simply held a finger to his lips, shushing her.
Though, his eyes didn't move for a moment, confused as he saw the shadows playing across Rogue's face. Looking back at the light fixture revealed it to be perfectly normal, casting no odd shadows anywhere else.
Though, on Rogue's face, it was a different story.
Each time the light swung back toward her, it seemed the shadows were in a different order. Jagged edges over her left eye at one swing, over her right on the other. Sometimes they'd just hit her hair and nothing else.
Jaune's eyes widened as he saw them flicker again.
The shadows! Of course!
…
Stand name: ?
Stand User: Blake Belladonna
Stats:
Power: C
Speed: A
Range: B
Persistence: D
Precision: C
Potential: B