Chapter Eleven: Waitress Practice

Blake stood in front of a mirror, eyes flicking over her figure.

Despite her initial objections, the twins (with some pressure from Coco) had purchased a black, knee-length skirt for her to wear. Put it down to guilt over them buying it and her refusing to wear it, or maybe she simply wanted to wear something different, but she'd donned it regardless. Above it she wore a cream-colored, long-sleeve shirt with black stripes running along the sides—styled vaguely like a harness.

Her legs were covered by a pair of tights that stretched from her thighs down to her boots, gradually turning from purple to black as they approached her feet. For shoes she wore a simple pair of black boots, her socks tucked into the tights.

As obnoxious as she was, Coco was right.

This look did suit her.

She took a breath, letting it out slowly as she walked out through Jaune's apartment, into the hallway. It was strange. So, so strange to be walking around in less than three layers of clothing. It was like walking around naked, air flowing over her thinly covered legs that made her want to pull the skirt down as far as she could.

She suppressed the urge, making her way down the stairs and into the main lobby.

Within, she saw Miltia, Melanie, and Rogue sitting at a table—Rogue giving her a bright smile and waving at her as the twins simply smiled. Jaune stood near them, approaching her.

Jaune stopped a few feet in front of her, giving her a faint smile. "Ready to get started?"

"As I'll ever be."

Jaune nodded a few times, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, black ring, "First off, until I can teach you aura reading, I need you to wear this."

Blake's brow furrowed, eyes flicking between the ring and Jaune's face. "What does it do?"

Jaune held it forward, the familiar arm of September emerging from it. "The ring's actually just a spoon I infused with durability. It lets me summon September through it so I can read the customers' auras for you. That way, I can guess what they'll need today and infuse it into their order!"

Blake's mouth shifted in confusion. "How exactly did you do this before?"

Jaune gestured back at the counter. "Used to be, customers would come up to order at the counter, sit down, and I'd call their order. When they ordered, I'd use September to read their aura as I was writing it down. Then I'd make little notes—a smiley face if they needed joy, a flexing bicep if they needed bravery—things like that."

Blake fought a snicker. "A flexing bicep?"

Jaune looked away, face tinting pink. "I mean, it's really just a sideways 'L' since I can't draw worth anything."

Melanie and Miltia openly laughed, Blake and Rogue giggling.

Jaune shook his head, guiding Blake to the girls' table as she slipped on the ring. "You, on the other hand, will read their auras differently. You'll cup their hand like this," he cradled Miltia's hand with his own, "and make sure the ring is touching them while you pretend to read their palm. Then you'll move on to the next one—and so on and so on."

Jaune reached into his pocket, pulling out a small notepad and pen. "When they sit down, go around and write down their orders. Make sure you write out what table they sit at—it's the label in the center of the table—otherwise, it might get confusing! Understand?"

Blake slowly nodded, trying to remember every detail. "I think so."

Jaune gave her a reassuring smile, leaning on the table. "Hey, it'll be fine! Just be polite, smile, and don't use your stand on anyone…" Jaune looked off to the left, absently flourishing his left hand. "Unless they try to attack you—in which case you do whatever's necessary to defend yourself. Okay?"

"Okay."

Jaune clapped, a bright smile on his face as he headed back into the kitchen. "Okay! Now take their orders, read their palms, and I'll start cooking!"

Blake nodded, turning to the three.

She walked over, clearing her throat. "Welcome to, um, Curative Cuisine! May I take your order?"

Melanie shook her head, standing up. "Okay, pause. We're gonna have to work on that greeting. It shouldn't sound like someone's holding you at gunpoint, it should sound perfectly natural!"

Miltia turned to her sister. "Have you met a waitress? Their greetings are almost always robotic."

"Okay, fair point. Either way, you need practice."

Rogue piped up. "That's why we're doing this!"

Blake's head was spinning as she stared at the three, notepad shaking slightly in her hands. "Uh…what should I say, then?"

Melanie leaned back, clearing her throat before clapping—putting on a bright, clearly fake smile. "Hello! Welcome to Curative Cuisine! I'm Blake Belladonna, and it's an honor to serve you! May I take your order?"

Miltia scoffed, leaning over the table. "She's a waitress, not a maid! 'Honored to serve you'? Seriously? It should be more like 'Hello! Welcome to Curative Cuisine! I'm Blake Belladonna, and I'll be your server this evening! Can I start you off with some drinks?'. That sounds more normal."

The two turned back to Blake, sitting down as the nervous girl tried again. "Welcome to Curative Cuisine. I-I'm Blake Belladonna. I'll be your server this evening. C-Can I start you off with some drinks?"

The twins slowly nodded, eyes flicking to each other before going back to her. Miltia spoke for both. "Better, but you're a little quiet. It'll be loud in here once all the seats are packed—and believe me, they will be. Try and speak up!"

Melanie threw in her two lien. "Also, you're stuttering a little. It's not bad, but you are oozing nervous energy. That should get fixed with more practice, at least. Now, try again!"

Blake repeated the same greeting, a bit louder this time.

Miltia scratched her chin, her eyes widening as she got an idea. Her hand dove into her shirt, producing her scroll before texting up a storm. "One second!"

She set it back without a word.

Melanie stared at her for a second. "Well?"

"Give it a second."

The three heard a tapping on the front door.

All eyes turned to it, Blake's eyes widening as she saw none other than Neopolitan standing on the other side. She gave them a wave before opening the door and letting herself in. No one really questioned how—despite the fact the door was locked. In all likelihood, she'd simply been masking her presence and picking the lock to make a more dramatic entrance.

That or someone had forgotten to lock the door.

Knowing Jaune? Could be either.

She walked in, not uttering a word—not as if she could anyway—as she hopped onto the table the twins and Rogue were seated at. She looked at Miltia, eyes flicking to Blake before she raised a brow.

"Yeah, we need your Stand. Make some noise."

Neo nodded, Parasol appearing in her hand.

Blake's eyes widened as a small, brown, white, and pink striped chameleon jumped from the end, disappearing as the room was suddenly filled with people. They were talking, chatting amongst themselves, forks, knives, and spoons scraping against plates. All the noise that was typical in Curative Cuisine.

Miltia looked back at her. "There. Now try."

Blake repeated her greeting, loud enough to be heard.

Miltia nodded, giving Blake an encouraging smile. "There you go! Need to work on the delivery a bit, but you'll get it in no time!"

Melanie nodded in agreement. "I'll take a chicken sandwich with fries."

Blake nodded, holding out her hand.

Melanie stared for a second. "You're gonna have to explain the palm-reading thing to people, kitten."

Blake gave her a faint glare before clearing her throat again. "Excellent choice. Please, allow me to read your palm."

Miltia frowned. "Uh…how exactly are we going to explain this, anyway? It's not normal even by Jaune's standards."

Melanie stare at Blake for a moment before she leaned back, scratching her chin. "Good point…"

Rogue snapped her fingers. "Oh! I know! Daddy can read auras and tell what people want to eat anyway, right? So, all we have to do is get rid of the menu and make it so it changes depending on the customer!"

The group stared at her, all contemplative.

Blake's eyes widened as September emerged from her ring, standing beside her. Jaune spoke through it, its mouth moving just a bit out of sync with his words. "I'm not opposed to the idea. We barely have a menu to begin with—it's just the most common things people want. The problem is how much to charge people."

"Twenty-lien."

All eyes turned to Melanie.

She shrugged, looking at September. "What? Literally nothing on your menu is more than twenty lien anyway, and that counts for the drink too. Give them the drink in combination with the meal, and have Blake spin some line about 'reading palms to determine what you want' or something like that. Boom! Solution!"

Blake slowly nodded. "That…actually sounds like it would work."

Miltia nodded. "Yeah, I'm impressed! That's a great idea, Melanie!"

Melanie glared at her sister. "Why are you surprised? I can have good ideas!

"Not very often."

Melanie grit her teeth, her hand gripping the table as she bolted to her feet. Neo's illusion fell as the small girl scrambled off the table—grabbing Rogue as she went. The two stared on, worry on Neo's face and confusion on Rogue's.

Miltia, meanwhile, simply smirked at her, rising to her feet. Everyone saw the faint, vague outline of a figure appearing behind her—a similar one appearing behind Melanie. "Oh, you wanna do this right now? Remember what happened last time?"

September floated between the two, one armored hand raised to each. "Woah, Woah! Calm down, both of you! I'm not cooking for you today if you don't cool it!"

The two stared each other down for a moment.

Then, slowly, the outlines of their stands disappeared.

Miltia sat back down, staring at Melanie. "Jauney's got a point. We'd trash the place with how we fight. Let's try something more…tame."

Something about Miltia's Cheshire grin was…deeply unsettling to Blake.

"What are you thinking?"

Miltia reached into her dress, producing a small deck of playing cards. She passed them to Blake. "Blackjack. Blake deals. Best of three rounds."

"Wager?"

"Loser walks the mile tonight."

"Deal."

Blake's eyes flicked between the two as she picked up the cards. "Uh…weren't you supposed to be helping Jaune train me to be a waitress? Are we—are we just not doing that anymore?"

Rogue looked up from the other side of the table, slowly shaking her head. "Don't bother. They won't stop until one of them gets one over on the other—usually by beating them up."

September turned to Blake. "We'll, uh…pick this up later."

September disappeared back into the ring.

Blake looked between the two, grabbing the cards and shuffling them. "Do you two do this a lot or something?"

The two nodded in silence, staring each other down.

Blake dealt each two cards, eyes flicking over to Neo and Rogue. The two were sitting nearby, eyes intently focused on the twins as they went through their card game. Miltia won the first hand, Melanie the second, leaving it to a tie-breaker.

Blake dealt out two cards, eyes flicking between the two. "What exactly are you two betting on, anyway? What's 'The Mile'?"

Melanie's eyes flicked to Rogue. "Little ears—can't talk about it."

That told her plenty.

Melanie fist-pumped the air as she won the last draw, laughing as her sister's face suddenly matched her dress. "Oh, I am so gonna enjoy this! You've had this coming for months!"

Miltia glared at her, only to turn back to Blake. "Sorry about that. Where'd we leave off?"

Blake took the two's orders (along with Rogue and Neo since they were already there anyway) via the palm-holding method Jaune had planned on. When she went to the counter to grab them, she found a note on each plate labeling who they went to. Or, rather, a depiction of a table with the place they were sitting at. Well, that's one way to do it I guess.

The four started eating as Jaune walked out, giving Blake a bright smile. "Nice work! It may take a bit, but you'll get the hang of it in no time!"

Blake gave him a faint smile, standing a bit straighter at the praise.

"Yeah…thanks, Jaune."

…

Stand Name: ?

Stand User: Miltia Malachite

Stats:

Power: A

Speed: C

Range: C

Persistence: B

Precision: C

Potential: C

…

Vera Nikos walked into a large office building.

She didn't introduce herself to the receptionist, simply walking past her and into a room at the back. The moment she walked in, she saw the lights were off. Flicking them on revealed exactly what she expected: Six people waiting for her, standing behind their chairs.

On the left were three people: Confounder, Switch, and Tremor.

On the right were three more: Light, Deep, and Lion.

As was normal, not one of them used their real names.

Confounder and Switch were dressed just as they were when they'd murdered Egat Winchester—albeit Switch had forgone his sunglasses to reveal his left eye to be brown and his right to be blue. Both were leaning back, their posture almost completely at ease.

Tremor stood next to them, clad in a dark-green, V-neck shirt with a pair of black jeans. His eyes were cloudy and unseeing, leaning on a white cane with a silver handle. His hair was black, falling in front of his unseeing eyes and across his tanned skin in an untameable mess.

Light and Deep stood side by side, both dressed nearly the same. Both wore white suit jackets over their bare chests, along with dark-blue pants tucked into brown boots. The only differences were a strip of black beneath Light's jacket revealing a bra, and that Deep was wearing a pair of sunglasses and a white bowtie.

Otherwise, both were nearly identical. Same pale skin, same blond hair styled in a pixie cut, and both were the same height. Even their smiles at Vera were the same, their movements eerily in unison.

The last of the group was Lion, who was by far the largest of the seven. She stood over a foot taller than Confounder, her eyes burning amber as she gazed between the group. Rippling muscles were unbound by anything but a measly strip of fabric that served as her bra, along with a pair of ripped jeans that looked a size too small—stretching tight over her muscular legs.

Her hair was a stark white and styled in a buzz-cut, her left eye clearly missing as indicated by a long, faded scar that ran across her face. Her right eye was the only one that moved, the towering woman giving a curt nod to Vera.

Vera walked past them all, sitting at the head of the table. "Six Strings, sit."

The six complied, all facing her.

She turned to Confounder. "Confounder, after your interrogation of Egat Winchester, what have you found out?"

Confounder stood, turning to face Vera. "He claimed that he hadn't snitched on us yet—I believe we got to him just in time. He stated he was defeated by two stand users after attempting to pickpocket several patrons of his restaurant with Song Bird."

All were silent, some casting worried glances at each other.

Confounder continued. "He didn't know the stand users' names. All he knew was that one was a male human, while the other was a female faunus. However, he did know that the human had a daughter who he continually called 'Rogue'."

Vera slowly nodded. "Good to know—keep investigating…and Tremor?"

"Yes, Keeper?"

"Do what you do best."

The blind man gave a faint smile. "Understood."