A/N: We've got the Marstons back. A few people wanted more of the Van der Linde gang on Remnant, but if we get too many outlaws on this side of the story, I'll lose track and mess something up. Now then, was that Sean? Who is Ghira's mysterious ally? Why did I not show the weapons from the previous chapter? You'll see. Hopefully I can get this done in time. I have Mortal Kombat 11, and I'm watching my boy Shao Khan absolutely murder the endless tower while I write this. AI controlled carnage is wonderful and cathartic. Also, got some armor ideas from Erron Black when it comes to Arthur and maybe John. Nothing too extravagant, since they haven't used any armor up until this point, but Grimm are tougher than lawmen and raiders.
Chapter 11
"Okay, so Burn Dust is like an incendiary shell, but it's because of the propellant, not the payload?" Arthur tried again, and Cain nodded wearily. They had been experimenting with new ammo for Arthur's weapons all day now that he had some that were Dust compatible. His new revolver was disassembled beside him and his rifle and shotgun were with Brok and Sindri. Gunpowder was used on Remnant, but Dust was far more versatile and available. Therefore, Arthur had to learn how to manipulate it the same way he had done in America. Unlike gunpowder, however, Dust came with a whole slew of different variations and combinations. His personal favorite was Gravity Dust, though there wasn't much of it on Menagerie. It was a real treat to nail a target right where he wanted to, and then watch as the rest of the test dummy crawled inside of itself. It was like shooting a black hole, according to Cain. Arthur didn't know what that was, but just decided to agree with him.
"Yes, though we use lower grade Burn in high velocity rounds because it generates more force when ignited. If you want to keep your weapon in one piece, remember that the lower grade is the propellant. If you put the higher grade Burn in front of the primer, your gun will explode." The Faunus used his good arm to move a few more vials over on the table, most with Burn Dust, though there was quite a bit of Lightning Dust as well. All from Ghira's personal supply, though he had been warned not to use all of it in their little lesson. Arthur held up the vial and carefully meted out enough Burn Dust for a single charge. Once that was done, he placed a simple ball of lead into the shell, then crimped it together so that the entire casing fit snugly. Cain nodded as he watched, standing back as Arthur picked up the newly crafted bullet and moved toward the test weapon that Brok had loaned them.
Unlike his new weapon, the test gun could only hold one round at a time. It was a break action handgun, and had a lot of space and metal around the chamber just in case there was a malfunction. It was designed to warp and expand instead of blowing up and taking the shooter's hand off, perfect for testing experimental ammunition. Arthur loaded the new ammo into the iron gun and aimed down the sights, toward the remaining test dummy. It was an old set of Atlesian armor held up on a pair of crossed sticks. Arthur had thought that was kinda targeted toward Atlas until Brok explained that the Atlesian military had the best basic armor on the planet. If the round could penetrate that, he would be fine with most other foes. Cain quickly resealed the Dust into its protective capsule, already leery of it without Arthur's stories of idiots playing with gunpowder. Sighting up on the test dummy, Arthur got his grip right and pulled the trigger. Another odd thing about Dust was that it was quieter than gunpowder, or at least it was to him. For someone like Cain or Sienna, it was probably still an uncomfortable sound. With a loud crack, the round punched through the dummy and went into the sand berm behind it, leaving a hole the size of a small apple in its wake. Arthur set the weapon down and walked the ten yards or so to the dummy and leaned in, studying the entry and exit wounds on the unfortunate training aid. The entrance wound of a bullet from the States was usually smaller than the exit wound, since it hit harder leaving than it did going in. Here though, the Dust made a similar hole on impact as it did on exit. It was still smaller, maybe a few more inches in diameter, but the difference was enough to pique Arthur's interest.
"Hey Cain!" He hollered, already walking back to the table. "Why does Dust usually leave such a big hole on the front end?" He figured since the White Fang operative used to work for the SDC, he'd be the prime expert in all things magical and granulated. Turns out, he was only half right. Cain shrugged his shoulder, scratching at the sling his bad arm was in.
"Who knows? Atlas put a lot of research into making Dust for combat purposes, but the SDC kept quiet on its application. People call it Nature's Wrath, so we know it doesn't play by all the rules. There are a few people that say it is leftover magic from a long forgotten era, but that's just stupid. Everyone knows magic doesn't exist." Said the man with unknown animal parts attached to him to the cowboy that was brought to Remnant from another plane of existence by a woman with silver eyes and a sword. Arthur took that assumption with a grain of salt, but ultimately said nothing.
(A/N: It occurs to me only now that I never actually described Cain.) The red headed man – American red, not crimson or burgundy like usual on Remnant – waved Arthur over and pushed his assembled new pistol forward with his free hand. How he had put it together with the other hand in a sling was beyond Arthur, but he ignored it in favor of picking up his new toy. The handle was made of mahogany, or the Remnant equivalent of it. The dark wood went well with the black steel of the revolver. It was larger than his Schofield revolvers, but only slightly. The big difference was in the barrel and the cylinder. The barrel was eight inches long and thick, large enough to fire heavy shells. The cylinder allowed for six rounds, but he could use Dust rounds of all kinds in conjunction with one another. The cylinder was black like the barrel and frame, but small golden rings surrounded each slot in the cylinder. The gold trim flowed along the top of the gun and the sights, running from the tip of the barrel to the grip as a continuous piece. The gold tracing along the frame came together with the golden leaves of an olive tree, wrapped around the cylinder and trigger like vines. The final part had been the inspiration for the name.
The Peacemaker.
Arthur hefted his new pistol, frowning at the increased weight. If he wanted to use it as smoothly as a Cattleman, he'd need to use Aura near constantly until he became used to how heavy it was. But it truly was a marvel of engineering, and a custom job. No matter how many outlaws he gunned down or stores he robbed, there would never be anything else like the thing in his hand. They'd had a bit of silver left over from Life, his previous pistol, and he'd asked Sindri to make a gift for Sienna. He still needed to apologize for his behavior at the dinner, regardless of the benefits that came of it. Even now, he was crashing at Tukson's place for fear that Sienna was waiting to gut him like a fish. She hadn't spoken to him in the two days that had passed, though he attributed it as much to her significant work load as he did her irritation with him. Maybe something shiny and pretty would smooth her ruffled feathers?
The outlaw spun his new pistol on his finger, still getting the gist of the weight, then opened the action and inserted six new shells. These rounds were supplied by Brok himself, and were perfectly suited for the Peacemaker. Arthur had quite a few of them, per their agreement, but he hadn't tested them yet. Now was the time, while they worked on his other request.
Arthur finished loading his revolver and holstered it, taking a relaxed stance and facing the dummy as he would an opposing duelist. Arthur breathed in a breath and held it, then released in a long exhale. His hand floated above his holster, relaxed and ready. Twenty years ago, it twitched and itched to draw like mad. Now that he was older and wiser, he was motionless as a statue, ready to move when he needed to and not an inch before. Behind him, Cain watched on curiously.
When he drew, it was almost faster than Cain could see. One moment, Arthur was standing still and facing the dummy. The next, six shots rang out in quick succession and Arthur stood with his pistol at his hip, his other hand resting on the hammer. Arthur sighed heavily and twirled the pistol, holstering it and walking up to the dummy. Where the previous shot with the Dust round had gone through the chest, Arthur's hip fire barrage drilled into the dummy's head. Five rounds combined to blow a hole in the target large enough for Arthur's hand to pass through unscathed, though to his disappointment there was a stray round that had destroyed the dummy's neck as well. The remainder was enough to keep the ruined head aloft, but only just.
"Damn." Arthur muttered as he examined the rogue shot. "I pulled on the last one." The weight of the Peacemaker would still take some getting used to, but that's why he was at the range with Cain. Arthur broke open the action and watched with a pleased grin as the rounds ejected themselves, leaving an opening for the new invention that he was still all kinds of happy about: speed loaders. Instead of feeding each round in manually, which he could still do in a pinch, there was a specialized ring of metal that held six rounds at once that he could load in and discard. Arthur pushed one in, making sure that the little ring came out before he closed the action. All six rounds entered the cylinder smoothly, and he closed the action with a flick of his wrist in the same way he would have with a double barrel shotgun. It clicked shut without a hitch, and he returned it to his holster.
"You sure you want this other one?" Cain called from the table, wrestling Arthur's other purchase up from a duffle bag. Unlike the Peacekeeper, which was crafted from the combined parts of Life and Death, the other contribution to his arsenal had been bought straight out from Brok and Sindri with no additional input from Arthur, save the name. The weapon finally came free, all fifteen pounds of it, to reveal a single tube, break action grenade launcher. Like the Peacekeeper, the stock was done in deep red mahogany, and the metal for the tube, sight, trigger, and frame was all done in black. No engravings decorated it, however, except for a small snarling tiger face on the inside of the frame, only visible when the action was broken open. It was capable of using larger Dust grenades and rounds than the Peacekeeper, and it was incredibly simple to use. Break action, insert grenade, close action, pull trigger. Repeat as needed. Arthur had requested something more capable of handling big Grimm, and Brok had just the thing in mind. It was the Deal Breaker, and Arthur couldn't wait to test it out.
"Way I figure it, I'd rather never have a reason to pull it out. But our little boat ride across the ocean told me I needed a bigger gun." He patted the new Peacekeeper on his side. "This little piece can handle almost anything, but I like to be prepared." Cain didn't look like he cared enough to argue, and just shrugged his good shoulder.
"If you insist. Most Huntsmen use combination weapons, with the mecha shift technology Atlas is so proud of. Part pistol, part grenade launcher, part sword. I've seen it done. But if you want to carry both of them, don't let me stop you." Not everyone liked to have a complicated piece of machinery on their hip at all times, and Arthur clearly enjoyed the simple designs. The less that was going on inside, the better. He didn't need an internal mechanism failing on him in the middle of a fight because he wanted a fancy weapon.
Arthur lifted the Deal Breaker up off of the table, hefting its weight and opening the action. His eyes ran over it critically, lingering on the snarling tiger next to the firing pin. Somehow, that was Brok's idea of a joke, he just knew it. Still, there was no complaining about a new weapon, especially one designed to blow stuff up. He'd used explosive rounds before, but this was apparently a whole other magnitude. Arthur grabbed one of the supplied grenades, a mixture of Burn and Wind Dust for a high explosive yield. Cain was still digging in the duffle bag, but he froze when he heard the hollow thunk of the round sliding into the tube.
"Uh, Arthur?" The Faunus stepped back, clearly nervous as the gunslinger closed the action with a satisfying click. "Are you CERTAIN you want to fire that here? We're really close to that target." The tremble in his voice gave Arthur pause, but he wasn't too worried about it.
"What are you talking about? We're fine all the way back here. I've thrown dynamite closer than this." And it was true. Every time he'd used explosives, the furthest he'd gone for cover had been forty yards. There had never been need of anything else.
"Arthur, there's more to that Dust than nitroglycerin and sawdust! We use it to fight high level Grimm! In that concentration, it could level the mansion!" Cain stepped forward as if to take the Deal Breaker away, and Arthur slowly let it fall from his shoulder. Was it really that powerful? Cain was the Dust Specialist, and therefore knew better than he did, but it was hard to imagine anything that destructive coming out of a modified rifle. Arthur looked down at it again, then reluctantly opened the action and removed the shell.
"Alright, I reckon you know better than I do. But don't you want to test it, just once? I kinda wanna see what yer talking about now." And if he was ever going to use the thing, he needed to know what it was capable of. Cain looked conflicted, torn between seeing explosive ordnance at work and not wanting to level the firing range. It was small enough as is, and if they wiped it off the map, Ghira would be frustrated about building a new one.
"Tell you what. Let's go see if there's anyone swimming over next to the beach. We can test it on the water." Cain suggested, glad that he hadn't just hauled off and pulled the trigger. Armageddon was worse for the people at ground zero, and he was already healing from one injury. Arthur nodded in agreement and placed the empty launcher back into the duffle bag and scooped it up, along with the empty boxes of ammunition from the Peacekeeper's stock. Cain gathered his Dust mixing supplies into a separate bag, one that was thankfully padded to prevent any unfortunate explosions. Especially since it was going to be on his back. Together, they left the firing range next to Brok and Sindri's compound, angling out toward the coast instead of Kuo Kuana. The coastal forest was full of thin, tall trees. Some were palms, but the rest were a species of tree Arthur wasn't quite familiar with. It did explain where the flexible, white wood that the Faunus built with came from. After a few minutes of tromping through the woods, Arthur and Cain emerged onto the beach itself. The sand was littered with dead branches and leaves, sticking up from just beneath the surface. Between the fronds and the sticks, Arthur was nervous about snakes more than anything, but Cain strode right through without a sweat.
Arthur looked down both sides of the beach, but there wasn't a soul around for miles. The pier where he had first arrived on Menagerie was a ways off, and the small dock near it that people used for fishing was empty as well. With no one around but fish and waves, Arthur and Cain were free to test out the Deal Breaker.
"Looks like the coast is clear." Whether the pun was intended or not, it still managed to get a chuckle from Arthur. Cain set his bag down in the shade of a tree, far enough away that its volatile contents would be safe from the Deal Breaker's explosive ordnance. Arthur removed his new weapon from its bag once more and loaded it, eager to see just what the fuss was about. His Faunus companion remained in the shade of the trees as Arthur stooped and picked up a decent sized coconut, hefting it in one hand while he held the launcher in the other. Pushing a little Aura into his arm, Arthur hurled the fruit as hard as he could into the ocean. It sailed thirty, forty, then fifty feet out before it finally began to drop. Once he heard the distant plop, Arthur loaded his grenade into the tube and closed the action. The bobbing brown speck disappeared with the ebb and flow of the tide, but Arthur kept the stock to his shoulder and waited patiently. He angled the launcher upward, trying to adjust for the distance. A grenade was heavier than a bullet, and began dropping a lot sooner. Since he'd never fired one before, he opted to aim higher.
He waited for several seconds, his target bobbing in and out of sight. When he finally did pull the trigger, the recoil kicked far less than he anticipated as the grenade left the barrel with a dull thump. He watched and waited, unsure if the round even detonated. Just as he let the stock fall from his shoulder and began to turn around and ask Cain what the problem was, a colossal pillar of water exploded angrily up into the air. The detonation sent a ripple through the water as well as the air, and the pressure of the explosion washed over Arthur and caused him to stagger back. The ocean's angry waves slowly returned to their normal rhythm as the water rained down from on high, and Arthur couldn't help the wide grin that spread across his face.
The column of water was visible from Ghira's mansion, and Sienna paused in her debate with the large man to watch it recede back into the ocean. She and Ghira both stopped talking and slowly stood up, wary of an invasion or Grimm intrusion. She and her predecessor stood in silence for a while, but nothing new came about besides the splash.
"What could that have been?" She wondered out loud. Ghira hummed in response, and turned to the door that led toward the main portion of the house. When he opened it, a uniformed guard from Kuo Kuana's security force was already waiting. The dog Faunus bowed in respect, then returned to full attention.
"The perimeter guard says that Cain and Morgan were testing new ordnance. There's no emergency reported at this time." She said dutifully. Ghira smirked at the report and nodded in thanks, then stepped back and closed the door once more. When he turned back to face Sienna, he found the woman fuming and facing the window, her arms crossed. Ghira was certain that if her Semblance allowed her to fire lasers from her eyes, Arthur Morgan would be a dead man even from this distance.
"You can't still be angry with him." Ghira began, walking over to the window as well but maintaining a respectful distance. Sienna's shoulders hunched at his comment, but she didn't contradict him right away. That, if anything, told Ghira that the outlaw in question was in far less hot water than Sienna let on.
"He embarrassed me in front of all of our people. It is as if he sought out the alcohol as soon as he could, like he has an addiction. And he still hasn't apologized!" Ghira heard the click of metal chains, and for a moment he thought that she would lash out in anger. Still, she knew better than to draw a weapon in his home. Before he could admonish her, however, Sienna relaxed and leaned against the wall, her chin resting on the window sill as her eyes searched the coast for her wayward friend. From the mansion, it would be impossible but all except a few avian Faunus to make out the difference between individual people, but it didn't stop her from trying to figure out which obscure speck of color was Arthur.
"After speaking with him yesterday morning, I think the fault is more in the host than the guest." Ghira offered. "The bartender offered him the strongest drink in the house, and I'm willing to bet that the only reason he sought the bar was because he had no place at the table." As soon as he had seated Sienna and been dismissed by Ghira, Arthur had really had no place to go. He'd been left to find his own way at the gathering, and considering his history, was it really so unbelievable that he seek the bar? Still, he'd had an expectation to not get absolutely shattered and actually witness her take over the White Fang. Instead he had made a fool of himself, and her by extension.
"It matters not why he got drunk so quickly. I'm more angry about him touching it in the first place. How could that be his first reaction to a gathering?" She scoffed at Ghira's helpless look. "I will speak to him, if it pleases you. I don't hate him, but he has displeased me greatly." The large Chieftain nodded sagely. Sienna turned and made to sit back down, but Ghira's pinched grin told her that he had more to say.
"I'm sure your ire has nothing to do with that comment about if he were ten years younger." Sienna Khan, who could run across the nearly vertical surface of a sailing ship while battling a ferocious sea dragon, tripped over nothing. The woman staggered, regained her footing, and drew herself back up to the height fit for the leader of the White Fang. Ghira had nothing to say about her furious blush, and neither did she.
Thirty minutes later, Sienna had finished discussing the relocation of the White Fang's headquarters with Ghira. Due to her proposal about the Fang taking a harsher stance on racism, Sienna suggested that Menagerie was no longer suitable as a base of operations. Any Kingdom that took exception to how the White Fang operated would surely target Kuo Kuana. Despite Ghira's insistence that true equality would come from peaceful demonstration, he had reluctantly agreed that a new headquarters would be necessary in the coming months. The best possible candidate was somewhere on Anima, close enough to render aid to Menagerie during crisis yet far enough away to distance Kuo Kuana from any retaliation.
Walking down the steps of Ghira's mansion, she considered his other words as well. Had she truly overreacted to Arthur's debauchery? The humiliation still lingered, and even as she walked through the village, she could hear the murmurs of those gossiping about her and her human friend. One would think that an island full of people with sharp senses would discourage gossip, but all it did was make them more honest in their whispers. Two months ago, they had no rumors to cluck over. Now, however...
One more thing that Arthur had brought upon her. He was ignorant of common courtesy, an alcoholic at best, her back yard smelled of horse manure, he'd nearly sabotaged her rise to power... and yet, she still felt bad about kicking him out of the house. She was no stranger to punishment, either giving or receiving. Many young whelps had been trimmed into shape by her firm guidance, and yet she got the queasy feeling in her stomach for withdrawing her hospitality to a homeless squatter? No, that was unfair. Arthur was more than just some vagabond; he'd almost given his life for Sienna and her comrades. He was far from home, and rather than panic and struggle with the fact he had stepped into her situation and helped, without asking a single thing in return. No, his only price had been directions to Vale, in exchange for his blood and sweat over the past two months. And suddenly she was being a poor host, all because he made her blush in front of some party goers. The shame returned, but now she was upset with her own actions, not his. Well done, Sienna. You might as well have slapped him for tripping over you. A pained grimace crossed her face, and Sienna could only shake her head. The pressure of becoming Supreme Leader was getting to her. She'd finally obtained the position she had sought, and one of her first actions, official or otherwise, had been to cast out a friend.
So caught up was she in her own spiraling thoughts, Sienna never noticed someone standing in front of her until she bumped into them. Embarrassed further, she recoiled and looked up to see who she had just pushed up against.
"I'm sorry, I was-" Her eyes widened when the exact subject of her thoughts stood before her, holding a paper package and wearing the same smile as always.
"Got something on yer mind?" Arthur asked amicably. No anger, no resentment. Just the same good natured cowboy that had walked into the wrong alley two months ago. Sienna found a smile on her face before she even realized, and she quickly hid it behind an indifferent huff.
"Nothing to concern yourself with. Where have you been cavorting off to these past two days? Trying to blow up the whole island?" There was no spite in her voice, but he winced anyway. She noticed a strap across his chest, and he nodded his head toward the grenade launcher on his back.
"Figured if I was gonna be tusslin' with some real monsters, I needed an upgrade. Those two boys out on the coast fixed me up real nice." He patted his hip as well, and Sienna saw that his pistols were gone, replaced by a single more modern revolver. He truly had been getting upgrades while she had been stuck with Ghira. What it did not explain, however, was the square package he was holding out to her.
"What's this?" She didn't want to touch it at first, wary of any reprisal. If not for kicking him out of the house like a common fishwife, then at least for taking pictures of him clutching Adam while they were at sea. He still had not gotten revenge for that.
"Figured I owed you an apology after the other night. Back where I come from, the best way to say sorry is with a gift." When she hesitantly took it, hefting its weight, he grinned and shrugged. "I promise I won't let it happen again." The package itself weighed only a little more than one of her explosive knives, and she idly wondered what on Remnant it could be. He'd been spending his time with Kuo Kuana's weapon smiths, so it could be a bomb for all that she knew.
"Arthur, I've been meaning to speak to you about-" Sienna blanched when his finger crossed her lips, halting the apology before it ever came. She was so surprised, she didn't know whether to back away or bite the offending digit off. Arthur just grinned and gestured toward the package.
"Enough of that nonsense. I paid good money for those two loons to put something together. I won't hear another word until you open it." He crossed his arms, standing firm in the middle of the path. People walked around them, offering curious stares and whispers as she stared at the package in her hand. Knowing full well that he wouldn't budge until she had done as he asked, Sienna undid the small twine wrapping with a huff.
"If this blows up in the middle of Kuo Kuana, I swear Arthur..." Whatever else she had to say was lost as the packaging fell away, revealing a small metal object the size of an grapefruit.
Arthur had paid Brok and Sindri to melt down Life and Death in order to have the materials needed for the Peacemaker. However, since it was done in black steel, there had been ample silver and a little bit of gold left over. At the gunslinger's behest, the two master craftsmen had shaped the left over precious metals into a beautiful orchid flower in full bloom. The petals were done in silver, the more plentiful metal, but there was gold lining the petals and made up the entirety of the stamen in the center. It was not done hastily or crudely, either; the curve of the petals and the slight tilt of the stamen made it seem as if someone had plucked a blossom and turned it to metal. Sienna's eyes roamed the small statue, unable to help the small smile that crossed her face.
"I've got all kinds of little knickknacks from my adventures." He explained, stepping back as she cupped the orchid with both hands. "It's about time you had one for yourself." He pointed his finger at the figurine and rolled his wrist, indicating that she should turn it over. Sienna delicately flipped it over, and gasped when she saw the emerald he had carried with him from America. The large stone had been cut to fit the base of the orchid, surrounded by a square gold frame to serve as a base for the whole statue. The head of the jewel was flush with the frame, and she would have never noticed it upon first looking at it. It was the work of a master, and it had come from Arthur's generosity and guns.
"Oh Arthur, this is..." She didn't really know what to say, even as passersby gawked at the wonderful little statue. "This is too much! I couldn't possibly take this from you." She tried to hand it back, but was forced to clutch it to her chest when Arthur stepped away from her instead of taking it. He shook his head and held his arms behind his back.
"No ma'am, this is the one time I will absolutely refuse an order. You gotta take it." He took his hat off and held it over his chest. "I got that emerald killing a lion, it only makes sense that I give it to a tiger." The horrible joke managed to make her smile, and she looked down at the priceless figurine in her hands. It wasn't like it was the first gift she had ever received, there had been many throughout her life from friends. But the fact that the small, delicate statue in her hands was born from his adventures, struggles and hardships that she had never taken part in. It was a piece of himself, or his history at least, and she was still trying to get over being so cross with him. It was almost enough to bring a tear to her eye.
"Arthur, I'm sorry about the other day. I was angry and embarrassed." She looked away, unable to face him directly while holding his gift. "I didn't mean for you to stay out past the night, but I was being selfish and petty. Can you forgive me?" Arthur looked at her for a long time, his face impassive as he considered her words. Sienna squirmed under his scrutiny, wishing he would say something just to break the tension. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then his cheek twitched. He just couldn't hold it anymore.
"You think you're the first woman I've embarrassed with some drink?" He asked with a bark of laughter. "No, you ain't got no cause to say sorry. I earned my place in the doghouse this time. Don't feel so bad about it." The gunslinger clapped her shoulder roughly and walked past her, heading back toward her house presumably. Sienna blinked in surprise, still processing the fact that he was totally okay with being left out in the figurative cold for two days, before she turned around with an arched brow.
"Who did you stay with, anyway?" She inquired, cupping her hands around the sliver figure he had given her. She hustled to catch up to him, and soon they were walking side by side once more. Menagerie wasn't the most forgiving island, but a seasoned survivor like Arthur could easily make it in the wild. Well, he could if he'd had his horse, who was currently tethered to the back porch of her bungalow. Arthur rolled his neck, glad to be back on speaking terms once more. It had been a bit lonely crashing on Tukson's couch, though the man himself had been full of questions regarding his 'book'. Still, telling the story was far better than just mulling it over in his head.
"Tukson wanted to ask me a few more questions. He's almost finished with that western he's been writing." Arthur grinned at her knowing look, and he shrugged off her scrutiny. "The last thing he needs is some editing and a name, and the myth of the Van der Linde gang is born." He turned and smiled at her, but the cheer didn't reach his eyes. His comrades and friends were gone, the survivors left in the hands of a woman he had known only for a day. To have someone write a book about his travels...it wasn't about him. It was about his friends, and how they'd lived and died.
"I'm sorry, Arthur. That can't be easy for you." She placed one hand on his shoulder, and he shrugged her off and shook his head.
"Nah, it ain't that bad. I've mourned them all already, just felt like doing them justice, is all. He ate it up, though. I can tell he really wants to tell that story." Arthur diverted the conversation back to Tukson. "The boy says he can get a shop set up in the city of Vale, near the main square according to him. Sounds like you'll have a friendly face there soon." A friend. Not an operative or an informant, but a friend. After spending time shaping the White Fang into the guerrilla force it was going to be, Sienna had to force herself not to see Tukson as an asset. It was proof once more that she needed guidance and temperance, and she was thankful to have both here. Guidance from Ghira, who still wanted the White Fang to succeed, and temperance from Arthur. The man who had lived a life the wrong way and knew the signs of a bad decision.
"We'll have to send him off properly. A fruit basket seems a little cliché, don't you think?" Arthur chuckled at that, also having the inside knowledge that Tukson was more a meat and veggies kind of guy. There wasn't a single apple or strawberry in his house.
"I was thinking that if we can come up with a name, he'll stop tearing his hair out." Arthur supplied. "Those claws of his can't be good for his head." The image of Tukson tearing out strands of hair with his claws extended brought a chuckle to her lips, and together they walked back to her bungalow. There had been no screaming match, no hurtful words. He'd apologized with a gift, she had admitted her own wrongs, and they'd gone right back to being friends. Were it not for his peace offering, Sienna would have felt that Arthur hadn't been slighted in the first place. Sienna still felt a little bad about kicking Arthur out, but now it was bearable at least. And he'd earned her forgiveness just this once.
When they reached her shaded home, Arthur was about to open the door when a vibrating noise could be heard from his pouch. Frowning in confusion, Arthur drew the scroll from his satchel and opened it. The number that was calling was clearly displayed, which meant it wasn't someone he was familiar with. Nevertheless, he opened the call anyway, and was rewarded with a face he thought he'd never see again. And judging by Abigail's expression, the feeling was mutual.
"Abigail?!" He barked out, clearly as surprised to see her as she was him. Beside him, Sienna peeked over to shoulder to see one of the Van der Linde gang. "What the hell are you doing calling me? Where are ya?"
"Arthur, you really are alive!" The relief in her voice was palpable, but also tinged with fear. She wasn't calling just because she could; something was wrong. "Please, Arthur. You have to help! Are you anywhere near Shade Academy?" Arthur looked up at Sienna sheepishly, and the Faunus stepped back to put her gift up inside of her house. When he looked back, that pleading expression was still on Abigail's face.
"Not really. On a different continent, to be honest. How'd you get here?" Abigail shook her head, dismissing his question in a panic.
"I need you in Vacuo now! A group of men came by and captured John! I've got Jack with me, but I don't know who else I can call!" That kicked Arthur right in the pants. They'd come here from America, and John had already gotten in trouble? That figured.
"Where the hell is Summer? I told her to take care of y'all, not turn you out in the damned desert!" His disappointment in the silver eyed woman reached another level.
"She said she couldn't stay in Vacuo, something about being recognized. Please, Arthur! We're all alone in this strange city, and I don't know how to get back to Saint Denis." Abigail was a capable woman, but even she would be out of her depth in a city like Vacuo. Dammit, John.
"I'll be there as soon as I can. In the meantime, see if you can find anyone with the White Fang. They're a friendly group, as long as you tell them you know me. If that don't work, tell them you're a friend of Supreme Leader Khan and Chieftain Belladonna. They should be able to take care of you." Sienna came back out upon hearing her name, and Arthur sent her a worried look. She nodded her head toward the path that led to the harbor, and together they started walking at a steady pace.
"I'll try to remember all of that. Just please hurry! I only just got him back, I can't lose him again." Abigail pleaded.
"I'll be there soon, Abby. Just be careful and don't trust anyone other than the White Fang. I'll be in touch." With that, he hung up the call. Arthur released a pained sigh as he readjusted his hat, and Sienna could only shake her head.
"Looks like you have to go off and save the day again, cowboy." She said wryly. Too lose him so soon after making amends was a bitter thing, but Sienna knew Arthur too well to expect him to ignore the cry for help. And now that she was Supreme Leader of the White Fang, she couldn't go gallivanting across Remnant with him. Her place was on Menagerie, and his was with his old gang. For now, at least.
"I know. I wish I could stick around for the official hand over, but I can't just leave them out there." He looked over at her with a curious expression. "And what will the great Sienna Khan do in my absence? Keep fighting the good fight?"
"There are a few sites on Anima that may make good bases, as the White Fang will need some places to rest that are further from home. Odds are, by the time you've handled business in Vacuo, I'll be directing from a new headquarters." She drifted off for a moment as they walked, giving Arthur time to whistle for Famine. He heard the horse's answering whinny, though who knew quite where the animal was coming from. He was mysterious when left alone. "I hate saying goodbye. Especially after all the progress we've made." The two continued up the main street, getting closer to the pier even as the distant sound of galloping hooves reached their ears.
The market was thinner than the last time they'd walked it together, as most of Kuo Kuana's citizens were preparing for supper at home. A few wayward shoppers still browsed the open stalls, but most of the Faunus had gone home for the day. As such, only the harbormaster was anywhere near the village's pier. The small, mousy old man stayed in a small shack next to the southernmost dock, and it was there that Arthur and Sienna made their way. Arthur knocked on the door and was prepared to wait, but Sienna just stepped past him and strode right into the little office. The windows were shuttered and reinforced, likely in case of a severe storm, though the old wooden architecture made Arthur think that the whole building would go if the sea started shipping green. The gray haired old man sat behind a chest high counter, where several log books and an old computer sat ready to plot and plan for ships that came and went. A blackboard next to the counter indicated the recent arrivals and departures, and there was a passenger ship coming to Kuo Kuana in two hours.
"Ah, I didn't see you there Leader Khan. Welcome." The old man greeted, his eyes magnified by bottle thick spectacles. Sienna nodded in greeting as well, then gestured toward Arthur.
"My friend here seeks passage to the mainland. Could you arrange that for him, please?" Arthur crossed his arms and waited as the old man meticulously consulted his logs, drawing his finger across the pages as he searched for relevant information.
"Yes, I believe the incoming cutter could take him. Their return trip was only for a few travelers and some shipments of rum, so I'm sure the captain could abide an additional passenger."
"And what about a horse?" The harbormaster paused at the odd request, and considered it with some thought. While he did so, Sienna offered a teasing smirk Arthur's way, and he could only shake his head. When was she going to stop giving him hell about Famine? Honestly, she acted like horse riding was an outdated concept.
"That, err, might take some more convincing." The mousy little man shifted his papers around. "His original cargo was livestock when he made port in Shiroyama, so he should have the amenities available. There is usually a boarding cost based on weight, however. Standard charge is one hundred lien for animals larger than fifty pounds." Arthur whistled in surprise at that, knowing full well that his wallet couldn't support a venture like that. Famine was expensive, not to mention all the things he kept on the horse. His camping gear, the Relic of Choice, his weapons...
"Sounds like you're traveling light this time, cowboy." Sienna commented. "Normally I'd cover it, but on such short notice, I don't really have the funds either." Arthur waved it off with a weary sigh. As much as he loved Famine, he wasn't dependent on the Arabian. He could travel without him, as long as Sienna was willing to keep up with the mischievous creature.
"If you could keep him, that would be appreciated." Arthur said with a bow. Sienna acted as if she would consider it, then nodded with a small smile.
"I suppose I can look after him. He is kinder company than his rider, at any rate." Arthur sent her a betrayed look. Thirty minutes later, the harbormaster was paid for the trip to Shiroyama, and Arthur had transferred as many things from Famine's saddle to himself as he could handle. It would be a little slower, traveling while burdened, but Sienna assured him that there were regular trucks traveling from the port to Vacuo. The most tedious part of his journey would be getting from Shiroyama to the coast of Vacuo. That, and figuring out just how in God's name John had managed to get captured right off the damn bat!
The first punch didn't so much wake John up as it did make him aware of his the surroundings. The second one, though? That got his eyes open real quick. A third turned his head to the side for good measure, and this time he choked out a cough. The mysterious slugger stepped back, though the bright light behind him cast the man in shadow. John blinked wearily and looked around, trying to figure out where he was and who exactly he was dealing with. Were these Del Lobos, or maybe O'Driscolls? Whatever weird voodoo Summer had used to get them there left him wondering, but there were a whole bunch of folks looking to knock his teeth out.
"We've been looking for you for some time, cowpoke." The interrogator rasped, and John spit a globule of blood onto the floor. Man, that name sucked.
"Who the hell's we? You got a mouse in yer pocket?" John jeered, and got a harsh slap that turned him the other way as a reward. Alright, this guy had a temper on him. Good to know.
"You got a lot of nerve, showing your face back here. After what you did, you're lucky the boss didn't just gut you and leave you for the Grimm." Grimm? Back here? This was his first time in Vacuo. Unless they had renamed New Austin and filled it full of animal people, John was fairly certain he'd never set foot in this town. He worked his wrists behind him, trying to get past the ropes that bound them.
"I think you got the wrong fella. I ain't never been in these parts before." John said with a grin, his scars from the wolf encounter stretching as he did. "And I certainly ain't done nothing to you."
"Don't play dumb with me." The man backhanded him, and nearly knocked him onto the dusty floor. John groaned after that one, the pain in his jaw causing some tears to sting his eyes. That one smarted. The man made a move to continue the beating, but a knock on the door made him pause. The interrogator stepped back to answer the door, letting John see his back. The man had a red shirt with a collar and a leather vest, the sleeves shortened to above his elbow. His hair was gray, like if he were fifty years old, but from the look of him he couldn't be over thirty. John hoped he got trench foot.
"How goes the questioning, Mr. Black?" A man asked, his voice one of an aristocrat. The interrogator, now named Mr. Black, stepped back and allowed a new man into the room. This one was quite tall, broad in the shoulders and deep in the chest. He wore a tan suit over a white shirt, and presumably pleated slacks as well. His brown hair was streaked with gray and close cropped, and his hawkish gaze fell on John. Though he was smiling, there was no warmth in the expression.
"He's a stubborn fool, this one. Swears that he's never been here before." Black reported, his face still shadowed by the hanging light bulb. The suited man cocked a brow at that, then stepped a little closer to examine John. Without his hat, there was no way to hinder the action, but John just winced and tried to look determined. On the inside, he was trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. The last time anyone in the gang had survived a kidnapping like this, Arthur had gotten a shotgun put to his shoulder. Hopefully he wouldn't have to go to that length. The suited man peered at him for a few more minutes, then closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He stood up and stepped back toward the door, motioning for the interrogator to follow. When they stood up, the suited man spoke quietly, but John could still hear them speak.
"Mr. Black, I believe we have the wrong man." The suited man said slowly, causing the interrogator to blanch and look at John harder, as if there were some secret characteristic that he'd missed.
:"You said to look for a man in a wide brim hat with dark hair and facial scars. This man matches that description, Mr. Winchester." Black defended, and the suited man stood up to his full height as he looked down on the interrogator.
"And obviously you are mistaken. I saw the man with my own eyes, and this is not him. The degenerate that ruined my reputation is older than this man, and had lighter hair." Winchester turned to face John, already moving to untie the ropes himself. "I am terribly sorry for the confusion, sir. My associate owes you an apology, and I hope you will keep this between us." John's wrists came free and he immediately stood from the chair and placed his back to the wall, facing both men with a displeased expression. His holster was empty and his knife was gone, but that didn't mean he was defenseless. And he had a score to settle now.
"Kiss my ass! Now that I ain't tied like a hog, let's see how rough you are!" He brought up his fists and advanced on Black, who looked more than willing to pick up where they had left off. Were it not for Winchester stepping between them, they would have come to blows. "You kidnapped me! And took me away from my family! You think I'm just gonna take that lying down?"
"All I'm asking is that you let me explain myself. We are searching for a dangerous criminal, and as you just heard you fit the rough description." Winchester kept himself between the two men, and slowly they stood down. John was far from pacified, however.
"If you don't let me go right now, I'll knock every tooth you have down your throat." John snarled menacingly, his long hair falling across his face as he glared daggers at Black. The man's broad nose just begged to be broken, and he looked far too confident to just be a push over. He had some skill, and John was ready to test it. There would be no catching him by surprise this time.
"Alright, alright. We'll let you go. In fact, I have an associate outside that was inquiring about you. If you'll come with me, I'm sure we can get this all sorted out." Winchester kept using that same calming tone, but John's tail was up and he was spitting mad. The door opened at Winchester's insistence, however, and the next slew of curses died on John's tongue. It was like he was seeing a ghost.
"Looking good there, English! How's the missus?"
Writing this from D.C. My throat hurts, the police unity tour is under way, and there are 50,000 of my brothers and sisters here in the city. It's a big get together to celebrate the fallen and remember those that are no longer with us. Also beer.