A/N:In case you guys didn't figure it out, Sean McGuire is back from the dead! But how can this be? How did he get here? Is Remnant some kind of afterlife for America? We'll get more into it later, but it's a major plot point so I can't spoil too much now. Got good feedback from everyone on the weapons, and we've come to the end of the Eye of the Tiger arc. Arthur and Sienna have separated for an extensive amount of time, and will likely be different people when they meet again. And we didn't even get a goodbye kiss...it's almost as if they don't consider romantic feelings towards each other. Damn.
Chapter 12
"That there's an old friend of mine, Sammy." Sean McGuire stepped further into the room to stand behind Winchester and Black. The two of them looked between John and the newcomer warily, but John was so surprised that he could only stand, slack-jawed, and stare at the ghost from his past. He hadn't been in Rhodes when Sean had been shot, but Arthur and Bill both confirmed that he had been dead and buried. Judging by how he stood in front of John with the same cocky grin he had always worn, that had been a lie.
But then again, Sean was not the same. He had aged, the youthful shape of his face hardened and more lean. Where his left eye had been, mottled and scarred flesh met with smooth steel, and the entire left side of his eye was covered in metal. The eye itself was a single red light, about two inches wide and an inch long and staring out at John like the devil himself. His bowler hat had been traded for a wider, flat town hat. The green shotgun coat and unbuttoned green vest remained the same, though he had the propriety to wear a bow tie and button his shirt.
"How..." John began, but the sheer shock stopped him from forming any further words. Sean laughed loudly and clapped his hands, just as he had always done, and pointed at the dumbfounded look on John's face.
"Ha ha! Yeah, the last you heard of me I was under the weather, eh English? Well, let's just say I know a few fellas." He held up a finger to his lips as he clapped, a subtle motion born from years of fooling foppish morons and gullible lawmen alike. He'd explain the rest later. Still, John was glad to see a familiar face. With the signal received, Sean clapped a hand on the shoulders of Black and Winchester each.
"I've only been in town for a few days, and I've already heard the news. Some horse fucking cowboy came along and mucked things up right for you, eh Sammy?" It was clear Winchester detested the name 'Sammy', though he made a halfhearted attempt to hide it. Black was under no such compulsion and sneered at the mere touch of the Irishman. Just from that interaction right there, however, John could assume that either Sean or someone that he represented was a very powerful person. It was the same grudging respect allowed whenever Dutch had walked into the room. The two didn't like Sean, but they wouldn't cross him unless it was worth a fight.
"Yes, that is true Mister McGuire." Winchester said stiffly, his eyes following Sean as he stepped by and appraised John of his injuries. Sean poked and prodded at John's bruised face, causing the other outlaw to smack his hand out of the way and glare at him. Sean shrugged off John's anger just as easily as he had always done, but Marston still couldn't fathom how he was standing in front of him. And what was with the metal eye? "We thought this man was the culprit, but obviously we were mistaken. You say that you know him?" Sean leaned in like he was examining more wounds, but John heard him speak softly. Follow my lead. With that he turned around, leaving John to decide whether he participated in whatever farce that Sean was about to concoct, or he could figure his own way out of the dark interrogation room in a building he wasn't familiar with.
"This is my boy, Johnny! We go way back, the poor bum. I remember stealing teeth from old ladies with this chap." Sean clapped John on the shoulder roughly and chuckled, and John noticed the way that Winchester stiffened when Sean said that the two went back. Whatever position Sean had made for himself, it was enough to give this suit pause. The interrogator Black was less affected, but he clearly wasn't about to upset his employer anymore than he already had. Sean had only just arrived, and he already had them on the back foot. A big change from the loudmouth Irishman he'd known.
"Sean always had my back, even when we had our disagreements." John agreed. "It's been a while, hasn't it Sean?" The more comfortable with each other they seemed, the more pressure was put on Winchester. And judging by the pinched look on his face, the man was feeling it.
"Now, you will be sure to tell Junior that we made a mistake." Winchester began, and Sean ceased his wandering around the room to focus on the shipping magnate. "Obviously we accosted the wrong man, but there is no harm in letting bygones be bygones, is there?" It was a request, and just a few horse hairs shy of a plea, but Sean was nodding along with it.
"Aye, I see no reason to make a mess of things over a little disagreement. Whadaya tink, Johnny boy? Leave these fellas to their business?" Sean turned and tossed John his hat and weapons, which had been sitting in a chair next to the wall. John sheathed his knife and holstered his pistol with a twirl, then placed his hat back on his head. The whole time, his burning glare never left Black. John walked up until he was face to face with the man, though Black did not flinch. He held the stare for a few moments, then hit Black as hard as he could in the chin with a right cross. The man must have been expecting it because it felt like he'd struck a brick wall, but it was still enough to put the hired gun on one knee. John shook out his hand once, already feeling the telltale signs of swelling as he did so.
"Now we're good. Next time, make sure you got the right guy before you tie him to a chair." John snarled, and followed Sean out the door. He heard Black curse, but found a small amount of amusement in the fact that Winchester made no move to help him. The door led to the lobby of some shipping store, judging by the pictures of vehicles and packages on the walls. A nervous store clerk sat outside, a blonde man that was far too focused on writing on a clipboard for what the action required. He adamantly refused to make eye contact with John, and Sean ignored him altogether. The Irishman shoved the doors to the shop open, and John stepped out once more into the blinding sunlight. They were still in Vacuo, judging by the dusty streets and the shifty gazes on the populace, but John didn't recognize it from their initial introduction to the city. Sean seemed perfectly at home in the desert city, and took a sharp left turn without even a word to the outlaw following him. John did his best to keep up with the blistering pace that Sean set, his gaze lingering on McGuire's artificial eye the entire time. Even from behind and with Sean's messy hair, John still still see the metal plate gleaming in the sun. A million questions buzzed in his mind, not the least of which how Sean was still alive and not rotting in a grave outside of Rhodes.
Before John could even think to stop Sean and ask him just what in the hell was going on, they had cut down two streets and ducked into an alleyway. Sean was moving with a purpose, clearly trying to get as far away from the shop as possible. If John didn't believe that it was for good reason, he'd have stopped the red haired man a long time ago and demanded answers. The alleyway was shaded and quiet, stuck between two store fronts. It ended with a wall where the stores butted up against a normal building, but besides a couple bags of trash they were alone. Only then did Sean turn around, and for the first time in the few minutes that John had seen him, the easy cheer dropped from his face. Sean aged ten years in an instant, and it cut off the furious tirade that John had in store for him.
"Been awhile, eh John?" Sean asked, and his red artificial eye rotated slightly to focus on him. John held his hands outward at his sides, gesturing around them and looking incredulously at Sean.
"Been awhile? Me and my family get dumped off into this weird place, you're back from the dead, and all I get is 'been awhile'?!" John jabbed a finger at Sean, who took it without offense or remorse. "You've got ten seconds to explain just what the hell is going on before I start swinging." He demanded the answers, though it wasn't so much out of anger as it was fear and confusion. So much was going against how John saw the world in so short of a time, he didn't really know how to take it. And where did Arthur factor into all of this? Summer had claimed that she was friends with him, and the men that had snatched him were after another man wearing similar clothing that had disrupted some shady operations. If that didn't fit Arthur to a tee, then John would eat his hat.
"Alright, alright. Keep your knuckles to yourself. It'd do you more harm than good anyway." Sean fluttered his fingers in the air, and John was amazed to see an odd shimmer cover them, like a film of white light. John started to ask, but Sean continued to speak. "I got to this freaky place about a year ago now, though I can't really say how. One minute, I was walking down the street in Rhodes with Arthur and the boys, the next...nothing. I can't remember what happened after that, only that someone carried me. There were voices, true, but my noggin wasn't exactly put together if you catch my drift." He tapped the metal frame around his eye in emphasis.
"Arthur said you were shot in the head. He watched you bleed all over the ground with a goddamn hole in your face!" John backed away from the Irishman, unsure if he himself was dead or not. Sean held up a hand to stall him, then pointed at his prosthetic eye once more.
"I didn't exactly come out if unscathed, brother. Unless you thought this was some kind of fashion statement. All I know is, I woke up in the city of Vale with a huge headache and this stuck in me skull. I wasn't asked if I wanted a piece of metal in my head that acts like an eye and bleeding talks to me!" A hint of desperation crept into his voice, and Sean's easy going demeanor was replaced by one of fear. "I was told that I got dropped off by a man with Atlas, and to get off the fucking road. No how are you, no one giving three shits if I was alive or dead. And not a single person knew how to help me get back to the gang. So, I did what I do best. I survived. I found work with a local guy that needed muscle, he activated my Aura, and I've been busting heads ever since." There was another word he wasn't familiar with. Aura. What the hell was that about?
"You say that like it's supposed to mean something. Aura? What the hell are you talking about?" Sean flexed his hand, and once again the strange light covered the limb right in front of John's eyes. Sean grinned toothily, and the light faded.
"The people around here managed to find a way to weaponize all that is man, my friend. Your soul doesn't just ride around in your chest until Judgment Day, Johnny boy! Here, you can make it work for you." Eager to test it, Sean turned around and punched the nearest wall. A loud crack pierced the air, but instead of drawing back bloodied knuckles and a broken hand, Sean stepped back to not only reveal that his hand was fine, but there was an inch and a half indentation in the wall where he had struck it. Sean waved his hand in front of himself to show off the lack of injury, and John could only remove his hat and stare. It was impossible, the talk of medicine men and monks alike, and yet John had witnessed it himself.
"How...I don't even know what to ask. How the hell can you do that? Where did you learn? Can everyone here do it?" Before he could let his confusion and curiosity lead him further down that rabbit hole, another fear gripped him. "Wait, forget all that. Where's Abigail and Jack? Are they safe?" To his disappointment, Sean merely shrugged his shoulders.
"No idea, Johnny Boy. I came looking for Arthur and found you. I was as surprised as you are. But if your missus is still around here, they'll likely be near the market district. Most unfortunate souls wind up there. What I have to ask you, John, is what you're willing to do now that you're here." Sean reached forward and grasped John by the shoulder, startling him. "I've been looking all year, and there's no way back home. I don't even know how you got here, but I do know this. Once you're here, you're here. Now, I've got some real winning work lined up and I know you can do it. But I need you to trust me, lad." Sean's natural eye was open and honest, as unsettling as the other one was. John was already in over his head considering the past eighteen hours. The showdown between the gang and Summer, traveling to Vacuo, and getting kidnapped had all been a bit much, but Sean had been the breaking point. One of those at a time, that would be a bad day, but all of them together finally robbed him of reason.
"I don't give a sweaty ol' FUCK about your work, Sean! I won't set one foot anywhere until I find my family and make sure they're okay!" John grabbed Sean by the collar and shook him. "I don't have a single fucking reason to trust you right now, Sean, you or this weird ass city! Now bring me my family or I will put holes in your goddamned skull!" Sean didn't resist as John shook him, even as the outlaw himself shook with fear and anxiety. The Irishman tolerated his ire for a few more seconds before he used his freakishly increased strength to stop John and push him away. Marston took a few shaky breaths, then his hand dropped to his hip to draw his revolver. Sean watched his hand dropped, and then suddenly he wasn't there anymore.
John had dealt with some fast people in his life, usually cutthroats and pickpockets. He'd learned to track the movements of a person and how they would prep for the next action. This wasn't the same. One second Sean had been standing in front of him, the next he was no longer there. Not moving to one side or the other, not ducking out of sight; Sean was completely gone. The sudden change made John freeze, and that extra second was enough for an iron grip to wrap around his wrist. The wall that Sean had punched rushed up to his face as his wrist was wrenched painfully behind his back. John cried out in surprise and pain as he was pressed against the wall. Sean's hat fell off to the side past John, but he couldn't turn around thanks to the Irishman's freakish strength. The two had wrestled back at camp, a way to pass the time and stay fit, and back then the fight had not been this one sided.
"I don't make these offers lightly, Johnny Boy. I can't stress enough how in over our heads we are. This world plays by different rules, and I've done a bang up job staying alive here. I'm offering to help you and your family, but you gotta listen to me. Draw on me like that again, and we'll be fightin' for real." The pressure on his wrist slackened and Sean stepped back, allowing John to turn around and face the Irishman. His artificial eye burned red as Sean stared John down, and the outlaw couldn't help but turn his head. This wasn't the young gun that shot his mouth off and cut up with the gang at every opportunity, eager to prove himself to Dutch and the others. This Sean was different, in more ways than just physical. He'd been forced to change, and judging by the way he'd outmaneuvered John's draw it wasn't by choice. Sean was dangerous now, and he'd become dangerous to stay alive. That wasn't the story Summer had told them, and hopefully that wasn't the one that Arthur was living. But still, first things first.
"I got out of all that shit. As long as Abby and Jack are okay, I won't have to pull the trigger ever again." He took a breath, and his brain finally caught up to his mouth. "But I guess you tried that too, didn't you?" Sean nodded and stooped to pick up his hat, then John heard a strange metallic click. When the Irishman finished donning his hat, there was a cigarette in his mouth, and a strange contraption holding a flame. He lit it and took a deep drag on the cig, then closed the lighter with a flick of his wrist.
"This eye of mine didn't come cheap, you know. I got stuck with the bill to an expensive Atlesian doctor, and I've been working to pay it off ever since. It's part of why I got into the underground in Vale. I'm offering you a slice of the work because there's no ranching in this world that you could do. Things are too different." Sean took another drag, and John noticed that he didn't offer one to him. Yeah, he was pissed about the draw. "The only thing you and I know to do is fight and steal Johnny Boy, and there's no honest work that falls under that category. If you want to feed the kid, you're going to have to get dirty again."
"I ain't afraid of a little work, but my family comes first. If that's what it takes, then I'll do it. But are you sure that you can trust the people you're working for? I ain't gonna put Abby and Jack at risk if they're too dirty to deal with."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but first off let's go find the lad and lass." Sean took one last puff on the cigarette and flicked it away, not caring that half of it was left. "I'll check the usual places and be back in a moment." John turned to walk out with him, and suddenly he was aware that he was alone. There was no sound, nothing to tell him that Sean had gone. There was just an absence, made noticeable by years of instincts when something was behind you. John turned back to where Sean had been, but the Irishman was nowhere to be found. What the hell is this? The outlaw thought to himself as he scratched his cheek. There passed a few moments of silence as John considered heading out on his own while Sean worked his brand of craziness, but the decision was taken from him when he heard the lighter open once more. Leaning up against the wall, Sean stood as if he'd never left. He lit another cigarette, and this time looked to keep this one as he dragged on it more slowly.
"They're over close to Dusty Oasis, ironically enough. Seems Abigail is fit to be tied, you lucky bugger. I'd hate to be a fly on the wall when she sees you again." John looked at him quizzically, and Sean grinned like he was privy to some secret joke. "Go ahead, ask Uncle Sean how he does it. I can see it eating at you."
"How in the hell did you do that?" John rasped, and Sean took the cigarette from his mouth and grinned widely. "You just disappeared. You did it before, too!" It had been how he'd gotten behind John. Sean puffed on his cig once more, then waved toward the street.
"It's called a Semblance, Johnny Boy, and I'll tell you all about them on the way. Maybe you'll get lucky and get one too. But right now, we need to find that woman of yours before she tears down the walls." Sean led the way out of the alley, and John did his best to follow, keeping close to the dead man on the streets of the magical city. Neither one of them noticed the black bird that sat above them, it's eye glowing red from within a white mask.
"Still no response?" Sienna's face was blurred by the distance and his older scroll, but he could still see the sympathy in her expression. The ship to Vacuo was much smaller than the one they had taken to Menagerie, but that also meant they were moving faster too. It would only take three days to reach the Kingdom this time, and Arthur was glad for the expedience.
"None. I know Abby probably ain't used to all this technology, but I won't rule anything out until I get eyes on 'em. How are things on your end?" He still regretting running out before she took over the White Fang, good reason or not. She'd worked hard to get to where she was, and seeing her in action would have been a real treat. Still, after he got the Marston problem handled, he could come back and visit.
"Slow going, though it can't be helped at this point." Sienna said with a sigh. "There are a lot of people that have pledged to Ghira for support, and they must travel to Menagerie to pledge themselves to me. If they do not, then it is my responsibility to find out why and try to win them over." From her face, it would be a loathsome task. Arthur couldn't but think that it was better her than him; he wasn't the most diplomatic of folks.
"I'm sure they'll see reason. The Lady Khan has her head on straight, unlike some of these yahoos." Arthur grinned again. "When I get done here, you'll have to show me around your new headquarters." If it was going to be built to her specifications, then he knew it would be spartan and strong, like the woman herself. Besides the little trinket he'd given her and a few treasured photos, Sienna didn't really decorate her home much. Too expensive to serve no purpose, or something along those lines.
"That's if we even get it built. I'm already facing opposition in the form of the Lupin brothers. They believe that Menagerie is the seat of Faunus power, and should be the host of the White Fang. They don't understand that we protect our people by separating ourselves from them. It will be a trying experience, convincing them to shift. But I WILL move them." The conviction in her voice was intoxicating, and Arthur was reminded once again that she was leader material and he was not. Sienna seemed born for the role of leader, as dedicated as she was to her people and her duty. Arthur was used to looking out for himself and a few others, but the entirety of the White Fang? He'd rather piss into a strong wind, because that's what it would wind up being like anyway.
"I have no doubt. Keep me updated, and take care of yourself Sienna. I plan on making it up to you for missing your big day." He wasn't sure how he'd do it, but seeing her face dust with red was worth it anyway.
"I...will keep that in mind. Be safe, Arthur. Try not to fight anymore sea dragons." She said, ignoring his previous comment. "And do take care of yourself. You seem to get into more trouble than is required at times." Considering he hadn't even managed to tell her half of the tales from America, Sienna had no idea just how true that statement was.
"No promises. I'll see ya when I see ya." With that, he closed the scroll and ended the call. He leaned against the railing to allow a few more sailors to cross behind him, and in doing so they jostled the weapons on his back. His shotgun was slung over his left shoulder, chambered for Dust rounds thanks to Brok and Sindri, while his rifle had the same treatment and was on his right. The Deal Breaker was fastened to his belt and hung from the middle of his back. The extra weight on his back was manageable, but it was also a little bulky. He was also carrying rounds for all three, as well as the Peacemaker, and that was the real hassle. It also earned him some wayward looks from other passengers, but they eventually ignored him as a Huntsman or something similar.
Abigail had been a welcome sight at first, but the day and a half at sea had put into perspective just how worrisome it was to see her like he had. Abby and Jack were the closest thing to innocents in the gang, and they had been dropped into Vacuo to fend for themselves. Losing John on top of that must have taken a heavy toll on the woman. And on that note, John's disappearance didn't ring like a coincidence. Had it happened in Mistral or Atlas, Arthur could have written it off as merely chance. But compared to the wide and colorful varieties that people dressed in Remnant, Marston could be considered similar to Arthur. Another man dressed like a cowboy walking around a city where he and Sienna had caused a ruckus? That could have only been bad news. Either way, Arthur had a lead to follow when he reached the city: Commissioner Redfield. The leader of the Vacuo police force had an axe to grind with Sam Winchester. That made him useful, and hopefully the goodwill that came from Sienna's cooperation would do him some good. Of course, that also meant that he had to be careful. Suits like Winchester weren't the type to take a slight lying down, and Arthur stuck out like a sore thumb. Probably the reason John had been nabbed to start with.
At least I left Famine behind. The horse would have been infinitely useful for hauling his things, but he also made it hard to blend in. All Arthur had to do to slip by most sentries would be to take off his hat and blend in with the crowd. And when he reached the city, that was his full intention; slip in, find the Marstons, and be gone by the time anyone came looking for them. It was so simple, it couldn't go wrong.
"But, just to be safe." He muttered to himself, and opened his scroll once more. He dialed the number that Abigail had called him from and watched as it rang, split between hoping she would answer and expecting that she would not. It baffled him, really, that she could figure out how to call him when John went missing, but she couldn't be bothered to answer afterwards. It didn't bode well for their general well-being. Given how new and alien Remnant would be to a woman like Abigail, she would have been jumping at a chance to speak with Arthur. That she was silent implied that she was either captured or constantly occupied by something more important.
Arthur put the scroll away with a sigh and stood up from the rail, stretching as much as his added weight would allow. There were roughly eighteen hours between him and the coast, and Arthur planned on being well rested when he arrived. If he timed it right, a little social interaction with the crew would leave him with enough time to sleep and hop off the ship well rested. With that in mind, he set off for the cabin he had been assigned, though this one was shared with two other passengers as well. A man and his daughter, apparently in transit from Atlas of all places. Why the two of them had taken such a roundabout way was both beyond his reasoning and not his business, but it prevent Arthur from leaving his weapons in his room. He doubted that the little girl would actually do anything, but the safer he was the better.
"Apologies, mister Ashari." Arthur greeted as he opened the door. "Figured I'd get some shut eye before we got close to land."
After a long nap and a short game of cards with his roommates (he lost to the little girl, of all things), and Arthur found himself stepping off of the ship and onto a pier he had crossed the desert to reach not a few weeks prior. He still had plenty good reason to move quickly, but unfortunately Famine was of no help this time. Instead he wound up spending lien, a dwindling resource considering his purchases on Menagerie, to ride a truck into the city. The ride itself wasn't much to write home about, maybe a little bumpy compared to riding Famine, but the late night made crossing the desert rather spooky. The sky was a deep, dark blue, and the only light besides the headlights on the truck came from the shattered moon that still baffled Arthur to this day. Every hill and turn was a surprise, it seemed, and it made him clutch the belt that kept him fastened to the seat.
The other benefit was that they crossed the desert in a single night, as opposed to the eighteen hours it had taken him and Sienna. It also probably helped that the truck itself was not being pursed by the law. By the time they pulled in outside of the city, dawn was only just beginning to peek over the horizon. The guards at the city gate once again gave him an odd look, but Arthur stowed his hat in his satchel and tightened the slings on his weapons. Looking more like an armed traveler than the man that had tweaked the nose of a local crime lord, he made it into Vacuo without much trouble.
Once he was past the western gate, Arthur pulled his scroll once more and tried to call Abigail again. He walked as it rang, trying to get out of the center of the street. A storefront had a wooden bench that looked all too inviting, and Arthur planted himself down before any early morning risers could steal the seat. When he settled his considerable weight down onto the bench, the call finally rang through after three days of missed calls. Abigail's face was dirty and frightened, but she was still alive.
"Arthur? Is that you?" Abby breathed out, and Arthur could see two other shadows behind her. Wherever they were, it was still dark even in the advent of the early morning. There were also two adults with her and not one, since Jack was too small to cast a shadow at his height.
"Finally answered the damn call. Where have you been, girl?" Arthur chastised. "You've had me scared half to death the whole way here." As he finished speaking, the other two people behind Abigail turned to face the scroll as well. One was John Marston, his friend and looking a bit haggard and over his head, per usual. The other...the other was impossible. Arthur's eyes widened and his mouth went dry, and were he standing he would have surely dropped his scroll. Sean McGuire looked back at him on the little display, his left eye replaced by a mechanical prosthetic. The dead man grinned widely at Arthur's disbelief, and that same Irish accent he had long since given up on came over the scroll's speakers.
"There ye are, English! I've been hearing about your tales for days now!" Sean leaned in closer to Abby to get a better look, and to further show off his new feature. "Did you miss me, old timer?" A million things ran through his head, all of them denied by his leaden tongue. He'd seen Sean die, shot through the head in an ambush. Even with the miracle doctors in Remnant, there was no way in hell they could bring back the dead...and yet, there he was.
"How...Sean?! How in the hell are you-" Arthur cut off his own tirade as he looked around, suddenly aware of how much attention he would attract yelling into his scroll at five in the morning. He was still a somewhat wanted man in this town, and getting captured by Winchester's men wouldn't do the Marstons a lick of good. "What the hell happened? I saw you die." Arthur whispered insistently. Sean rolled his eye – the normal one – and tossed his chin towards Abigail.
"We've got bigger problems right now, Arthur. I'll tell you all about it later. For now, see if you can meet us near Shade Academy. Apparently, there are some local boys trying to take you out." Sean knew about the Winchesters? Then again, Arthur had no idea exactly how long the Irishman had been around Vacuo, only that the last time he'd seen him had been ten months ago in Rhodes. If he'd somehow recovered and managed to get to Remnant – and the how on that was also a mystery – then he was more savvy with Huntsmen and Grimm than Arthur was. He had context for how the world worked, and who the major players were.
"Alright. I can meet up with you, try to get our bearings. Got any ideas about a safe place?" Sean looked around again, and Arthur could hear John say something to Jack. Abigail remained silent to let Sean take the lead, and he seemed to consider the city and its various establishments.
"There's a bar over near the academy grounds that is open in the mornings. He usually leaves the door open so everyone that got keelhauled the night before can stumble out. Shoddy types like us will fit right in. But be careful, English! There's a man in town by the name of Marcus Black. He already grabbed John, and we know he's looking for you. He's a right sod, but he's used to hunting down Huntsmen and Huntresses. Avoid the alleys and don't trust the police, except maybe that Redfield fella." Sean handed the scroll back to Abigail. "Look for Tapster's, it should be on your map. We'll be there as soon as we lose this tail." Abigail looked around fearfully, the poor woman, but the same resolve that had gotten them from Blackwater to Vacuo was still evident in her voice.
"We'll get through this, Arthur. Be careful!" With that, she closed her scroll, and Arthur was looking at his home screen. Thunder echoed in his ears as he reeled from the call, still in disbelief of what he had just seen. Not only was Sean McGuire still alive, but he was thriving in Vacuo it seemed. Apart from the mechanical eye and the sober look on his face, Sean looked far better than the last time Arthur had seen him; slumped over the back of Bill's horse with a hole in his head.
"This just keeps getting stranger." Arthur muttered. The sun had already climbed above the horizon while he'd been on his call, and more people were out and about. Given Sean's warning about Marcus Black and Sam Winchester, the morning foot traffic had a far more sinister implication on the outlaw. There were so many possible enemies between himself and Shade Academy, the original location that Summer had recommended for him. Arthur pulled up the map on his scroll, and Shade Academy was proudly displayed on the northern part of the city. It was a large, walled compound if the map was to be trusted, and about twenty blocks away.
That was a lot of road between the gate and salvation. Even when he reached the Academy and Tapster's itself, he'd still need to be vigilant until they were out of Vacuo entirely. Basically, he had to treat the city as if the O'Driscolls were in charge. As few main roads as possible, stay away from popular stores and parks, and do his damnedest to stay unnoticed. No one had noticed him yet, as far as he could tell, and Arthur intended on keeping it that way. With a game plan in mind, Arthur stood from the bench and ducked down a side street. He hugged the wall of the store, keeping a sharp eye out for anyone more suspicious than he was. It was a long way to the Academy, but he'd make it. One street at a time.
Sean had said to avoid the alleys, but Arthur had no choice about traversing them. Anyone out to find him just had to watch the main venues, while the alleys were harder to keep under control without a lot of man power. He was banking on Winchester's men being either lazy or disloyal, with a personal hope for both. On top of that, the usual alley dwellers would hopefully shun any of the bigger fish, choosing to stay out of the underworld politics rather than try to curry favor with one warlord over another.
Arthur clung to the shadows street by street, and the sun had climbed higher into the sky by the time he reached Shade Academy. A massive stone courtyard, circular in shape and over one hundred yards from the nearest building, separated Vacuo's prestigious Huntsman academy from the rest of the city. As such, Arthur stepped out into the desert sun and shielded his eyes, squinting past the intense light as he tried to discern the distant shapes. When his eyes slowly adjusted, he couldn't help but gasp in surprise and wonder at the Huntsman academy.
Firstly, the entire complex was massive. Tall spires climbed into the desert sky, narrow towers but plentiful and capped with open windows. The second thing he noticed was that most of the main buildings were sunk into the ground slightly, with every visible entrance stepping down into the earth. Remnant. Whatever. In New Austin, Arthur had seen a few homes built this way so that they would remain cool during the summer months. The last thing that he recognized was the entire place had been built from stone and marble, likely another concession to combat the intense heat of the desert. There were no obvious ways for people to fight off the chill of a desert night, but the massive academy looked like a sunken city. The stones and arches had been cut with a degree of artistic elegance he had never seen in America. Heavy gray stone had been cut and carved to such specifications that it was difficult to see the individual bricks at first glance. There were five main structures and in total, four of them had domes at the top. The fifth was some kind of arena, and probably where students practiced fighting if Arthur was to judge.
In the courtyard leading up to the academy itself, there was a large statue depicting an epic battle. A Deathstalker, pretty much a giant scorpion Grimm, was beset on all sides by four Hunters working together to bring it down. One woman was stabbing a spear down into it from her place on its back, while another Huntress slashed at its legs on its left. A Huntsman far larger than the two Huntresses grappled with the Deathstalker's massive claws. The fourth and final part of the team stood behind them a few good yards, a rifle in his hands and pointed at the creature. Their clothes were reminiscent of normal Vacuo wear, all robes and light cloth with the exception of a shoulder and chest plate on the large Huntsman. The carving was of the same if not even better quality as the Academy, with the details on monster and its attackers ridiculously well crafted. Arthur stood next to the shooting Huntsman and examined his masked face, and could easily see the vein of exertion at the man's temple as he attempted to make every shot count. It was a very impressive construction, and Arthur was so caught up in appreciating its detail and the struggle of the Huntsman and their prey that he almost missed the small plaque carved into the ground next to the shooter. Arthur maneuvered around the statue of the Huntsman to look down on the plaque. It was done in black and gray unlike the rest of the courtyard, which was done in gray stone and the normal sandstone that the rest of Vacuo used.
"The Darkness cannot be stopped by one Huntsman alone. We must light the night together." Arthur murmured, reading the plaque aloud as he looked back up at the statue with new respect. He'd never really considered the struggle between Huntsmen and the Grimm since arriving in this crazy place. But now, as he stood before one of the most prestigious schools on the planet for Huntsmen and Huntresses, the concept of battling creatures of Darkness for the sake of everyone around them had a bit more weight to it. He'd seen and killed Grimm, sure, but the thought of intentionally seeking the creatures out as a full time job gave Arthur the shivers.
So caught up was he in taking in Shade Academy, he didn't notice someone walking up behind him until a hand landed on his shoulder. Arthur tensed and turned, pulling himself out of the stranger's grasp even as he tore Peacekeeper from its holster. His eyes began to glow yellow as he stepped back, creating distance and trying to draw a bead as quickly as possible-
-only for him to see John standing beside him. Arthur stared at his friend, dumb and surprised, even as John laughed and pointed at his revolver.
"Hey, what gives? I ain't seen ya in months, and the first thing you do is draw down on me?" John crossed his arms in a mocking gesture. "Hell, I thought even the great Arthur Morgan was better than that." Arthur let his pistol drop back into his holster from limp fingers, unable to even offer a sarcastic remark to the scarred man like he always had. It had been months since he had last laid eyes on John, the closest thing in the gang he had to a brother, and Marston had gone missing during some bad times. Hosea and Lenny had been shot, the rest of them stranded on an island, his diagnosis of TB... John had been one more tragedy in a whole series of unfortunate events. To have him back, standing in front of him with a grin on his face, told Arthur that things could have been much worse.
"C'mere, you damn fool!" Arthur wrapped his arms around John and crushed him into a hug, surprising the other outlaw with the action. John struggled to free his arms from between the two of them, but Arthur was so glad to finally have something go right that he didn't let up. To any of the other morning commuters walking through Vacuo, the sight of two cowboys hugging it out in front of Shade Academy must have been quite the sight, but Arthur was too glad to care. He'd gotten his brother back. John, on the other hand, was startled to get such a warm and personal reaction from the man he'd nagged and rivaled since he was a boy.
"Arthur, what the hell?" John asked, embarrassed as he finally won free from the older man's embrace. "This place must have rotted your brains, old timer. You never used to give out hugs." It was mostly a retort to get some distance, but John didn't seem that averse to it. He was glad to see Arthur as well. The older smirked and pulled his hat from his satchel, dusting it off and placing it on his head as he looked around for Tapster's.
"Believe it or not, I'm actually glad to see you for once, wolf bait. It's been..." Arthur sighed heavily as his thoughts went to the past few months. "It's been hell." John snorted at the vague description and brushed off his shoulder, turning toward the far side of the courtyard that was opposite from the direction Arthur had arrived from.
"Things haven't exactly been easy for us, Arthur. You left behind one hell of a mess." John tossed back, and Arthur followed in confusion. Yeah, things with the gang had been souring ever since the robbery in Saint Denis, but Arthur could hardly be faulted for leaving because he suffered from a deadly and contagious disease. John didn't seem too broken up about his departure, but only time would tell. Like Arthur himself, Marston kept his feelings close to his chest.
"I am sorry for all of that, believe me." Arthur shook his head and jogged a bit to catch up with his friend. "If I could have done things differently, I would have. But with that damn TB, I couldn't afford to stick around for long. If Jack really had it too, then that tells me I didn't leave soon enough." John grunted in what Arthur took to be agreement, and soon they were marching across the courtyard shoulder to shoulder. John slowed down to allow it, and together the two walked in companionable silence. As the buildings outside of Shade Academy's exclusive courtyard drew closer, another thought occurred to Arthur.
"Did Sean say how he got here? Unless Summer just goes around kidnapping outlaws and saving them from death, he got here a different way than we did." Summer had also been terrified to allow people to know she was still alive. Dumping a walking mouth like Sean McGuire in the nearest town was a poor way to keep that secret.
"Nah, and he seems real interested in Summer for some reason. I told him a woman saved us from the dust up with the Marshals, but we didn't have time to talk. Apparently, some of Winchester's men still thought that I was you, so they've been following us for a while." Sean was asking about Summer? A little strange, though he could chalk it up to regular ol' curiosity. Still, her plea to remain anonymous made Sean's questions unwelcome, though the Irishman himself couldn't know that.
The storefront of Tapster's looked like any other bar Arthur would get thrown out of, and he could already see the green shotgun coat of a man he thought dead. Sean's back was turned, though he likely knew that they had arrived thanks to Abigail's shining smile. John stepped in and held the door for Arthur, waiting expectantly even as the older outlaw slowed to a halt. Everything was going so well, between Sienna getting the position she had sought and meeting up with the Marstons again, even Sean had been a welcome surprise. But as he stepped into the bar toward the others, Arthur couldn't shake the ominous feeling that something was wrong.
There was something about fame and success that seemed to bring the worst to your door. Or at least, that was the sentiment Sienna had as she clutched her scroll angrily. Beside her, Adam sharpened Wilt in anticipation, bracing the blade across his knee as he stropped with a whetstone. Ghira had not been present when the fateful message had appeared on her scroll. Two simple words, but considering who they had come from, she was lucky it had not been a boastful paragraph to burn her retinas.
Expect us.
"He's never been interested in White Fang politics before." Adam pointed out. Sienna knew he was just trying to make her feel better, a strange but welcome sentiment from the teen. Still, it did not make his statement any less false.
"Only because he held no sway over Ghira. With me at the head of the organization, my dear brother believes himself capable of altering the fate of Faunus everywhere." Sienna's teeth glinted as she snarled, causing Adam to cease his preparation. To call him her brother was a stretch, as he was only an adoptive sibling at best. Still, her lineage was murky and difficult to track down given how soon she had been orphaned. Whereas she had gone to thievery and survival in the cities, her brother had taken to the raiding gangs that roamed Mistral's wilderness. Her strength had come from working together with her Faunus brethren, whereas his had come from brute force. The Outlanders were coming to Menagerie, and she knew there would only be a few days to prepare.
"He'll challenge you for the right to lead? Doesn't he realize that's not how this works?" Adam commented, sheathing his sword in favor of crossing his arms and hearing out her frustrations. It was something the previous Adam would not have done, and she had both Arthur and herself to thank for that. Still, he truly did not know her brother if he was asking such question.
"It has worked for him all of his life. Challenge the leader to become the leader. Since bandits rarely have their Aura activated, it only makes sense that he rose through the ranks quickly." Sienna sneered at her brother's hubris. "His power has always been above those around him, and it has made him an arrogant and prideful man." The last time she had seen him, however, at least a small portion of his boastful claims had been true. Who knew how strong he had become since the last time they had crossed paths? And so soon after she had ascended...
There was a mole in the White Fang. If not one of her brother's Outlanders specifically, then someone who knew her connection and how to contact them. To see her deposed would suit only a few that she could think of at the moment, but there were enough that a culprit did not immediately come to mind. She had time, perhaps, to seek them out before the Outlanders arrived. But the damage was done, no matter what she found.
"Investigate the Lupin brothers and see if they've made any strange calls or contacts." Adam straightened as Sienna gave the order. He was always willing to act and let her do the planning. Despite his snarky remarks, he was one of her more loyal subordinates. "Be discreet in your questioning. If they are not responsible, I do not want our suspicion to drive them into my brother's arms." Adam nodded, already knowing the best person to ask. Many people discounted her due to her age and particular ability, but Amitola saw far more than she would ever let on. Seeing as how she was a friend of Blake's, Adam doubted he would have any trouble asking her to keep an eye out. He kept his source to himself, however, both to keep from distracting Sienna and to wait for success before he revealed his methods.
As Adam left the meeting room, he was passed by Kali of all people. The Belladonnas had graciously allowed Sienna to continue to use their home as her base of operations until a new headquarters could be selected and constructed in Mistral. Sienna had done her best to keep the White Fang operations to a minimum while Ghira had played host, but she still found herself dirtying his foyer and meeting room with her dealings. Not all of the White Fang operatives she employed were courteous enough to clean after themselves, and Kali was burdened with the ensuing cleanup. Sienna did her best to help and minimize any problems, but between informing distant cells of her new position as Supreme Leader and arranging for combat training to suit her new direction for the White Fang, there wasn't much she had the time or energy to do.
"Hello dear! How goes the uprising?" Despite the fact that Kali was obviously joking, Sienna had to look at her for a few moments before she realized that the Belladonna woman had said something to her without any hidden agenda or insult. When she saw that Kali was just being herself, Sienna could only wince and chastise herself. Only days on the calendar as leader, and she was already jumping at shadows. Her brother's message must have upset more than she'd first realized.
"More difficult than I'd first thought." Sienna admitted freely. The tiger Faunus' ears twitched in frustration, and she couldn't help but ask. "If Ghira had half the troubles I've seen these past few days, then I severely underestimated him as leader." Kali laughed lightly at Sienna's admission, though the shake of her head did reassure Sienna a little.
"Oh no. When Ghira first started the White Fang, he had been surrounded by like minded people, seeking a common cause. Now that it has grown and had time to attract all kinds of people, you must contend with those that seek power more than they wish for equality." Kali said it so casually, Sienna almost missed the disdain hidden in her voice. Despite her persona as a caring housewife, Kali had been just as instrumental in fighting for equality as her husband. His large stature and status and the founder of the White Fang often eclipsed the cat Faunus that was quietly gathering up the stray pieces of paper and empty plates from Sienna's rushed lunch earlier. Somehow, Sienna knew that Kali preferred it that way. If everyone underestimated her, she was capable of accomplishing far more before anyone noticed that the meek housewife was far more than just that.
"So you're saying I have it more difficult than he did?" Sienna couldn't stop the disappointed whine from escaping her. Kali snickered at her plight, but thankfully did not take her humor any further. As frayed as Sienna's nerves were from the past few days, she wasn't sure her sense of humor would survive any prodding.
"Not so much more difficult as it is different. Ghira had to build the White Fang up from nothing, whereas you must fight to keep it yours. Obviously you have allies in Ghira and I, but it is difficult to fight off threats when it comes from your own people." Kali accepted the last few plates from Sienna with a gracious nod, and together the two walked out of the board room. Sienna had no more scheduled meetings, and she would be damned if she remained locked up in a meeting room all day.
"Had I realized just how many people Ghira kept in check, I would have prepared better. I thought I had everyone figured out, but it seems I was sorely mistaken." The Lupin brothers, Leonardo Lionheart, and a myriad of other Faunus across the planet lent their support to the White Fang, but that support often came with conditions. As Sienna was fast discovering, those conditions could also change in the event of new leadership.
"Ghira is more than happy to help you manage things for the first few weeks, but you will have to muster up the courage to ask him." Kali rolled her eyes at the thought of her husband. "I'm sure he's trying to teach some mystical lesson in leadership by not helping right away, but you should always know that you have our support, Sienna. If we don't stick together, the White Fang will turn into the menagerie of animals that our opponents accuse us of being." Sienna conceded the point, even though she too looked up at the ceiling in response to Kali's prediction about Ghira. The man did seem to take some strange pleasure in making nearly everything a lesson in leading the White Fang.
"I suppose that is true. I just wanted to take the fight to the SDC and the Winchesters of the world, not get mired down in local politics. At this rate, the White Fang will collapse before we ever get off the ground!" Her hands came up to grasp at her hair, and Kali allowed a small smile as Sienna showed a rare moment of frustration. "Ugh! Of course, right when I need someone trustworthy to watch my back and coordinate with the organization, Arthur goes running across the continent to get into even more trouble!" Sienna griped, though she quickly controlled herself as Kali led the way to the door. Standing just outside were the guards from Kuo Kuana's local security force, and if guards loved to do anything it was gossip. The last thing she needed was word spreading around that she was losing her cool. That would do more damage than even the most savage contender for her throne.
"Rest your head tonight and give it some time to settle. Come morning, I'm sure you will be able to come up with a better solution. Until then, trust in your people to do what they think is right. The White Fang will not burn down around you if you turn away for a moment." Kali chided gently, though she did not miss Sienna's doubtful look. The two women walked down the large staircase that led from the mansion towards Kuo Kuana proper, and when they reached the bottom Kali went no further. Sienna took notice and turned to face the Lady Belladonna, bowing slightly out of respect.
"Thank you for your counsel and company, Kali. I needed to speak to someone that didn't secretly want to usurp me for the next few minutes." Kali winked and waved off her gratitude, smiling easily in a way only she could.
"Oh, nonsense. We're all on the same side, my dear. Just make sure that all the family squabbles don't get you down." They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Sienna finally bid her farewell, and the tiger Faunus was left to stalk her shadowy way home alone. Already, she missed the companionable presence of Arthur by her side, ready to offer a word or bullet toward the nearest problem that cropped up. She knew that the sensation would fade as she grew used to his absence, but having him watch her back over the past two months had left a noticeable hole in her defenses. Sienna tried but failed to keep it from ruining her good mood. And on top of that, I have 'family' to entertain. She groused internally, her ears flattening in anger. When she reached her bungalow, Sienna didn't so much open the door as fling it aside, moving to secure her valuables underneath the floorboards like she had done as a child.
After all, Shao Khan loved to run off with things that weren't his.
Terribly sorry about the delay. A lot of stuff happened. Got Deputy of the Month, so that was fun. I borrowed one of my favorite villains from the Mortal Kombat series because I felt that the canon listing of Sienna's rivals of power came down to Adam, Corsac, Fennec, and Ghira. She needs to have some early successes of her own without Arthur's help, and these victories will pave the way for further development. On Arthur's side of things, Sean's reappearance is a welcome sight, but I'm sure many of you are wondering just how he managed to survive a gunshot wound to the head. All will be revealed, but first we have to handle this little insurrection.