"She isn't here?"
Best Junior could do was nod along.
"We can try again another time."
"Why?"
"Hmm?"
"She's never late, and she never cancels either." Velvet leaned back, arms crossed and sporting a cross expression to pair with it. "Or has she finally reached the point where she's lightened up?"
"I wish that were the case." But that would be going a step too far. "It's not just you being out of the loop. Everything remained mostly the same since the start of the betting game."
"So what you're saying is: this is a first for you too."
"Begrudgingly."
"Yeah..." Velvet sat up, turning her eyes up to him. "Have you been in contact with her recently?"
"Hometown's usually the one overseeing the betting pools." That, at the very least, never changed. "She received my message last night, but word back is a solid 'no.'"
He could tell just by the look of her that Velvet knew the situation was more than a little off. Not that dropping from a game or meeting was anything strange; all were within their rights to skip a gathering or two, which often meant being unable to cast more bets at worst. Lil'Miss had always attended most in person, with a scant few exceptions being back when his father and her got into a bit of a scuffle before Junior himself took over, and the other being the year she lost her little boy.
Who's unwilling murderer sat perplexed and suspicious right across from him.
Junior held no qualms with Velvet personally. He'd heard the story from multiple sources, and he'd seen how the kill changed the once brazen assassin. No joy was begot from executing a little kid, and even now, Junior could spot a mix of frustration begin to grow. But multiple stories made the rounds, half speculation and half partial observation. Only two people knew the truth of what happened during one of the worst Vytal Festivals he'd ever seen, and neither itched to talk.
"Why is she being such a hard-ass now?"
Lil'Miss blamed everything on her hired gun, and said shooter blamed the woman who demanded such a risky and personal kill. Could it be that Lil'Miss had somehow found out that he'd become involved with Velvet? Did she learn he'd invited her to their meetings? He had a mind to tell her himself, but if the information somehow got leaked beforehand...
Junior shook his head briefly.
That didn't make any sense; it was impossible. Nobody could predict he'd personally invite the estranged daughter of Vacuo's Desert Diva. Everyone knew Beacon's seniors liked to drop by the club from time to time, and Velvet - thanks to her team - had become quite the weekend regular.
"She's been stiff since her boy passed." Velvet froze up, but Junior kept on going. "Colder, but pulling in any nutcase she comes across. I'd call it charity, but she says even a weaker force can be strengthened by numbers."
"I won't apologise to her."
"I never asked you to."
"You brought it up."
"To put into perspective how little you know." Her glare narrowed, but he just as easily doused the fire in her eyes. "And to add weight to the statement that this behavior is highly unusual for her."
Velvet pursed her lips, and her tensed brow began to spread.
"You think something's happening with her? Out of sight, I mean."
"I can guarantee it." A one word reply: that solitary 'no.' When Lil'Miss canceled anything, she did it with respect and style. Some of that pizazz had been lost over the years, but her respectful demeanor stood strong. Without her professionalism intact, he couldn't honestly accept her decision as genuine.
Velvet straightened her posture.
"You have something in mind, don't you."
"I'm thinking of paying her a visit."
"With or without help?"
"I'll probably take the twins; they'll want to check on their mother." Granted, they'd do so for opposite reasons.
"Is that all?"
"I'm open for offers."
"I'll go with you."
"Are you sure?"
"Trying to talk me out of it already?"
"No. I'm just worried."
"You, worried about me?" Velvet scoffed, and in that instance he spotted flashes of a younger carefree girl. "Since when did you start caring about anyone other than your crew?"
"Since I started reaching out."
While he couldn't place total trust in everyone he met, these past few years had opened him up. He'd not say it to anyone, but Junior had a sneaking suspicion the kids had begun to rub off on him. The twins began involving themselves more in civilian affairs ever since the boys showed up, and those lads had left even himself at a loss. Jay managed to amp up his suspicions, whereas Josh had the odd habit of melting the worries away.
Add on top of that another spot of time travel, and it was a wonder he'd not gone a little loopy himself.
Velvet stared at him for a solid minute, and then, at the corner of her lips, the faintest of grins passed by in a flash.
"I've missed a lot, haven't I?"
"You're better off for it."
Velvet had friends now; real friends who weren't there by force or for money. Nothing in the underworld called out for her, and he'd recommend she stay away if he could. Sadly, he had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn't. If not for her mother, then for her own peace of mind.
Chaos tends to rise up from the earth below your feet if the ground isn't stable, and those sinkholes could very easily swallow up any home no matter how solid.
.
.
"How are you holding up?"
"Hmm?"
Garanite knew someone might eventually question his presence beside the centerpiece work of art, however of all the people to open up, he hadn't expected Yang Xiao Long to stroll over with concerns regarding him.
"You've been staring at it for a little over ten minutes." Taking place beside him, she rested a hand on her hip, slanted on one leg casually. She cast a look over the piece, head tilted as if spying for anything of particular note. "I get it's a cool statue, but I'm pretty sure you can name the individual cracks at this point."
"You've got a lot of faith in my memory if you think ten minutes is all I need to uncover every fault."
He didn't look, but a part of him felt as though she'd scoff right about now.
"I don't. Thing is, I've been watching you for ten minutes. You've clearly been here for longer than that, I'm sure."
Garanite exhaled warmly.
"Guilty as charged. I must seem strange to be so fixated on one piece of art."
"Not really."
"Oh?" His neck jerked, attention tossed wholly onto her, and he caught the precise moment her eyes glazed over.
"A lot of people like to find meaning in things, right? Art is in the eye of the beholder - or so my teammate would sometimes say whenever we argue over if something's boring or not."
"It is. Art, despite how mundane aspects of it may seem, facilitates expressions unique to an individual's personality. Some might call it the nature of all sentient beings, but that aspect of us which derives meaning from nowhere is a trait best expressed and traded through choice."
He couldn't stop a playful smile from taking up residence on his face when she tossed a brow up at him, and he turned to look upon the statue once more.
"Take for instance these two right here. From the onset, one might say they are a testament to humanity's perseverance over the grimm: our ability to overcome their might and defeat them."
"Yeah..." Yang chuckled, a mischievous grin overtaking her as she tauntingly thumbed towards the work. "Kinda got that from the power pose."
"Indeed. It is a marvelous and steadfast display of victory. And yet, despite this, their faces are so... somber." Certainly not the mask of one reveling in their victory, and a quick glance confirmed that Yang had picked up on that, dropping her cocky grin. "It's almost as though they've lost their bravado. The battle wore them out, and rather than celebrating their success, they seem tired. The grimm are, as we know, a never ending threat. No matter how many are slain, more will replace them."
"Huh... Way to sour the mood." Despite saying this, interest pulled up her brow; both arms hung loose at her sides, relaxed, but not lazy. "But even after pointing that out, you don't seem upset."
"I'm not." He crossed his arms and admired the work one final time. "For as endless as the war may be, the pair - though tired - continue to bear their spirits. To take up a position so bold when nearly all the energy has evaporated from their bodies shows that, no matter how dire or hopeless victory may seem in the long run, that they still value the possibility of attaining it. Even under eternal siege, they are willing to keep fighting, because they believe in the chance that, one day, they might succeed."
Half a minute of silence gathered between them, until Yang gently guided it away.
"You know, when I opted to see how you were doing, I didn't expect to get an art lecture."
"I wouldn't call this a lecture by any means; merely interpretation. But perhaps I am looking too deeply into it. For all we know, their expressions may have been chosen to fit the sculptor's tastes, rather than hold some deeper meaning."
"Aren't artists, like, super crazy into jamming details in everything they make?"
A little snort tumbled through his nose; he couldn't hold it in.
"Many are, yes. But consider this: whenever you act, be it through battle or casual meandering, do you consider how every motion affects the perceptions of those around you?"
"Not sure that applies here." Yang nudged him with her elbow, grin broad and followed up with a wink. "I'm not an artist."
"Oh? You're not, you say?"
"Nope." Lifting her arms up, she quickly rested them behind her head. "I'm not all into painting and music. I like listening to songs and looking at awesome art, but I'm not really all that good at making any of it."
"Maybe not, but you are rather skilled in fighting; I've seen videos, both official and not, which paint for me a completely different picture."
"Meh. That's just fighting."
"Fighting is an art. A martial art, if you will."
The urge to groan clashed with her half chuckle, creating this choked expression and wheeze that Garanite welcomed. Beacon was filled with so many aspiring hunters, hunters who would no doubt cross the worst this world has to offer. But rather than mull over eventual challenges, he took solace in the sight of a carefree collective.
"A-asshole!"
Her shoves, free of malice and about as hard as a feathery pillow, did little to phase him. For someone so serious and outspoken in the moment, downright filled with an underlying fury, Yang could be surprisingly gentle.
"Oh and, before I forget. Call me Quartz."
"Am I going to get another pun if I don't?" Her giggles subsided, leaving behind relaxed joints and worn out lungs which softened her voice.
"I'll spare you the first few times. It's merely a safety precaution for my stay here in Beacon."
"You know... I've been meaning to ask about that too, and to update you on our end."
"Then let us trade stories over a comfortable stroll."
He couldn't tell her everything surely, but Yang Xiao Long had proven herself - to him - as someone trustworthy. A bit rash of a judgement in some eyes for certain, but her actions had far outweighed a good many of his doubts, and she seemed like a good girl.
"Wait, you're not coming on to me, are you?"
With a good sense of humor too.
"Apologies, but you're a good too many years behind to fit my standards."
Author's note
…
A bit of a calm one and some setup for next time.
On the bright side, Yang seems to be doing okay, and it looks like Gar- Quartz is settling into Beacon for now. In the meantime, Velvet and Junior are suspicious of Lil'Miss, and who knows what's going on with her.
Until next time.