[Anaxagoras]
Tomorrow's the big day.
The one this whole journey has been building up to. Tomorrow, the Beacon exams open to the public, and for a week straight anyone can come along and try their hand at being accepted into the Academy.
Tomorrow will decide the rest of our lives.
Summer and I haven't spoken much about the possibility of failure since the day we shared a bed. We've woken, gone to the outskirts of the city to train ourselves each day since we can't afford those Aura wielder gyms, and gone to sleep after.
Of course, we've still had those small moments of conversation and laughter together between that, the ones that make me feel that childish warmth in my chest and a flush in my cheeks... but it seems like she and I have both become quite aware that now is the time to focus on our work instead.
At this point, life has become a routine of practice, preparation, and trepidation.
I'm not often a nervous man, I've faced down worse things than a bloody examination, but I still can't stop myself from feeling that small ounce of hesitation in myself as the promised day slowly arrives.
Such is the problem with things like this. They build it up so, so much, make it seem as though this examination will be the end of the world, and it turns out to be a pisstake. At least, that's how I always remember it.
I'd wager the schooling I remember from my past life is much, much different than what Beacon has to offer, though. Most classes didn't involve guns, explosives, and man-eating beasts on the syllabus' I remember.
As if a grueling practical exam wasn't already troublesome enough to deal with though, I've heard there might just be a theoretical portion to it as well.
...I don't know why I'm saying that as though it would be a problem for me.
I happen to have the unique benefit of being quite the scholarly man (with bullshit Eye powers) and brimming with integrity (I will absolutely cheat if need be) so I'll be fine.
For now, that's all irrelevant. Not to say it's not important or worth thinking about, more so just that Summer and I have decided to do some last minute adjustments before the promised day arrives.
And so, here we are, on the streets of Vale at late night hours because neither of us had any idea where the nearest blacksmith was.
All Summer wanted was nothing more than some routine maintenance for the Sundered Rose before the exam, but it wound up taking most of the day and an incredibly long journey through Vale to find the place, let alone get started on the work for it.
At the very least, I now know slightly more on the matter of weapon maintenance, and Dust infusion with regards to ammunition. I still have almost no clue just what the stuff is, but I know how to apply it.
...Slightly.
I should really use the Eye on a Dust crystal soon and try to see what secrets it holds.
I'd like to try and implement it into the Scholar's Folly somehow, have elemental rounds for it on top of the already absurdly powerful Tetrad Wisdom bullets, but integration may prove difficult given the rounds are formed of my Aura.
I'd rather not let explosive components be near my Soul if I have the choice- at least, not while Summer is watching. Something tells me she wouldn't be alright with such experimentation being conducted.
Anyways, it's dark out now as we walk back to the hotel after our business with the blacksmith, late enough that any smart person would have long since tucked in when they have an incredibly important event tomorrow.
The only people passing by at this time of night would probably be the dregs of society, and those silly enough to approach them.
...and, of course, the two of us as well.
"Munitions... check. Dust, check. Rations, check. Anything else we need, Patchy?" Summer asks from my side, humming to herself as we walk and trudging along with several bags attached to her arms.
In those bags is what she bought with the last of our Lien. Her supplies. It's all gone now, in a flash, being carried in her arms like a sack of potatoes.
As of now, we're officially broke, in every sense of the word. Once again, I find myself realising just how difficult things could be for us if this Beacon business doesn't work out.
"Nothing else that I can think of, no. Depending on how intense the examination is, we could very well have severely overestimated just what we'll need, too."
Summer scoffs, easily waving a hand in dismissal of my words, as if she isn't carrying several tens of kilos of supplies. God, Aura is such a cheat code.
"I'd rather be over-prepared than not prepared enough, Patchy." She says, turning to me with a small smile on her lips.
"After all, Master said that back when King Oswald was the Headmaster, the entrance exam was a week long survivalist expedition into the Emerald Forest, and that her team didn't leave until the week after! She said you were constantly watched over, but that you needed to be self sufficient to pass."
Once again, I can't help but notice how bright her eyes are when she talks about Lady Maria, or how deep the silver hue in them seems to be.
"Ah, wonderful. Half a month spent sleeping in the wilderness might just have come in quite handy for us, then. Just us, the forest, the Grimm, and terrible food. Business as usual, hm?" I say, folding my empty arms.
Yes, my arms are empty, and hers are full. I've offered to help carry the load several times over, but she just won't let me. Says that it's her responsibility as the stronger one between us.
Chivalry is truly dead, I think to myself, as Summer giggles at my sarcastic remarks.
"You should be more grateful to me, Patchy. I've basically prepared you for the Beacon exam singlehandedly." She says, far more smug than she has any right to be.
"...ah, yes. Genius, truly. Because the exam most definitely hasn't changed at all in the quarter-century since Lady Maria attended. What a wise comment from you, Summer. Your wisdom and intelligence are utterly unmatched in the world of Remnant."
She grumbles something under her breath upon hearing that, something that I can't quite make out but am certain is to the tune of 'smug jackass'. All I can do is just laugh at the scoff she makes, folding my arms and glancing at the street ahead of us.
Vale's different at nighttime. At least, the commercial district is. It almost seems silent, like everyone's got some sort of curfew, the world lit up by nothing but streetlights and storefronts.
Along with, of course, the shattered moon.
It's strange, actually. I've never once sat and thought about what having the moon be so broken could mean for Remnant. I can't help but wonder just how it happened as well. It's supposedly been like this for thousands of years according to history books, yet nobody knows why.
"Hello? Hello!? Something on your mind, Anaxa? You've been watching the sky for the last few minutes. Did you even hear any of what I said?" Summer cuts in, waving a hand in front of my face to get my attention.
"Nope, not a single word. Sorry, Little Light, I was stargazing." I say shamelessly, brushing aside her hand and tapping my finger rhythmically against my bicep now.
It's a cold night in Spring. Thankfully, Aura is quite useful against the weather.
Summer hums in response, looking both aggrieved and intrigued by my words. Her head tilts, eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Stargazing? You never struck me as the 'natural beauty' type of guy, Patchy."
I can't help but laugh at that, rolling my eye.
"I don't need to be a hipster to appreciate a good view, Summer. Besides, I quite like looking at the stars. I'd spend a few minutes every night staring up at the sky while we made our way to Kuchinashi."
Summer stays quiet now, watching my from the corner of her eye as I speak.
"It's... humbling. Maybe that's the wrong word for it, I don't know. I just like to look out and see every tiny, almost invisible dot and think about what could be happening all that way away. After all, if all of our troubles, our woes, and our achievements are just one tiny speck of light in the night sky, then what else could be out there?"
Summer hums, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. I'm not sure why.
"...I guess it is interesting to think about. What else could be out there? Do they have Grimm, like us? Do they have Faunus, Dust, a CCT? Maybe they're not even human to begin with! Like in Conflict of the Planets!"
...conflict of the what? That- no, that must just be some shitty movie she's seen the poster for as we've gone through Vale.
With a small huff of amusement, I drag her hood further down on her head, blinding her for a moment and ruining her hair.
"I was trying to be introspective, Summer. You're supposed to think I'm some deep philosopher and blow smoke up my ass, not talk about terrible movies." I say, snorting at the betrayal in her eyes as she turns to me and sticks out her tongue.
"Psh! As if! The only thing smart about you is your outfit. I mean, seriously, what the hell is up with it? Any time it gets scratched, or torn, it just goes back to being good as new when the morning comes."
...shit.
"Ah, so you've noticed, have you?" I say, laughing as I speak and trying to disguise the nervousness, biding for a few extra seconds to come up with an excuse.
"Truth be told, I've no idea myself. I've been wearing this since I woke up without my memories in Mistral. I think it's a form of dust-infused clothing, which... does make me wonder how wealthy my past self was."
Summer's snickering falls short. She looks at me now, seeming almost sympathetic.
"Yeesh. Could you imagine? What if you're the son of some big-wig, multimillionaire up in Mistral, and you've just lost out on that life entirely? That must suck."
Again, I find myself snorting at her words, an incredibly undignified sound that I don't even bother trying to mask.
"I highly doubt that's the case. I'm not that lucky- or, I suppose in this case it would be unlucky. Chances are I just had a penchant for the finer things before losing my memory. I'll admit though, it is... strange to think about who I might have been before it happened."
I'm lying through my teeth, obviously. There is no 'before it happened', not unless this body already existed beforehand and I was just inserted into it. There's just me, and the man I am now. Of course, I can't say that.
"Well, for what it's worth, Patchy... I like you better this way." Summer says, bashfully.
I turn to her, brows furrowed.
"...you didn't know me beforehand. You can't say you liked me better when there's no metric to compare me against, Summer."
She sputters instantly, hand coming up to smack at my arm playfully as she scowls.
"That's- I was trying to be nice, jackass! Just take the damn compliment and stop trying to embarass me, already! Sundered Rose is sharper than ever, you don't wanna test me!"
I take the threat in stride, laughing away her terrifying promise and only making the flush in her cheeks worsen as pass by alleyway after alleyway on the empty street.
"Oh, I think I'll be more than happy to test you if it means you'll keep reacting like this. For a terrifyingly strong Huntress in training, you have the worst habit of being incredibly fun to tease. Might want to work on that."
She pouts in response.
"This is what I get for trying to be nice to you. Should've just made fun of you instead- actually, I will. You have sweaty hands! It's gross, and you should feel gross!" She then says, sticking out her tongue again and looking far too pleased with herself.
"...I was expecting something far more damaging, Little Light. That's about as soft as you can get with an insult."
She sputters again in indignation, turning her head away from me to hide her growing embarassment, her mind burning to think of an actual insult.
"W-well, you... your eyepatch sucks!"
...oh. Well, damn. I underestimated you, Summer. I didn't realise we were going for cheap shots.
"Oh yeah? My eyepatch sucks, huh? My beautiful, stylish, luxurious eyepatch? Fine. Guess what, Summer? Your cloak sucks."
She gasps in faux-offense, placing a hand to her chest as she looks at me with such a convincing expression of betrayal that I almost forget this is an elaborate joke between us right now, nothing but banter.
"I'll have you know that my cloak is the fluffiest, most stylish, cloak-iest, coolest thing that you have ever seen in your life-"
A presence, hiding in the alleyway.
My Eye burns instantly, rhythmic clicks and scratches drowned out by the sound of my rifle cocking as I lift an arm across Summer's shoulder to pull her behind me.
She blinks in surprise, turning to look at the darkened shadows of the alleyway now in front of us and unfolding the Sundered Rose to let it hang at her side, dropping the bags she'd been carrying.
For several seconds, nothing moves. The air turns silent. Summer's breathing stills...
...but it's no use hiding from me. I've already seen you lurking in the shadows, 'Feldgrau'.
"Well, well. You've got quite the keen senses, young man."
He walks forward slowly from the corner of the alleyway, clapping even slower at my observational skills as his form is revealed second by agonising second. Summer's breath hitches the moment she sees him.
Wearing the same dusty old coat as he'd donned the day we met, and with that same demented grin on his lips, he places a hand on his hip and smirks at us. On each of his wrists is a dual-bladed vambrace, twin barrels peeking out from atop each one.
Seems like he's not here for a friendly chat.
To make things that much worse, flicking in the air behind him, twice as long as his arm, is a scorpion tail that I'm almost certain is venomous, too.
Tyrian 'Feldgrau' Callows
The Buthidae Butcher
Level: 71
...This man is dangerous.
He has a title, as well. Just like Summer. Not only is he incredibly dangerous, but there's something special about him too, something I can't quite decipher.
Looks like I was right to say Feldgrau was an alias. Of course it was. This man, this thing, is someone we've gotten quite unlucky to run into... After all, it's not everyday you meet the boogeyman himself mere weeks into arriving in a new city.
Especially not when said boogeyman is a notorious serial killer, one that people have been trying to identify for months straight.
Psychotic. Mentally unstable. Addicted to violence. Weak armour on tail. Butcher.
"How did you see me, hm? I'm almost certain I was well hidden." Tyrian says, almost conversationally, though his eyes tell an entirely different story.
There's a giddiness in his gaze. Eagerness, even. He's been looking forward to this meeting.
"It's like you said, I've got quite the keen senses-" I start, cutting my words off halfway by firing a bullet at his chest.
He reacts in the blink of an eye, deflecting the round off his vambraces with pitiful ease and glancing at me condescendingly, brushing away imaginary dirt on his person
Summer tenses beside me, torn between disapproval at me shooting him so suddenly, and the instinctual fear that comes with the realisation that he's an Aura wielder.
"A cheap shot? How droll... here I was, thinking you could offer me some entertainment, but it seems I was wrong. You two might not be worth the trouble."
My fingers tighten over the handle for the Scholar's Folly.
"Had to take my chances where I can get them. Gotta get a good gauge on how rough this is going to be." I say, jaw tensing and eyes narrowing.
Tyrian looks at us, almost disappointed at what he sees now, before his gaze fixates on Summer as she moves to stand beside me.
"What do you want? Are you here to hurt us?" She asks, her voice unwavering.
Tyrian just stares at her for several long seconds. He blinks in astonishment at her naivety, before bursting out into delighted laughter, bouncing between each foot and clapping his hands together.
"Hurt- hurt you!? Oh, my dear... I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to kill you. To make sure those wide, bright eyes of yours don't last to see another sunrise. Surely you realise that by now, don't you?" Tyrian asks, grinding out each word through grinning lips.
Summer tenses again. She looks almost pained now with every word he says, the grimace on her face only worsening as he continues to speak.
"Snuffing out the light in your eyes, disposing of such hopeful young heroes as yourselves is... so uniquely delightful to me. I hope you understand that this is nothing personal, Summer. You just should've been watching where you were going."
...No more games, Anaxa. Take notes.
He's a generic psychopath. In every sense of the word. Mentally unwell, crazed, enjoys his murders. He's clearly capable if he's gone this long without being caught, too.
Not only that, but he takes pleasure in snuffing out 'youthful heroes'. He's targeting young adults, the type that can barely fight back, but always try their best. Seems like he enjoys watching the hope fade away.
No wonder he's come to the heart of Vale despite all the 'heat' this time of year would bring. He just can't help himself. He loves his mania too much to deny this opportunity, so many potential targets for him.
...he came for us. There's no chance this is a coincidence. He's been waiting for this.
Aura disruption. Venomous secretion. Relies on tail in combat.
"Watch the tail, Summer. His Semblance disrupts Aura flow, one bad nick could leave you on death's door. It's poisonous, but incredibly vulnerable without Aura."
Tyrian blinks in shock again at my words, before bursting out into even louder peals of laughter as he looks between the barrel of my rifle, my companion, and my eye.
"You- oh, I take it back! You're something special after all. You can see my gift. You can see me. The blind are truly leading the blind. That eyepatch of yours must he hiding something very unique... and oh! That look in your eye... I know it all too well."
His grin widens. His hands clench into fists, the barrels on his vambraces extending.
"You want to kill me. No, not even that... you plan to- You've done it before. Ohohoho! It seems I underestimated you, young man!"
Summer glances at me with something akin to disappointment for being so quick to consider murdering this man, shaking her head and focusing her gaze back on Tyrian.
I make no efforts to deny the claim, loading a new Exile's Fallacy into my rifle.
"It's us, or you... and something tells me you won't just walk away, even if we ask nicely."
His eyes flash purple again. He stares at us, his focus rapturous now, having barely blinked at all since this encounter began.
"Clever boy. You'd be right to think that. I have no intentions of leaving before the hunt can truly begin." He grinds out, his voice all but delirious with glee and excitement.
Then, silence.
For several long seconds, we remain in a standoff, unblinking, as the cold wind blows around us. Tyrian's eyes go up and down our forms, appraising us, before the psychopath hums and tilts his head.
"I think I'm going to enjoy this more than any other hunt I've been on before." He says, before vanishing in the blink of an eye and-
CLANG!
The blades of his vambraces draw sparks as they grind down against the Sundered Rose, Summer's face now set in a firm frown as she holds the man back.
Given the trajectory he was on, I don't doubt that he was aiming to gut me. Seems like he recognises that I'm the weaker combatant.
Not that I'm going to let that stop me, my feet slamming against the ground and launching me towards Tyrian, my weapon poised to slam down against his skull.
Summer follows up after me, vanishing into nothing with her Semblance and reappearing right behind the grinning madman, her words echoing in the empty street as her axe bears down on him.
"This'll be the last 'hunt' you ever go on, you sicko! I'm not going to let you hurt us, or anyone else- not if I have a say in it!"
Tyrian laughs, his smile becoming one of pure ecstasy as he moves with terrifying agility, tilting his body enough to block Summer's axe with his tail and lock my rifle in place between his vambraces, braced to spin his body and throw my rifle away.
I take a shot at his head with the opportunity given to me by his locked blades before he can try, a Tetrad Wisdom round burning through the tiny distance between us and ready to decimate his Aura- only for Tyrian to catch the bullet between his teeth before it can ricochet, spitting it out with ease.
"Oh, you'll have to try harder than that!" He cries out, giddy, as his knee crashes into my chest and tail wraps around Summer's leg before she can lift her axe again, throwing her out of the alley and onto the street alongside me.
He then leans down, licking his lips as I haul myself to standing position, before blurring towards me again with frightening speed- my rifle only barely raised in time to block his blades, my shin smashing into his own when he tries to catch me off guard with a kick.
Before he can try to follow up again, Summer appears in front of me and slams the pommel of her axe into his chin, giving me ample purchase to fire a round into his chest as he flips away- a small fracturing effect, like cracked glass, appearing where the bullet landed against his Aura.
...Ah. So that's what an Artificial Weakness looks like. Summer's not reacted to it yet, so it seems like I'm the only one that can see it for now, probably need to Level Up before my companions can use it to- irrelevant.
Focus, Anaxa.
I lift myself to stand on both feet as Tyrian cracks his neck, Summer standing in front of me with her axe held low and a small plea to the madman on her lips.
"You can still stand down and turn yourself-"
I scoff at her words as I match the madman's gesture, jaw tensing and neck cracking as our eyes meet from across the street.
"Don't bother, Summer. He's here to kill us for his own pleasure. There's no 'appealing to goodwill' for him, there's not even anything human in there. You'd just be talking to a brick wall."
Tyrian grins in approval at that, nodding his head slowly and tossing away his duster.
"That's right, Summer. You're only making this even better for me the more you plead and beg for your life."
...one hell of a sick bastard, this man is. The worst kind of degenerate scum.
I don't think anyone will judge me if I slot one between his eyes. At least, I hope that Summer won't. 'Rather one good man live, than two bad ones survive', as she herself said when talking about Gepetto.
I'm not gonna die here. Neither is she. Not like this, that's for sure. I don't care what it takes. I'm not gonna let this sick fuck turn us into an art piece for his own amusement.
Loading a new Exile's Fallacy into my rifle, I don't hesitate to take a step forward and lift my weapon high, Eye burning brightly as I watch his every move.
"If you want to hunt us like animals... then you'll have to work for it, Tyrian."
If the psychopath himself is unsettled by the fact that I know his name in any way, then he makes no sign of showing it.
Instead, he just laughs once again, a hacking, delirious guffaw as he dashes forward, and the battle reignites in earnest.
------------------------------------
[Qrow Branwen]
I'll admit, I was wrong.
Maybe Raven isn't an annoying bitch. Maybe she has some taste after all.
At the very least, I'm certainly starting to get behind her way of thinking. This plan, stupid as it is when you think about it for longer than ten seconds, is... incredibly fun, and incredibly relieving to boot.
This is just about the closest thing to stress relief either of us have had since... she died all those months ago, and given that this place is filled with sub-par criminals at best, well... I have no intentions of holding back.
Like she said, it's not like they can call the Huntsmen on us after this.
They'd sooner tuck tail and flee the damn Kingdom than ever admit that a feared organisation like the Spiders got their asses kicked by a pair of angsty young adults, ones with anger issues out the ass and more trauma to them than a fuckin' Hospital ward.
The nightclub itself is tacky. That's just about the best way I can describe it. Tacky, and filled with a lot of those same degenerates we were hoping to see.
It's almost beautiful how dreadful this club is, full of seedy characters, cheap drinks, and even cheaper music. Not even a good looking gal for as far as the eyes can see.
The place is covered in purples, greens, and thick Spider insignias as far as the eye can see, with just about everyone here having the same tattoo on their person. Like I said, tacky design. Not the nicest.
The people, on the other hand?
Oh, well, the company is simply to die for.
My knuckles burn with satisfaction as I slam my fist into the jaw of another generic henchman, his body clattering to the floor in a heap, with Raven herself chipping in by crashing her knee into his chest as he drops.
The man is out cold in the blink of an eye, no Aura to protect himself with. Even without our own Aura active, Rae and I are a damn formidable foe.
For once, I'm almost glad for all of Dad's training, because it's made this a hell of a lot easier for us.
Especially the 'taking a punch' part of it.
SMASH!
The world blurs, my body reeling in shock and falling to one knee as a chair is shattered over my head- not quite a punch, but not the worst thing I've ever felt, either.
Before the bastard can try again, or think I'm gonna let that slide, I lift myself back on both feet and tackle the man down, straddling his chest before he can push back against me and using the broken leg of that same chair to beat him into unconsciousness.
Again, and again, and again, I strike his head with force enough to make skin split and flesh bruise, until finally he goes limp beneath me.
Just in time, Raven's armoured shin crashes into someone's side and sends them to the ground in front of me, barely lifting themselves on shakey arms before she slams her foot down on their head.
Heaving each breath, with a small trail of blood running down my temple, I look up at her, expecting to see some wear and tear of her own.
...Nope. She looks... utterly untouched.
"You- you realise you're supposed to get hit for this little plan of yours to work, right? Or was this just an excuse to watch me get my ass kicked?" I say, slowly lifting myself up to one knee, then to both legs, tossing aside the bloodied chair leg as I stand.
"A bit of column A. A bit of column B. As long as one of us is roughed up, then the plan should work just fine. I'll tell them you put yourself at risk for me. That should make the Headmaster even more accepting." She says, glancing at the unconscious bodies laid out on the floor around us before speaking to me again.
"I forgot just how fun it was to watch you be beaten down like this, Birdbrain. We should do this more often. Watching you be hit with that chair was uniquely cathartic for me." She notes, smirking at me...
...before turning on the spot and SMASHING her fist into a poor woman's nose as they try to attack her from behind with a shattered bottle.
The lady's nose all but shatters instantly, blood spitting out as she falls to the pulsating, glowing dance floor with soft thud, hopefully unconscious. Never liked seeing a lady get hurt very much.
"Anyone else wanna take a shot at me!?" Raven then calls out, her voice barely audible over the thunderous music, her smile wider than I've seen it in weeks.
"You're having way too much fun with this." I mutter, watching with a small bit of pride in my chest as the gathered criminals seem to back away ever so slightly, with those in their booths all looking away from us.
Raven laughs, cracking her knuckles.
"And you're not having enough fun, Birdbrain. This is the most enjoyable thing we've done in years. You should-"
...Something feels off.
Even with the pounding music and the strobing lights, something about this just doesn't feel right to me- and it's not just the fact that my Semblance has been really passive all of a sudden-
Oh! And what do you know, I'm proven correct the very next second after having that thought when I notice one of the booth-sitters across the warehouse reaching for something beneath their table.
...wait a minute, that's a gun. Oh, that's actually quite a lot of guns.
Holy shit, of course it's a gun, we're picking a fight with the Mistralian mob right now, the same mob that won't hesitate to kill us and- HOW THE HELL DID I LET MYSELF BE TALKED INTO THIS!?
"Raven- guns, Aura!" I shout out, the words all but drowned out by a hail of gunshots that ring out immediately after, several bullets bouncing against my Aura as I throw myself behind the bar to take cover, grabbing the bartender and pulling him down with me.
Raven follows shortly after, ducking behind the bar and scowling as the gunshots continue on for several long seconds, the world all but drowned out save for the thick, overwhelming salvo of bullets sent at us.
Wood splinters and splits, glasses shatter, liquid spills onto us and still the hellfire continues for almost an entire minute, until all that can be heard is the clicking of several triggers on empty magazines.
Raven looks like shit. She looks like there's nothing but murder on her mind now, to the point that I have to pointedly glance at her and raise a finger in warning so she doesn't start stabbing these people.
Just when I start to think that the noise-based warfare has come to an end, I hear the sound of another salvo of magazines being loaded into every Spider's weapon. It's enough to make my jaw tense and fists clench beneath the bar.
Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, someone steps forward through the crowd of gunmen and stops the second barrage of bullets before it can even start up again.
Someone with heavy boots, and an even heavier build. Someone who, as I peek over the bar, looks even more murderous than even Raven does right now.
Must be the owner of this fine establishment.
"Listen up! You have one chance to lift your hands, stand up, and surrender. If you do, I'll kill you quickly. If you don't, I'll do it slowly... to make it easy, I'll count down from ten."
Raven and I barely need a few seconds to make up our minds. We stand before the man even reaches seven, our hands raised and Aura's still up in case they try any funny business like gunning us down.
The manager blinks at us, no doubt realising that he's been getting his panties in a twist over a pair of... are we Hunters in training? I guess we are, technically.
"Who the fuck are you?" He asks, his voice harsh and gravelly as his eyes flicker between us skeptically.
"Rip van Winkle." I say, obviously not giving the guy my real name because that would be utterly stupid.
The manager snorts.
"Cute. Little brat thinks he's funny... don't you worry. I'll be putting you to sleep soon enough. It'll last a whole lot longer than just twenty years, though."
Raven, still just a few inches away from drawing Omen and gutting everyone in the building, doesn't pay him any attention though. Instead, she grabs the closest drink, the closest glass, fills up a shot for herself, and slams it down without hesitation.
...and then, with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, she signs our death warrant.
"Raven Branwen."
The manager stills for a moment.
His eyes then widen, a snarl on his lips. I'm sure he both knows, and despises, that dear old Dad has far more control over Mistral than these morons ever will... and now he wants to do something about it. Now he can.
God fucking dammit, Raven.
"Branwen, huh? Well then... looks like this just got a lot more personal. Non-lethal, gentlemen. We need these ones alive."
All I can do is groan and shake my head, throwing myself over the bar just as Raven does, and immediately getting back to bloodying my fists and breaking jaws to the tune of the music blaring in the background.
Nothing in the world like Valean hospitality.