Chapter Text
28 DAYS AND SIX HOURS BEFORE THE FALL OF BEACON.
~~~
Change is inevitable— Fighting it is like wrestling with a riptide. But while most succumb to its waters, there are a few stubborn things that snapback to who or what they were, with a force so determined, even change is caught unaware. It's hard to record such happenings however, for to do so you must see, and to see you must live, and the wonderful things that are capable of standing their ground within the current shall remain steadfast for much much longer than life does. The idea of time as we, and only we, know it, shall pitter out before any of these things change their minds about what they are.
The tips of Atlas’s mountains will be covered with ice, and the liquid just beneath will run with a torrent of Grimm so concentrated, so raging, that they will form no animal or idea other than hate, for much much longer than the clocks of the kingdom will count.
The plains of Vale will run with a million legs, and a million blades of grass, drowning those in its way in a cacophony of a horrid stampede, for much longer than there will be the ears of man to hear its harshed noise.
The desserts of Vacuo will burn, and burn, and burn, providing for the hungry babes of torment that are the nevermore that circle it, swooping for charred flesh and sinew, for long after there are living things to provide the flesh.
And the canopies of Mistral, will shake and rumble with life for longer than there are languages to name the utterance ‘death’ to describe what the million crawling, dancing, jumping things bring upon the travelers that move between its trees.
The forest of life, of animals, of Grimm, of all things that move. This, is something that for all meaningful accounts will never change.
But for now, until time passes the moment over, it has.
All around the walls, and a slight few miles out of the city, no further, for the first time in the memory of the Mistrali military, the living forest is silent.
The trees do not rustle, or shudder under the weight of things that climb. The crackling imitation of chirping sounds off no more. It is peaceful.
But then, a stubborn noise. Something shakes for the first time in hours, digging claws in and reclaiming the shadows. A movement the guards on duty can’t identify, for all their experience. A Grimm that could wear a hundred bony faces, a hundred shapes and mockeries, makes the forest imposing once more.
Then there is a click, a tick, an unfolding, a girl, and a bang with a bellowing of air that smells like a flower that does not grow near their lands.
Than once more,
stillness.
~~~
31 DAYS AND 12 HOURS BEFORE THE FALL OF BEACON.
It’s a lot harder to navigate a city when she’s not laser-focused on a single address. Tram and cable-car lines turn into an endless web of possibilities, instead of a game of patience waiting for the one number she memorized to pop up.
The variety of buildings and people turn from a consistent backdrop, into a prodding mess of clashing ideas and appearances.
It’s overwhelming. She’s bumping into commuters like a pinball, and there’s more landmarks on each block, than in the entire town of Patch. A part of her wants to throw up, cry, and jump into the helpful abyss the middle of the city provides. Yet ever more, all of her loves it.
Food, water, work, she reminds herself. An order of operations. She reassures herself that she can do this, and then trips on a random commuter she didn’t get out of the way for. Never in her life has she not gotten out of the way ‘in time,’ it is always the case that she ‘never notices.’ By the time the stranger gets up, ready to presumably dress her down, perhaps even curse her out in a foreign tongue, she’s gone.
She may be something of an immovable object in a sea of people who don’t have the muscle mass she does, but anyone can yell at her. Though, only if she doesn’t run fast enough.
She’s never not fast enough.
~~~
31 DAYS AND 10 HOURS UNTIL THE FALL OF BEACON.
She managed to re-find the old hunters’ lodge, and acquire food. Currently, and specifically for her, there really is just a single option to choose from for the former, and an abundance for the later. A stifling amount for the later. After a lot of uncertainty on which random shop to go into, she settled on one which seemed oddly organized compared to the rest of the city. It seemed to her eyes a place Blake might like.
The people working there were incredibly nice, but their kind smiles became unsettling after Ruby mumbled her order in Valean, idle feet lingering in the restaurant’s central walkway. She’d probably feel better if they got annoyed with her.
The food was so mediocre it slid right off her mind, not memorable in either direction of quality, The price was well above anything she ever paid for anything on Patch. Though, last night proved to her that she has no idea how quantities of money actually work. Roman gave her a card to use after she handed everything in her envelope over to him, and in response he told her that as long as she keeps bringing in a similar amount of money on a regular basis, she doesn’t have to worry about it, so she won’t!
She can’t distract herself forever, and without anything to pointlessly worry over. She’s left with once again working up the courage to enter the one place in the whole foreign city, that has the potential to feel familiar. She thinks that prospect scares her.
There’s only one place in the city she can get work from. Nowadays, most Huntress teams get their work from an online bulletin board. Still, all of the four main cities still have their old lodge buildings standing, despite the flow of time. Unwilling to tear down the historic marvels, unwilling to remove the vital pieces of infrastructure. Maybe they’d be justified if the worst comes and the cities need to organize their Huntsmen the old fashioned way. Until then, they see little use except as a gathering space.
The benefit of these old buildings, Ruby finds, is that unlike a computer, if you carry a big enough weapon, you might be able to persuade the front desk clerk to give you a job without a license.
She pauses before the doors for a second, hyping herself up, allowing the trimmed wood surrounding these halls that could fit giants impose on her an importance that is not real, but fills her heart with something all the same. She knows that the ego and grandeur of a Hunter’s job is a lie, half for the public, and half for the deluded, but she’s always loved fairytales.
Her shoulders scrunch up toward her ears thinking about the type of people that must be behind these doors. Three generations, or even just one, before her. What would they think of her now? She’s still unsure if what she’s doing is cowardice, a mockery, or staying true to her heart. She sighs into the comfort of her hood. It was a lot easier to do this in the smaller towns, but she has this! What would Roman and Neo think of her being turned away not by the heroes she forsook, but by a particularly meaningful door? She flips up her hood and keeps her head down, lest her babyface ruin any chance she has, and walks in.
The lodge is sparsely populated— no surprise there, but noise washes over her as the great doors swing open. Filled with old-timers without their hearing reminiscing on what used to be, and a few younger Huntsmen who insist upon the community that something vital will be lost if these sort of communal spaces go unused. She can imagine the rooms silent, as easy as the loud truth that now fills her ears.
The main hall is grand, but it keeps itself simple in ambition. The money spent imbues a sense of comfort, even if the construction cost visibly rivals gold in its rich woods and intricate trimwork. The true center of the building is towards the ceiling, crested upon the high walls, are wooden sheets with stenciled paintings. Telling tales of surely dead Huntsmen, accomplishing deeds she has never heard of, can’t place, but now feels as if she knows.
It’s a building that does not recognize her.
She doesn’t feel out of place, but she’s aware she is something just shy of another face in the crowd. She marches towards the front desk, and she fails to decide if she likes it like that, or if this is awful.
She hasn’t made up her mind by the time she reaches it.
The clerk scans her with flinty eyes. “You’re a new face. What are you here for, stranger?” He asks her not unkindly. Old and brawny, with knuckles that have bled.
He seems a part of the building as much as the walls. And although he gives the impression of knowing the inner workings of the lodge, she can also tell he is an old and experienced huntsman. He’s a lot like Ooblek in that regard; not enough years to have mastered everything he has, yet here all the same.
“Just looking for work, I’ll take what it is you most need done. I’m here to help.” She cocks her hips to the side, trying her best to show off Crescent Rose in its sheathed form as much as she can, without revealing too much of her face.
The clerk hums skeptically. “I don’t suppose I can see a License.”
Don’t play it nervous. Better yet, don’t be nervous. But don’t be cocky either, just… Be? That can’t be right , she thinks, but it’s the best she has.
“No, I’m sorry, but you can’t.”
He looks her over once, then twice, and takes a second to consider the sound of her voice, before his eyes settle onto Crescent Rose.
“You’re a bit young for this, aren’t you?”
There’s no reason to lie , she thinks. Obviously lying might make him trust her less, and her age isn’t something she knows how to hide anyhow. At the same time, in the back of her mind she imagines Roman and Neo, both looking down at her and shaking their heads. She really doesn’t have a full grasp on what it is she signed up for with them, but she figures she should act on the side of caution when it comes to things that could lead people back to their home. So, she settles for the best lievasion she has.
She never thought of herself as such, but recent life developments have made her realize she might actually be the type of person that is naturally talented at such things. It’s difficult to rationalize the realization away, after the detail in which she just contemplated the various merits of a lie.
“I’ve gone on plenty of hunts before. I have experience, I won’t be a liability.”
“I’m sure you won't lass, but the Jungle is no place to hunt on your own. Even our best need help to traverse it. Just like Atlas and their snow, just like Vacuo and their dessert, we have certain policies and standards that must be abided by. The academy is open to anyone that can make the cut, if you do have experience, then that’s where you should head. They’ll give you lodging as well.” He adds that last part on kindly, looking down at her like she imagines he has done at so many country kids that pass through these walls and one day become trusted allies. Finding him again later in life and thanking him for saving them, for pulling them out of the hole they made for themselves by leaving their town without a plan.
She wonders how many of them have died before him.
She scoffs under her hood, quietly but without pity. They knew what they were getting into, and so did she, but she made her choice. Her life might be a doomed one, but she won't die in vain.
She doesn’t need a home that takes even that from her.
She probably should’ve expected this. The city can afford to be picky in its Huntsmen selection, compared to the towns she stopped at along the way, who were happy to entrust themselves to anyone with a weapon.
She doesn’t have a clue what she will do if she can’t hunt here. She’s not even sure if she can do something else, Hunting is her life . She was born for this. But leaving the city doesn’t feel like an option either. Not when Roman and Neo feel so… promising.
Honesty it is then, for one last plea.
“Please. I’ve been to an academy before, just for a little while. Me and my team… It didn’t work out. I can’t go through that sort of process again, I don’t think I’m built for it. I can work alone. I work better alone. I just need some work to pan out, and to be able to help where I can. Please .”
He tries to look at her intently enough to be able to see under her hood, and when he realizes that it’s a futile effort, continues to stare on. There’s a silence not in the lodge, but between the two of them. It holds something heavy Ruby can’t quite place, yet has her heart beating. Has her shaking in her bones. It’s not fear, and it’s not excitement, but it’s a feeling she wants out of her. Even still, that unbearable itch, the scrutiny of a stranger and a veteran, is weighed and found wanting. Want , is something that is flowing through her chest, and pulling her in two directions like the rapids of a split river.
The first current reminds her of her need to Hunt. Whoever she is going to be, that must be true. The second, carves out its place in Mistral. She wants to stay here. She’s not sure if she can do this, if she has to live alone. Be alone.
If the choice were to leave Mistral or hang up Crescent Rose, Ruby knows she would leave. If the choice were to be alone or crawl shamefully back to Vale, she’s not sure what she would do. She needs this, then, yearns greedily for both worlds. Mistral means Roman and Neo, and Roman and Neo mean Mistral.
If it becomes a choice between leaving Mistral, and not being able to hunt, she knows she would leave.
But she just doesn’t want to. Her throat dries at the thought, even if her desperation feels childish to her. To want so blatantly is wrong. Not who she is, or who she must be.
It’s only been recently, that she’s had trouble forcing herself to not feel this yearning that can’t be hers. She’s always known, not being vigilant would ruin her.
It already has, her presence here confirms it.
And yet she still can’t stop herself. Selfish, selfish, selfish, everything a huntress shouldn’t be.
But maybe, it can be good for something. She hopes her desperation makes it through to the clerk. She’d do anything, to have her way just this once.
She can tell what his choice is before he creaks out his first word, and she can feel all the tension in her body leave her in a single sigh of relief.
“Alright lass, That’s not something I can deny. No one here can, we’ve all seen what it’s like. Take a job, but take something you know you can handle . I won’t be responsible for an entire wipe out.”
He flips his screen around, lets her scroll through a city's worth of problems.
On the road here, she would just tell the local officials she would clear the local grounds of Grimm, return with the bones that proved it, and move on.
Here, Hunting is documented beyond reason or protection. You’re not supposed to kill something you didn’t tell the council you were Hunting to kill first. First you must document what it is you intend to remove, then you must document where exactly you will be hunting it, and then and only then, can you move to dispose of the creatures that assuredly kill and destroy what the very same council has built here, every day they are left unattended. If you see a Grimm you haven’t documented an intent to hunt, even if you have a clear line on it, you are supposed to leave it be. It’s the only way the city can keep track of exactly how many Grimm are in their forests, so they say. There is a logic to it, an illusion of safety.
But it leaves such a terrible taste in her mouth.
What was it that Neo had said? Lie, cheat, steal. Take what you want?
Well, she hasn’t really lied yet. But the idea floating through her mind is certainly close to duplicity. She isn’t cheating, unless you count ignoring the rules entirely as cheating. This is the exact opposite of stealing as well, unless you count taking jobs out of the maws of other huntsman. But from how old some of these missions are, it’s hard to describe it as stealing when you are robbing from abundance.
What she wants to do is Hunt Grimm. Play her part in the natural order of humanity. It just seems fair, really. Obvious. Regulating her out of this would be like regulating air from entering the city on a breeze.
She finds the largest designated area of land the city defines in its outskirts. She finds the posting with the most zeroes at the end, something a nascent part of her sings at. She’d never thought about Lien before, but she can only imagine how Roman eyes would sparkle, and the way his mouth would drool once more at Mistral’s big-city cash, and she hums to herself at the imagined praise. Then, she presses the “accept quest” button, and prepares to not face the consequences.
The mans eyes widen. “Hold on there. I can’t let you take this on your own. There are easier ways to kill yourself that don’t involve implicating me. Letting a solo huntress take on an King Taijitu? Even if you were licensed they’d have my head, get ba-“
He looks back up from the screen, and sees not but a single petal, drifting down towards this way and that, until it touches the ground.
~~~
31 DAYS AND EIGHT HOURS BEFORE THE FALL OF BEACON.
Take, that’s what Ruby’s new hosts want of her. To know what she wants and to seize it. For them, it’s so often money and leisure, which Ruby has never learned to cared all that much for. It’s easy, then, for Ruby to forget how natural it is for her. To take.
Her heart pounds in her ears. She feels it in her fingertips where they wrap around Crescent Rose. Space is something that belongs to her. The shadows and branches, claws and hooves and roots, each take desperately from a scarce pool in the dense wood. Compared to them, Ruby is a fragile thing. Still, she carries behind her what is death. A cut so clean, so heavy, you don’t even feel it as it takes movement and hate from the Life and Grimm caught beneath it.
Their space is simple to steal. No, it’s hardly stealing, just taking back what’s already hers. What had she told herself earlier? That voice in her ear that had sounded like Roman? It’s not stealing, if it’s robbing from abundance.
Some of these things had been alive for so long.
She Run right to where their mouths will clamp, jumps high where their tails may whip, free falls into the demise of their grasp, and faces all of them with certainty, as Crescent Rose hunts, rips, and kills all that threatens the people she has devoted everything to protect.
Three people in the past have seen her fight like this. Qrow, Yang, and Weiss. They had all seen mistakes. Saw a death she just barely avoided, a risk too bold, and told her that she had overextended into space her opponent controlled. But that had never been the case. When taking is so easy as to be predetermined, it’s only logical to act as though that space doesn't belong to her opponents at all. Even as her throat speeds past the jaws of a Taijutu with not even an inch separating her from her demise. She does not fear, she does not question, she feels nothing but joy as she takes what is hers.
She had dulled this part of herself. Held Crescent Rose like it was a defense. As if it could conduct its purpose from afar. As if there is a way to fight with it that could ever be ‘safe’. From what other position could she lead, from what other position could she inspire hope through the complete erasure of worry.
She flies through positions on the battlefield any other huntsman would perish in, if they were to attempt to take as she does. They’d be punished for overextension, punished for lack. Killed for failure. She flies through the trees, across the ground, and up into the sky, with a speed and a loose commitment to human form that overwhelms her senses with exhilarating joy .
This is fun. She had forgotten. It had been so long since hunting felt like this, before she had committed herself to her duty, to her purpose, to a summer everyone would live long enough to experience, but fighting like this is fun. It would be dull if her family had been right. If this was just luck, if she was uncertain. But this… this is fucking difficult. Seeing the singular path she can take to move like this and survive. Seeing every choice she must process, make, and execute perfectly, all within half a second, and actually fucking doing it.
It’s a melding between instinct and thought. All the life she’s poured into the Hunt, returned in soaring adrenaline and endorphins and pure joy . And even as she feels it like the undiluted truth it is, there is a hint of hate in it. An anger that she just realizes has been there all along, but she never let herself feel. The bitter taste of artificial sweetener you’d only recognize after tasting fresher food. She will never let anyone dull her down again.
She has a job to do, a role to play. A few scraps of an outline she will keep while throwing the whole story out and starting again. Crescent Rose falls upon Grimm as sure as sunrise. She sucks in a breath that tastes like Grimm-ash and lets out a laugh. Ruby Rose will never not fight like this again.
~~~
31 DAYS AND FIVE HOURS BEFORE THE FALL OF BEACON.
Ruby returns to the high walls, parapets, and falls of Mistral, with everything she needs to prove her job is complete. Bones, pictures, and a grimm satisfaction radiating like a stench stuck to her cloak.
She could sing as she skips through the streets with a giddy ferocity. She can feel everything stuck to her like a content weight in her heart. Photos of decaying Grimm than just an Elder Taijiti, a heat that’s cooled only by measured breaths and the natural cooling breeze a battle skirt provides, a stick of sweat and a sore looseness of muscles, as well as a few pocketfuls of whatever stray bones she can carry. Just in case they don’t believe the pictures.
They do. There’s a moment’s heavy silence, and the grizzled Hunters of the lodge huddle on the other side of her scroll screen.
And even with her hood down, there are eyes on her, and an air of jubilation like she never felt before. Fear, and recognition, and acknowledgement, all in one giant swirl. She doesn’t know these people, but she lets herself enjoy this. She lets herself have pride.
She’s not sure if she wants this, but, it will be good practice to try.
~~~
31 DAYS AND 2 HOURS BEFORE THE FALL OF BEACON
She sees neither Roman nor Neo on her way through the house, and though she would like to talk to them more, there is a certain blistering swell in her heart both at being trusted, and at having done it. Lived her life in such a way, to become trusted by people like the two of them.
She doesn’t know how to talk to them beyond that. Or if she wants to.
She’s on her own and fine, great, good even.
She makes her way to her room, runs through some cooldown stretches and a shower with a decadent (if confusing) array of nozzles that she fidgets with until all the nozzles spray hot as can be. Then she scrubs herself down with whatever soaps Roman had tossed in the guest bathroom as an afterthought, or maybe they came with the house? Either way, she washes until not just the work of the day, but her top most layer of dead skin and a little extra comes off.
When she hits the bed, she’s sore and free and burned and soft, and the mattress is firm and the blankets are made stiff. Meant to be pretty more than cozy, but it’s the happiest she’s ever felt to memory. It’s joy, that all of this is hers.
~~~
28 DAYS AND TWELVE HOURS BEFORE THE FALL OF BEACON
Ruby awakes and packs in the same breath. Crescent Rose strapped to her hip, her body fully dressed, and a pouch full of essentials all present and making their way out the door before she even has time to wake up. While she’s padding through the living room, chatter and a heavy, savory smell drift in from the kitchen. For the first time since she got here, it seems that Roman and Neo are awake at the same time she’s leaving.
She tries to dampen her footsteps, not wanting to bother them. They said they would reach out to her if they wanted to talk or do something or… Well, whatever it is they’d do together. Ruby’s not really sure how relationships work when she isn’t scheduling and forcing them onto others for the sake of team morale optimization. Either way, she doesn’t want to burden them. It’s a steady thought in her mind as the door creaks open just enough for her to slip out.
She’s not fast enough, to get out before someone (Roman) starts yelling.
“Hup-up-up, now where do you think you’re going, Red!?”
A very perturbed Roman stomps out of the kitchen after her, an overdramatic scowl scrunching up his face, with just a hint of actual annoyance.
“Oh, uh, hi. Sorry for sneaking out, I ju-“
He loops his arm around her shoulder, and starts directing her back into the shared kitchen, light of the morning illuminating central parts of the house that still feel new to her.
“Yes, yes, slinking away in the middle of the… Ugh. Eight am. I know all about you not wanting to bother us or whatever, and frankly I was okay with that, even if I think Neo was starting to scheme some sort of kidnapping excursion for you.”
She sounds a bit like Weiss, when she asks, “What does that mean?” and the thought discombobulates her with enough guilt and mysterious nausea that she doesn't resist Romans puppetering at all.
As the two of them make it into the kitchen, Ruby is greeted a feast. Cured meats and breads that crackle when you break them in two. Eggs and jams and creams that fill her nose with rich, savory sweetness, all wrapped into the smokey bitterness of coffee and tobacco. Both of which ruin the mood, but Ruby already knows what Roman and every other coffee-fan says: It’s an acquired taste. For the first time, she thinks she might actually acquire it, and one day that smell would be just as fine.
Neo pops up from the table, where she was slowly sliding a soft pastry covered in cream and berries into her mouth, and gives Ruby a wide smile and short, rapid wave to match.
“It means she’s bad at making friends. Look, Red, that’s not what I stopped you at the door for, I stopped you at the door because we have a problem. Two problems actually.”
Cold fear melts down her spine, but she’s almost certain she hasn’t fucked anything up yet, and panicking before he’s done with his spiel won’t do any good. Besides, she’s starting to get the sense that this is just how he talks, and it’s better to sit back and enjoy him monologuing. She’ll figure out what he really meant at the end of it all, rather than hanging onto the tension of every word.
So, she leans back into her chair a little, across from Neo who is preparing a plate stacked with every decadence on the table. The plate gets pushed towards her, and Ruby gives Neo the most thankful nod she can, before returning her attention to Roman.
“We do?”
“Yeah, yeah we fucking do. Problem one, eat.”
“Huh?”
“The food, in front of you, I’m too rich to cook every morning, or any morning at all really, and I did it for a reason. Eat.”
She thinks for a second that, this is it, this is where she gets poisoned for the many many failures in personal choices she made, that led her here.
She quashes the thought down. If those very choices are what is going to kill her, it’s not going to be because she refused to commit, or because she was scared. She trusts Roman and Neo with her entire heart, that’s final. The trust being sensible, or earned, can come later.
With a serious expression, she slowly slides a pastry into her mouth. Her teeth don’t get the chance to cut through it, as butter and fruit-flavored cream melts on her tongue. It’s unlike anything she’s ever eaten before, unfurled from plastic wrappers or the memories of her mothers cooking that never tasted as sweet as they once did after she forgot the details of their moments. The type of baked goods that have a chew and a singular flavor to enjoy. She can divide every single ingredient in this while it’s still in her mouth, appreciate them all as they are, and then let them sing as she swallows. She’s not ashamed to admit she moans as a little as it goes down, and settles gently in her stomach.
The level of quality in food you can only appreciate when you’re older, and suddenly childhood memories don’t seem half as important.
As her eyes flutter back open, she sees Roman looking at her with a raised eyebrow, and Neo from across the table nodding sagely.
“Right, okay, that is exactly why we need to have this talk.”
“Your serious talk is about pastries?”
“My serious talk is that I can see what you have been, or more aptly, not been, eating.”
There’s a brief silence in the room, and Neo snickers like a whistling sound through her teeth.
“… Have you been stalking me?”
Neo smugly signs something at Roman.
“No, I’m not ‘stalking’ you Red, I just have eyes, do the grocery shopping, and just in case you somehow forgot, you’re using my card. I know that despite presumably being out Hunting for hours I think are frankly overkill even for fully trained professionals, which you aren’t, you’re not only not taking anything from our cupboard, but you are at maximum taking eating out twice a day.”
Neo levels a very serious look at Ruby, and a sudden spike of guilt at not having purchased any sign language books, pours into the tension of being lectured like this.
She hasn’t been lectured like this… No, she realizes, she can’t remember the last time she’s been lectured like this. It’s not the way worry has manifested from the people in her life before. She’s always been seen as capable, just too young, not ready. Being told that what she’s doing is impressive, but she should take better care of herself while doing it, resonates in a way that makes her feel well and truly chastened.
“… I didn’t know if it was okay for me to grab food from here.”
“Brothers, Red, I told you,” Roman leans down so they’re face to face, hands on his hip and eyes locked. “We’re equals here Red. I don’t take charity cases. I wouldn’t have let you stay here if Neo didn’t find you interesting, and if you’re going to stay here, we are going to get to know each other now and then. I refuse to retire just to have a stranger walking in and out of my house, so you are going to be a part of this household, young lady.”
Ruby blinks. Neo is back to nodding sagely in her direction.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t—“
“Which brings me to my second point!” !”
Neo pops up behind Roman, the version of her that was just at her seat shattering, and gives an exaggerated thump of “two!” with her hands. A sort of dramatic bunny ears to accent Roman’s… presentation? Intervention? Eviction? Talking with her new roommates still feels a bit like ice skating above a dark and deep lake. She doesn’t have a clue where she stands or how sturdy her standing even is.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean t-“
“Oh, blah-blah-blah. Stop that. No apologizing for the problems you’ve made. Have a look at this!”
Roman slams a paper document in front of her. No indents, no spaces, ten point text, just complete nonsense.
“Roman, what is this?”
“It’s a pain in the ass, Red, is what it is, and a broken promise from you oh-so soon.”
“I-“
“Go on, drink your coffee, have some protein, get a taste for some actual food.”
Ruby has no idea where he is going with this, but pulls the mug of coffee close to her. She’s never really had the stuff before. Well, she had it a few times with Weiss? But that mostly involved a lot of swallowing with her tongue pressed down, and some suppressed gagging. She didn’t want to offend her, when she was trying so hard to be nice. She takes a sniff and scrunches her nose. No amount of openness to new experiences has given her more affinity for such strong bitterness.
“Oh my god, have you not had coffee before? Okay, don’t drink that, give it here, this won’t be your first cup.” He playful slaps at her hands, keeping her away from the cup of coffee, and then levels her with a serious look and a dire tone, as if his trivial concern was a grave threat. “But put that on the docket.”
“Why do you care if I like coffee or not?”
Roman looks at her like she’s as gross and bitter as his coffee. “Have you not been listening to a thing I said?”
“I… what does me not eating have to do with me not liking coffee?”
Neo goes back to her seat, and places a hand on Ruby's shoulder from across the table. Making a conflicted expression with her face as if to say, ‘I understand where you’re coming from, but you shouldn’t have said that.’
“What? No, that was not at all the point I was trying to make, I mean you will be eating three meals a day at minimum from now on, but that’s not what I took issue with. I’m objecting to the fact that your entire… perspective, is personally offensive to me.”
“I’m… sorry?”
“You should be! You really should, I mean it’s pathetic Red. It boggles the mind how some people can exist like you.”
Neo nods her head along as Roman preaches, and when Ruby looks towards her for answers, confusion plain on her face, she is given a quick apologetic look hidden from Roman. That little jerk is playing both sides.
“I mean seriously, you work your ass off. Do the work of an entire team of Huntsmen on your own. Convince people like me and Neo that you’re worth having around, and boom, all the wealth of the world is at your fingertips. Anything you want is at your beck and call, and you couldn’t care less. Not a single luxury enjoyed. As if you don’t want for anything. And I’ll tell you, everyone out there wants something, Red.”
It’s… it’s an interesting point, not one she fully considered before. It feels embarrassing, to know herself so little. “I… I don’t think that’s the case, I just… don’t know what to want.”
Roman throws his hands in the air, as if she’s pointing out the obvious. “I know! You basically said as much the night you came here! I should have realized it and done something about it instantly! I just thought you might have come to us first, I was counting on you to be a base level of annoying, that you apparently just aren’t, and somehow that ended up being worse! ” She lets out an ‘eep’ as his hands slam back down on the table, after he delivered his monologue through a distant pacing, “Well, no more! We are doing something about it, me and Neo will not let you squander life so fantastically.”
“You won’t?”
Neo shatters once again, and appears in the seat next to Ruby’s, taking the forsaken cup of coffee Roman had made for her and sipping from it, while putting a comforting hand on her thigh. Roman casually slides into Neo's old seat, giving her a serious look from across the table.
“No, we won’t. The three of us are going out today. Like I told you we would. We are going to find out what you want, and you are going to learn to love it. You did a brave thing jumping ship, a smart thing, it physically pains me for such a thing to go unrewarded.”
Something chokes at her throat, something confusing twists her heart, and for a brief moment it feels as if her body isn’t her own. The nonsense of her recent choices catching up to her, and throwing everything she could possibly be thinking about into question as she’s sitting at a strangers table in a far off land, but her self and surroundings snap back into place just as quickly as she had lost them. Roman is illuminated through linen curtains afront of her, and Neo, a woman she knows so little about at her side. It's the clarity of change.
“Y-you two don’t have to do this.”
“Nope, we don’t, Red. But Neo wants to, and I hate to admit it, but you’re interesting. Besides, I’ve always had a knack for corrupting the youth it seems, and I don’t do anything half-assed. Is it really so hard for you to understand that whatever it is that you’re doing here, is as interesting to me as it is for you? All the pleasure of showing someone how to do what they want, without all the work of finding the money for it first. Let’s figure this shit out together, huh?”
“Roman, I-“
Neo puts a finger to Ruby's lips silencing her, and Roman speaks as if one with his partner in crime, “hush hush now Little Red, no need for complicating the matters. Now, eat your sandwich.”
With misty eyes, she takes a bite of a sandwich Neo had plated for her while she wasn’t looking. A croissant with cured meat, cheese, and some sort of sauce. A flakey crunch, and another melting of just a few simply yet distinct flavors, and she’s back in heaven.
“I-it’s really good.”
“I know it’s good, I made it.”
“You did?”
“What? A guy can’t have hobbies? When you put your neck on the line to make as much money as I have, it would be stupid to not take part of every pleas—, you know what Red, I feel like I’ve been repeating myself. We eat good food here, what’s not to get?”
“No, no, I get that, it’s just—“
“Another criminal stereotyped by the law once more.” He sighs, shaking his head. “She thinks people like us can only be interested in drugs and violence, isn’t that right Neo.”
Neo shakes her head while clicking her tongue, shrugging her shoulders as if to say ‘what can you do.”
“What can you do indeed.”
“Sorry, I’ll uh, I’ll finish eating now.”
“You do that, and while you do, I can finally get to my second point.”
Roman reaches over the table, and slaps Ruby upside the head, light enough to remind herself not to spiral, but hard enough to actually hurt a bit.
“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing, Red?! I know you’re not being malicious, but that just makes this worse! I mean, shit, do we have to babysit your every move!?” !”
“Aaah! What’d I do?!”
“I mean, we’re gonna have to anyways, but I’ll get to that, and fuck me, Red! I figured you’d have some thoughts in your brain about— I don’t know, optics? Blatantly standing out?! You managed it with your pals at Beacon just fine, so what’s got your brain misfiring now?!”
“Aaah! Why are we yelling! What’s wrong?!”
“Read, Red, read!” Roman slaps the paper in front of her a few times for emphasis. It is just as un-parseable as it was before. Neo all the while is rocking back and forth with a pleasant smile, enjoying her morning.
“I can’t!” Ruby snaps, slapping it right back. “This is— This is just garbled twelve point Lucida Sans! Your weird document sucks!”
“You see Red, as I believe I mentioned. Me and Neo live in a house, where bad things would happen if attention from the authorities was placed on it. We survive by being aggressively mundane. Which means, no huntress friends, no police, no academies, isn’t that right?”
“That’s right.”
“And I told you not to bring attention to yourself through them on the very first day. I told her that, didn’t I Neo?”
Neo nods firmly.
“Red, what this is, is a report I pay for, that summarizes any and all information that might be relevant to me throughout the city. Now, do you think that perhaps the Academy, and the Hunters guild, might just start paying close attention to a Huntress, if they start not only completing missions designed for one or more huntress teams single-handedly. But the areas in which these missions take place, are also completely absent of all Grimm afterwards.”
Neo’s rocking slows to a stop, as she processes the information she just heard, apparently not having received all of it beforehand.
“Oh… oops?”
“Yeah Red, fucking oops.”
Ruby's breath starts coming a little faster, “I’m so sorry, I, I-“
“Hup-up-up, nipping that in the bud right there. An unfortunate mistake, but an easily mended one. I plan on making you into a functional young person, with a real-ass life not controlled by the whims of ‘Headmasters’ or ‘The Law.’ I know hunting is something you enjoy, and while I’ve never gotten the taste for it, I’ve certainly met enough people in my life that love the thrill of a fight enough to respect it. Under no circumstances, will I ask you to stop hunting.”
“That’s very nice and all Roman, but that’s not wh-“
Roman shoots up from his chair, finger pointed towards the sky, “Which is why we are killing a few birds with one fine day. You wanna know how me and Neo got so close Red?”
She takes the time to think about how she’s done so with her one loved ones in the past, but to the outside world of Roman and Neo, it seems as if her “How?” came instantaneously. Excitedly letting her first thought let slip from her mind. In the brief quiet hesitance between question and answer, silent just for her, remembrance of training with Uncle Qrow, training with Yang, training with Blake, and training with Weiss, had suddenly become a depressing thought to sort through. As depressing as it was quick to be thrown out.
Roman saves her from slipping into the mundane trappings of her life historical, “By spending a lot of fucking time together, that’s how! Days upon days. So! On this day, the two of us are gonna be your shadows, just... go about what you’ve been doing normally, and we’ll be there to keep you company, and point you in a new direction now and then.”
“That… that actually sounds really fun.”
“Damn right it does Red, now let’s get this show started. You’re a busy lady, and I’d hate to sit here burning daylight after I got up so early.”
Neo ushers Ruby up and out of her chair, quick to throw her arm around Ruby’s shoulder and guide the two of them out the door with a smile, Roman right on their heels.
~~~
28 DAYS AND ELEVEN HOURS BEFORE THE FALL OF BEACON.
The Mistrali morning was humid yet cool, and the streets sang with the brightness of the sun. Light wood and cobbled grey feeling vibrant, as pleasant weather and clear sky mingled with the world at hand, and the life within it. The hidden pleasures of a perfect morning, for those that go into the world to meet them.
Ruby walked down the street with tight hunched steps, hood covering her face, enjoying how the incognition made her feel. She was leading the pack of the merry three she had weasled her way into, a sense of separation and improbable rebellion in her soul. Roman walked close behind her with a strut in his step, and Neo with a pep that bordered being a skip.
“So Red, where ya taking us? Always was curious how a girl like you managed to find off the books work.”
“Oh, uh, just the lodge, really. Why?”
Both Roman and Neo halt their walking immediately.
Neo stares, shock-still and bug-eyed, and Roman’s mouth is pursed in a tight O. She immediately hears how stupid what she just said must sound, but all she can do is nervously laugh.
“Is… was there someplace else I was supposed to go…?”
“ Somewhere else she says,” Roman says in a whisper, “Red! Literally anywhere else.”
“I didn’t know other places offered hunting jobs!”
“Didn’t you say you bought our address somewhere, you’re telling me a legal hunting lodge sold you that tidbit of information with the pig seal of approval?”
“Well, yeah , I, uh, I bought that from this like… Themed bar? The leader of a foresty town told me about it on my way to the city. It was like, spider themed or something? Kinda tacky honestly, fake webs all about, but how was I supposed to know what to ask! Other than ‘Please give me this address, no I would not like drugs please and thank you, no crime for me!’”
Neo nods along to this wisely, as if it makes a great amount of sense to her.
“Okay, I’m gonna have to go and have a talk with Little Miss about how cheap she sells me out for.” And you’re not going back to that bar under any circumstances. That being said, you are going to do a little crime for yourself, if only so you hunt without ratting us all out I feel like I’ve adopted a poodle that will doom us all.”
“Why are bad guys willing to commission hunts! How does that make any sense! Why was I expected to know that!”
“Red, you’re a bad guy now.”
“No! I’m a retired bad guy now. If being your two’s hanger on makes me inherit all the no gooding you’ve done in the past, then the only thing I’ve inherited is an HOA membership and a funny backstory.”
Neo makes a gentle swing with her fingers, as if to imply ‘Not a bad guy yet. ’
Ruby and Roman both chuckle at the display, though Roman takes the moment to light a cigar and drag it to his mouth, shaking his head in a stressed mirth. “That’s about to change soon Red, if this is going to work, I’m gonna introduce you to some people that would get arrested just for showing their faces in public.” He makes a gesture towards her hood, “good practice on that front by the way, very intimidating, it’s good to build a brand in our world.”
‘Our’ flutters and weighs down upon Ruby's heart. “Right.”
“And to answer your question, It’s like you said Red. The killing of Grimm is a service required anywhere, by everyone, at any time, in near endless quantities. A lot of what the organizations I’m about to introduce you to, well, organize, are jobs that would attract an awful lot of ‘em. And believe it or not, the average junkie selling a neighborhood their next hit of whatever feels good but makes ya miserable, can’t actually fight off a Nevermore, and Nevermore swooping down upon the gutter trash for snacks isn’t great for the bottom line.”
“That… makes sense.”
He continues on, rushing past her contemplative mood, even while Neo looks at her with concern in her eyes. She was right to think that once he starts talking, he won’t stop until he’s done. “Also, Red. These people are going to have an abundance of Jobs for you, not many people come to them capable of culling Grimm. Some advice, kid? Every now and then, take some other jobs from ‘em. Protection and the like, nothing serious, but your weapon-”
“Crescent Rose.”
“Alone is enough for people to pay you to stand behind them menacingly. Muscle not meant to punch. We now know how many Grimm you can cull in a weekend, and they won’t take kindly to you bringing the city’s attention on why their estimates are suddenly so out of wack. So if you wanna go out and fight every day-”
“I… I don’t think fighting is why this is something I want.”
Neo signs something elaborate at her, and Ruby doesn’t have a clue what she’s saying. She really has wasted her freedom, and her time, in this city. She really needs those sign books.
Roman looks at her gently. “Don’t worry Red, I can translate for you, for now. She said that, even if that’s true, enjoying it is something you should learn how to do, because you might have to, so you might as well.”
“Crescent Rose is… I designed it with the idea that it would never be used on an actual person in mind. I wouldn’t last against someone who’s experienced fighting other experienced Huntsman, not unless I…”
Neo signs more at her, this time clearly slowing down for her. Romans face turns gloomy, and he doesn’t translate at first. He might not need to, some of the imagery she uses is evocative, in a way that settles an assumption of understanding in her heart, and she mutters out what is only a guess.
“You… you think that I could learn to enjoy it, using Crescent Rose how it’s supposed to… on people? That I… You really think I could be okay with something like that… because, you were in the same situation as me once?”
“Wow, I’m surprised you got all that, basically right on the money.”
Ruby looks towards Roman desperately while Neo observers her unflinching, smiling, enthused just to watch how she reacts.
“I-I don’t want to be that sort of person! I just want to be a Huntress. I’ll look past— accept certain things! It’s not the same as-”
Roman puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, but it pulls them together until his piercing eyes are entrenched in her personal space. Silver seems like such a dull color in the face of true vibrancy. “Woah! Hey, calm down there Red. You will never have to do something you don’t want to. You proved by coming here, that that’s a truth you understand well. And me and Neo, we will never force you into anything, we will never judge you for acting on nothing but your will. It’s kinda our whole thing. But just… we’re just saying, you won’t be able to hunt everyday and stay out of the Hunter systems. Which means that you’ll have to figure out other things to do with your life. You yourself said that’s something you felt like you needed to do anyhow… and you also said you were open to trying anything to figure it out. So, just, do what you want, but also don’t let the past color your understanding of yourself, your wants, your ability, or have any influence on you now.”
Neo nods along to this, her smile frozen on her face, an eerie approval of what is being said, and that Ruby is choosing to listen.
“R-right.”
Roman leans back from Ruby's personal space, and takes the moment to take lead of the walking as Ruby shuffles along, barely moving. After a few steps he sighs upwards, and says with only minor exasperation, “Of course, the other way to learn, is to have a better understanding of your surroundings. And I did promise this is supposed to be a tour. We’ll stop by a place I know along the way, get you some food to go for your outing. Nothing spectacular, I wanna be there when you have good food for the first time, but no more slop on my dime ya hear?”
He takes her silence as affirmation, gently guiding her deeper into the city. A city so plentiful, that she realizes as she stumbles through streets and neighborhoods unlike any way she thought one could live, that she never really knew what a city was. Only the country, and only the skin. Worlds and worlds contained in every stone, down every path, which she could get lost in endlessly. She doesn’t have the sense of home that lets the locals find their way easily.
The rest of the walk is quiet as can be.
~~~
28 DAYS AND TEN HOURS BEFORE THE FALL OF BEACON.
It’s on accident then, that she garners a reputation. One she’ll reflect on, awake in bed tonight, and revel in. One that fills Roman and Neo’s faces with such enrapturement, that it kindles the beginning of home.
Two criminals of great renown walk into a bar. They are inspirations, proof that all the street rats around them can turn a new leaf, and yet here they are. Coming in with packaged sandwiches from a local place even the slime that frequents here love to indulge in when they can. They lead in behind them, a cold, as if they had left the door open for a draft. Quite rude, except of course— the door is closed, and the cold is a figure.
A figure shrouded in a red cloak, dim in the dive’s lights, who carries on her back a Scythe of such mastery and excess, that none there could imagine even the richest of mortals crafting it. A woman who carries with her, utter silence, and the inevitable. One-by-one the fall of wilting petals from a rose. She says no word, and shows no face, if she even has such a thing.
Perhaps it was taken from her, they whisper. Perhaps it is scared. Perhaps it is old. Perhaps it is known and what she has done is so awful, that this is all she can do. Perhaps her calloused hands have broken the necks of those that have tried to see under it. Perhaps she has never had one at all, perhaps this is a monster, a machine, a force. What thing could loom so large, as to turn the duo that is Torchwick and Neopolitan into a trio.
Roman approaches the bar, and says with that charismatic dripping oil is he known for. “Eeeeeeeey Ronnie, do I have something great for you today.”
“What do you want, Torchwick.”
Neo slides onto the bar, her legs crossed and her umbrella twirling.
The figure looms.
“Now is that any way to speak to a friend? I’m here on charity, if you’d believe it. The only thing I want is to solve your problems.”
“Never once in the history of Remnant, have you solved someone's problems.”
“I sure have been in a lot of them though, haven’t I?”
Neo mimes a laughing audience, but not a sound is made.
“Listen Ronnie, let’s keep it simple, see this woman here.” He steps aside, gesturing to Ruby. “Trust her with any job you have. Whatever she wants to do, you let her. And please, make sure to give her options.” Roman makes a show of gesturing to Crescent Rose, as if even he is unsettled by her, “Take it from me boss man, she can get… single-minded sometimes. Best to give her options.”
The man looks at the three of them, an uncertain fear creaking through his voice, “...We don’t trust people on the honest word of Roman Torchwick.”
“Not for the important stuff, sure sure I get that. I am me after all.” He fixes the man with a winning smile, “but Red here’s not all that interested in that at the moment, and you’ll trust anyone who’s willing with the Grimm, won’t ya?”
“Not my business who wants to kill themselves.”
“Right, so hand ‘em over.”
“Hand… what over.”
“I feel like he hasn’t listened to a word I said, Neo. Has he listened to a word I said?”
Neo shrugs and shakes her head, saying for everyone to see ‘what can ya do about idiots.’
“Your hunting jobs Ronnie, hand ‘em over.”
“Which ones, Roman.”
“ All of them.”
The entire bar had stopped to observe this conversation, but Roman and his influence can carry the energy of a building, so when he pauses for effect, it is pure silence.
Ronnie, who has the job of being unphased and unamused by anyone who walks into his bar, responds with the hint of a confused tremble in his voice. “Wh-when can I expect these to be done?”
He puts a collection of paper on the desk, details on what to hunt, what proof you need for payment, and what the lofty payments actually are.
The Figure makes her first move since walking in, gently reaching her hand out, and sliding the papers into her pocket. Not saying a word, not betraying a thought, letting Roman speak for her as if her voice wasn’t worth their ears.
“Eh, end of the day probably? If I were you, I’d just consider them done.”
Neo kicks off the counter, and with a trail of petals, the trio walks out of the bar. The sound of conversation doesn’t start back up for a record-breaking thirty seconds.
~~~
28 DAYS AND NINE HOURS UNTIL THE FALL OF BEACON.
About thirty feet down the road and around the corner from the Poison Lounge, a petal flutters to rest on the cobbles.
“Red, that was brilliant— No, that was fucking amazing. I don’t think you even know what you did, but it was spectacular.”
His exuberance sweeps up her nerves into overflowing excitement. She tries to get a hold on her emotions, but it’s as easy as holding a river in her hands.
She still has jitters! She was shaking so hard in there, she had to leak some of her semblance to hide it. If she’s going to have to go there multiple times a week… she’s going to need to get a lot braver, or change some things about how she views the world.
She feels like she could throw up, but she can’t stop smiling. How easy it might be to change those things, she heard it herself, after today the option to be paid to take jobs where she might have to kill will be available to her, where she would be praised like this for it, maybe? She’s still not sure what’s expected of her. But it’s new! And they’re both smiling at her! Gesturing at her like the three of them have just gotten something away with— Well, more than murder, given their rap sheet. She doesn’t think she wants everything she’s been offered, but she can’t deny the accomplishment she feels.
~~~
28 DAYS AND SEVEN HOURS UNTIL THE FALL OF BEACON.
She asked uncle Qrow once, what it was like to kill someone. Ruby is still pretty sure he would’ve kept his lips sealed if he was sober— But instead, he grimaced. He told her it cut away a part of who he was everytime. Little pieces of himself he’ll never get back. As she cuts, and cuts, and cuts, until she’s choking on Grimm ashes, each slice tears away one little fear, one little anxiety, one free running thought, until at least she has peace.
Peace, defined by a nothing. Of a mind free from thought, and self. Empty and so alterable. Absent, and so stagnant.
A cutting, and cutting, and cutting, until all that is left is wind. The only thing capable of pushing against her speed. And her blade, the only part of herself that must be real to fight, the rest can be burst away.
It’s hardly even her that does the killing. It’s gravity. A cleaver meets a board, a guillotine meets a neck. If meat is in the way of their falling, it is not of concern or notice.
She thinks of Qrow, and she thinks of her new ‘friends.’ They are not her teachers as Qrow was, but they are still providing her guidance. The difference is that where he ran off for drink, they are providing her with companionship. Where his instructions ended at how to be a better Huntress. Theirs continues in how to live her life.
She realizes not for the first time, that it would be easy to take a life. That she already looses herself in the action, so perhaps the pain of the aftermath would be dulled.
For the first time though, the people around her wouldn’t be disgusted if she let herself slip into what was easy. They would celebrate. They would encourage her. Neo had said it blatantly, they would teach her to enjoy it. She knows it would be easy for them. She knows that if she ever did such a thing, she would have lost so much of herself, that it would be easy for them to pick up what little was left of her and make something new. Make something more like them.
That’s what she had asked for though. That’s what she told them she wanted. She hadn’t meant it like that… but do they know the difference? She knows who she has aligned herself with, and while she welcomes them in showing her how to want, do they know how it differentiates from cruelty? Does she have the bravery, to not let them. Does she have the strength, to hold this part of herself to her heart even as everything else about her changes?
She hates herself. She doesn’t like to think it so blatantly, but she wouldn’t have ran if it wasn’t true.
She doesn’t want to be Ruby Rose. She’s admitted as much. The loss of the cut, of the harvesting scythe, is seductive . She wants to lose herself, but to what?
She’s so tired. Tired of having to make these sorts of choices. Tired of having to direct the path people take, even her own. All she ever wanted to do was fight until the world was through with her. As her mother had. As a hero should.
When Qrow had told her killing took away parts of him every time. She had been jealous of everything he lost. She hated herself for the jealousy, and she still does. How dare he make such a terrible thing sound so appealing. Had the thought of hurting anyone not repulsed him, like it does her? She wanted him to tell her of fear, of disgust, of pity, of retribution, of punishment. Anything that would have allowed for her to not trust him to guide her morals. But it was left to her, as it always was.
Just as the cleaver wants the purpose of a butcher, a provider. Just as the guillotine wants the purpose of revolution, a hope. She, is so tired of having to find want within herself. She doesn’t want to have to want to be herself, a huntress, just for the sake of it on its own anymore. She wants a chance to be more.
She gave up the right to everyone she has ever loved for the chance.
The thought makes her sick, with fear and disgust. She wants to throw up, but right now she can’t. A claw ghosts her stomach, a tooth almost finds perch in her neck. She is in the process of the cull, in the space of the enemy. If she stops herself now, when the world bounces back, she won’t be in it. Before she has time to think about this, she must finish her purpose. It is easy to do so.
So easy.
She wishes it wasn’t.
She hopes it isn’t.
She doesn’t want to be Ruby Rose anymore. But there are parts of herself, she hopes to keep.
What will be harder, she wonders? The loss, or the holding?
A scythe passes through the neck of a wolf, and her job is done.
