Noblesse Oblige - Two

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Beta(s) :

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Requested By : Polemoduke

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By the time she got into town, and took a subtle enough path that she could have really gone anywhere at all other than where she was headed, it was already dark. Not late enough for stores to be closing, to avoid suspicion, but getting towards that time. Scroll open to an online bookreader, she leaned against a lightpost where she could see either way up and down the road and spent a few minutes just watching. On an open road like this one, she could see more or less up the entire road, and as late as it was getting, there weren't a lot of people out and about. No one lingered for long, and those that did were usually coming out of a store - in uniform and not - and hailing cabs so, after a while, she felt comfortable to assume she hadn't been followed.

So she only waited another half an hour before she pushed off the light-pole and made to cross the street.

She was at the edge of one of the smaller shopping districts, closer to the older section of the docks and the poorer neighborhoods that flanked them. But it was the nicer edge, with cleaner streets and trees planted along the road. Most of which were actually doing well, with green leaves hanging over little lights. And, across the street right on the corner, was the bookstore, right in a prime-time spot, with apartments on one side and stores on the other.

And a sign - 'Comics - Two for One'.

"Tukson must be doing well…" She sighed, pushing the doors open and stepping in. The man himself wasn't behind the counter, so she slid off to the side, running her finger along the spines of books in the 'Young Adult' section in a vain hope for something good to read.

Eventually she settled on some silliness about a vampire and a teenager, grabbed a few comics on the off chance Nora was a fan and went to wait at the counter.

She wasn't kept waiting for long before Tukson pushed through a swing-door and spotted her, frowning just a bit before he sighed and set the boxes he was carrying on the counter. Leaning against it he asked, quietly, "Followed protocol?"

"Obviously." She sighed, "When have I ever not?"

"You did desert." He pointed out, tapping a claw on the counter meaningfully. "I'm in my right mind to check and see."

"I…" There was a lot there she really wanted to argue but they both had more important things to deal with, so she let it go and just shrugged. "Sure, whatever."

Tukson frowned, more than a little put off by her response, but ultimately just shrugged in turn and reached under the counter. She felt a touch of anxiety at that - a gun wouldn't punch through her Aura but the sound could blow whatever cover she had - but he just pulled out a box. And, when he opened it and laid the lid neatly beside it, he tapped the battered Scroll inside meaningfully.

"Mine." He explained, leaning back and crossing his arms with a frown. "Before I turned in my reg."

"Have you heard from him yet?" She asked, gently picking up the old, weathered Scroll.

"I have." He nodded, "Called me a coward, and said I wasn't wanted. But promised not to do anything as long as I didn't go to the Bastards about it."

"I see…" She saw his brows furrow and scowled, "You know I'd never go to the Council, or their Enforcers, right?"

"Them, I'm sure." He nodded, lips thinning just a bit before he went on, lowly, "But how did you manage to get into Beacon? No Lien, no combat experience, nothing to stand out on like your little friend in red…"

"Ruby has nothing to do with any of this." The man only shrugged, though, holding his hands up in a gesture of weak surrender. And, after a second, Blake took a breath and shook it off. Instead, she turned her attention to the Scroll and frowned.

It was locked, she was sure even without checking. Tukson was a smart man, and had been around for years longer than she had even been alive. Hell, he'd been around long enough to help write some of the security measures she'd grown up learning. There was zero chance it wasn't password locked, and less of a chance she'd ever get through it with anything short of a team of Atlesian tech-heads working it over with the best gear Atlas could offer. And she'd already decided that she couldn't just sit on the sidelines while whatever was so bad Tukson had reached out to her happened…

"I… Had to admit some things to Ozpin."

"The Headmaster?!"

"Yes, but nothing sensitive!" She rushed to argue when the man's eyes widened and he took a wary step back. "I-I had to explain why I left, and I told him about Adam and… And the train. What he wanted to do, and that it didn't track with the Fang overall. Or at least what I grew up in…"

"Things have changed, yeah." The man frowned, then sighed and shook his head, casting a wary by nature look at the door and windows. "It's been weeks…"

'So if you'd said anything worth worrying about, we'd know' she understood without him having to say the words.

"I'm no traitor." She said, "I just… Couldn't be a part of where things were going."

"I get that. If you hadn't answered, I probably wouldn't be in Vale for that reason…" He sighed, shaking his head finally and shrugging. "But you're a Belladonna. If you have a problem with things then you, of everyone, have the power to change it."

"It never felt like that…"

"Only because you always stood back. Let Taurus take the reigns. He's in power because you trusted him…" That stung and she grimaced, and Tukson must have understood why because he sighed and pushed the case over to her. "My password is the real name of our home, on Menagerie."

"That's simple…" So maybe she could have guessed the password after all… No. She'd never have assumed it would be something so simple and direct. Shaking the thought off she asked, "Is that really a safe one…?"

"Hiding in simplicity." He nodded, "It works."

"I suppose it must be."

"Mhm." He nodded at the books she still had under an arm and grunted, "Take those on the house and get out of here. It's close to closing time, and-"

"The less we're seen together, the better for everyone." She nodded, tucking the Scroll into its box and then adding it to her stack of books. Without a word, Tukson handed her a thick cloth bag to drop it all in and she smiled as she filled it and left.

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The workshop was old and tiny, built so close to the docks themselves it was almost a part of it, right by the sea. It was barely more than a garage, really, built along with a half dozen more into the side of a warehouse with dumpsters, trucks and other assorted loose junk shoved in between the doors to form makeshift walls in the alley between it and a waterside dock whose lights were on even now, speckling the ground between the two warehouses in spotty flecks from where it shone through the mesh of the metal fence.

But, inside, it was clean as could be, with a motorcycle up on a raised sort of pedestal and rolling carts covered in tools all around it. An empty trash bin, big enough for their entire team to fit in it, was shoved into a corner. But it was empty.

"Hm." He hummed as Yang pulled the rolling door shut behind them and the main lights flickered on, fluorescent bathing the room from a light square ensconced into the ceiling around the work area.

"Hm?" Yang mimicked, kicking over a rolling stool and sitting down at the workspace, right beside the bike where a box had been left. Without even looking up at him, she asked, "Problem, friend-o?"

"No." He shook his head, standing beside her and watching her carefully open the package - wary in case she had to return it, he figured - and pulled out the sleek silver piece she'd ordered. "I'm merely surprised it's so neat. Ordered. And that is a nice system… But not a Mark Twenty."

"No it is." She argued, turning it in her hand and running her finger along the merger between the primary fuel system and a secondary pump addition, "Custom work, this. Looks like a fuel charger. I press a button somewhere on my baby and-"

"It pumps a purified fuel cocktail in, letting you boost your speed." He nodded, leaning one hand against the edge of the work-table so he could get a better look. And, he realized, he could see it now that he looked. A slightly different shade of gun-metal gray, painted in after, to blend over the weld and fix marks. "Impressive work."

"Yep, she'll be a beauty on my Bumblebee." She smiled, flicking him a sidelong glance and asking wryly, "Why are you surprised I keep a clean shop, exactly?"

"I've only ever known Nora's chaos and…" He pursed his lips, looking for the right way to phrase the words he didn't want to say in a way that would be better for polite company. Finally he settled on, "And her teachers' chaos, too."

"Some mook out in the sticks?"

"I would not phrase it quite that way…" But he also couldn't argue it was incorrect, either. So he just sighed and turned to pull a second rolling stool around the table and sit with her. "But yes. We lived out in the country, and our teachers dwelt there as well. Obviously."

"Hey, didn't mean it as a snipe." She shrugged, turning and pulling open one of the tool cabinets that lined the bottom of the work-table. While she dug she said, "Past is in the past. Learned a while ago to leave it there, if you don't wanna dig it up. Guessing you don't?"

"I'd rather not…"

"Cool." She turned to him, holding out a screwdriver, some pliers and a fastener in a fist. "Help me crack my baby open to get her tuned up and ready to purr, then?"

"Sure." He smiled, taking the tools and turning to look over the sleek bike.

Quietly, Yang added, "And if you break her, I break you. 'Kay?"

"Now you sound like Nora." He smiled, shaking his head and waving at the bike, "Come on, then. Let's not waste time we could spend working."

"That eager to get your hands dirty again, country boy?" He just rolled his eyes and shot her a look, and Yang sighed playfully, "Hey, hey, no judging. I can appreciate someone good with their hands."

He raised an eyebrow, pursed his lips and shot the woman a sharper look, but she didn't acknowledge it. She just hummed and stood, turning to head over to a rack with some old, denim cover-alls she could pull on. She pitched him one, too, as she came back and he sighed wearily. Great. He had two Noras now…

"Come on now, tough guy." She smiled, "Let's get 'er done."

That managed to drag a chuckle out of him and he decided a second Nora wouldn't be something he was against…

The next few hours passed far quicker than he'd expected, once they cracked open the casing enclosing Bumblebee's innards. The fuel system on her engine was internal to the transmission system, to let it properly power the twin pull systems that spun both of the wheels for added speed and control, so they had to carefully take out the transmission first. Once it was disassembled on the table beside the bike they went ahead and cleaned the pieces before reassembling it all with the new fuel-system, running a controller from the super-charger up to her throttle. Yang already had a custom handle, and spare parts for it, so putting together a switcher to kick the extra system on and off was simple.

More difficult was the second fuel intake for the super. Normally, like most bikes, she just ran it off liquid Dust pumped in at any gas station. But for a second intake, they had to machine a second intake. While he did that, she ran out for the piping they'd need and only after they had it,and everything done, did they realize…

"We have to disassemble it to run the piping." Yang groaned, flopping out on the ground while Ren gathered the tools they'd need to get it done, humming all the while. A second passed and she grunted, "It's nine already…"

"Hungry?"

"Yep. And we're already late for the last airship in, so can't stop on the way…"

"Just order delivery, or pick-up, and we'll ride in come morning." He suggested quietly, already absorbed in the intricacies of the work to come. Work like this had always calmed him, let him relax, and he was loathe to leave now. Unless, "Or do you want to leave?"

"You don't mind overnighting?"

"Why would I?"

"Don't have a bed." She shrugged, "Just some blankets in a box somewhere. Concrete floors don't sleep great…"

"Remember where I'm from." He smiled wryly, finally turning to face her, leaning on the table with a hand and a smirk. "Concrete? Relatively new. But sleeping on dirty floors is something Nora and I are old hands at. It won't bother me if it doesn't bother you."

"Well alright then." Yang smirked, crossing her arms over her dirty front and paying him a respectful nod, "Hell, man, you're not what I thought you were at all. Are you?"

"No." He smiled, "I imagine I'm not. Now, food?"

"I'll run and grab something." She shrugged, hesitating a moment before finally shrugging and moving on. "You can handle taking her apart again, yeah? Shouldn't be hard, we just did it."

"I can…" And he knew a display of trust when he saw it, and met it as one, nodding his thanks and grunting. "She'll be apart when you get back. Nice and neat. We can finish up after we eat and turn in for the night. Yeah?"

"Works." Yang nodded, dragging up the door enough to duck under it and leaving it cracked, so the air could flow a bit.

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Yang slipped a foot under the lip of the door she'd left open and kicked it up, arms full of bags of food and a box for a blow-up mattress she'd seen and borrowed Lien from her dad to grab. Ren could say the floor was alright all he liked but she wasn't going to make a good friend sleep on bare concrete if it could be helped. Just wasn't in her. Especially since she found him bent over her fuel assembly system, finishing up the work like he'd promised to and singing quietly as he did.

"If you work, you eat to work. If you eat, you work to eat. Veg or meat, keeps you on your feet…"

"What's that?" The man jumped, startled apparently, and spun to face her, one hand hovering close to his thigh for a moment. She knew the reaction for what it was and took a step back to let him blink and calm himself down. He did, hand curling into a fist before he sighed and opened his mouth to apologize. She cut him off, bumping her hip into his and grinning, "Nope, not your fault, so don't start with that."

"I…" He sighed and backed up, clearing some space on the table for her to set the bags, and shrugged. "Alright. What did you get? Smells… Spicy. And of rice."

"I ordered Mistrali."

"Hm." He took one of the boxes when she offered it and cracked it open, frowning deeply. "What is this?"

"Uh, Mistrali spicy rice and beef, with a side of broccoli?" She shrugged, opening her own box of the same and setting the chicken-on-a-stick between them with the soy sauce to share. When his brows furrowed, she chuckled and asked, "What? Don't like broccoli?"

"This," he grunted as he sat, "is not Mistrali."

"What?" She blinked, "How is it not?"

"It just… Isn't." He sighed, shaking his head and holding up one of the soy packets. "First of all, you cook this into the meat. It's not a… Sauce to add. Second, the meat should be served with rice in the soup with beef and vegetables like this and-"

"You don't like it, I guess." She sighed, "Sorry, I thought it was like Mistral stuff, so-"

"I'm a cook." He cut her off, opening the packet and grabbing another for his beef and rice while she blinked, confused. "Criticising food is a part of what I enjoy doing. It's nothing to do with you, or the food, so don't fret."

"So it's… Not bad?"

"No." He shrugged, "But it is false advertising."

She snorted and turned to the disassembled engine block as they ate in silence until, finally, she couldn't keep her curiosity at bay and asked, "So, Nora and Blake…"

"Mhm." He flicked her a look, one brow raised, "What about them?"

"What if it goes somewhere?"

"Then I'll be all the happier for the both of them."

"I mean, yeah, same, but…" She frowned, cutting the stem off her broccoli and setting the leaves to soak in the spicy sauce. "But are you and Nora, you know…"

"Together?" She nodded and he smiled, "In a sense, yes. But we're Mistrali. Southern Mistrali, to be exact. Monogamy isn't so central to us as it is to you Valeans."

"So you're-"

"Poly." He nodded and shrugged, "Why wouldn't we be with where we're from?"

"I mean, I guess that makes sense…"

"It bothers you." It wasn't a question, or an accusation. Ren just said it and met her gaze while she squirmed a bit, unsure of what to say. Finally, he shrugged and asked, "Why?"

"Just seems weird, I guess…"

"Every culture seems weird to an outsider." Ren shrugged, waving a hand at the city around them, "Your city is so different from Mistral it confuses me. You're ringed by mountains, so why do you not terrace farm? Because your culture doesn't represent that. It's all the same."

"That's fair, yeah." And somehow it made the other Kingdoms seem all the more interesting… What was Atlas like then? Vacuo? And terraced farms sounded beautiful in her head. "Do you do terraced orchards?"

"Yes, but they are wider, to account for roots, and usually backed with stone instead of wood to keep the roots from breaking a terrace wall down."

"Huh." She blinked, "Neat."

"Mhm."

"I'll just have to get used to things." She shrugged, smiling as she bit into the spicy-sauce soaked broccoli and shrugged. "Just wanted to know where things were. Didn't wanna see a big fight in a few weeks or whatever, you know?"

"I understand, yes." He nodded, setting his empty box aside and reaching for the chicken. Grabbing half he yanked them off their sticks, eating them as he cleaned up and finished, "Let's get it done and get your mattress set up. It's getting late."

"Yeppidy." She nodded, shovelling her rice into her mouth and standing to join him.

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The RIght Price :

Glad you're enjoying the teams lol. As for future plans, kinda unsure on your questions as this is more piece-meal slice of life short term adventure sorts of things.

Lea :

Ye, lots o' set-up.

Geralt Rex :

Eh, his V8 set wasn't BAD lol. I just disliked the hair.

And yeah, I imagine they'd have picked up plenty of skills as orphans. Enough to get into an Academy at the very least.