14Chapter 1
Dreamers & Schemers
A whistling stranger striding jauntily through a quiet, empty park glides to a stop, his jazzy musical number slowly stilling on spying a solitary girl in red sat sleepily upon a bench across from a sad little fountain, her pensive bearing and wistful countenance at odds with her tranquil surroundings as she brooded, seemingly oblivious to the golden lances of afternoon sunlight piercing the sprawling tree canopies overhead to fall about her.
The artistically inclined might perceive a picturesque moment worthy of a master painter's immortalising brush. Nature however was not done adding the finishing touches to its circumstantial set piece for a brisk maiden of a breeze lifted, singing through creaking branches and autumn leaves, skirts swirling with windblown petals in a mesmerising saltation of pinks, purples and crimsons.
Yet. Undisturbed the girl remains, sat statuesque still bar the minute rise and fall of chest and shoulders, her breathing, posture and bowed head indicatory of one lost within the internal landscape of their own discordant thoughts.
A less observant passerby might assume she'd fallen asleep. A less grounded passerby might miss the girl's evident disgruntlement, seeing only the moment's superfluously vibrant serenity. The stranger however, while not artistically disinclined nor untouched by the vividly surreal spectacle nevertheless saw only a sulky, pouting child.
Perpetual troublesome companions they were, his natural curiosity and the habitual urge to vex, their combination is like a drug, a vice, irresistible, its siren's call too powerful and the moment too perfect.
Besides, he still had an hour to kill before preparing the coming night's dubiously lucrative festivities. Why not have a little fun annoying the brat? And really. What kind of respectable adult would he be if he didn't inquire after the wellbeing of a potentially lost little girl.
Let it never be said that Roman Torchwick is above performing a public service.
Stirring from wistful ruminations, Ruby registered and dismissed the sound of approaching unfamiliar footfalls. Against expectation their source did not pass but rather drew nearer until a pair of expensive shoes entered and stopped at the upper-edge of her downcast vision, the tip of a fancy cane settling to join them with a gentle thunk. The dramatic sound coinciding with the quieting breeze felt entirely too deliberate, yet on its thoroughly bemused audience the effect was decidedly wasted.
"..."
"..."
Feeling scrutinised yet refusing to look up, Ruby betrayed no reaction, silently awaiting the stranger's boredom at her disinterest to carry them elsewhere.
It did not. Instead a smooth voice dripping with cocksure curiosity inquired.
"Why the face?"
"... I'm sorry?"
"That face. What's with it?"
"Uhh, its the only face I've got; and I'm pretty attached to it..."
Sniffing slightly, Ruby finally looked up at the rude irritant, her rising gaze noting the black pants, white coat, long black gloves, grey scarf and obnoxiously styled bright orange hair of a dapper, green eyed thirty-something man. Actually his whole getup looked oddly familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. Something about the cane he casually leaned his weight on niggled at her too, but she was too annoyed at her introspection being disrupted to care.
Exaggeratedly squinting at this snarky newcomer, a cheeky smile curved Ruby's lips "What's with the hat?" Alas she'd noticed his eyeliner a heartbeat too late; a missed opportunity.
"Hey don't badmouth the bowler. I like this hat."
"And I like my face... Truce?"
"Diplomacy eh?" He sounded vaguely perplexed "Not the reaction I'm used to, but I'll roll with it. Truce it is... Seriously though. Why the face?"
"Hurrah for second chances!" Ruby inwardly cheered "Seriously though. Why the eyeliner?"
Muttering "Shortest truce in history." He snorted, gesturing dismissively "Now why should I take fashion critique from a brat who dresses like some Gothic Lolita straight out of some crappy Mistralian uwu-anime? I mean come on, you look ridiculous."
"You broke it first; and why should I take fashion critique from an old guy who dresses like an insecure mafioso wannabe from some corny B List crime flick?" Poorly impersonating a cliche mobster's body language, tone and accent, Ruby gesticulated bombastically, quoting "A'ged da hell oudda heah!" That wasn't actually what his appearance reminded her of, but since said resemblance still evaded remembrance, this would do; and do it did.
"Mafioso?! W-why you..." The angrily wagging finger of a man mortally offended made its debut "Alright now listen here you little shit. Firstly, get your fricking genres right. And secondly. This" Waving at himself "Is peak fashion. Do you have any idea how hard it is to pull off this look?"
"No. And do you have any idea how creepy it is for a grown man to approach a girl my age while she's sitting alone in an empty park on a nice afternoon?"
"I want to say no. But I'd be lying."
Ruby pursed her lips and with faux wide-eyed innocence sweetly singsonged "Stran-ger Dan-ger."
"That's a matter of perspective, kid." Simpered The Stranger "Which brings us full circle to my original question. So, eleven year old girl who..."
"Fifteen." Ruby firmly corrected.
"Really? Damn you're short." He raised his hands placatingly at her suddenly stormy expression "Woah, not that I'd ever make light of the vertically challenged; hot stove, don't touch." He shuddered as if reliving some particularly traumatic memory.
"I am not vertically challenged! I'm... I'm just a late bloomer. Okay." She rationalised, arms crossed, pouting "Plus I drink lots of milk, so It'll be fine - I hope." Deflating, Ruby blew an irritable little raspberry, her gaze focusing beyond him to the feebly flowing fountain and the pretty blanket of fallen petals bobbing atop its rippling waters, embarrassed at her own childishness.
"Okay, touchy subject duly noted... Well then fifteen year old girl who drinks lots of milk and isn't vertically challenged. Why are you sitting alone in an empty park this afternoon?"
"Did I not say its a nice afternoon. As in nice for sitting in a quiet empty park alone. Well there it is. Now if you don't mind, I'd like my afternoon to stay nice, which it won't with you hovering over me like a stoned deathstalker." That last line she borrowed from her uncle; paraphrased without his profanity of course.
"Oops, hehe. You're right. Hovering is rude." He agreed and snuffed out her hopes for renewed solitude before they even blossomed by unceremoniously plopping down on the bench beside her.
"Hey!" Ruby objected, recoiling slightly "That was your cue to leave, not steal half of my bench!... W-what's so funny?!" Ruby scowled at the now chortling weirdo.
"Ah nothing really. Its just the first time anyone's accused me of stealing half a park bench." The entitled jerk clearly perceived a joke she didn't, something Ruby hated.
"Unwanted company? Check. Creepily laughing? Check. Yep, stranger danger vibes skyrocketing." She glowered suspiciously. Normally she'd never be so abrasive toward strangers, but this snarky creep was asking for it. Logically she should just walk away, but she couldn't, it'd feel too much like losing to this jerk "What's your deal anyway?"
"Good question. Not exactly sure myself." He tutted at her raised eyebrow "Hell kid, normally I'd have swaggered right on by carefree as ya please. But I've got keen instincts, and right now they're telling me you can handle yourself in a scrap. I mean a normal kid would've already legged it; not you though..."
"You're darn right I can handle myself." Not an idle boast given who trained her. Indeed she felt equal to challenges far more perilous than any this goofball and his overcompensating wardrobe might pose. Nice that he noticed, though "So don't try any funny business. Mr. Creep."
"Wouldn't dream of it. But fair point. Astoundingly, as first impressions go, I'm failing."
"Badly."
"Badly." He agreed "Let's start over."
With practised fluidity the man withdrew a cigar box, lighter and a circular cutter. Flipping the former two open, he slid a cigar free using his teeth, deftly clipped the end with the cutter, lit it then tossed the clipped end carelessly over his shoulder, littering the garden behind them. The show ended with a performative flourish in which, box, clipper and lighter magically vanished.
Ruby's amazement at his showmanship didn't blunt her burgeoning annoyance. Irately she threw up her hands "Oh sure. Sure. Make yourself at home. No don't mind me. Go ahead. Light up and start blowing secondhand smoke into the fresh air I was just enjoying."
"Hey thanks kid. Don't mind if I do." Delightedly he blew a big puff of smoke for added effect, the light breeze mercifully whisking its piney stench away as he stretched, Ruby cringing slightly when his spine audibly, repeatedly popped. Sighing in relief, the stranger lounged against the bench's backrest with hands tucked behind his head, legs lazily extending before him and crossed at the ankles; the very picture of relaxation.
"Wow. Stellar do-over Mister. That was a muuuch better first impression." Ruby slow clapped "Sheesh. Can ya say – Lung Cancer. ?"
"Never heard of it..." This accompanying another puff "So..."
"So what?" Ruby deflected; determined to be equally annoying.
"Sow buttons. What else?"
"Heh." Ruby huffed a laugh despite herself.
"...Soooo." He tried again.
"Why the face? Right?" Seeing him shrug expectantly, Ruby sighed, began "I..." but hesitated.
"Aww c'mon. You can trust me. We're bench buddies." He reasoned, smile exuding a weirdly compelling charm.
Ruby let out an absurdist chortle "Bench Buddies?! I don't even know who you are! Isn't it basic social etiquette to at least introduce yourself before nosing into a stranger's personal affairs?"
"Is it? Huh. Not where I grew up. But suit yourself. Set the example and I'll meet ya halfway."
Huffing "Fine." Ruby shifted and boldly, voice dripping fake cheer, extended her hand "Hi, I'm Ruby."
After a brief pause he accepted her proffered hand, instigating a firm gentlemanly handshake "Roman." then steadily withdrew, presumably to reduce the creepy stranger vibes "Nice to meet you, Little Red."
"Or give me a nickname. Not like we only just met or anything... Well, Roman. The reason for, The Face." She finger quoted, thumbs indicating said face "Is pretty straightforward. I have a dream, and I'm too impatient to go the long way about making it a reality."
"Let me guesssss..." Roman tilted his head in thought then snapped his fingers, pointing "Aspiring huntress."
"Oh, uhm. Yes! How'd you guess?"
"The personalised getup, the smell of recently discharged ammunition and the conspicuous mecha=shift weapon poking out your back pocket, among other telltales. Thus basic deduction concludes, wannabe huntress, well that or underaged fetish model working some scummy establishment's catwalk. Thankfully its the former."
"...What?! Ew! Why would you even?... Wait. Those places exist?!"
"Here? Nah. They used to, but then Vale's current friendly neighbourhood Crime Boss took over and put those shitholes to the, pfft, torch." He guffawed as if at some private joke then shrugged "Hey, sometimes even career criminals have standards; go figure."
"Oh. Neat..." Ruby blinked "...Vale has a crime boss?"
Roman blinked "...Everywhere has a crime boss."
"Not where I live."
"Ah the bliss of ignorance. Out of sight, out of mind."
"What is this guy? A roving philosopher? If so, he sucks." Mused Ruby, grimacing exasperatedly "Whatever. You're sense of humour is still awful. Please don't say gross stuff like that."
"I reject that assertion. My sense of humour is the height of gentlemanly refinement. But fair enough, listing that option was in bad taste on my part; fractionally... Sorry." Solemnly he tipped his hat.
Recognising true sincerity behind the contrarian attitude, Ruby sighed "Apology accepted."
"For the record. My third guess was cosplayer." Roman added nonchalantly.
Ruby shot him a withering look, sneering darkly in monotone "I will dance on your grave."
"...Scary." He warbled, hands raised, fingers and cigar waggling theatrically before taking another drag, holding it and… exhaling smoke through his nose?
Ruby shrugged, nonplussed "Anyway..." Her pensive introspective demeanour returning, she affirmed "Yes, I want to be a huntress. Actually I'm already a Signal student."
"From Patch eh?" He side-eyed her languidly "Okay. So you want to, what? Graduate early?"
"N-not exactly. See, my big sis Yang will be taking Beacon's initiation test soon and..." Lips pursed, Ruby looked away, fidgeting.
"You want to go with her." Roman posited and Ruby nodded sheepishly "Pretty tall order, skipping, what, two grades?" Another nod "I respect the ambition Little Red," Ruby hated that nickname already "But do you have the hustle to back it up? If you wanna cheat the system, you'll need a bold game plan,"
"Don't have one." She groused dejectedly "And I don't want to cheat. I just want to get recognised on my own merits and..."
"Why the hell do you even want to be a huntsmen?" He interrupted sourly, sounding genuinely baffled "Your whole life's still ahead of you. No really. Why?"
Offended, Ruby challenged "What's wrong with becoming a huntress?"
"What's wrong with doing anything other than that?!" As if catching himself, Roman shook his head, snorting "Nyaa nevermind; far be it for me to talk kids out of an early grave."
"...Pff-pfft-hahaha. S-sorry-sorry. Its just for a second there you sounded like my Uncle Qrow."
"Uncle, Qrow?..."
"Yep. He trains me in his free time." Ruby preened, missing Roman's momentary paler "Its partly thanks to his training that Remnant's Future Greatest Huntress Of All Time stands before you." She joked lightheartedly "Err-or sits before you." Awkward chuckling and head-scratching ensued.
"Well holy crap." Roman breathed "You're the ol' drinky bird's niece?"
"Oh, you've heard of him. Makes sense. He is pretty famous in certain circles. But I say he's The Coolest Man Alive!"
"Hey. That's my title."
"You're delusional."
"I am a visionary of unrivalled sophistication. But you, Little Red are the delusional one, wasting time and energy on self-pitying daydreams of joining Beacon instead of actually making it happen."
"How though?"
"Use your imagination. You've obviously got one." A none too subtle jab.
"Wooowww, so helpful." Ruby gushed sarcastically then slumped. "...Its hopeless." Why was she confiding in this random jackass again? "Might as well. Complaining to Dad and Yang only gets me head pats. But maybe this Roman guy can offer some real advice. He does radiate a weirdly roguish sorta worldly wisdom; that and his cane..."
"Then quit moping about stuff you can but won't change and settle for Signal."
"But I wanna go to Beacon with Yaaaang." Ruby bellyached, bouncing agitatedly enough to rattle the bench.
Motioning dramatically, Roman proclaimed "Ladies, gentlemen, faunus and grimm! Today I present to you, Remnant's Future Greatest Huntress, Of All Time... what a world." His delivery tonally transitioning from upbeat to downcast, Roman slumped like a man resigned to Remnant's foredooming and... burped smoke.
"I don't actually want to be the greatest. I mean that'd be nice but all I; I-I just want to be a huntress like my m..." Stopping herself cold, Ruby looked away morosely, gnawing her bottom lip and twiddling her fingers "...I don't want to be special. I just want to be the best me I can be." A heartfelt statement disguising a deeper, more personal motivation that this eccentric stranger had no business prying into. Mercifully he didn't pry. Less mercifully however...
"...Wait-wait-wait, let me get this straight." He was trying not to laugh "You're raring to skip two grades, but don't want to be seen, as special..." Eyelids drooping beneath weighty incredulity, Roman shook his head violently "Yep, that logic checks out."
Ruby flushed "I get it okay! I'm not some naive kid. I know its unreasonable but..."
"Wanting the unreasonable ain't the issue, Red. If anything its an incentive."
"Then what is the issue?!" Her question was more plea than shout.
"Oh for fuck sake. Look. You either take life by the throat or it leads you by the nose. You say you don't want to be special? Well there's your problem Little Miss Humility. You should want to be special, and you know, you, know that deep, deep down you do want to be special! Because if you didn't, you wouldn't even be here sulking about it! Once..." Clearing his throat and recomposing himself back into the smooth-talking rogue of just now with disturbing efficiency, Roman held eye-contact and grinned reassuringly "Once you accept that, Little Red, it simply becomes a question of how you get there."
"Ooooo Soooo deeeeep. Did a fortune cracker tell you that?" Her snippy counter lacked its intended bite however "...Dammit. He's, not wrong... A greedy part of me does want that..."
As if hearing her thoughts, Roman chuckled, and not unkindly "Ya'know Red, you're alright. You've got spirit; I like that. Let's see if we can't channel it more effectively." His reaction visibly baffled Ruby "To clarify. You want a chance to publicly strut your stuff and impress the Beacon bigwigs?"
Curiosity cautiously piqued, Ruby nodded, "Ye-P. Preferably Headmaster Ozpin himself."
"Riiiight. Ozpin, Ozpin..." Some unreadable emotion flickered behind his eyes and vanished. Bitterness maybe? "But to impress the old fart enough to convince him to break established age of initiation rules and give you a shot you'll need to find, or create, a suitably risky situation in which to flash those huntress skills and gain notoriety; ideally without dying."
"Yeah not dying would be nice." She tittered softly, smiling "Although I'd much rather find such a situation than create one; that'd just feel, wrong."
"You're no fun." He tsk'd, disappointedly continuing "And resolve said situation in an honest, above board fashion... without knowingly or willingly cheating... Still, right place right time opportunities rarely just fall into our laps, tragically."
"Sure would be nice if they did, huh. Guess its too much to hope a full-grown Nevermore will slip by Vale's anti-air defences and attack nobody else but me so I can make a super-awesome show of cutting its head off, especially if a bystander records it on their scroll and it goes viral on the holo-net. Uhh on second thoughts holo-net fame might garner too much attention of the wrong sort. Just thinking about it makes me nervous." Ruby hugged herself, her incompletely cured social anxieties making her feel itchy. Not getting a response however, Ruby looked over.
Sitting unresponsive, Roman appeared to be deep in thought, eyes distant, muttering "Place, time, happenstance..." Abruptly his focused emerald gaze snapped up to meet Ruby's, making her flinch "You're right, that is too much to hope for. Howeveeeeer, there's more than one way to skin a cat, and huntsmen are unfortunately known for more than monster slaying." A slightly manic, too-wide smile split his face, wisps of smoke escaping it like tormented souls fleeing their prison "What if you prove your metal some other way; like...?"
"Like what? Like what?!" Ruby grabbed his sleeve excitedly, leaning in despite his disquieting expression.
"Hey hey, watch the coat." Shooing hands rebuffed her.
"Oh sorry." Ruby withdrew sheepishly; alas juvenile alacrity can never factitious contrition quell "Uh, so. Like what? Mr. Roman, sir."
"Pft, Mr. Roman." He shook his head, amused "To recap. Something public, challenging, heroic and not wilfully cheating?"
"M-Hm-M-Hm" A smiling Ruby nodded exuberantly along before shrewdly stating "You've got an idea."
"I do indeed." He winked "...But I can't tell you."
"...Can't? or won't?" Ruby inquired yet more shrewdly.
"Can't. Not without... ugh, it goes against my very nature, especially given my longstanding disdain for Huntsmen; but alright, I'll illuminate the first step to take. The rest however will depend on you. Capish?"
"...Capish." Ruby agreed, returning his Okay hand gesture.
"You sure you're up for this?" Roman probed, a sly twinkle in his jade eyes.
"A bazzillion percent sure." Flames of determination burned behind her own silver ones.
He nodded "Righty-o. Firstly, locale... From Dust Till Dawn. You know the place?"
"I've heard of it. Word in the workshop says its one of Vale's more prominent middle class dust shops."
His fingers mimed a firing pistol "Got it in one. All you need to do is be in that store at seven oclock sharp this very evening, not a second later. Arrive at five-to just in case and act like a normal customer."
"Wait. That's it. Just, go there and, what?"
"I told ya. Wait till seven; oops. Is that past your bedtime?" He smirked "Your petulant scowl says, maybe; no. No? No. Excellent!" He clapped once, gloved hands rubbing together "Now remember, seven."
"B-but what happens at seven? Why? Where? Ugh I'm so confused! You've gotta give me more than that." She complained, thoroughly mystified.
"Trust me Red, don't overthink it. You'll know when the time is right and your noble hero's heart will guide you from there. Then, If you play your cards properly, there and in the aftermath, I reckon you'll have a good chance of your daydream becoming a reality. That Old Fart's bound to take notice, especially given who your uncle is. Its not a guarantee mind you, but they're odds worth the gamble I'd say; no major drawback either way."
"Easy for you to say when I'm the one going in blind." Ruby groused, some cautious suspicion finally tempering her youthful exuberance, tardily as ever.
"Hey, go or don't go. No skin off my cigar." Roman stood, stretched "Ahhhhsss for me; break time's over. Thanks for the chat kiddo; astonishingly you actually weren't boring."
"Uhhh thanks; I, think...?" Ruby blinked dumbly at his back as he turned to leave, mildly dazed.
Roman took a step, paused, half-turned and shot her a backward wink and a conspiratorially crooked cigar laden grin "Later Red; literally."
With a polite tip of his hat, off he strode, whistling and twirling his expensive cane, a cane Ruby felt increasingly certain was a superbly crafted and cleverly disguised mecha-shift weapon; just not cleverly enough to fool the experienced eye of a dedicated weapons nerd like herself. Predictably the impulse to pursue and pester him with questions about its functionality surged, but something else unexpectedly silenced her baying inner-geek.
"Is he, swaggering?" Ruby shook her head and rubbed her eyes as if trying to wake from a fever dream "Wow, he really is, and the fact he pulls it off so well is really annoying for some reason." Then suddenly it hit her like a random truck hits a Mistralian comicbook protagonist, that familiarity his appearance evoked and the uncanny resemblance which had hitherto eluded her "How did I miss that! The hat, the hair, the cane. Rgghh stupid Ruby! Its so obvious!"
Ruby's gaping fish impression morphed into a big shit-eating grin, unable to resist a chance at taking the swag out of that swagger; in fact she'd be remiss not to do so.
Silver eyes aglitter with mischief. Ruby shouted chirpily at Roman's retreating back "Thank you Mr Clockwork! Goodbye!"
Roman stumbled as if hit in the back by a flung mallet and nearly face-planted into the pavement. Only an innocent smile and friendly wave farewell met the baleful look he shot back at her over one stiff shoulder. Sneering, Roman gathered his remaining dignity, straightened, whirled and stalked off grumbling unflattering nothings under his breath, even as, under hers Ruby chuckled villainously "Swagger De-swagged, hu-hu-hu." But her act quickly degenerated into the giggles of a misbehaving school girl.
After Ruby's uninvited bench buddy vanished first from sight then from earshot, the quiet solitude settled again about her, but no longer of a mood for it she quickly grew restless with chaotic thoughts of Roman's cryptic instructions and a potential shortcut to attending Beacon. One look at the sun's position however had Ruby consulting her scroll's clock. The time startled her. She'd been brooding here for over half hour, not counting Mr Clockwork's advent. Her Dad and Sister had probably returned to the hotel suite by now from, whatever it was they were out doing, or soon would be. Dinner time wasn't far off anyways.
"Okie-Doki. Back to the hotel I go... But first to the fruit shop. My strawberry cravings command it. Hmm, maybe some cookies, too, and milk... Mission log updated."
%&$%&$%&$%&$%&$%&$%&$%&$%&$%&$
...Gambling...
On A Girl's Noble Dream & A Criminals Desperate Scheme.
They make their bets and role the dice
To save one world the girl rolls them twice – Three 4's and a lucky-lucky 6.
Can she claim her prize?
When next his turn arrives, The Crime Lord cheats and swaps the dice.
To save two lives he rolls them thrice – Snake Eyes, Snake Eyes, Snake Eyes
Can he afford such a price?
Gambling. Chancing. Hazarding.
When it is only in strangers no stranger than oneanother they blindly place their trust.
To prevail. To thrive. To succeed! To survive!
Can The Dreamer and The Schemer together tilt the game of life?
A/N - Thank you for giving my little fanfic a try. I originally wrote this chapter last year as a one-shot and forgot it existed, along with some half-written followup chapters. After revisiting it I decided this first chapter was of minimally acceptable quality to upload whereafter I felt compelled to finish the other unfinished chapters too. Hopefully I kept everyone somewhat in character, though I feel as if I fell short in that regard. Honestly I'm not much of a writer; its just an on-off hobby for me.
Again, thanks for reading. All reviews are sincerely appreciated, be they positive, critical, or just telling me my writing sucks, all feedback is welcome. :)