RWBY: Remnants

The Scape-cat - Part 2

The rain continued till mid-morning. The damp dulled my sense of smell, and my eyes were puffy from crying myself to sleep. I sat at the edge of the alley looking out at the street. Most people had come out from their homes and were milling about. A young lady walked past, stopped, walked backwards and knelt in front of me. She was well dressed in a red nylon raincoat, red trainers, and she was carrying a small blue umbrella. Her skin was fair and her eyes a deep brown. Her gaze drew me in, and she smiled sweetly. 'What are you doing here?' she asked.

For a moment I was surprised she even stopped and took notice of me, let alone talk to me. I stuttered my reply, 'I live here.'

'This is no place for someone to live. You must be hungry.' She rummaged in her bag, which I failed to notice upon my first look at her, and pulled out two paper bags marked with the label of La Blanche Bakery and handed them to me. 'I don't normally buy this much,' she laughed. 'My greed got the better of me this time.' She smiled at me. It was like a ray of sunshine after a long period of rain and darkness. I reluctantly looked in the bags and sniffed their contents. Two all butter croissants in one, and something I had never eaten before in the other. I looked up at her, she stuffed her face with a croissant. The crumbs littered her chin and corners of her mouth. She reminded me of someone. The lady rose and dusted her mouth off. 'I shall be going now. The bakery closes at six. If you go in before then they will give you leftovers from the day. The guy there is generous so take all you can carry. And please stay safe.' She winked and skipped away. I was compelled to peer around the corner to watch her walk off. A smile was painted on my stupid face as my stomach growled fiercely.

'I guess I have no choice.' I gobbled down the baked goods then grabbed my bag. Contained within was everything that belonged to me, which also happened to be all the tools I need to do the one thing I was good at. I ran down the street towards the commercial district.

I spent several hours casing the streets seeking out where Byron had set up shop. It was common practice for him to move his base of operations after big heists and after someone gets arrested. Subsequently my departure and the arrest of my best friend and partner I was sure he would have moved, and again after the recent job. I spotted a man in a black suit, red tie and red glasses walking down the street and stop in front of a dust shop. 'From Dust Till Dawn'. The man observed the store at a distance. A cop car drove past, and he seemed to flinch a little. It takes a criminal to know one and I just found one.

The sun had begun its slope into the horizon, its light cast long shadows down the streets and across buildings. I snuck up on the suited man as he crossed by an alleyway. Grabbing him by his head I pulled him in. He tried to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. I smirked. We struggled for a while, and still, no sound was made. He broke free and threw a punch, dodging it I threw one of my own which connected with his jaw. He staggered back, stared intensely at me for a moment and put his hands up. 'Do you know who I am?' I mouthed. He nodded. I deactivated my semblance. 'Good, then you can tell me where Byron is.' I growled.

'I don't know where he is exactly, but I know someone that may know.' He mumbled.

The man transported me to a club near the industrial district. On the outside, it looked like a derelict building. The large entry doors were grey like the exposed concrete they were nested in. The man knocked on the door six times, rhythmically. A shutter slid open to reveal a pair of eyes. 'Who goes there?' it enquired.

'It's Markus. And I got someone with me. Need to see Junior.'

The door slid open slowly. I could see strobe lights and the extravagant glass panelled dance floor. There was low music playing and many of the men also wore the same suit as Markus carrying different things around. All of them were strapped: guns, small blades and other weapons. The atmosphere was tense. I guess that's normal when you work in a hotbed of crime. We walked through the club, various people greeting us and or gawking at me. The DJ in the booth situated far above the bar adorned a large bear head that was rather cute.