Holy shit, this is boring and asinine.

Inside Junior's Club, you stand by the bar in your complimentary gang uniform. All black everything suit with a red tie, red tinted glasses, and black hat. All while leaning against the bar counter with a bottle of cider in hand.

And you are bored out of your gourd.

It has been almost a week since your initiation, and you have done fuck all in the gang since then. Matter of fact, there doesn't seem to be much to do at all. From what you've gathered from Pen and the other members, the Xiong Family has been going to shit ever since Xiong senior kicked the bucket years ago. Members dropping their flags, other gangs stepping up, and the political strings they've had are all snipped. All thanks to some punk named Roman.

Safe to say, you're starting to regret not going through with the hobo idea.

With a bored sigh, you take another swig as you stare off into space through your tinted glasses. The sound of shitty dubstep violates your innocent ears as over two dozen patrons flail around drunkenly on the dance floor.

Melanie: Sad to say, this is the most lively this place gets.

Tilting your head to the side, you spot the bouncer sisters of the club, the Malachite twins, Melanie and Milan-- Matil-- Malt-- Milk--.... Mel and Mil heading your way. The first, wearing a white dress, leans on the counter next to you, a less intense bored expression on her blue eye shadow face. While the second, in red, sits on a stool next to her as she sips on what appears to be a cran citrus mocktini with a lemon wedge.

My God, you're so bored, you're naming off every drink you spot. Quick, engage in conversation!

(Y/n): And when was the last time it was more lively than this?

Melanie: Five years ago.

(Y/n): Monty above and Kerry below!

Melanie: Yeah. If we had known it would be this dead over time, my sister and I would've stayed in Mistral.

Miltia: The drinks are good, though.

You silently agree with a swig from your cider. As you decide to change things up by looking at a different space of empty air, you spot some of your fellow goons heading to the backrooms. One of them spots you and waves you over. Taking the hint, you finish your drink and turn to the twins.

(Y/n): Well, as short and depressing as this conversation was, I gotta go. Try not to have too much fun, you party animals.

Taking your leave, you walk across the building and arrive to the backrooms with a dozen other goons. From the look of things, they're all congregating to a billboard occupied by Junior. After some side stepping and elbowing your way through, you come across Pen and start a little conversation.

(Y/n): So, what's up?

Pen: Apparently the boss got a tip on a huge score. We're just waiting to hear the plan.

Looking over to Junior, he pins a picture of a warehouse up directly in the middle of a bunch of other papers and red string. All of which you are certain is for show. As he finishes with the photo, Junior turns around to face you all.

Junior: Alright, we're finally catching a break. One of my contacts at the docks caught wind of a Dust shipment just sitting in a warehouse, disguised as a shipment of toilet paper. If we hit at midnight, we can go in and swipe'em for ourselves before anyone notices.

...... And that's about it. He probably took ten minutes to set this whole board up, just to tell you in ten seconds to do something. Fuck it, A for presentation. If you're going to wait a few hours before you leave, might as well get two or three bottles through your liver.

[Several hours later]

The fucked up moon hangs high and bright in the night sky as several Xiong vehicles drive towards the city docks. Taking backroads and less populated streets to remain unnoticed. Among one of the cars, you sit in the back with a fellow goon as you look out the window with a bored expression. Even the idea of stealing the Dust feels boring. Go in, pick up, get out. Not like with the gas station, where some violence was used. That was fun.... This might have awoken something in you that society might not appreciate later on.

Driver: Almost there. Get ready.

As the deiver says that, the other two people in the car start checking their gear. You know, just in case this won't be a simple pick up. Meanwhile, you pull out the dumbass axe you were given. Apparently there's a gun shortage or something. You look over the chicken scratch engraved on the side. Apparently meaning the family name. Anyway, a minute of driving later, you all arrive at the docks.

It's dark as hell out, and what few floods lights there are among the buildings barely do shit. Thank God someone brought flashlights. A few minutes later, we arrive outside the warehouse we've been looking for. A big 13 plastered on the giant double doors. You get the strange feeling that this might be a reference, but you forgo that thought as you help with opening the doors. Heavy chains keep the the doors shut tight, but those were dealt with with bolt cutters.

The absolute pitch black interior of the warehouse makes the dark night outside look like mid morning. Again, thank God for flashlights. One of the flashlight guys goes off to find the light switch, while the rest of you start looking for the Dust.

Two other goons and yourself approach a wooden crate, everyone but you with crowbars at the ready. They easily pry the top off, leaving you to quickly shove it. Revealing to you...... actual toilet paper.

(Y/n): The fuck?

Confused, you start to grab the toilet paper and toss it out. Maybe the Dust is hidden underneath. The other two catch on and help you out. Several roles of butt napkins later, and you all arrive at the wooden bottom of the crate. Not a hint of Dust to be found. Now annoyed, you throw your hands up in frustration as you walk away. From the sound of the other goons around the warehouse, you're not the only one at a loss.

Wondering if you came to the wrong building, you notice a light source through an office far off. Probably the guy still looking for the lights. That same light suddenly spazzes out before going completely dark. This immediately catches your full attention as you wonder if the guy tripped, or something.

As you imagine the guy possibly eating shit, your train of thought comes to a grinding halt as the warehouse is suddenly filled with gunshots and shouting. Before you could spring into action with your axe, the lights to the building quickly come on, blinding you momentarily in a daze.

And that's all it took.

Pain immediately shoots throughout your abdomen as you are shot in the stomach. More pain follows as you take another in the thigh. This causes you to topple over as you stain the concrete floor with your blood.

While you writhe in pain, your eyes soon adjust to the light, giving you the chance to bare witness to an absolute slaughter. What was about twenty Xiong members is brought down to zero in just a few seconds. The whole scene orchestrated by people in white vests, black hoodies, and VERY familiar masks. Reminding you of the three dudes in the alley when you first met Pen. What were they called? Something about a pale tooth?

As the quote unquote fighting dies down, you hear the faint sounds of pained groans from those that weren't killed immediately. Which were soon followed with the occasional gun shot. Then silence. This goes on a few more times until the silence in between becomes downright deafening. All the while, you hear one of them just off in the distance talk.

WhiteFang1: Haha! They actually bought Tuscany's bogus info!

You don't know who this Tuscany guy is, but whatever time you have left right now, you'll curse his name to hell.

Your thoughts are interrupted as one of the masked goons walks by and sees you're still alive. A skinny prick with what looks like fish fins poking out from where his ears should be. With gun in hand, he takes a few steps towards me before taking aim.

???: No! That one's mine.

Another one of the fursonas comes walking up like they have a pair that clank. The closer they get, the more they look familiar.... Like a week ago familiar. As you cough up blood, it dawns on you who it is. That rabbit guy from the alley!

Even when he wears that stupid eye mask, you can definitely feel the glare he's giving you.

Fuck it, if you're gonna die, might as well be a dick about it.

(Y/n): *cough* Well, I was wondering where you scampered off to. How're the other two doing?

Not a word. I guess if your enemy was bleeding to death, you wouldn't care what they said either. Meanwhile, Rabbit reaches behind his back and pulls out a gun. Looks like this his happening. He wastes no time in cocking it and aiming at your head.

Rabbit: Human trash.

(Y/n): FUCK YOOOOOOOOoooorrr...

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Melanie: Five years ago.

The bouncer's voice catches you off guard as you're suddenly back at Junior's club, shitty dubstep violating your ears again. Cider in hand, you frantically look over your body, only to find not a scratch or bullet hole on you.

(Y/n): What the hell?

Melanie: Yeah. If we had known it would be this dead over time, my sister and I would've stayed in Mistral.

Miltia: The drinks are good, though.

You snap your attention to the twins in confusion. White one leaning on the bar counter, while the red one is in a stool sipping on a mocktini. More confused, you slowly turn your head away until you spot something else familiar in the corner of your eye. A group of goons going to the backrooms, one of them waving you over.....

(Y/n):.... I, uh... I gotta go.

You leave your unfinished cider on the counter and just walk over to the group. The next few minutes later can only be described as the scariest sense of déjà vu, because you have literally been through all of this hours ago... At least what YOU perceive to be hours ago.

Pen explaining what's up, Junior fucking with the board, then explaining about stealing Dust. Word for word, scene for fucking scene.

As you try not to have a panic attack from this bizarre fuckery, you suddenly have a thought as the crowd disperses.

Junior: 'One of my contacts at the docks caught wind of a Dust shipment just sitting in a warehouse, disguised as a shipment of toilet paper.'

WhiteFang1: 'They actually bought Tuscany's bogus info!'

(Y/n):....... Huh.

You make your way over to Junior as he starts taking down his board.

(Y/n): Hey, boss, got a minute?

Junior: Hm? Oh yeah, what's up?

(Y/n): I just have a few questions about this operation. Who did you get this Dust lead from again?

Junior: Eh, just a faunus that owes me, after his dad couldn't pay his tab, named Tuscany.

(Y/n): The hell's a faun--Never mind. And, you said he worked at the docks?

(3rd p.o.v.)

Inside the front office of the docks, just as the sun begins to set, a young crow faunus by the name of Tuscany clocks out of his shift as he prepares to go home. If he's lucky, his dad would've remembered to take his medicine before he returns. As he makes his way down the sidewalk, he looks back to the rows of warehouses and spots number thirteen. He let's out a sigh as he can only imagine what will happen tonight. If this goes perfectly, his family will finally be out of the Xiong Family's debt. Still--

(Y/n): Um. Excuse me, sir?

Tuscany's train of thought is interrupted as he sees a teen walk up to him. Barely a few years younger than he is. The boy wears a dull gray hoodie and blue track pants as he approaches.

Tuscany: Yeah?

The faunus looks at the stranger with a cautious eye. Not entirely trusting humans nowadays. However, the look of worry on the boy's face makes him somewhat curious to what he has to say.

(Y/n): I'm trying to look for Tuscany. Something happened to his father.

The mention of his father leaves Tuscany in a worried state. Now sporting a concerned expression.

Tuscany: What?! Y-yeah, that's me! What happened to my dad?

(Y/n): You're Tuscany? Ok, good.

The teen's eyes suddenly turn from concern to malice as he swiftly pulls out a gun and pushes the barrel into Tuscany's stomach.

(Y/n): You mind if I have a word with you?

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