Hey, guys, this is my first fanfic in this sight. I've tried to write before but abandoned the other stories for lack of a plot and solid storyboard. Reviews are greatly appreciated and I hope you find some enjoyment from my crappy writing :P

...At the Bar

...

After the resolutions of new year's day fade off into the corners of the mind, people fall back to doing the same old routine as the year before. Those who live normally finally realize the fruitlessness of their efforts of trying to change their lives based off of a day of drunken promises fall into a depression to where alcohol is used as a medium to submerge their problems. Individuals blessed with auras also tend to fall into the embrace of the spirits of debauchery, but some have the ability to use that depression and mold it into something, oh, productive to say the best: relentless hunting, burying themselves in work, lying, cheating, stealing, killing, all to make sure to outrun the grips of their sadness, in other words...

...Survive.

Roman Torchwick considered himself a survivor above all his other recognizable traits (besides having devilishly handsome looks) and took pride in the position in society he placed himself in. He was recognized well throughout the underground network of Remnant as a kingpin who specializes in many 'honorable' trades: loan shark, protection rackets, drug trade, gambling, and most of all, the best thief in all of the four kingdoms; life was good for Roman Torchwick.

The Tinderbox Bar was currently an asset owned by Torchwick (under a fake alias of course) after winning it in a poker game a while back. The crowd was quite busy in the last months of winter, with valentine's day heartbreaks still fresh in people's minds, the bar industry seemed to thrive off people throwing money at the bartenders to hurry up so they could drown their sorrows faster.

Roman wanted to laugh.

All this wasted effort and talent exhausted at the tips of alcohol and other intoxicants. The talent that he was currently recruiting for the scary and crazy- not that anyone heard it from him- fire manipulator Cinder Fall. The talent was being used to expand his heisting operation to accommodate trying to target an entire empire's dust reserves. The task to raid almost all of Remnant required quite a bit more manpower than what Roman currently had at his disposal, and now his crew numbered about 327 more than it had originally been, the last recruit being picked up about a couple of minutes ago. Roman didn't agree with, or even know, the details of Cinder's cause, but when someone was offering a sum of Lien THAT big you couldn't help but feel a bit devoted to their cause. He had cut all investment spending into his other operations and devoted all of his gang's efforts toward preparing for this global scale heist, after all, Roman wasn't one to sit idly with his thumb up his ass while opportunity sat knocking at his doorstep.

"Barkeep, can I get that drink any faster!" Roman barked.

Knowing better than to keep his boss waiting, the bartender dropped whatever customers drink he was presently making to pour scotch glass into Romans empty cup before Roman could sneer at him for taking so long. His job or life, for that matter, was on the line ya know.

Roman took a sip from his glass, savoring the smoky taste that lingered in his mouth along with the burn of the alcohol running down his throat before he set the glass back down on the table, all the while thinking upon his plans for the future dust heists that were to be held.

Wonder if that bitch Cinder will pull that stick out her ass and be happy my men are ready to be sent out. The last update he sent out to her ended up with him having to make a new suit because his progress "wasn't moving fast enough." Please, does that skank even know how hard it is to rob a city of its dust stores, and she wants me to rob a whole NATION! Not that Roman wasn't happy about the fame he was gonna gain from this stunt, he just doesn't appreciate spoiled brats not having more reasonable demands.

Before Roman could reach the scotch in his cup to his lips for another sip the door opened to the bar. Not that it was slammed open or anything, it's just one of those things for everyone at the bar to stop what they were doing to silently judge the person walking into this 'fine' establishment at this time at night. However, he didn't think anyone would expect a girl like THAT to walk in the place.

Roman was taken aback by the female who stood in the entrance shaking out her parasol of the droplets that had formed on this stormy day in a town of Vacuo. Her cascading hair was parted in the middle with one side brown and the other white. She was dressed in a white jacket with a brown corset underneath, her pants were also brown with a pair of laced white boots, all completed with the pink frilly parasol. Her entire outfit looked like a flavor of Ice cream usually in between two chocolate cookies, like a sandwich. Her stature was easily under 5 ft, even with the heeled boots, compared to even the shortest guys at the bar. He visualized her as a street mouse in an alley of street cats, which was pretty reasonable considering the hungry stares she was getting from most of the patrons she walked past on her way to the counter. She was, in a word, petite.

To Roman though, his attention wasn't on her height, or the beads just above her modest cleavage, or the way her corset exposed her hips to gazing eyes, or even her strange, soft colored wardrobe, no the only thing Roman saw when she waltzed into his bar was her two-tone eyes. Pink and Brown could never hope to pop this much even on a rich girl in a public school they were simply so stunning. There was something else Roman thought, as he looked deeper, into the Chocolate and Strawberry pools on this doll-like girl, despite their animated quality those eyes spoke that this girl was anything like her doll-like exterior. They held a strength and confidence he had not seen even on the strongest of his henchmen and the way they quickly dodged around the room, taking in each and every face she saw like a nevermore would spot its prey, a superiority lived in those eyes and the owner of them knew it. Looking into those eyes felt like every moment Roman looked into the mirror preparing his image for the day, those eyes with that absurd almost clothing made stand out, made her different, made her...

...Unique

If Roman's interest wasn't already high it increased tenfold with that thought. He, unlike most in his line of work, preferred to stand out from the rest. It was why he was one of the few men that applied eyeliner daily. He prides himself on walking into another heist or protection racket and his victims being able to recognize he meant business. As a practice of drawing attention to himself, he found himself drawn to those who also made themselves visible to any eye. It usually meant they had something to show for as well.

He was so caught up in his own mind that he almost didn't notice when her eyes came up to meet his. Roman managed to keep his shock hidden as she kept gaze on him. His smirk never left his face as his visible eye searched deeper within those eyes only to find one new thing that he hadn't seen before,

Amusement.

As if she had noticed him studying her, the slight downturn of her lips came up ever so slightly on one side, planting on her face a smirk before she did something that surprised Roman...

...did she just wink?

The quick movement of her eyelid was what had Roman reinvest his effort into finding out just who this girl was and why she had come into his bar looking the way she did, after all, anyone who dresses that boldly is just asking to be noticed. His green eyes narrowed and his face put on Cheshire smile as another thought of this girl that had walked into his bar took his mind again.

I think I like this girl.

The girl in question replaced the smirk on her lips with the indifferent mask that she just had on when she arrived. The girl then sat on an open bar stool and hung her folded parasol on the edge of the bar before waving her hand to call the bartender. The bartender already has observed the girls entrance, he walked over to help the girl with what she wanted.

"Anything I can get for you tonight, Miss." The female reached into her coat pocket and removed a pink pencil and notepad. She wrote quickly on the paper before ripping it out of the binding and handing it to the intrigued bartender. He looked over the contents of the note, "Yeah I can whip something like that right up," he said while looking back up to the girl, "but I'm going to have to see some ID first."

The girl then placed the notepad and pencil back into her pocket with one hand while pulling out a pink wallet and chain from her pants with the other. She took out a card before presenting its face to the man behind the bar. He leaned in for a closer look, then nodded once with raised eyebrows, "Looks like everything checks out; I'll get on that drink right away."

Roman was quite surprised that her ID was valid to the bartender and not a fake, she did look like a student fresh out of Mistral academy. Normally any student that did get there hands on a fake ID was quickly thrown out. One, because one of Roman's men probably gave the kid the ID, and two, he gave his bartenders a course on how to identify fake ones. Even though Roman already had looser morals on stealing and killing, he had a front to put up on his bar so no suspicion would be drawn that any sort of operation was being run out of it, and any word that they handed out alcohol to kids would put it on the radar faster than a wandering Boarbatusk. Roman didn't need that attention unless it was going to be on him directly.

While Roman pondered on the integrity of his operation's plans the bartender finished up the drink for the tricolor girl, "One Chocolate Covered Strawberry." He placed the pink and brown concoction in front of her on a napkin before garnishing the edge of the glass with a chocolate covered strawberry. The girl nodded a thank you and the man went about his business filling empty glasses and pouring new drinks.

As the girl took the sweet drink up to her pink lips, she was interiors by a voice from behind her.

"What's a cute little thing like you doing around here?" The slurred speech pulled Roman back to the bar and toward the slob of a man now behind the where the girl was currently situated. Roman tensed up, but remained seated, ready to jump into the lady's rescue if need be. Just because he was an asshole who would take candy from a baby didn't mean he didn't carry some code of chivalry. He prided himself on being a gentleman as well as a selfish, stealing prick.

The girl placed down her drink slowly pivoted on her stool to face the man who was little more than a foot too close to her. She bent her once noticeable frown into a sickeningly fake, sweet smile and tilted her head at the greasy man in front of her. "I don't see much of your type atta place like this", the girl visibly recoiled at the smell of the man's breath, "Only ladies pretty as you hangin around 'ere got some serious daddy issues. Why don't you let me take you back to my place and I'll let you have a seat on daddy's lap." The girl, almost as if she didn't quite grasp the idea of the situation, changed her expression to one of innocent contemplation and tilted her head to the other side exaggeratedly before refusing him with a shake of her head, frown returning, and turning back around to her drink.

"Cmon baby, Don't be like that." The man went to place a hand on her shoulder. "I promise I'll be gentle." If his hand reached her shoulder, Roman couldn't tell you because she had his hand on his middle finger faster than he could see. As she bent it at an unnatural angle against his wrist, she reached calmly with her free hand and brought her drink to her lips where she finally took her much-awaited sip. The mans wailing, still going on, was ceased as she released it and placed her hand on the man's head before showing the man's face just how hard a wooden bar was. She slowly placed her glass down and pulled out a pink scroll from her pocket, starting to check the message she had received.

Roman's eyes went wide at her display of power on this poor excuse for a man, and he started to chuckle as many of the men at the bar started to as well. Roman knew he had to do something to get to know this girl, from her display over the past couple of seconds he began to rethink his opinion on the girl, I don't want her for my plans...I need her. His smirk returned to his face as he sat up, retrieved his cane and began to strut over to her place across the bar.

The man currently on the floor groaned and reached up to his sore face with his hand. When he pulled his hand away to look at it, there was a good amount of blood on his face and from what he felt with his tongue his good tooth was missing. Rage filled the man as he quickly stood up, reaching into his back pocket and bringing out a switchblade. "You... BITCH!" He moved to attack her but only managed to face plant back on the ground as his feet were tripped up by a white curved handle. He looked up to see just who was willing to prevent him from getting his revenge, but felt it be replaced by fear as he looked up into a single green eye, "Roman..."

"Well, Kelly. Looks like you're comfortable with your place on the floor, can't say I've seen a position that suits you more than where you are now. Besides rotting away at my bar, that is." Others chuckling and making wolf whistles at the more feminine name of the man. Roman knelt down, leaning on his cane "Now tell me what exactly did you plan to do with that knife there."

"Uhh... I was...was...um...she...I..." he mumbled incoherently.

"It's called a rhetorical question, dumbass." Roman spat. "Maybe if you spent as much time learning something as you do pissing out brain cells you could keep your IQ from getting any lower."

Sitting up on his knees, the man brought his hands together, begging, "Please, Roman, I'm sorry I really am. I didn't know she was one of your girls."

She wasn't one of his girls, but Roman wasn't gonna let him know that. He brought the man up by his collar and brought him up as roman stood. He looked right at the drunk's face ignoring the foul stench that rose from the man and narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Get the fuck out of my bar", Roman growled deeply throwing the man in the direction of the door. The man didn't need another warning as he scrambled up and bolted out the door with a whimper. Roman noticed he was receiving stares from numerous people around the bar, "What are you all looking at!" The people quickly returned to their own business, not wanting to invoke any trouble from Roman. He turned his attention back to the bar with a humph and found him still being observed by one person.

The girl had watched the small confrontation she had started wrap up and now knew this was the guy her informer had told her about. She was told this man could get her a job specific to her talents, the only thing she needed was for the guy to recognize she was valuable. If the way he was looking at her was an indication of his interest, then she was confident she had succeeded. She fluttered her fingers in a cute wave at the sharply dressed man before giving him another wink like the one when she walked in.

Roman felt his cockiness rise with the little wave and his smirk appeared on his face tenfold. He proceeded to bounce his cane against the floor to catch it in the middle when it was mid-air, well, that what he planned to do. He positioned his hand improperly so he only managed to knock his cane around in the air and fumbled to get a good grip on it before it fell back down, needless to say, he looked like quite the klutz. The girl had been the one observing the whole thing began to giggle quietly into her hand at his failed display of adeptness with his weapon. Smooth Roman, real smooth. Roman shook off the embarrassment and began to walk over to the lady at the bar who had turned her attention back to her drink.

She pretended not to notice the man situating himself in the seat next to her as she lifted the glass for another sip. Curiosity proved too strong, and she slowly turned her head, glass still on her lips, to the ginger-haired man who was leaning on his arm waiting for her attention. "You're quite the troublemaker aren't you", he inquired.

The girl shrugged her shoulders cutely.

"Ok, you can cut the cute crap. I already know you not here for just a fruity drink and conversation", he gestured to the man's tooth on the bar, "and you obviously have the skills to pay the bills, so to speak."

The girl smirked and turned away from the gangster to take another sip from her now almost empty glass.

"Don't talk much do you", Roman scrutinized. He shrugged it off though and reached into his jacket for his favorite lighter, placing it on the counter, "Can't say I blame you. I wouldn't want to communicate with strangers either," he pulled out a cigar from his chest pocket and a silver cutter, "but when you're in a line of work like mine, you don't really get much of a choice." The girl turned her attention back to the man who was currently placing a cigar in his mouth and his cutter back in his pocket. "My name, Miss, is Roman Torchwick. I want to offer you a chance to be involved in a few... plans I have coming up," he reached for his lighter on the counter, "What do you say, interested?" His hand search around for the lighter that was no more on the counter, but in the girl's hands. She flicked the lighter open and on before bringing the flame to the expensive cigar in Roman's lips. He puffed a couple of times as the flame reached the cigar and pulled away as he was satisfied with the way it burned. He looked into her mischievous eyes, her answer having been carried across perfectly.

He puffed out a generous cloud of smoke into the air above them before reaching the girl's eyes yet again. "I'm glad an agreement could be worked out between us," he remarked, "but I would prefer to know the name of someone I have just recruited." The girl smirked before grabbing her umbrella and hopping off the bar stool to walk out the door. Roman observed the way her body moved as she made her way to the door and out into the now drizzling outside night, parasol fully extended.

A little peeved he couldn't get a name out of the mystery girl, he grunted and turned to his lighter that was set on the counter to grab it, until something else grabbed his interest. "Should I send her tab to you sir?" The barkeep asked the smirking man.

"Of course, James. And also send someone to make sure that scum, Kelly, learns to keep his hands to himself." Roman took his lighter into his pocket and lifted the folded napkin underneath it so he could get a better look. He took a mental picture of the number on the paper as well as a neatly cursive name written underneath it.

Neo is it...

He looked at the door the girl by the name of Neo just walked out of, and another thought crossed his mind that made him chuckle as he blew another cloud of smoke.

...I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.