Chapter 7: Walkie - Talkie - Plushie

They were being followed, The Courier knew. He'd wager a week's supply of Turbo that it was someone from Beacon on their trail, undoubtedly sent by Ozpin in order to ensure his and Pyrrha's safe return to the school after their… gallivanting… was finished. Those people just didn't get it, did they? A courier was his reputation. If one was not trustworthy, they would not be a courier in the first place. But then again, back home one's throat would be slit from ear to ear by one's best friend for half a bottle of clean water and some pork 'n beans. And it was doubly insulting, because apparently they could not spare anyone even half-decent at following people. Well, no matter. It was, after all, Ozpin's prerogative to protect his investments, meager as they were.

"Excuse me, where are we going?"

Unerringly polite, Pyrrha Nikos was the person officially assigned to look after him as he walked around the city of Vale, taking in the sights. The place was so full of life and… optimism? Or was it carelessness? Just a train ride away was a forest full of cuddly monstrosities from hell, patiently waiting to murder some unsuspecting citizen in a particularly grisly way. And yet, there was no trace of the nervous trepidation that hung like a mantle around, say, Sloan. Instead, there were shops with no guards, cafes where young couples happily chatted their time away and miles and miles of wide, rubble-clear streets where all sizes of operational vehicles moved about in dazzling displays of chromed parts, fancy paintwork and infernal bouts of annoying noise. Mayhaps New Vegas looked like this before the war.

A polite tap on the shoulder almost had him reach for Maria, crudely snapping him from the reverie. Miss Nikos was looking at him inquisitively.

"My apologies, I was spacing out a little. What were you saying?"

A spark of annoyance glittered and was momentarily snuffed in her green eyes. Apparently his companion was not entirely too happy with her task. Well, The Courier himself was not all that elated, either. The signs that proudly said "NO SMOKING" were all over the blasted city. And beneath this horrid phrase, unobtrusively, sat another clump of abominable words - "The offender will be fined." His annoyance aside, he was making a lady feel neglected, and he would not have that.

"I asked where we were going, mister."

Ah, that's what it was. Come to think of it, he'd never explained the actual purpose of this lovely outing to the girl, had he?

"We are going where the money is."

And there it was, an almost imperceptible narrowing of the eyes. The Courier decided to elaborate.

"You see, some time ago Professor Goodwitch accosted me on accounts of smoking and drinking on the grounds. She was very cross about it, too. I was ruining the image of Beacon, she said, I was setting bad example. That was just after you and I exchanged introductions. A quite memorable reprimand on her part."

He started walking again and Pyrrha fell in line beside him. The girl was listening intently, waiting for him to continue.

"Exactly a week later a pair of you schoolmates approached me, with the same complaint - I was breaking school regulations. You know them, I believe - Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee. Miss Schnee really took exception to my after-hours pastime, so I offered her a deal - she'd give me some money to invest in whatever I deemed suitable in order to repair the abysmal state of my finances, after which she'd be reimbursed, and quite handsomely."

"Surely that's not all, mister."

"How observant of you, Miss Nikos. No, that was not all. In addition to acquiring… and providing… some pocket money, I'd relieve Miss Schnee of my undesired presence in favor of getting drunk elsewhere - a most reasonable offer, I think."

The Courier reached for his pocket, but stopped himself. It wouldn't do for him to lose his few lien to a fine of all things. The hand fell limply and his teeth clenched. That was what happened when those in charge had nothing better to do with their time. The choker concealed the disappointment in his voice and he continued the story, the girl next to him looking more and more disbelieving by the word.

"As blasted luck would have it, though, your sparring supervisor, the rigidly good witch, happened to be close. Having overheard my business proposal, she saw fit to intervene before I could close the deal and bring me before Ozpin, where I was charged with "shaking down a student for money", if you'll believe it. So I offered Ozpin the same - he'd loan me some money to help me get back on my feet and in exchange I would not further ruin his school's prestige by drinking and smoking in places where I could be seen. In addition, I'd return the loan with three hundred percent interest or I'd go without wages for three months."

An incredulous shake of her red mane was the only reaction Pyrrha showed to this outlandish tale.

"So you've been saddled with the dubious honor of being my leash, the insurance that I will keep my word to our good headmaster. That said, I'd suggest we get to business. We have much to cover today. Chop-chop!"

And so they kept walking the streets of Vale, a shadow nimbly hounding their steps.

It had been a few hours already and Pyrrha, despite her harsh training and physical conditioning, was starting to feel pain in her legs... and waist… and back. The main reason for said pain was still happily strolling beside her with that confident, almost arrogant gait she'd come to associate with him. As luck would have it, though, her charge slowed the pace down a bit and tilted his head in an unbridled display of curiosity. What was the catalyst for such unusual behavior? Apparently, "Ye Ole Dust Shoppe" had been robbed recently, so a pair of officers were standing watch and happily chatting away.

"Don't you find it strange?" One asked airily, the dull gaze he sported disinterestedly scanning the puffy clouds in the sky above Vale. "A Dust shop in downtown Vale, not a single speck of Dust left in it, but the lien still there, untouched."

"Sure I do. What I also find strange is the fact that you seem more interested in chatting away instead of guarding the place. Shut up and do your job."

"I am so not getting paid enough to deal with this." With a sigh the chatty cop returned to the arduous task of guarding the door. Pyrrha, following the man's example, turned her attention to her own assignment… who seemed quite taken with one particular poster on an otherwise inconspicuous notice board.

"What do you think, Miss Nikos? Shall we enter?"

Well, now. There was an interesting offer, she had to admit. The competitive spirit of Pyrrha Nikos was not one that easily relented, once roused. A pair of green eyes scanned the poster that proudly proclaimed:

"Bullet of truth:

Qualification Entry: 250 lien

Prizes are as follows:

1st place: 4000 lien

2nd place: 2000 lien

3rd place: 1000 lien

Special prize: 12 magazines of SDC special rounds"

Below was written the contact information and the address of the place where the event was to occur. Also, if one managed to get into the first three, they automatically qualified for the next tournament of the series - a series that culminated in the "Blazing Glories" marksmanship competition - one of the most popular contests in the kingdoms.

"Yes, I'd like that very much." Pyrrha was almost giddy at the prospect of actually measuring her skills against this man, so strange and puzzling. Perhaps she could persuade Ren and Ruby to enlist, too. That would be…

"Groovy. Well, Miss Nikos, let's not just stand around. There are still places to see, fun to be had." Whistling his favorite tune, her charge started walking down the street.

And just when she thought that she'd caught some small reprieve. This man was unbelievable.

'Well, I'll be damned,' The Courier thought with amazement. 'This is an actual, working high wheel. Is this what they called an amusement park?'

Well, he supposed that Miss Nikos really needed some relaxation after this harrowing day of walking around the city. Every possible bit of info he'd wrung from her with the merciless, methodical single-mindedness of a Legion interrogattion specialist was one more reason to let her unwind a little. The grin on his face widened a bit at the thought of their shadow, the poor sod. Pyrrha was tired enough, but the sad bastard that was saddled with following them… why, he'd be even worse off. And the day was not yet done, not by a long shot, oh no.

Taking the appropriate turn for his new desired destination, he almost reached for his pocket again. Well, he just needed to find a concealed enough place and he could finally, finally, have a cigarette. It was only an offence if he got caught, after all. The girl beside him was almost dragging her feet at this point, but the destination was now close, so he turned to his companion.

"Miss Nikos, why don't you sit at that lovely stall and get yourself something to eat or drink? You must be exhausted. I will have a look around and return shortly. Do not worry, I have no intention of running" Tipping his hat, The Courier smilingly lost himself in the crowd. First order of business - find some raffle or something. After all, some extra change never hurt, right?

Making his way through a crowd of party people and couples in love, his trained ear caught an interesting exchange.

"Oh, Peter, it was just so close! You could have caught it with the next shot, I just know it!"

"Well," A rather disinterested voice responded. "If you say so. I just can't see what it is that fascinates you in those things. They are just plushies, for Remnant's sake."

This Peter guy had no appreciation for a woman's heart, not at all… and come to think of it, neither did The Courier. But a small voice in the back of his head, one he had come to loathe, urged him forward. It sang and screeched at him to go and find out what this girl was talking about… and so he did.

"Hello." He said, politely tipping his hat in greeting. The couple, as expected, was stupefied. Who could blame them?

"My apologies," He went on, unperturbed by the stares."But I overheard your conversation. Tell me, miss, what was the thing that your friend was unable to get? And more importantly, where do I go to get it?"

Mutely pointing him to the location of the veritable bounty, the pair made a very hasty exit and fled the scene. Just what did they expect? When you have your throat slit, you can't be very picky about your choices in communication. Heaving a heavy sigh and mournfully shaking his head, The Courier followed the trail until, at last, he arrived at his destination. And dear God, was it glorious! It was almost a shooting range, complete with targets, weaponry and a cheerful person that sat near an impressive collection of teddy beasts of varying sizes. Making his way to the proprietor, he extended his greeting.

"Hello," He said. "A friend of mine told me that your establishment is the place to go if I wanted a plushie. Have I been misinformed?"

"No, not at all, sir." The girl behind the counter, a blonde faunus of the feline variety said proudly. "We have everything here." Her forefinger pointed a massive gathering of life-sized toys - a pair of beowolves, an ursa-major and a Boarbatusk, ominously sitting in a corner, cuddled together.

"This is most fortuitous." The Courier said, head tilted musingly. "What do I do to get those?"

"Y-You mean all of them?"

"Yes, I mean all of them."

Wordlessly, the girl pointed at the farthest target - a pendulum with four bright-red spots on it.

"All of those, then?"

"Yes."

"Am I allowed trial shots?"

"No. If you were, then half the huntsmen in the city would be able to get at least two of those toys. And they are expensive."

Well, he should have guessed. Taking the provided rifle, The Courier remembered one more thing.

"Tell me," He said. "Would you happen to know any lottery places? Raffles and such? I'd really like to try my hand at those, too."

Putting the weapon to his cheek, he fired a shot and one of the dots turned blue.

"I am not from around here, you see."

Another shot and another of the dots changed color. The pendulum started swaying a bit more quickly. Ah, so that was their gimmick. Okay, Dr. Usanagi was a few stiff drinks due, it would seem. With two more shots in quick succession the pendulum stopped and a neon green "Winner" sign lit up the range. The girl was shocked.

"If you don't mind, I will collect my winnings. And what about that raffle? I am anxious to see it, so would you mind?"

Going up to the toys, he tapped a few buttons on the trusty Pip-Boy and the plushies disappeared in blue light. Ah, he so did love customization and especially anything that matched his eyes. Effin' cool display. Leaving the stupefied proprietor behind, he made his way to the big high wheel. Well, if he was lucky, maybe he'd get some sort of vehicle out of this shit. After all, you don't play high-stakes poker with Grimm plushies.