Moonlight's Guidance

CH45: Dropping Dusty Depot

Blake Belladonna was literally just chilling in an outdoor cafe. Her only form of disguise was a large black cloak with a hood that she wasn't even wearing. She just looked like tall emo Ruby with a bow. Across from her was the monkey boy.

Blake: What are your thoughts on the White Fang, sun?

The monkey boy was sitting criss cross applesauce, using his tail to drink tea. His expression was overly cheery, a stark contrast to Blake's prominent dead stare.

Sun: Finally, she speaks! It's been, what, two days? And all I've gotten is harsh looks and small talk.

Blake then proceeded to glare at him.

Sun: Like that.

Blake: Answer the question.

Sun gave the question little thought.

Sun: Eh, I don't like em. They give faunas a bad rep. I've always seen them as holier than thou terrorists. Kinda like the KKK, but for faunas, you know?

She blinked a few times from that last comment.

Blake: I was a member of the White Fang.

Sun: What?! Also, we're discussing this in a cafe?

Blake: Actually, I was kind of born into it.

Sun: Okay, guess we are.

Blake: But it's changed when I was a kid. The White Fang was meant to be a sign of peace. A bridge between human and faunas in the ashes of the war.

Sun looked around, making sure that he had an escape exit when a racist comes and judo flips them off a roof. Surprisingly, they were ignored, despite Blake admitting to being a terrorist in a mcfucking cafe.

'That's just lazy writing.'

Blake: Then, it changed. I changed. For a while, I was a criminal under them. I thought that it furthered a cause. Now I realize that the only cause I was furthering was revenge violence.

Sun was still bewildered by everything. Then he stood up and sipped his tea by the tail.

Sun: You're going to have to run all of that back by me again. Not here though. Come on, I know a spot.

He grabbed her hand and led her out of the cafe.

-Meanwhile-

Finally, we're back to the actual main characters.

Neopolitan and Y/n had been trying to keep a low profile. After all, it isn't every day you meet highly ranked members of the furry mafia. The two were currently at the warehouse. While Y/n practiced with different weapons, Neo was working away at a laptop.

Y/n: How's that dust interception going?

Neo gave him a thumbs up as a response. You remember that hard drive that she stole from their first dust store bust? Well, turns out that those lazy dipshits at the SDC still hadn't cut off their client despite him being mugged and all of their assets being stolen. Because of this, Roman suggested that we call in as much dust as he's entitled to and steal it. In the back of Neo's head, she couldn't help but feel a little bit bad about how bad this guy's life is going.

Y/n walked over to his victorian cloak, which he had removed and placed to the side. He reached into one of it's many pockets and pulled out a whip. Neo coughed loudly out of shock.

'Where the hell did that come from?'

Y/n: Pockets for days.