Reject Normalcy. Embrace Violence. (RWBY×bullied depressed reader turned Badass)

Chapter 7: The game changer

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.