NF33

Roman's lips peeled back in anger. He couldn't believe it, out of all the people… could those animals do noting right? With a growl, he stepped out of reach of the mad fool, turned and strode back to the controls. "I can't believe this," he said. "Really, I can't. I give those stupid beasts one task, and not even a very difficult one." He turned back to the huntsman, who writhed and struggled on the floor. One hand reached out towards him, but he clamped his foot over it. "Look at you, kid. You're no better than an animal yourself… how is it possible that so many people couldn't stop you?"

"Stop… you…" the overdosed idiot mumbled.

"Stop me, yes, I've heard it all before, believe me." Roman waved a hand dismissively. "Trust me, kid - better men than you have tried. Honestly, it's starting to get old. And do you know what else is getting old?" Roman leaned forward, to slowly crush the man's fingers beneath his heel. To his displeasure, the idiot didn't scream. Hell, he was probably so high, he couldn't even perceive it. Tch, there went the worth of his lines. "You," Roman sighed, aware his word play was lost on his audience, "You're getting old. You and your dogged refusal to lay down and die."

Like a wild animal, the blonde leapt to his feet and surged forwards, no regard for pain or injury, or how his fingers broke beneath his foot. All that was in those eyes was murder, a primal desire to kill.

Roman rolled his eyes at the stupidity of it all. Berserk rage might be all well and good, but it didn't leave one with much in the way of skill or ability. He slipped past the fist and buried his own in the brat's stomach. Whether he felt the pain or not, it forced the air from his lungs and left him open. Roman stepped up inside his guard and snapped his cane into the opponent's jaw. The huntsman dropped like a sack of vegetables.

"What is it that separates us from the animals?" Roman taunted as he stepped around the downed boy. "It's our intelligence, our minds… but once you lose that, what are we?" A hand lashed out to try and grip his ankle. He let it, then stomped his other down atop it. "We're nothing," he laughed. "You're nothing. Look at you, you're like some mindless beast – no better than a Grimm!"

He snarled and growled on the floor, a writhing mass of arms and legs that futilely tried to reach him.

He might have felt pity for the fool, but could only bring himself to feel disgusted instead. He spat down on him and stepped away. "This is what drugs do to a man. I knew there was a reason I always stayed away from them." Roman crouched down before him and gripped the brat's chin between his hands. He pulled the head up so that he could look into those bloodshot eyes. "You were an actual threat back in Vale," he mused. "Funny how fast you lose all that when your mind isn't in the right place. I could tell; back when you were masquerading as one of those animals… you're not a fighter, kid, at least not like those brainless idiots." Roman tapped a finger to the boy's forehead. "You're a thinker, a schemer." He let the head fall. "Without that, you're nothing more than a below average psychopath with a weapon and your aura unlocked."

More than enough to kill the White Fang, clearly, but that wasn't very hard, was it? Not when he had the worst of the worst, the uninitiated peons and those who no longer cared for life. The only one worth crap among them was that lug with the chainsaw. Well, that and Perry, he supposed. Not that he could remember who that was… honestly, he'd just taken to calling them all Perry.

"You're too late to stop this show," Roman said. "We're almost there and… you know, just in case." He lifted one foot into the air and slammed it down onto the break. The thin, metal stick bent and snapped in two. "Yep, no stopping this wild ride now," he laughed and turned back around. "So, what are you going to d-"

The monster was right in front of his face. How it had gotten up, how it had done it so quietly, or why he hadn't sensed it, he didn't know – but it was less than a foot away. His arm snapped to bring his weapon forth, but it was faster.

He cried out as his back struck the control panel, jagged machinery digging into his spine. A hand gripped his hair and pushed his head back, and it was instinct alone that let him get his arm up before his throat. A searing pain shot through it, and he gasped as he kicked out to push the monster away. "You bit me?" he cried. "You bloody freak!"

"Rarghhh!" The incoherent roar echoed off the cramped cabin as the beast lunged for him. Roman growled back, twisted and flicked out his cane to deter the attack. An arm came up at the last second, catching the steel on the back, even as that caused bone to crack loudly. The second's hesitation cost him as the full weight of the huntsman bore down upon him.

It bit and tore, snarled and gnashed its teeth with wildness in its eyes that spoke of naught but murder. Through the haze of pain, Roman struggled to keep his weapon above him, between his face and the madman's. It was hard… the monster pushed down with reckless strength, unheeding of what damage it caused itself.

Maybe, he considered, in the middle of his panic, just maybe pumping someone he knew to be a psychopath full of drugs might have been a bad idea. To be fair, though, he hadn't expected the bastard to get up and kill his handlers.

Gods, he hadn't expected him to be able to get up at all!

"You're persistent," Roman gasped, "I'll give you that."

"Torchwick…" it groaned, like a freaking zombie.

"Oh yeah, definitely a bad idea… I should have killed you when I had the chance." Roman bunched his legs beneath them both and pressed his knees to the mindless boy's chest. "I won't make that same mistake twice," he yelled, kicking up with both feet.

His assailant was lifted off and crashed back against the nearest wall. He, it, recovered far faster than it should have been able to. It fell to one knee, a hand wrenching its weapon out of the dead faunus. The bloody knife flashed in the air, a grim spectacle as it lunged in once more for his face.

He parried it with ease, deflecting the clumsy lunge to the side, and then blocking the follow-up slice with the side of his cane. In and out, again and again, he hacked and slashed to no avail, each attack echoed by the sound of steel on steel and their panted breath. I could kill this idiot, Roman considered. I could knock him down and blow his brains out, to hell with what damage a shot in this confined space would do.

It would be so damned easy… but it wouldn't fulfil her plan. He needed to be arrested, he needed to be taken in and handed over to Ironwood, all to turn their silly, little toys against them. If he killed this kid, if he butchered him right here and now, then the chances of that peaceful arrest happening soon dwindled.

Yet again, that crazy bitch had his life on the line, and yet again he was dealing with the fallout. A bead of sweat ran down his brow as he felt fatigue rear its ugly head. Surely the kid would run out of steam first… surely.

As the monster masquerading as a man screamed and lunged in once more, however, Roman wasn't quite so sure.