Paramount Pieces

This was a first for Doug, and due to the nature of his situation, he suspected that it would probably be a last as well. Karma was something he was largely inexperienced with when it wasn't negative and out of proportion, after all, but this was arguably a better result than he could've bargained for.

The unwitting involvement in a highway robbery yesterday had ended with one of the worst possible outcomes; that being the total destruction of Doug's junker. Poor old boy had treated him well, but after the crashing, swiss treatment courtesy of many a gun, and underside damage from going over a divider at the end of the debacle, what life the vehicle had left was gone. All that awaited the car was a compactor funeral; and without it, Doug couldn't rush to and fro between his two jobs. His only option would be to pick up a rental and set a down payment, and that would land a hefty blow on the savings he'd thus far accumulated through his hard work.

Or so he thought, until he'd brought Goodwitch her student. Jaune had used his scroll to track down his locker yet again, as it had flown towards the random coordinates, eventually out of range entirely and someone from out of town had agreed to return it to the school. This objective had been failed, but getting a student back safe and sound even though an unexpected hazard took place on the highway was enough to earn praise -and apparently, a little leverage. The claim of having caught one of the many rascals responsible led Glynda to taking Doug down to the impound lot herself, and more or less intimidating the officer in charge until he agreed to change over the vehicle once owned by the White Fang member in question to the man who caught him; Doug. They had to make a few calls determining insurance claims on the junker, insurance switching over to the Black Goslin N-160 in his name with some adjustments to the price (which took some whispering over the phone, so that 'Dirk' and 'Doug' were not confused), as well as gaining temporary plates and damage costs, but by the end of the day it was determined that the Pitch-dark, sedan-styled vehicle were fit for him to legally drive.

For one day he'd had to deal with the inexistence of a windshield, but went about having it replaced the day after, taking a cab to Omeghis and leaving the new vehicle at Petto Automotive to be fully repaired. The costs were much less than the entire replacement of a vehicle. Even now due to this, though, he was distraught himself -Glynda had gone out of her way to do him one relatively tremendous favor. She had some benefit from the whole situation only in the name of preventing Doug from having any sort of excuse to apply to the event of him being late to a shift, but that hardly offset a personal visit out to the town for the sake of earning Doug an almost-free car. He owed her, and judging by the way she'd acted since then, she was actively aware of that.

Doug had been called up by her time and time again now near the end of classes or just as he was to leave work, for the sake mostly of simple errands. School supplies in low stock, his own cleaning supplies, and so on, but had also been tasked to be a courier service for students. Equipment repairs, dust orders and cafeteria specials had been carted around by him as well. much of his time had been spent being a Janitor, and now that these tasks could also be fulfilled by him from Glynda twisting his arm, he was significantly more busy but not enough so to stress him out. Many of his janitorial duties were eased up on for the sake of such transportation requests. However, unexpectedly, all of these experiences had led to further developments.

"Split-second decision making. Scheduling edits on short notice. Unforeseen complications. Rapidly changing objectives and destinations... Mr. Brightsnap, are you aware that you are actually quite skilled when it comes to driving?" Glynda asked. She switched which leg crossed over the other beneath her desk, one of her usual conversational quirks. Doug shrugged.

"I just do whatever my job entails, Ms. Goodwitch. Do you need me to go somewhere again?" She had begun with an analysis, so he figured her instructor instincts had taken hold, and she'd chosen to use this as an experience for him to take on a bigger challenge of some sort. When it came to driving, he couldn't think of what she could be thinking that would require buttering him up like this, but soon he found out.

Glynda shifted three books, one of which was absurdly thick, from one side of her desk to be in front of herself. She slid them his way. "I've made arrangements for you to have Saturdays off from your work here, in exchange for taking pilot courses for commercial and industrial airships, should you so choose."

"If this is another opportunity I wouldn't be able to get otherwise, I'll gladly accept flight courses. No harm in being licensed for something." He leaned forward, pulling the textbooks toward himself and tilting to one side to peek around them at her. "I could guess why you've done this for me, but... don't you already have enough mission pilots ferrying your kids around?"

"Quite the opposite." Glynda said, shutting her eyes as she recanted a school issue she was attempting to partially remedy here. "Our air transports aren't fit for battle to the same extent the militarys' are, but our targets being Grimm makes a constant threat of them coming under attack. Pilots are fearful to fly for Beacon when they have less firepower at their own disposal, porting hunters still in training, with the everpresent possibility of danger."

Doug nodded his understanding, a little perturbed by the information himself if his expression said anything but not quite enough for him to outright bail on the idea. He still owed her, and this was a fair trade if he had to say. On top of everything, his work with Omeghis could even evolve given he were licensed to fly for them as well; there was always room to grow in a corporation. "Well, count me in. You gave me more than enough reason to take risks."

Glynda nodded approvingly, but Doug's face dropped as she did so, though not apparently in response. He had come to some kind of horrifying epiphany, which brought a questioning look to her face, but just as quickly he rushed out with a thank-you. Once out of sight, Doug mentally repeated to himself a set of rules he bothered to reference less and less lately;

One: a good henchman looked generic. Doug swapped between coveralls and guard gear for Omeghis, almost never wearing his own clothes now.

Two: a good henchman was cost-efficient. Doug was now performing a vast number of tasks for Glynda and the school at large, but considering what they paid, he was definitely cost-effective. Originally it had been the opposite, since he was doing something Glynda herself and others could keep up with through less effort, but it was still favorful a deal to them.

Three: a good henchman listened well. Doug hadn't disobeyed an order since starting these lines of work, to the point where the students took him shopping and his superiors elsewhere made him strip on break. His ability to rebel, while nothing close to uncontrollable before, had been apparently curbed.

Four: a good henchman, lastly, saw things through no matter how bad they got. Doug was handling changes in his schedule with no word to it on both fronts, now learning to fly a ship just to pilot it into dangers others intentionally avoided.

Doug had become a henchman again -just a legal one.

As he made his way down the hall and toward the stairs with the intent of taking these textbooks -that were his own learning material, for a change -to his miniature office, he ran a hand up through his hair, beginning to think about his future again. Before, he had been concerned with having to eventually sacrifice this better standard of living, but had he just covinced himself of the mirage set in front of him? A spy wasn't much better than a sneaky grunt. A janitor was just a cleaning grunt. A pilot was little more than a chauffer, and a guard of all things was just a stationary grunt... he'd gone from a convenient and dispensable tool for Junior, to a convenient and dispensable tool for three other people instead, interwoven into an awkward knot that could unravel if any piece of it got wise to the others. He'd considered the precariousness of his situation a worthwhile risk before, but now, it seemed like he'd only engorged his old misfortune with illusions of success and change baiting him on.

Foot slipping on the second step of the stairs he hadn't even realized he'd begun to tread, Doug pitched forward and dropped his books, only to be caught in midair by a thick paw of a hand at his collar. Yatsuhashi's flat-hewn face looked concerned for once, causing Doug to glance around to become more aware of his surroundings. CFVY in its entirety was present, as well as team RWBY on the other flight of stairs leading further up from the landing rather than down. They looked curious, but the white haired one seemed to be hurrying them along for something or another seeing that the Janitor hadn't up and hurt himself. Coco and Velvet, however, regarded him with concern. Fox showed indifference, taking a seat on the stairs until they might choose to move on.

"Um... Thanks for the save, big guy." Doug said hesitantly, to which Yatsu nodded and righted Doug's footing. Velvet skittered past him, gingerly descending the steps and gathering up what Doug had thrown into the air upon his near-fall. He intended to tell her she didn't need to, but managed to only stutter a syllable before Coco slapped his chest lightly to get his attention.

"What's the matter, Dirk? You're not... hm. Well, you are unhealthy, and scatterbrained at times, but not usually like this. Hungover? Out of smokes? Starring in another generous sparring lesson?"

Doug made a face between offense and thankfulness, not sure which should come first. "I'm fine, really... but it's nothing important. Thanks for the catch, and for checking, but I just need to sort out some new developments I guess."

"Are you flying the airships for us?" Velvet proclaimed this in shock, holding the books she'd collected from the lower landing. Realization swept over the team, and Doug nodded carefully.

"That's a serious undertaking." Fox said, surprising the entire group there -it seemed he spoke little, even to them. "I hope you're prepared to commit to it. Weak nerves make for unsteady hands."

Velvet poked her head over the handrail as she crested the stairs, looking at Fox and a little peeved at that. "That's hardly how you should be thanking someone for taking courses just so we can learn how to do our jobs."

"It's a fair question, though." Doug said, accepting his belongings from Velvet as her temper cooled as fast as it had lit. "Honestly, I was kinda-sorta... guilt-tripped into it, but I don't mind. I owe Ms. Goodwitch for a favor she did me, but that's not why I'm accepting the pilot courses. It's another skill to notch on my scoreboard, sure, but a job is a job. Somebody has to do it... if no hunters could leave the grounds to ward off evil or whatever, they can't get paid -and my cheques come from your Headmaster. It's not like Beacon will go bankrupt over a lacking transportation, but giving a little is what brought me this far."

Yatsuhashi's mitt clapping him on the shoulder gave Doug a fright even as the giant spoke; "That is an acceptable outlook, even if it is mundane."

"But that isn't what's bothering you." Coco said, leaning forward as she got into his personal space just a little.

Doug's brows lifted. "I didn't ask for stairwell therapists."

"Yeah, all you asked for was an unfortunate accident."

"... I have work to be doing." Doug made to head down the stairs again, but he stopped cold as Velvet was noticably giving him an expression of overly vast concern. The disproportionate amount plainly visible in her face was enough to make him stagger, and it took him a second of fighting how sad that looked on top of Coco looking a little pissed that he'd caused such a thing for him to sigh, and sit down himself. Fox was still at thee bottom of the lefthand stairs, and now Doug was at the top of the right side.

"You kids probably don't know what it's like to question things. Your work is some glory-for-mankind type shit, your training is a tradition, you're told to save and protect lives from slobbering beasts and this school has probably been a goal you've worked up to for a long time... I often think about whether or not what I do really matters. Before, I was just running around at the whim of other people, greasing the lowest gears of society, and now I'm really just doing more of that. Hell, I'm not sure if what I do is even enough for me to be worth training you bunch to defend my way of life; others might be making up that difference for me, since it's really a net worth you have to keep vigilant over. You're risking your lives in your job, but that's all the more reason to believe in it's importance."

Doug sighed, long and deep. "I'm sick of just being some goon, at beck and call, scraping the bottom of the barrel to cover the interest of his loans. I'd thought I'd made leaps and bounds of improvements to my life, that having ambition had finally paid off, and it looks like all I really did is multiply the number of people that have me under their thumb."

The silence to follow was oppressing, but after a time, Velvet spoke up. "You said yourself, a job is a job. Somebody has to do it... and..." She trailed off, but unexpectedly, Yatsu added his thoughts again.

"You work simply and honestly. There is no shame in that... To perform tasks as asked but without much acknowledgement, to feel at the mercy of your superiors, that can be vexing. But you aren't quite as lowly as you think. You aren't avoiding payments, not gambling your money away or drinking too much -at least, it seems that way. The mightiest of machines can cease to function without the lowest of gears -they tend to be paramount pieces anyways. If I had to say, it sounds like you fill the role of more than one -and you're including the role of another with these lessons you've taken on. Don't sell yourself short."

To a small extent, Doug felt assured by the speech, but wasn't certain of who to thank -he couldn't tell whether Yatsu had said this based on his own opinion or whether he had said it to cover for Velvet's attempt at what sounded like it would have been the same tirade. So he merely nodded to both of them and said; "I, uh... suppose that's a good point. Thanks for that."

Throughout Doug's divulgence and Yatsu's consideration, Coco had looked swamped in enough thought to make string theorists pat her on the back in condolence. Doug's own unenthusiastic gratitude caused her to get out her scroll, and in moments Doug's phone pinged the receival of a message. He had glanced down when it happened, now looking up to regard her questioningly, but she only prodded his chest like she had in some of their previous encounters. Some things never changed. "You know the drill, Mr. Brightsnap -don't be late. And if Yatsuhashi's pep talk wasn't enough for you, if you show up all doom and gloom I won't be pleased."

As if on cue, Coco took her leave and her entourage of a team followed, Velvet with a meek wave of goodbye before following along herself. Doug wondered about his phone, but the meeting time she had in the message was two days from now, so he chose to move on.

Someone had to do these things, after all.