Rob X Punzel ~ Twelve!

“That boy is too dramatic by half.” Cutter’s voice was exactly what Goldie had expected to hear from the dangerous-looking man, a deep, raspy tone. He sounded like he had taken a blade to the throat and lived to tell the tale. “I'm glad you're here early; I hate staying up late.”

“Early bird gets the… um.” Goldie cut off her instant reply as he glared her down, letting the customer-service smile on her lips fade away to reveal her true discomfort with the situation. “How can we get through this as quickly as possible?”

“Good attitude.” Cutter grunted and motioned to the table, where a single object wrapped in leather was waiting for her. “Chay went all-out in making you a weapon, either that, or you brought in so much coin he had no choice but to use it to sponsor this. Hey, before we go any further, I need you to know something.”

Goldie waited patiently, hesitant to speak after his previous reaction. He eyed her curiously before shrugging and waving at her to go pick up the object. “Nothing? Good. Most people are more curious than you when they come in here. Anyway, all your little  guild taxes are going toward paying my fees until you pass all my tests. If you don't understand what that means, it's that I have no incentive to get rid of you quickly. The worse you are at learning, the longer I get paid. For my sake, I hope you're bad at this.”

“But you have set standards, and you're going to be a great teacher, right?” Goldie ventured after a long moment of hesitation. She watched him carefully until Cutter finally gave a reluctant nod of agreement. “In that case, I have no problem with the cost. Like Chay insinuated, I need to be able to protect myself and deal some damage, if necessary. Not to mention, it's not exactly like I have instructors lining up to teach me. If this is gonna keep me alive, I think it's a small price to pay.”

“More like a small price toupee,” Cutter replied dryly as Goldie reached for the dagger-shaped item. She looked back at him with a questioning glance, only to see a smirk on his lips. “Chay’s been telling me all about your hair-based class. In fact, well, you should really take a look at what he commissioned for you. It's a doozy of a doodad.”

Feeling a sinking in her gut, Goldie unwrapped the weapon on the table, revealing not a dagger, a short sword, or a knife. To her dismay, a large pair of scissors sat flatly on a leather holster. Trying not to judge too quickly, she picked the surprisingly weighty item up and began to turn it back and forth to better inspect it.

The blades gleamed wickedly in the morning light coming through a small window in the upper wall of the room. The handles were forged from dark metal, then wrapped in leather to allow her to maximize her grip strength. From what little she knew of these things, Goldie felt that the scissors were well-balanced. Still, the fact remained that they were undeniably scissors, just larger and perhaps more menacing than what she usually used to cut her hair.

“So these are…”

“Battle scissors.” Cutter stood off to the side with his arms crossed, a smirk on his face and a challenge in his eyes. “Not what you were expecting? Good.”

“It's a joke though, right?” Goldie let out a soft sigh, dropping the scissors to the table, where the tip sank into the soft wood instead of falling over and clattering around as she’d expected. “Oh.”

“It might’ve started as a joke, but it definitely didn't end up that way.” What remained of Cutter's lips twisted into a full grin. “Here's the thing, I can teach you how to use this just like my normal specialty-”

A knife appeared in each of his hands, dancing around his palms as he twisted his arms and twiddled his fingers. Then they were gone, either hidden away in some compartment or completely unsummoned, thanks to a skill of his. “-but this’ll give you a fantastic advantage over your fellow thief. Think of it this way. Let's say you get caught with a knife, specifically a dagger, like one of mine. First thing people think of is a mugger or a real fighter. Even if they don't try to duel ya, their guard is up. Now people are on edge, watching you, see?”

He stepped close and picked up the battle scissors, twirling them in almost exactly the same manner as his daggers, only for them to end up wrapped around his fingers, the individual blades parted and dangerously close to Goldie's nose. “You get caught with these? Someone's going to think you're a seamstress or a hairdresser taking your work home with you, if they even give ‘em a second glance. Combine that with your natural skills, and you have a perfect disguise. Also, these are great for going for the eyes. You want to scare guys? A little snip, snip, surprise!”

“I get it! Just… stop rhyming at me.” Goldie’s discomfort earned her a chortle as Cutter handed over the scissors and stepped back, patiently waiting for her to pick up the conversation. Taking a deep breath and letting go of the frustration she felt at the seemingly insulting weapon, she turned toward the instructor and sketched a small curtsy. “I'm sure your time is extremely valuable, and since I'm paying for it, let's get going on it.”

“Abyss… there I was, hoping to run out the clock for the day.” Cutter motioned for the young woman to follow him into a slightly larger room, which was empty of furnishings. “That reminds me, you only get an hour of direct instruction each day.”

“I figured it would be something like that,” Goldie grumbled at him, annoyed at how the man seemed to be designing every bit of their conversation to take as much time as possible. She hefted her scissors experimentally, trying to get comfortable with their surprising heft. “So, how am I supposed to use these? In combat, that is.”

Cutter had opened his mouth to give a flip answer, closing it but allowing his smirk to remain as she clarified. “You're a smart one. Abyss blast it, I might not make near as much of a commission as I was hoping. Alright, since you're so eager to get your money's worth, let's get started. The first thing you're going to do is learn how to use them closed. Keep your fingers out of the holes, and you can use them like any other dagger.”

The leather wrapping went all the way to the pivot screw, so Goldie adjusted and found herself still able to maintain a good grip. “Okay…”

“Of course, versatility is going to be the name of the game, so when you do want to open them up, you can use them to ‘trap and cut’. Not only will you have a better hold on your new weapon, if you get good enough, you should be able to block other blades and-”

“Let's start with closed, but let's start,” she growled to end his ceaseless pontificating. 

Cutter hesitated, looking down at her too-tight grip and the dangerous stare she was leveling at him. “Are you sure? Maybe you should take today to just get familiar with your new weapon. Give it a name? Get used to the balance, maybe-”

“I've been here for all of five minutes; you said I have an hour.” Goldie closed in on him, not sure herself if she was planning to actually stab the man or not. “If I’m paying for this, you're not getting a free hour from me.”

A knife gently pressing against her scissors and neck stopped Goldie dead in her tracks. Cutter left them there for a bare moment then stepped back with his usual smirk. “Lesson one. The best way to fight is to make the other person think you don't want to, then strike with everything you have in you. Be as disarming as possible while readying your arms. In the Brute Kingdom, sneak attacks like this are asking for the death sentence—but better maybe getting caught and beheaded than dying for sure in the heat of the moment, no?”

The remainder of their time passed in a flash of immense frustration for the young lady. Goldie struggled to adjust to the unconventional weapon, fumbling with the strange balance, cutting herself several times as her grip loosened and tightened, only to cause the scissors to snip at her skin. She also found that—unlike what she would expect for any normal version—the outer portion of the scissors had been sharpened to a near-razor edge.

“Keep your wrist loose! I already told you once, do you need a written statement?” Cutter snapped as he parried the scissors with his own dagger. His movement caused Goldie's eyes to go wide as she felt her wrist straining nearly to the breaking point at the rebound. “There, now you understand why you act when I tell you to do something. I'm not one of those fancy instructors over in the citizen or noble districts. If you can't figure even this much out, you're going to get hurt!”

The man snapped at her each time she fumbled through another set of attacks, insulting everything from her intelligence to her total unpreparedness for surviving in a city as brutal as the capital of the Brute Kingdom.

“You're fighting with a tool, not a sword! Make it move with you!”

“For system sake, it's half a foot longer than your arm normally is. How terrible are you at gauging distances? I bet you fell off a dozen buildings while you were trying to figure out how to navigate the thieves’ road, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, landing on your head would explain a lot about why you’re so bad at this.”

Goldie grit her teeth as she wiped away the sweat dripping down her forehead while simultaneously trying her best to follow his endless stream of instructions. By the end of the hour, she was bleeding and absolutely full of vitriol for the smirking, scarred man. 

As she stepped forward, arms shaking, yet still determined to land a blow on her smug instructor, Cutter held up his hands and made a shooing motion. “Too slow, and besides, your time's up. Get out.”

“What? But we just barely-”

“I say times up, that means you leave.” 

Gone was the joking and playful tone. In its stead was the reproach of a hardened criminal staring her down. Mouth suddenly dry, Goldie remembered where she was. Slowly, she edged to the door, keeping her eyes on the very dangerous man in the room with her. 

Cutter poked his head out after her as he stepped into the street, waving cheerfully at her as she moved away. “Your time slot going forward is sixth to seventh bell in the morning. See you then!”

Goldie's eyes went wide, and she stepped closer, protesting, “Wait! The doors of the orphanage don't open until six! I can't get here-”

The door slammed in her face, cutting her argument off. She knew better than to stand in an unfamiliar street and cause a scene, but beyond that, Goldie's attention was drawn to a now-familiar sensation of leveling up. Instead of fuming, she quickly swiped her fingers on her arm to see which of her skills had increased. 

Skill increase! Ponytail Pixie [Level 5 (Moderate) → Level 6 (Considerable)]!

Requirement to advance to level 7: Hai.

“Now it's not even using complete words?” Goldie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “What does this mean? Hai? Like… ‘hi hair, how are you’? Is that-?”

Skill increase! Ponytail Pixie [Level 6 (Considerable) → Level 7 (Proficient)]!

Requirement to advance to level 8: Ha.

“That… you… ha? Haha? Hair, I'm laughing with you, not at you?” When no further levels were gained from simple wordplay, Goldie returned to glaring at the door. She squeezed her hands into fists and growled, “Two levels and training. Fine. You want to play games? I'm going to sprint here every single morning. I hope you love a ton of attention being on your house, because I'm going to make sure every person on the street sees where I'm going every single day.”

Leaving her threat hanging in the air, Goldie turned on her heel and stomped away, hair growing at a visible rate as she left.