Work Text:
Once upon a time, there was a bun named Velvet Scarlatina. Even thought she was discriminated against as a faunus minority, Velvet attended the school of Beacon and trained to be a huntress. With her abilities, she hoped to defend her kind against the mass prejudices. Today, her story is set here, in the halls of Beacon. More precisely, it starts in the hall adjacent to the dining hall. Our naive but determined heroine stands tall, staggering... in front of a vending machine. It's an exhilarating mission, a depth-defying process. She fumbles through her Lien pouch, scattering hands about to find a Lien. The struggle is real, but she manages to come out on top. She finds her Lien, and she quick to insert into the belly of the beast, only to have this currency be regurgitated, spat back out to her discouragement. Velvet snatches her Lien from the clutches of this villainous fiend, the obstacles that stands before her and her much desired manufactured carrot cake package. She looks over this paper bill, examining it. After inspecting the slot of the vending machine, she comes to a valid conclusion. To make the appropriate amend, Velvet smoothes out the Lien, ironing the crinkles out between her fingers. Carefully, with considerate precision, she slowly inserts the bill back into the machine. Our poor heroine Velvet is thrown into despair when the machine almost immediately spat the money back out. Drat.
It would take several more attempts until she could coerce the villainous mechanical abomination to release its captive carrot cake. Velvet would pull the Lien back out, flatten it, press the bill back in, only to have it shoot back out. She was getting frustrated, hungry; the poor faunus could feel her stomach growling at her, undulating for the snack she craved. It was starting to get personal, and Velvet would not let a synthetically made vendor outsmart her. She would not fall victim to its injustice! With a fiery spirit and a newfound vigor sparked from giving herself a mental pep talk, Velvet ran her bill furiously across the machine’s edges to sand out the creases. She would have her cake yet! It was an intense moment, but she knew it would work; it had to. She loaded the bill onto the dock, conscientiously advancing into the slot. The machine pulled the bill in, swallowing it whole and keeping it. This was it, this was the moment in which victory would be hers. Velvet waited and waited with anxious anticipation, expecting an unfavorable outcome. When nothing came, the faunus almost wept with joy. She’d done it. After all the labor she’d put into such a meticulous task, she’d succeeded it. She won, and it was over. It was finally over.
Little did out heroine know, the thrilling saga was far from over. Whilst she was rejoicing, keying in the buttons to claim her prize, her spoils in this war of willpower versus cold hard mechanical evil, the devious machine had other plans. There would be no carrot cake for Velvet today. It was a Hail Mary, the last stronghold and offense to take her down. She’d assumed victory too soon, let her guard down, and this machine would exploit her naivety. Velvet, with a smile on her face, struck down on the enter button. The cake was finally coming to her, and she would relish in it. She would enjoy that cake for every sweet bite it contained. But suddenly, the machine stopped delivering. It paused in the middle of its gears rolling, with the cake in its teasing transparent cellophane dangling from its point of hostage. Velvet was given just a glimpse, a sliver of hope. She knew nothing but despair now.
So, Velvet’s day was obviously ruined. Feeling bitter and hungry, the bun skipped off elsewhere to find her meal. All she wanted was a carrot cake. That’s all the poor girl wanted. After all she’s been through, must she be denied even that? It would seem so. Oh well. Velvet scampered through the building until she met the exit, bouncing out into the outdoor areas of campus. Her new objective was to find the closest substitute to carrot cake, and this time, she was going to trample anything that got into the way. And by that, she meant she was going to use the most passive means necessary. Eventually, Velvet had reached the edge of the campus and entered the dangerous trail to town. Would our heroine even make it to the outskirts? Would she find the treasure she sought? Only time would tell.
Eventually, Velvet crossed the threshold into the city. It was dangerous, it was life-risking, Velvet was hungry. But with astounding stamina, and a resolve she wouldn’t allow to be crushed, Velvet made it to the supermarket. This was it, the final destination. The bun was quick to gather her materials, grabbing carrots, flower, frosting, eggs, any of the ingredients she needed. For the good of all those wronged by faulty vending machines, Velvet needed to persevere. After the bun had stacked all of the components into her little basket, she made her way over to the register. The clerk seemed nice enough; he checked out of her items compliantly. In any other situation, Velvet would have made an attempt toward small talk. Not today. Never today. She was still boiling over the occurrence with vending machine. The horrible freak accident left this poor faunus traumatized. After he finished scanning the last item, he gave her a sub total and added tax. So far, so good. Things were looking bright for Velvet. Too bright. She was suspicious now, and she was sure something was going to rain on her parade… But a naive girl like Velvet was swift to push it aside, keep optimism. She reached into her pockets to get her wallet out, sorting through the bills to pay for her groceries. …And then she realized she was one Lien short. One lien. Just one. But it was one Lien she would have had if the vending machine didn’t eat her money. It’s a sad day for Velvet.
What is life? All Velvet wanted was her carrot cake. And now, after the despicable, nefarious machine ate her money, essentially devouring her hope, she was short one Lien for her ingredients. Was it so much to ask the world that she is peacefully let to enjoy the sweet, sugary confections of a carrot cake. It wasn’t even a good carrot cake in that vending machine. It was an overloaded sugary square chockfull of chemicals to keep it fresh, packed neatly in a cheap cellophane wrapper. And the world seemed hellbent in even denying her that. Now this?? A carrot cake she would have to work to mix, bake, and dress was wrought from her grip because she was merely one Lien short. With what must have been the most grim expression, she told the clerk she had changed her mind about buying the ingredients. But with the amount of money she did have, Velvet knew exactly what she wanted. When our melancholic heroine left the store, she didn’t leave without purchasing a parting gift. Velvet was armed now, a nine-iron wrenched in her deathly grip, and that vending machine better watch out.
It was a long journey back to Beacon, but Velvet had her heart in it now. She’d suffered too many hardships to let a measly journey be her downfall. Her endurance was far too great to be stopped now. Velvet was on a higher plane, untouchable. She was to reach nirvana soon; Velvet was an unreachable entity now, she was i— This girl needs friends. In short, she marched back into Beacon, stormed right to the hall adjacent to the cafeteria, and stomped up to the vending machine. There was a standoff; Velvet gave the terrorizing machine a hard grimace, an infuriated glare. This bunny was done playing nice. The machine’s cold metallic interface seemed to light up in challenge. Now was not the time for diplomacy or Velvet’s usual pacifistic nature. It was an all-out war, and this bun intended to wit in. The machine might have started it, but she was going to finish it. Velvet raised her nine-iron, and the machine dared to test her with its ‘PLEASE ENTER LIEN’ tag, scrolling through its little screen above the buttons.
Oh no, she thought. She was not falling for that again. This machine fired the first cannonball when it decided not to accept her Lien. And when she went through all that smoothing out to get it to fit, she was cheated of her not-even-tasty snack cake. Velvet swung, without so much as a golf warning, slamming her club right into the side of the machine. It shook lightly, and she hit it again on the opposite side. She was ruthless with her battering, sending a steady stream of forceful strikes. The machine was breaking down, and they both (if it was even conscious) knew it. A few sparks flew out, the metal shell wearing down from Velvet’s relentless stress relief. The machine had become a distorted, deformed version of its prior infamy. That’s when Velvet backed up, reveled in her destruction shortly before chucking the golf club right into the glass. Shards, along with various snack packages, crackers, chips, and candy bars flew out. Justice was finally served.
All she wanted was a carrot cake.
After pillaging the vending machine, Velvet was lying on the cold, hard ground. Even though it was mentioned many times earlier, now, now it was finally over. Velvet had her fill, eating every last carrot cake in that terrible machine. It tasted like crap; all sugary artificial snack cakes do. But she’d done it out of pure spite toward that machine. The only thing the bun could do now was lie, away from the broken Plexiglas shards, and wallow in what she defined as a shallow victory. The spoils were crap, it was all crap, but at least she won. That’s all that mattered now. The bunny was triumphant. And she’d probably swipe the other snacks and throw them to other folks on campus like some sort of snack pack vigilante, giving chips and cookies to the poor. They’d all sing the name of Velvet, the greatest hero in snacking of all.