When he got back to the Inn, the first thing Jaune noticed was that the window he had flown out of was already boarded up. The second thing he noticed was that the innkeeper refused to look at him. However, when he came back downstairs after drying out all of his clothes, a steaming hot plate was on the counter, waiting for him.
" Your... friend already finished eating." She said, seeming very interested in a glass she was polishing. " Left about ten minutes ago. Seemed to be in a hurry."
She fidgeted under Jaune's curious gaze for several moments before reaching under the counter. She pulled out several envelopes and passed them to him, before walking away.
The first was a large manilla folder, with 'classified material, authorized eyes only' scrawled in red on the front. Those were almost certainly the mission specs. He'd have to read those first. The other two, smaller, white envelopes were probably personal, and as much as he wanted to open them he had to put the mission above everything.
An old, dilapidated factory was pictured on the top of the first page, glass windows shattered, walls graffitied and machinery long since scrapped for parts. According to the report, its' owner had gone bankrupt decades ago after Dust had replaced more primitive forms of energy. It was smack dab in the middle of the city, and had been taken over as a hub for the black market, smuggling products from the less controlled Eastern half of the city to its more prosperous Western half.
Currently, it was under the control of a particularly vicious gang called 'The Cannibals', which he hoped was only a nickname. They had been coming up in more and more reports as responsible for the smuggling of dust and munitions out of the city, and linked to a number of disappearances across town. Whispers of them as puppets of Salem had been spreading across command.
They were usually spread across the city in their various dealings, but today a great number of them were gathering at their headquarters, for some ritual of theirs. Estimates were spotty, between 30-50 of them would be there, enough at least to cripple to organization permanently. One Atlesian soldier was worth at least 3 gang members in a firefight, but there could be a few Aura users to tip the scales. Winter could just be exercising caution by sending him along, just in case any unforeseen adversaries threw a wrench in there plans, but it still seemed like a waste, especially when their real target, Carib, was such a danger.
Carib the Cannibal had taken over the gang three years ago, and had eluded capture and death a dozen times. Rumor had it that he was Huntsman who had went very, very bad, and he was almost certainly a low level subordinate of Salem. He was dangerous enough to have massacred a team from Haven sent after him, and he was turning more and more of the underworld towards Salem's side.
And now he was Winter and Qrow's problem. They would lure him somewhere, on a fake deal for smuggled weapons. A mole within their own forces had been found out... and persuaded to play for the home team again. It was his life for Carib's, and really the perfect set up. Salem was devious, but she hadn't yet been double crossed by her own rats. 'Only an idiot expects loyalty from traitors.' Of course, their little triple crosser would probably be dead before the end of the month. He was playing a dangerous game.
'We cannot afford to jeopardize the success of this mission, so stealth is key. Move the platoon through the city without raising attention.'
Jaune sighed, the tucked the papers back in the folder. Stealth was... going to be a problem. He didn't do stealth all that well, and the average soldier was far from inconspicuous. Even now, he could spot them coming into the inn in groups of twos and threes, polished white and grey armor sticking out like a sore thumb amidst the common mish mash of cloth most denizens of Kuchinashi wore. Even one of them drew dozens of eyes, and the grapevine of Kuchinashi's criminal element was one of the fastest communication networks known to man. They'd tip off the Cannibals before they got within a mile of their safe house.
'Maybe we could go through the sewers...' he thought, stomach lurching at the very idea. ' Just try and enjoy breakfast, Jaune.' He thought, dully picking at a misshapen egg yolk.
He picked up the next letter, trying to take his mind off the potentially disgusting path his day was taking. 'From Nicholas and Amelia Arc, South Vale.'
Guilt replaced disgust, and he briefly considered tossing this letter aside, but thought better of it, and steeled himself.
The first few paragraphs were obviously written by his mother. Asking him how he was doing, letting him know that his big sister Violet was getting married. ' I didn't even know she was dating...', he thought sadly. That she would love it if her favorite little brother could make it, That he really ought to call more and saying that if, somehow, he could drop by Vale sometime soon, he would be more than welcome.
Jaune hung his head guiltily. He wasn't going home. He wasn't sure if their big, crowded house back in the Valean countryside was even his home anymore. He hadn't seen any of his family face to face since he ran off to Beacon. And now Violet was getting married. Poor, tortured Violet, who had to play referee to seven little monsters, when their parents were out. Next thing he knew, his mother would be demanding grandkids, first from her, and then down the line of her eldest children. Amethyst, then Ciel, then... him. She had already asked him if he had a girlfriend, and he doubted 'it's complicated' would satisfy her.
'Speak of the devil', he thought, looking at the name on the next letter with a small grin, before putting it back down, and finishing the first.
His father had written the final paragraph. He didn't ask any questions, didn't bother with any niceties, and his prose was devoid of the flowery language favored by his mother. Nicholas was a warm man, but rather quiet. He had been a Huntsman, but retired young, and rarely spoke about it, preferring to regale his children with legends of more distant ancestors.
'Jaune, take care of yourself. War is hell. You're an Arc, and that's a blessing and a curse. This rotten business is our blood, and we have a nasty habit of getting right in the thick of things. Just be careful. I never wanted this for you, but I'm proud of you.'
His father had been the least supportive of all his family members when he said he wanted to become a Huntsman. At the time, that had hurt, a lot. Now...
'Dad never talked about his team either.' Jaune thought. No old classmates had ever come over, reminiscing about the academy, or shared missions, or greeting their honorary nieces and nephew. And, every once in a while, he would get a far off look in his eyes, lost to the world until his mother's touch brought him back. Jaune thought he finally understood why.
'Someday' he thought, ' Dad and I are going to sit down and have a nice, long chat.'
" Hey Captain!" A voice called out, disrupting the other patrons at the Inn's diner, and Jaune was tempted to ignore it. He had a letter to read after all. But, for now, it was not to be.
" What?" He asked stiffly, looking up to see Private Connie Evergreen.
" Just reporting for duty, sir." He said slyly, clearly enjoying throwing his commander off balance.
Technically, as a specialist, Jaune was an officer, but he didn't exactly have a defined rank. However, when he tried to order his squad to evacuate a falling position against a Lieutenant's orders, he had nearly been court-martialed until Winter stepped in and said, as a Captain, he outranked the Lieutenant and thus could countermand his orders. No one was willing to argue with her and the rank had stuck. Of course,afterwards, she had made clear in no uncertain terms that whatever his rank was, if he disregarded her orders there would be hell to pay.
" At ease." Jaune replied, still uncomfortable. He was acquainted with most of Alpha Platoon, but they were Winter's men, not his.
Evergreen kept his lopsided grin and made his way over to the table in the center of the diner, where most of the soldiers had congregated. Most of them seemed to be enjoying the brief change of pace. Half of them seemed to roughly maintain discipline, talking amongst themselves in hushed voices. The other half were growing increasingly rowdy, voices raised as they laughed and shouted, disturbing the other patrons and occasionally flirting with a few of the female patrons.
'50 lien on who the newbies are.' Jaune thought darkly. He wasn't the only one who noticed. Lt. Church, the ostensible head of the platoon, was looking at half his command with thinly veiled disdain. The Atlesian Army had expanded its ranks vastly in recent months. They had to, otherwise they would be spread too thin to protect four different kingdoms. But the soldiers who had grown up as 'tin men', under the strict regimen of military life, resented the newcomers. At best, they were unorthodox, unfamiliar with the Atlesian martial culture and propriety. At worst, they were sloppy, arrogant and borderline incompetent.
The split wasn't perfect of course. A few soldiers he knew to be Mistrali were behaving perfectly fine, and one or two of the 'true' Atlesians, newer recruits, were joining in on the revelry, by the mold still held. The tin men resented foreigners who thought throwing on an Atlesian uniform made them soldiers, and they especially resented those who deigned to tell them what to do. Which meant, to some extent at least, they resented him.
He could already tell this group was going to be a headache, but for now, they weren't causing too much trouble, so he'd leave them alone. If they stepped out of line, he'd have to intervene, and he really, really, just wanted to enjoy what was left of his breakfast without hassle.
"Beats the hell out of rations!" He heard a voice shout over the din. He nodded slightly, then tried to drown out their noise, munching on another bite of his meal before it got cold as he picked up the final letter.
'From Yang Xiao Long, Kuo Kuana' With a grin, he tore open the envelope and scanned over it's contents.
Dear Vomit Boy,
Hello from the wild island of Menagerie! RWBY is doing it's usual routine, kicking ass, taking names, etc. I'd love to tell you more, but I know command is reading these letters and we're not allowed to say anything that might be classified. Like the White Fang doesn't already know how and where we've pounded them... anyways, the weather's finally starting to pick up. I can talk about the weather, right? Or are the 'climate conditions' sensitive intel too?
It's been raining cats and dogs for weeks, so a bit of sunlight has been nice. Anyway, Coco insisted that we all have a beach day, and since half the time we don't even know where the White Fang are, we went with it. Blake was feeling a little under the weather, supposedly, but really I think she was just being catty. She'll be better soon, which means she'll have a hard time getting out of it next time, assuming of course, that there is a next time.
On the bright side, we're right on Sienna's tail, and hopefully in a few weeks we'll be back in Mistral and the war in Menagerie will be all wrapped up. Unless you've been as lucky as we have, in which case Mistral's also tidied up and we can go home. That'd be nice. Back in Vale for a night on the town, you, me and Bumblebee.
I've put in some old fashioned pictures for your viewing pleasure. Take a close look and you might see something interesting, although you might want to take that tip with a grain of salt. Sea what I did there?
I hope you're doing okay. I... we miss you, but I'm sure you're staying busy at least. Someone's got to hold the fort down while we're gone. Besides, I'm sure you and Uncle Qrow are getting along wonderfully. He's an acquired taste, but for an old man, he's pretty cool. Unless he gets a bit protective because he thinks we're... you know. I know still need to sort out whatever this is but... what I'm really trying to say is...You better not die on me Jaune.
Sincerely,
Yang Xiao Long
P.S. Ruby says hi.
P.S.S Please don't tell Blake I've been making Faunus puns. She'll be furry-ios
"Damn it Yang." Jaune said, chuckling involuntarily. Her puns were terrible. ' I'll have to tell her, diplomatically of course, next time I write... letter down easy... dammit now I'm doing it.'
Jaune rifled through the ret of the envelope, pulling out three small squares of paper. Most photos were transmitted digitally, at least until the CCT went down. Now, having not seen most of his friends and family for months or years, he cherished the few physical copies he could get.
The first picture was rather simple, although pleasant. It feature a group of Huntsman standing in front of a fairly large house, posing for the camera. RWBY was in the center, flanked by CFVY and SSSN on the left and right, with two older Faunus, a large panther of a man and a smaller woman, likely Blake's parent's in the background. It was a nice picture, and to the untrained eye might seem like just a group of friends, perhaps commemorating the end of a nice vacation. Jaune knew better.
A picture said a thousand words, and was much harder to censor than a letter. The date on the bottom, from roughly a week ago, and everyone's presence in the picture, had one clear, subliminal message. 'We're all okay.'
Of course, they weren't exactly okay. Yatsuhashi had a rather nasty scar over his left eye, which was now and perpetually closed. Velvet was clearly favoring her right leg, and Neptune had a bandage wrapped around his temple.
Most notably, Blake, despite the radiant sunlight in the picture and the tanned complexions of almost everyone else, save for Yang and Weiss, who apparently burned rather than tanned, was unusually pale, with slight bags under her amber eyes. The angle of the shot almost concealed the cast on her left arm, although if you looked closely you could see patches of it exposed behind Yang's back, whose arm was wrapped around her partner for support as much as for the photo's atmosphere.
' Under the weather was an understatement.' He thought wryly. Still, it was interesting to see Blake after so long. Had it really been over a year? He flipped through the pile in his hands to the next photo.
'...whoa...'. For the love of the brothers, he could not, would not, let Qrow see this. He shook his head slightly, and tried to focus on the message trying to be sent.
In the background, he could make out Ruby eagerly trying to teach Velvet and Weiss how to make sandcastles. The rabbit faunus was smiling nervously, while the heiress had a clear look of apprehension one her face. Weiss's background didn't exactly lend itself to beach days, Ruby was crafting a large wall from a pile of sand, dug out of a tunnel by none other than Yang. That, of course, wasn't the problem.
The problem was the pose Yang was making while digging, smirking at the camera. Her outfit wasn't particularly risque, in fact, considering her usual style her choice in swimwear seemed rather tame, but never the less this was still a close up shot of her in a bikini. ' And she wants me to focus on the background.'
Of course, he thought as his face warmed up, she could just be teasing him. Every picture didn't necessarily have to have some message behind it, although he had a hunch that this one, in fact did.
The final photo was focused on Ruby, Weiss and Velvet, and their emerging metropolis. Weiss's attitude had shifted drastically as she pointed out where she wanted the other girls to place the next batch of sand. She had a sort of manic gleam in her eyes, and building sand empires was clearly something that she would never admit she liked.
In the background however, Yang and Coco were smashing something... the tunnels! That was why they dug out tunnels. The little sand city was Kuo Kuana, and the tunnels were the White Fang hideouts in the desert. And of course, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a very large tunnel off in the distance, out of Yang and Coco's range.
The message they were trying to send him was that the White Fang were hiding in tunnels and they had destroyed all but the last of them. It was quite clever actually. It would have been impressive had he figured it out, without already knowing the message.
Of course, Yang couldn't know that as an Atlesian officer, he had access to certain reports, or that he stretched the limits of his clearance to keep track on his old team mates, and their missions, but, hey, it was the thought that counted. 'Amongst other things' he thought, tempted to flip back to the second picture, before he stopped himself. ' Now is not the time.'
Instead he focused on the third picture. Hidden message or not, they seemed so relaxed, so carefree... ' I should show Winter this.' Ice Queen or not, Winter was still a big sister at heart, and she'd be happy to see Weiss enjoying herself.
'On second thought, I'd have to explain why I have a picture of her sister in a swim suit.' Not the best of ideas, actually. The better idea would be to put this away in his room and get back to business.
Alas, it was not to be. Pvt. Evergreen entered his peripheral vision and snatched the photos out of his hands.
" And they said I wouldn't do it." The soldier chuckled, glancing at several of his comrades with a cheeky grin . " So let's see what we're in for..." Suddenly his eyes widened as Jaune's fists clenched.
The 'pure' Atlesians were absolutely livid at the breach of decorum. Several of them were staring, stunned and slack jawed. Lt. Church was shooting daggers that could pierce through a Goliath's hide, but he sat still, teeth clenched, waiting to see what Jaune would do.
Pvt. Evergreen back pedaled out of arms reach, never taking his eyes off the photos, with a shit eating grin on his face the entire time.
" Well, Captain." He said. " I didn't think you had it in you."
"Private, put those down, now."
Evergreen chuckled. " Give me a minute to savor it, Cap."
Jaune forced himself to calm down. He couldn't afford to lose his temper in front of the platoon. He had to appear aloof, detached, and above the men he was supposed to lead. ' Is this how Winter feels all the time?' He thought, suddenly much more sympathetic to his mentor, if this is what she had to deal with.
As soon as he did calm down, though, Evergreen would have to be punished. He had to maintain some semblance of discipline after all.
" You do realize that stealing classified material is a capital offense, right?" A nearby soldier, a staff sergeant, according to his uniform, stepped in. " So's insubordination, for that matter."
" Well, good thing this is more ... personal." Evergreen said, shoving a photo in the NCO's face. " If you know what I mean." He said, waggling his eyebrows.
" I'm going to have to ask you to stop ogling my friends." Jaune said, strolling over, trying to maintain a cool facade. ' Lashes are too harsh... probably. PT until he drops? Not before the mission...'
Whether Evergreen was unaware of his impending doom or just committed to enjoying the calm before the storm, the trooper seemed to be in good spirits. He posed in mock disappointment.
" Oh, Captain, that's a damn shame. You really had me going there for a minute. Although," he preened. " I shouldn't be surprised. It's not like everyone can be on my level." Seconds before the inevitable metaphorical hammer dropped on him, Evergreen turned his head back to the photos and gestured at it with rapt attention. " Hey, Rojas... doesn't one of these girls look kind of familiar?"
Jaune grinned involuntarily. Evergreen must be looking at the third picture. The soul crushing terror the private would experience when he realized he was ogling Winter Schnee's little sister would almost be punishment enough... almost.
" Ruby Rose..." Rojas muttered in disbelief.
'... What?'
"How do you know that name?" Jaune asked carefully. Evergreen looked at the Staff Sergeant with open interest, and several of his squad mates did so as well, although more discretely.
" I don't know her personally." The NCO replied, nonplussed. " But she's met my kid brother, Lupus." The Sergeant paused uncomfortably before continuing. " Somehow the brat made it in as an officer on an airship. I can't believe that punk outranks me." He said, mockery hiding a deep sense of pride. Rank and status mattered, in Atlas especially. " Shipped off to Menagerie a few months ago, apparently with a team of Huntresses." He arched his eyebrows at Jaune. " Friends of yours, I take it?"
"Yeah." Jaune replied. " Small world, I guess. So, how well does this brother of yours know them?"
" He only ever mentioned Rose, sir. They don't talk much, but I think he's probably got a thing for her. One sided, I'd wager."
" Is that so?" Jaune said, while Evergreen's incessant mirth continued.
" And the plot thickens!" He said, cackling maniacally. A chorus of laughter from his fellow 'knock-offs' followed.
"Connie, you are on thin enough ice as it is." Rojas cracked. " I'm sorry sir, he's a replacement. Just joined the unit yesterday, otherwise we'd have laid him flat already."
Evergreen's antics, for the moment, were a secondary concern. ' Yang would be very, very interested in this little bit of information.' Still, he was a bit hesitant to share this tidbit. On one hand, the younger Rojas hadn't pulled anything untoward, otherwise he would have already been 'dealt with'. On the other hand, if he was anything like Evergreen...
"Come on Sarge, pull that stick out of your ass! Live a little."
Church, at this point, couldn't take it anymore. He stood up, pushing his chair back from the table, and stomped over, fire in his eyes. " If you keep it up, you won't be living at all much longer." Rojas stepped out of the way as the Lieutenant lifted Evergreen up by the straps of his chest plate. " Listen to me Private, and listen well, because I'm only going to tell you once. I don't know what rat hole you crawled out of, and I don't really give a damn. So long as you wear our uniform, I expect you to act like an Atlesian." He pulled Connie closer, until their visors were nearly touching. " In the few hours you've been under my command, you've shown a complete disregard for proper decorum, your comrades, and the chain of command. You're a complete disgrace to everything we stand for, and an irredeemable failure of that pathetic excuse for a training program they have for you knock-offs. The world's really going to hell if we're scraping scum like you off the bottom of the barrel."
Church sighed and dropped the soldier on the ground. Evergreen groaned as he slammed into the floor, then got back on his feet. " What the hell, man? It's not like I asked for this! You tin men plucked me up off the streets." Jaune was reasonably sure he was exaggerating. Recruitment efforts were aggressive, but not that aggressive. He hoped.
Lt. Church scowled in disgust. " If it were up to me, you'd be dead right now." Evergreen's face paled. " Any self respecting Atlesian would do it. I'd have you whipped until you couldn't move, thrown you into the brig, and then have you strung up and shot."
Church then turned to Jaune. " Unfortunately, it's not up to me. What are your orders, sir?" The Lieutenant allowed a hint of sarcasm into his question, a small indulgence. No doubt he hadn't missed Jaune's own non-Atlesian background. A few details gave him away. The white jacket typical of the Specialists and Officers in the Atlesian military was far more worn and wrinkled on Jaune than any native Atlesian would allow, his tussled hair a bit too messy, his manner a bit too relaxed when faced with insubordination. As far as Church was concerned, Jaune was just another 'knock-off', a phony, a fake, who had snuck his way into somewhere he had no business being. It hit close to home.
'This isn't like Beacon.' Jaune thought, his face contorted into an emotionless mask. Any show of weakness would undermine his XO's trust in him even more. ' I earned this, fair and square.'
Evergreen was still on the floor, kneeling, almost begging for mercy, although his pride wouldn't allow him to ask. The other men, some of whom had just been laughing at his antics, looked away and did nothing. Captain Arc had him dead to rights and he knew it. A spark of terror was mixed in his eyes as he desperately looked at the friends he had been laughing with moments before. Not one of them moved a muscle.
Jaune wasn't used to holding some one's life in his hands, not against their will. Whenever one of his friends had given him that level of trust, he was always trying to save them. He had killed in battle, but this...
Church was looking at him, watching his every move like a hawk. Evergreen's conduct had been egregious, and by Atlesian standards he should be punished savagely in order to maintain discipline. Jaune wasn't an Atlesian. He refused to kill for something that seemed so minor, so pointless.
He sighed. " Half rations for a month, and latrine duty for two." The kid's posture loosened, and he relaxed, as if he had a new lease on life. Jaune had to maintain order, but he could afford this small mercy. " Don't push it, Evergreen. Most officers wouldn't be as forgiving."
" That's an understatement." Church remarked bitterly as the Private got back to his feet, and walked away, tail tucked between his legs as he desperately tried to blend back into the crowd.
" Would you like to add anything, Church?" He hadn't even started the mission and it was already falling apart. It had been months since he'd led a team, and that had been with his friends who trusted him implicitly. He had no idea how to lead people who openly disliked him. 'I have no idea what I'm doing: A Biography of Jaune Arc.' He thought.
" I wouldn't dream of it, Captain." Church replied. "It's not my place." At least the man would follow orders. His Atlesian pride wouldn't allow for anything less. Jaune looked at the clock, and sighed. 11:45.
" We head out in 15 minutes. Everyone get ready." With that, Jaune hurried up the stairs. He had to place the mission specs in a secure location, at least until the operation was over. Not to mention the letters.
When he came back down, the entire platoon was in full formation and geared up. 'That was fast.' Lieutenant Church was standing in front of the lot of them, looking very pleased with himself.
" We're ready to move out, sir. I've already debriefed the men."
" Good. Just one problem, Lieutenant." Jaune said wearily. " We have to sneak up on an enemy stronghold half way across the city. We can't walk down the streets."
" Sir," Church said " we have no bull heads and last I checked, there are no secret tunnels between here and the base. What are you suggesting?"
Jaune desperately tried to think of any other option, but, as far as he could tell, there wasn't one. " We'll have to go through the sewers. I've looked through the network, and there's an exit right into the factory."
Church rolled his eyes. " Like they won't notice 20 men crawling through a man hole in the middle of the street. " If a platoon marching would catch the attention of the grapevine, that little image would set it on fire.
" We'll have to find a less obvious way in." Jaune replied dully. Church still looked skeptical, although protocol limited his ability to say so. "Look, if you've got a better idea, I'd be happy to hear it." Jaune said. He had very much enjoyed breakfast this morning and would prefer to keep it down.
Church stayed silent, frustrated by his own lack of alternatives. He turned to his men and said " I don't suppose any of you know any secret passage ways into the sewers nearby." There were a few chuckles amongst the group, until a hand was hesitantly raised.
" Actually, sir," a familiar voice said, " there's a manhole nestled in blind alley 2 blocks down. Used by maintenance, mostly." It was Evergreen.
" How do you know that?" Jaune asked.
Evergreen laughed nervously, still shaken from his earlier near death experience. " I'm from Kuchinashi, Captain. Born and raised."
" Of course you are." Jaune sighed. It certainly explained a few things. "Lead the way then."
Evergreen paused, uncomfortable with being the center of attention again. However, a small remnant of his shit eating grin returned to his face, and he quickly rushed to the front door, rifle forward. " Move it people, we've got tangos to kill!"
"We might make a soldier out of you yet, Connie." Sergeant Rojas chuckled, while Church groaned despondently. " You heard the man, move it!"
The tavern was dark, despite it being just after noon. The windows were covered with two, thick screens that tinted everything in the room in a light yellow. At this time of day, the bar was almost empty, save for a few, sad patrons mulling about.
Winter would never have to come place on her own. She hadn't used to drink much period, let alone at this time of day, or in a run down bar like this. Before she met him of course. Knowing he drove her to drink would probably just make him proud. Bastard.
Said bastard was lounging at the far end of the bottle, with his trade marked grey coat and a shot glass, half filled with some light brown liquor. He grinned in recognition before waving her over.
She sat down in the stool next to him, waved the bartender over, and ordered a glass of water. " Now is not the time to be getting drunk."
Qrow shrugged, before kicking back the rest of the glass in one fell swoop. " Who, me?" He asked, sliding the glass down to the bartender. " I'm just ... loosening up a little before business. This is nothing."
Winter was unamused. She turned the bartender, who had made his way over with Qrow's drink. " What is he drinking?"
" Kuchinashi tears." The bartender said. " Local specialty, 140 proof." Winter's eyes narrowed while Qrow swallowed another glass of that swill.
" Like I told you," he said confidently, " nothing."
" I think he's had enough for now." Winter said, and the bartender nodded, walking away to Qrow's furious protests.
" What are you doing?" He asked.
" It's not my place to argue with your woman, sir."
Qrow glared for a moment. " She's not my..." he then stopped, and then turned to Winter, who wore the smallest of grins.
" You were saying?" She asked. Either he said she was, and he would be sober, or he said she wasn't and she could finally put an end to his incessant flirting. It was a win-win, really.
Qrow sighed dramatically, before wrapping an arm around her shoulder. " You know, the 'lady friend' position isn't all fun and games." He learned in closer, smirking. " You sure you can handle it?"
" I can certainly stay undercover for half an hour." She said, rolling her eyes, without removing his arm. Forcing his way out of his grasp would only make a scene, and they we're trying to lay a trap, after all.
Qrow pouted, removing his arm from her. "Suit yourself." He said, before swiping her water and gulping it down.
Qrow had a special way of getting on her nerves. In the rigid world she had known ever since she had come out of her mothers womb, people knew how to behave themselves. Superiors ordered, subordinates knew to obey, and peers were professional. Qrow flaunted boundaries that would get most people thrown on their ass with nary a care in the world. He threw her off balance. She didn't like it, but like a moth pulled to flame, she found herself drawn into his presence more often than not.
She'd get the hang of him sooner or later, or die trying. Winter Schnee wouldn't tolerate failure.
"So..." Qrow drawled meaningfully. " Where's that other buzzkill you usually drag along. You know, blond, tall and scraggly?"
" Jaune is supervising Alpha platoon while they take out the Cannibal's head quarters." She whispered, careful to avoid tipping off any of the other suspicious characters in the bar.
Qrow sighed. " At some point, you're going to have to stop coddling him."
Winter scoffed. " I do not 'coddle."
" Sure you don't." Qrow chuckled. " You run him ragged and beat him within an inch of his life when you think it's safe, then send him out on grunt work the moment thing's might actually get interesting. How does that saying go, again? Nobody beats up my little brother but me?"
Winter stiffened, and Qrow shook his head. He should have known better than to have brought up family.
" Just wondering. It's not like I know from experience." Qrow had a far off look in his eyes as he stared at his empty shot glass. " I was always the brother getting beat on."
" I wonder why." Winter deadpanned. Qrow laughed.
" There it is." He smirked, insufferably, while Winter straightened her posture. " No one ever believes me when I tell them under that ice cold exterior, there's some fire." Qrow leaned in closer. " Of course, I actually prefer it that way. That little spark is all mine."
" What do you think you're doing?" Winter said, the faintest tremor in her voice.
" Just keeping up the act, of course." Qrow whispered. " These people think that you're my loving girlfriend, here to drag me out of the cold grasp of the bottle. Wouldn't want them to get any other ideas and tip off our target, would we."
"You're an ass." She said, flushed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear as Qrow showed complete disregard for her personal space. Again.
" Not that I mind the alone time, sweet heart, but why did you send blondie to the factory? The soldiers could have handled it, and our target isn't exactly a walk in the park. Might as well promote him and send him off if you aren't going to use him."
" How I handle my charge is no concern of yours." Winter said, wriggling out of Qrow's reach off and scooting away. " Besides, he's no where near ready to be a full specialist, and if I brought him here he'd just get in the way."
" Maybe." Qrow agreed. " But at least he could have taken some of the hits for us, put that big Aura of his to use for once. That's obviously compensating for something, by the way."
" Qrow..." Winter growled.
" His youth and inexperience, of course." Qrow said. " What did you think I was going to say?"
" I usually assume the worst whenever something comes out of your mouth." Winter muttered.
" Harsh... fair, but harsh." Qrow said. " Still, I've seen the kid in action. He's not on our level, but who the hell is? He's alright in a scrap and can think on his feet. That's more than I can say for most of the drones Ironwood calls Specialists." Qrow quailed slightly at Winter's glare. " You exempted, of course."
" Look, Winter." Qrow said. " He might not be up to your standards, but people are starting to talk. We need every Huntsman we can get, sending two specialists on missions that only needs one is just wasting resources. More and more of the brass are wondering why Arc isn't already on his own. Especially after that incident in the Bachari district..."
" That was a classified report!" Winter barked, having to temper her anger and volume to avoid the unwanted drunken gazes of those around them. Qrow shrugged.
" I hear what I hear, especially when there's someone who doesn't want me to hear it. Wouldn't be much of a spy, otherwise."
Winter could report him for this. Ironwood would almost certainly let him slide, he had to, but someone lower on the food chain would at least give the drunkard a good chewing out for spying on their own. She wouldn't do it. ' Maybe I am going soft.'
" So, what's holding you back?" Qrow asked.
" Arc has made substantial progress in some areas." She admitted, hesitantly. " But has stalled in others. He hasn't even unlocked his semblance yet." Not all Huntsman had, of course, but the more powerful ones almost always had mastered them. Aura control was great, but it was too rigid, too narrow, and too easy to counter. A semblance was a custom trump card that could turn the tide of battle more often than not, and she would be damned if a Huntsman under her care was set on his own without one.
" So what are you doing to fix that?" Qrow said. " Standard aura control training?" Winter sighed.
" Bartender," she muttered, " a bottle of your finest please."
" Hypocrisy, thy name is Winter." Qrow said, while Winter looked him in the eye coldly.
" We'll split it." She said.
"... Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
Winter scoffed. " We'll split it after we've completed the mission, Qrow."
Qrow deflated slightly at that. "I'm still not quite ready to commit, though."
Winter slumped against the bar, readying herself for a long, sober discussion. " We did water walking today." She said.
"Aura control training." Qrow repeated. Aura worked similarly to a force field. It could repel attacks, and that repulsion translated easily enough when translated to other objects, say, water. Of course, water walking was and could only ever be a training exercise, for a number of reasons. For one thing, maintaining that kind of repulsion in one area of the body continuously required a level of focus and calm that was nigh impossible in battle. That, combined with the advanced nature of the training, meant that few people outside of elite huntsmen even knew the technique existed.
'It's still pretty cool, though.' Qrow thought, remembering the first time he had shown STRQ how to do it. ' The look on Tai's face after he fell in the water was priceless.' Of course, after a few days, they had all gotten the hang of it. Even Tai, the bastard.
" So, why the long face?" He asked. " Did he bomb that badly?" Qrow wished he could have seen that. It wouldn't have been quite as entertaining as lording over Taiyeng, but... it was probably a close second.
" He was at it for almost an hour." Winter murmured.
"Ah... that'd do it." There was another reason why water walking was almost never used for anything practical. Maintaing a shield, even without anything repeatedly bashing into it, was taxing, and most Huntsman couldn't go for more than a few minutes without exhausting themselves. Winter hadn't chosen to get off the lake when she did to prove a point, she had to get off, otherwise she would be far too exhausted to fight today.
"That's not even the worst of it." Winter continued. " After we were done, I asked him if he was tired." The bottle had finally arrived, a vintage red Mistrali wine. Winter toyed with it's neck, considered popping it open and filling a glass, before deciding against it. " He looked at me like I had grown a second head." She groaned. " What the hell is he?"
There wasn't much more she could do about it. Aura control was a finely honed skill, and there weren't many short cuts to getting it. She had tried all the ones she knew." He needs to have control over most of his aura before he can use his semblance, but I don't know what else to do to get him there."
" Nothing you can do." Qrow replied, taking the bottle and examining it. He wasn't exactly a sommelier, but he could tell this was an upscale brand, especially for a place like this. 'Nothing but the finest for daddy's little princess.'
" What do you mean, nothing I can do? It's the only thing I have left to do!"
"Winter, Winter, Winter..." Qrow said, trying to defuse the tightly wound specialist, " in addition to being a grandmaster spy and quite the dashing rogue, I've also been a teacher for over a decade. Trust me when I say you can't force these kinds of things. They take time."
He popped the cork out of the bottle with a well practiced motion, before Winter could protest, and filled to glasses to the brim, passing her one.
" Semblances are always tricky." He said. " Some people are born with them." He gestured to himself, " Some people inherit them." He gestured to Winter, who rolled her eyes, but let him continue. " And some people have to unlock them. Now, if you're aura's smaller, and, if you unlock it when you're young, then it's a pretty straightforward process. The less you have, the easier it is to control. Some semblances require more control, and some less, of course, but the principle's the same."
" I assume you have a point you're trying to make." Winter stated.
"Right you are." Qrow said. " Some people, like you and your sister, have semblances that require almost perfect control. Others, not so much. It's impossible to tell until you have it. Also, unless you unlock it while you're young and it's tiny, controlling your entire aura takes time. Yang unlocked her's when she was 11 and it still took her four years to master her semblance. Jaune's Aura's even larger than hers, and he hadn't unlocked it until he was 17, and you expect him to have it down already?" Qrow scoffed, not noticing the look of shock on Winter's face.
" Did you say, 17? That can't be right." Winter muttered. That would mean...
" He didn't have any training what so ever until he snuck into Beacon." Qrow looked into Winter's eyes, grinning ear to ear. " What, he never told you?"
" He told you?" She asked, indignant.
"Ozpin told me, after I started asking around." Qrow said.
" He knew?" She said, incredulously. " He knew there was a student in his school with no ability to fight and he didn't do anything about it?" Her respect for the late headmaster was dipping by the second. There was no way anyone responsible, like Ironwood, would let that sort of madness, slide. Maybe Beacon had fallen for a reason.
" Oz had his reasons." Qrow replied. " Besides, it all worked out, more or less. Doesn't change the fact that you're wasting your time. If that kid ever unlocks his semblance, it'll be in years, not weeks, and we don't have the luxury of waiting for it."
"For someone who bucks heads with him so often, you seem often interest in Jaune."
" Not by choice." Qrow murmured. "But, if he's going to stick around my niece, I'm not letting him out of my sight. Besides, it's in my nature, sticking my nose in places it doesn't belong."
Winter almost laughed in spite of herself. She had suspected something was brewing between the two blondes, although Jaune didn't talk to her much about that sort of thing. It was comical to see Qrow of all people in any kind of paternal role.
" Don't you laugh at me." Qrow said mirthlessly. " How would you feel if the brat was still going after your little sister? Then, someday, you'd actually be beating on your little brother, and I'd be laughing at you." Winter looked at him quizzically. " What? Arc had a huge crush on Weiss when he first met her. You didn't know that either?"
Winter's stone cold expression confirmed that. She hated being shown up by anyone, least of all Qrow. He shouldn't know her protege better than her, he hated him.
"We're are just learning all kinds of stuff today, aren't we." Qrow said. " I wonder how Yang and Ruby will react the first time they hear the name Aunty Winter. Or Weiss."
" Never going to happen." Winter responded cooly.
Qrow grabbed his heart in mock horror. " And here I thought we had something special." He took a swig of his glass, and Winter mirrored him, drinking much more slowly, savoring the taste. 'Qrow Branwen, alcohol required.'
" The only bearable thing about this mess is that Tai is going to have a field day when he finds out." ' The shoe is finally going to be on the other foot, and it will be glorious.'
" It's not like you to leave the fun to someone else." Winter remarked casually. " If you disapprove so much, why don't you step in?"
" Semblance." Qrow said, as if no other clarification was required. When Winter indicated that he was, in fact, mistaken, he elaborated. " I'm a walking bad luck charm. The minute I get involved in their little 'relationship'," he said, pantomiming scare quotes with his fingers while reaching for the bottle again. " he'll end up getting Yang pregnant." Winter scoffed at the notion, but Qrow was deadly serious, as if he was speaking from experience. " That or Ruby will fall for him too, and I'll have another big, awful love triangle in my life that I'll have to deal with." He downed another glass of wine, shuddering at the thought. " Yeah, think I'll stay FAR away from this one."
" Don't be so dramatic." Winter responded. "Your semblance is not that bad." Qrow scowled. Suddenly, as if to prove his point, another customer stumbled right into the bar, shaking it as he crashed and causing the bottle of wine to fall straight to the ground.
" Ah'm sawwy" he slurred out, staggering to his feet as he muttered incoherently. Qrow helped him to his feet, positioning them so they obscured the bottle on the floor, hoping against hope that no one would notice it had landed up right and in tact, and that no one had noticed the glyph that had appeared on the ground, making sure it didn't spill a single drop.
" Ah th'nk ah ad too much ta dr'nk." The man murmured. He was heavy, and he kept wobbling around as Qrow tried to steady him.
After making sure the man was seated in a nice, comfy couch where he could lie off his liquor, at 1 in the afternoon, no less, Qrow made his way back to the bar. ' And people call me a drunk.'
" Do you believe me now?" Qrow said, sitting back on the table, not missing the coy expression on Winter's face as she lifted the intact bottle and waved it in front of his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry, we're you trying to prove a point? I was too busy cleaning up another one of your messes to notice."
" That's why I keep you around, Ice Queen." Certainly not for her looks or personality, or those legs...
"My eyes are up here, Branwen." She said. " What was this business about 'another' love triangle?"
Qrow's eyes lit up. " Jealous? I'm touched. Let's just say I've been around the block a few times."
Winter swatted his arm while he reached for another drink. " I've already let you have too much to drink. We need to be ready to go, soon."
" Upset? My dear, sweet, lovely Winter, you didn't honestly think this grade A piece of man meat came fully realized into the world all at once, did you?" He said, noticing the faintest of blushes on his ally's cheeks. It was hard working her up, and the signs were few and far between, but he loved doing it. " I was quite the paramour back in the day."
" I'll believe it when I see it." She said cuttingly.
The bartender tapped Winter's shoulder and she reached reflexively for her saber. Qrow wrapped his hand around her wrist, stopping her. " He's with us."
" I hate to interrupt." The man said sarcastically, " but your man is here." A man of middling height, features obscured by a wide brimmed hat and a trench coat ( it wouldn't do for a wanted criminal to strut around openly in public) walked towards the bar, then stopped in his tracks as he saw the two Hunters draw their blades.
" Showtime." Qrow muttered, gears whirring and turning in his sword.
" Get the other patrons to safety, now." Winter ordered the barkeep, eyes not leaving their target for an instant. The man nodded, before grabbing a pair of customers and pulling them behind the bar.
The man in the trench coat stared, likely deciding whether fight or flight was the better option. Unexpected, since by all accounts their target, Carib was a violent hot head, but then again she and Qrow were an intimidating pair. Before he could make up his mind, the two lunged, before the man responded in kind, catching them both off guard.