Pre-Author's Note – Yeesh, that must have been a long wait. I'm sorry about that. On top of getting a new job, Summer was kind of crazy for me. Plus, the scene with Magenta had to go through a lot of iterations before I was truly happy with the result. Again I apologize for making you, the readers, wait so long for an update. But one of my main goals as a writer is to provide quality in the work I do. If that takes a little more time and effort, then there's really nothing I can do to speed things up.

Also, congratulations to everyone who was able to figure out the inspirations for Napier and Eerie in the Reviews! For everyone else, here they are now:

Eerie – Based upon Erwin Rommel, AKA The Desert Fox. He a was general in the German army during the Second World War, renowned for his brilliant tactical use of mechanized divisions in Europe and Northern Africa. After being discovered as part of the conspiracy to assassinate Adolf Hitler, Rommel was coerced into committing suicide in 1944, with the Nazi Party saying he died from battlefield wounds in order to keep using his image in their propaganda.

Napier – Based upon Napoleon Bonaparte. In the wake of the bloody French Revolution in the early nineteenth century, Napoleon rose to power and led a series of mostly successful military campaigns all across the world. After his defeat at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, Napoleon was captured and exiled to the island of Saint Helena until his death.

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Chapter 5 – Crew and Cast


Monday – Noon

Blake didn't need her growling stomach to remind her how hungry she was. After training with Napier for an hour or so Blake had most certainly worked up an appetite, so she was looking forward to whatever Jaune had in store for lunch today.

"-and then later we can watch a movie and eats lots of popcorn and gummy worms!" Coral prattled on while she skipped around Blake.

To say the youngest Arc sibling was enamored with Blake would be putting it mildly. Apparently the only reason Blake was relieved of the young girl's presence for the morning was because Coral had promised to do most of her schoolwork before lunch. That way she was off the hook to pretty much do whatever she wanted for the rest of the day.

Primarily trying to get Blake to spend time with her for most of it.

Blake merely nodded along to Coral's itinerary. It was bizarre to have a person shower her with so much attention, mostly because she's always tried to stick to the background and away from inquisitive eyes. But to Coral, Blake might as well have been sitting up on a pedestal with a Grand-Prize ribbon hanging off her shoulders.

It was understandable really. The Arcs didn't appear to have any pets, and Coral seemed to be stuck in the unfortunate middle ground where she was too mature for other kids her age and but not old enough to really keep up with people older than her. Which is why Blake's presence came as such a blessing, because here was a person with a blank slate and a willingness to make up for her mistakes by kissing up to her hosts.

She didn't mind playing along and placating Coral's interests. Blake just wished the girl wouldn't tire her out so quickly. They hadn't even done anything on Coral's schedule yet and she already felt exhausted.

Thankfully now was lunch time in the Arc household, giving Blake a reprieve from Coral's physical antics. Not to mention Jaune's cooking did wonders to lighten one's mood. The pasta with tomato sauce and basil seasoning he made last night had been one of the best meals Blake's had in a long time.

Speaking of the chef, Blake and Coral strolled into the kitchen to find Jaune hard at work preparing all their lunches. It all appeared to be the same dishes as yesterday, and Blake could see he was flipping the frog wings in their frying pan.

Her upper lip involuntarily curled with disgust. What Napier saw in the grilled amphibian legs she would never know.

"Hey guys," the blonde greeted over his shoulder while he worked. "Lunch won't be ready for a few more minutes, so you'll just have to get comfortable and hang tight."

"That won't be a problem," Blake replied. She wanted to have some tea with her meal, and it would take a few minutes for the water to boil and for her to prepare a cup.

"Well then I want a snack," said Coral. While she filled up their electric pitcher, Blake watched as Coral stood on her tip toes to reach over the counter and grab at a bright red box with cartoon animals on the side.

"No cookies until after your meal," Jaune chastised lightly, snatching the box from Coral's grip and placing it on top of the fridge. "You don't want to ruin your appetite."

Coral crossed her arms behind her back and gave Jaune a big, bright smile. "Okay big brother!" Jaune smiled at her briefly before going back to the food.

Jaune missed it, but Blake didn't; the way Coral's fists clenched behind her back.

After a few minutes the pitcher clicked, indicating the water had boiled, so Blake set about finding a mug and a tea bag of English Breakfast. Meanwhile Coral continued to hover around Jaune and watch him work.

"Is there anything I can help with?" she asked him.

Jaune looked temporarily taken aback. Maybe the prospect of his sisters helping with preparing meals was a rare occasion.

"Sure, you can get out all the stuff for mine and Eerie's sandwiches," he offered. Coral nodded and made her way over to the fridge. And while passing by her, Coral threw a cryptic wink over to Blake.

A dark feeling passed through Blake's gut, but she chose not to act on it. She didn't want to get in the middle of whatever was brewing.

While Blake's tea steeped, Coral got out the various breads, meats, and cheeses for the sandwiches, as well a small jar of mayonnaise. Then, after making sure Jaune wasn't paying attention, too busy frying up a few pieces of fish, Coral got down on her hands and knees. She then reached into the crevice between the fridge and the lower cupboards with a single slender arm. Feeling around for a few seconds, Coral pulled out what appeared to be a second jar of mayo, this one nearly empty. She paid special attention to keeping it out of Jaune's sight.

Satisfied the food was thoroughly cooked for the moment, Jaune set the stovetop burners on low and took out a few plates. He then set about preparing the sandwiches they'd be eating soon. Coral stood close by, handing ingredients to Jaune whenever he asked for them so he didn't have to waste time getting them himself.

When Jaune asked for some mayo to add to his sandwich, Coral made a convincing display of making it look like she scooped some out of the freshly opened jar. Convincing enough to fool Jaune at least, who hadn't been paying attention. In reality, Blake saw the old jar nestled in the crook of Coral's arm, and she watched the girl use a butter knife to scoop out whatever was left at the bottom.

Blake watched this all progress in silence, too afraid of what may befall her if she spoke up. And so she could only watch as Jaune obliviously smeared the older mayo on his turkey sandwich.

The evil grin she saw on Coral's face would haunt her for months to come.

"Do you mind helping take some plates out, Blake?" Jaune spoke up. Blake snapped out of her thoughts, noting Jaune was done making their meals. She nodded, grabbing her tuna melt and Eerie's Reuben sandwich, before following after Jaune and Coral into the dining room.

On the way she subtly checked over the two meals in her hands. From what she watched Blake was fairly certain Coral only messed with Jaune's lunch, but she wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any collateral damage.

In due time everyone got their food and sat down to eat, all in the same seats as yesterday. Blake carefully watched Jaune out of the corner of her eye, waiting to see the result of whatever Coral had done to his food. But as the boy took his first few bites, Jaune made no outward reactions. He merely continued chewing and swallowing, completely unaware of any changes in his meal.

Despite Blake's inner turmoil and worry, the lunch progressed in a mostly normal fashion. There was idle chatter around mouthfuls of food, some stifled laughs and giggles. Eerie gushed to Magenta about how Blake let the girl see her weapon in more intricate detail. Napier discussed the pros and cons of various different swords with Jaune. Coral told Blake all about the activities they could do outside once the weather finally cleared up.

At one point Magenta cleared her throat and wiped a napkin over her mouth. "Oh, Jaune, I almost forgot. I wanted to thank you for finishing up the mayo and cleaning out the jar."

Jaune paused mid chew, giving his eldest younger sister a weird look. "Huh?"

"The mayonnaise," Magenta clarified. "I noticed you finished it last week and actually took the time to wash out the jar once it was empty. Normally you just let it sit festering on the counter until someone else has to clean it up. It was probably going to go bad soon anyway. So thanks for not being a lazy fool for once in your life."

"But… I never finished the old mayo jar," Jaune clarified with a frown. "I assumed someone else finished it and you cleaned it out."

Magenta cocked her head quizzically and turned to the girl sitting on Blake's left. "Napier?"

"Don't look at me, I hate mayo."

"Eerie?"

The brunette only shook her head. "Not me."

"The mayo was switched out last week, so that obviously rules out Blake. All that leaves is-"

Burbleburbleburble.

A sick and bubbly sound interrupted Magenta's train of thought, and five sets of eyes turned to the only man in the room. Jaune's complexion had taken on a rather green pallor, and he was gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles were turning white. His gaze locked onto the girl sitting to Blake's right, stone cold realization in his dark blue eyes.

"Coral…"

She held his stare unflinchingly, her words dripping with venom. "Is something wrong big brother?"

Burbleburbleburble.

His chair tumbled to the floor as the blonde shot out of it, Jaune holding both his stomach and his mouth as he sprinted to the kitchen. Not a moment after he was gone did Blake hear the boy heave, followed by the sounds of something wet and viscous being dropped. She could only hope Jaune made it to sink before he violently emptied his stomach.

Blake turned to those still gathered at the table, to see if there were going to be any repercussions for something like this. But she could only rapidly blink in shock, finding everyone had resumed their meals without a care.

"This happens more often than you might think," Magenta informed her, patently ignoring her brother's retching coming from the kitchen.

Something rustling caught her attention, and Blake turned to her right to find an open, bright red box with cartoon animals on the side being presented to her. Meanwhile Coral gave her a perfectly innocent look while she munched on the head of a giraffe.

"Animal cracker?"


Monday Afternoon

Blake smoothed her hands down the sides of her leggings, relishing the familiar feel of her tried and true outfit covering her body once more.

"It looks absolutely amazing!" she gushed whilst admiring herself in the mirror in Magenta's room. Blake had almost forgotten how pristinely white her shorts and undershirt could be when not covered in filth. At the same time her black leggings, vest, choker and arm sleeve looked incredibly sleek without the myriad of tears and scuff marks.

"I'm glad you like it." Blake turned back to Magenta, who was still sitting on her bed. She spent most of the day yesterday restoring Blake's combat outfit to its former glory. Magenta had sewn up the tears, washed out the grime, ironed out the wrinkles, and trimmed the frayed edges. Blake's outfit looked nearly as good as the day she first put it on.

"I love it," Blake emphasized. "And I can't thank you enough for doing this. For everything you've done for me since I've been here."

"You sound like a broken record," Magenta joked as she stood up from her bed. "We're more than happy to help out someone in need. Besides, in return you've acted as an excellent syphon for most of Coral's constant energy."

Blake chuckled lightly and nodded. She'd only gotten away from the youngest sister's gravitational pull because Napier promised to keep her distracted for a short time.

Just then Magenta's brow furrowed while she cupped her chin, giving Blake's attire an appraising look. "Hmmmmm… I think there's something missing."

"Really?" Blake checked over her person, trying to see if she was missing anything. "I'm pretty sure you gave everything back to me."

"I know I did, but I can't figure out why it still doesn't- wait!" Magenta snapped her fingers and pointed at Blake's head. "Your bow! I remember you were wearing it the first time I saw you on our kitchen floor."

"Oh, right." Blake toyed with the soft band of fabric adorning her right arm, her expression thoughtful. This might actually have been the longest Blake has gone without wearing her bow for quite some time. "I guess I didn't think of it, considering I don't have to wear it around the house if I don't want to. You all know I'm Faunus already, so what would be the point in hiding it?"

Magenta hugged her stomach and asked, "Do you do that sort of thing a lot? Hide the fact you're a Faunus, I mean."

"Yes," she answered rather sadly. "Most people have a habit of making snap judgments the moment they see my second set of ears. They instantly assume I'm some sort of scoundrel whose only goal to snatch their purse or wallet."

Magenta glanced from side to side nervously. "Um…"

Blake sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, already knowing what Magenta was getting at. "Yes, I am fully aware of the hypocrisy of what I just said considering where I am in life at the moment. But my point still stands; with the bow people only see me as a normal human girl, and they don't write me off the moment they meet me."

"I can't really say I understand since I'm not a Faunus," Magenta said with a frown, "but I do sort of get where you're coming from. Like I mentioned the other night, we grew up with a Faunus for an uncle. He had to grow up with a lot of that stuff trying to tear him down. Plus we do watch the news enough to know relations between humans and Faunus are a lot more tense down in the city than up here in the country."

"The news only ever scratches the surface," Blake said ruthfully. "The most they might ever cover is the occasional riot, or interviews with humans complaining about how the Faunus are stealing their jobs. What they don't tell you about are the Faunus beaten to near death in dark alleys, or how businesses use legal loopholes to make sure Faunus don't get enough wages to support themselves and their families."

It was difficult not to sound bitter when talking and human and Faunus relations. An unfortunate habit she'd picked up from Adam while he trained her.

"Why should we sugarcoat the hatred they show us?" he used to say. "If all they can show us is their anger, then we can only respond with anger of our own."

"Yeah…" Magenta looked away, her expression downcast. Blake hated how conversations always had a way of turning sour when she was around. But before she could try to apologize for her remarks, Magenta crossed the room and sat down on her bed again, giving Blake a thoughtful look. "Blake, can I ask you something kind of personal?"

"Of course." She wasn't sure why Magenta felt she had to ask for permission first, but after everything her family has done for her, Blake figured answering a few questions would be fair.

"Alright… Were you a part of the White Fang?"

…even if they were questions like that, apparently.

While Blake was fairly certain she hadn't actually said anything, the expression her face pulled must have been more than enough of an answer for Magenta.

"It just seems like the most logical explanation," Magenta went on saying. "Your Aura is unlocked, you have advanced training, as well as a mecha shifting weapon. You don't just find those kinds of things out on the streets. But at the same time you're living like a common thief, and those kinds of people don't come all the way out to small towns like ours just to find someone to rob. Not unless they're running from something."

Blake could only blink several times, stunned by how accurately Magenta just described the last few months of her life.

"Would it change anything if I was?" she asked the girl.

Magenta shrugged lamely. "Not really. The thought occurred to me yesterday, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. At first it worried me, the realization of a White Fang member being in our house. But then I figured you had every chance to sneakily find your weapon and get the jump on us over the last couple days, and not once did you actually take advantage of that. So the only conclusion I come to is you're nothing like the White Fang members we're warned about on the news, and you're on the run from your old life."

"You are incredibly perceptive," Blake said with a bit of awe. "To figure all of this out after only knowing someone for a couple of days."

"What can I say? Sometimes I get a little OCD about trying to figure stuff out."

Blake nodded in understanding. Inwardly she was fighting off the urge to simply leave Magenta hanging and go off in search of another Arc sibling to occupy herself with, one who wouldn't question her past with such fervor. Of course that would only be the coward's way out, and if she ran then she'd only confirm what Magenta already suspected.

Instead, Blake slowly crossed the room to sit down on the bed next to Magenta. To her silent relief the violet haired girl didn't recoil from her presence, only patiently waiting for Blake's reply.

"I was a part of the White Fang," Blake confirmed quietly, wringing her hands in her lap. "For so long that I was practically born into it. And up until a few months ago, the White Fang was pretty much the only family I had."

"Up until you left," Magenta inferred. "You must have been with them long enough to have seen what they were like before they turned to extremism."

Blake nodded and said, "Everyone knows how the White Fang started out. How after The Revolution they were created as an organization to help bridge the gap between human and Faunus kind, to foster unity. As a little girl looking for acceptance and a way to make the world better, I couldn't help being pulled in."

"There's nothing wrong with goals like those," Magenta told her with a sympathetic smile. It only had the opposite effect, causing Blake to glance away because of her disgust with herself. Yes, they started out as such noble goals. And look at how easily perverted they were over time…

"It wasn't working," Blake confessed, not unkindly but with a hard edge to her words. "Our end goal was equality for all, but none of our means were effective. Not the protests, or the rallies, or the boycotts; none of it. The humans still treated us like dirt and there was nothing we could do to stop them. But then five years ago, our old leader stepped down, making way for a new leader with a new mentality."

And oh how she yelled in that old leader's face, accused him of being a coward and an old fool. He just sat there and took it, enduring the verbal abuse from one of the only two people in the world who could talk to him in such a manner.

Recalling that memory, remembering the man's face as she insulted him, filled Blake with such self-revulsion it almost made her want to throw up.

"Shortly afterward, every able bodied White Fang member began training," Blake continued, more to distract herself than anything. "For most it was typical military style training and tactics. For others, like me, we started with an advanced regimen focused on fine honing our Semblances and training with specialized weaponry. The sorts of things you'd expect to learn if you were a Hunter in training."

"I remember hearing about the change in leadership all those years ago," Magenta recalled, idly swinging her feet. "Believe it or not I actually supported the White Fang, before they changed. I admired the Faunus for trying to change the world without having to resort to violence. But I could never understand why Uncle Tiberius didn't want to join. All he'd ever say was, 'Movements like those always go down the wrong paths.'"

"Then your uncle was quite prophetic," Blake observed. "Because after our new leader came to power, we didn't hold protests or peaceful gatherings anymore. Instead we organized attacks on businesses that discriminated the Faunus, or looted trains belonging to companies that exploited Faunus workers. Our peace movement turned into a war, and we were more than willing to make up for our past mistakes."

"But violence only begets violence," Magenta argued crossly. "Surely they understood by lashing out so aggressively all they'd end up doing was damaging their own movement's reputation?"

"Then how do you explain the fact that it worked?" Blake asked her. Magenta only looked away, silently fuming because she knew Blake was right. "In a very short time the standing for Faunus everywhere began to rise. We were openly mocked in the streets less and less. Businesses started opening up their doors to us more and more. The humans began to finally treat us with respect. But it wasn't because they respected us; it was because they feared us."

Blake stared at the purple carpeting between her feet. Talking about this made bile rise up in the back of her throat. She used to talk about the White Fang with pride. Now it only left a rancid feeling in her gut.

"It's why I stayed for so long after the changes," she continued solemnly. "How I reasoned away the guilt. Why worry over a few people being roughed up or a few windows broken if it meant the humans would stop treating us so badly."

"The end justifies the means if the means really aren't all that bad," Magenta inferred. While the tone of her voice certainly indicated she didn't agree with Blake's viewpoint, it wasn't beyond comprehension for her. "But at what point does the end stop being enough justification?"

"When you finally realize you've crossed the line from freedom fighter to terrorist," Blake answered. "In the beginning, casualties were supposed to be kept to a minimum. Never hesitate to defend yourself, but try to avoid killing anyone because we're not mindless butchers. But over time those restrictions mattered less and less. Other members I once called my friends stopped caring about the lives they took, because they simply thought it was easier to kill guards than to knock them out.

"Once I started to realize how low we'd fallen in that regard, I also started to see how everything else was escalating too. Shops weren't just ransacked anymore; they were burned to the ground. We went from looting Schnee Dust shipments to altogether blowing them up, damn whatever or whoever else got caught in the explosion. I looked back on everything we built, and I realized I was standing on nothing more than a mountain of ash and bodies."

A slender hand gripped hers suddenly, quelling the trembling Blake hadn't even realized had taken hold of her limbs. Slowly she eased the tension in her hands, so her nails wouldn't dig into her palms anymore. Blake looked to Magenta, seeing nothing but resolve in the girl's gaze.

"But you left," Magenta repeated once more. "You realized how horrible it had all become, so you decided to be better than it. You didn't let the murderers and terrorists drag you down to their level, and now you're better than they'll ever be."

"Am I though?" Blake asked balefully. "I saw the way the White Fang degraded over the years, but I didn't try to fix what I'd help create from within. No, instead I ran because I couldn't face them anymore. I ran with the hopes of finding a new path that would help me repair the damage I'd done. But all I've accomplished since then was feed into the stereotypes that make the humans hate us, which in turn only fuels the fires that created the White Fang."

"Could you please stop talking like that?" her friend asked, her brow knitted together with anguish. "Please, with how you're talking you make it sound like you hate yourself more than the terrorist organization." Blake didn't answer, only staring at the hand resting atop her own.

Did she really hate herself? Blake wondered if the fact she couldn't instantaneously come up with a 'no' answer was telling enough. She certainly wasn't happy with herself, that was for damn sure.

First she turned her back on the people who raised her, chose a guerrilla force over her own family. Then she turned her back on them too, the Faunus who did horrible things to humans as a means of getting even.

After that she preyed upon others like a criminal in order to keep herself alive. Roped good people like the Arcs into her problems. For the last few months she has done absolutely nothing but leech off of society without giving anything back. Why shouldn't she hate herself then? Why shouldn't Blake be disgusted with everything she's done?

The bed shifted as Magenta sidled closer, looping her arm around Blake's shoulder. For her part Blake didn't shy away, nor did she lean into what was supposed to be a comforting embrace. Blake wasn't sure she even wanted the comfort.

"Look, I won't lie and say I have all the answers," Magenta told her. "But even I know all this wallowing won't help anything."

"I'm not trying to wallow," Blake countered weakly. "Personally I'd have preferred you never realized my past during my stay. It's painful to dredge up old memories."

"I can imagine. But like you said, they're memories; as in what happened in the past is going to stay there. Nothing can change it, but nothing it can do can change what's happening now."

"And what is happening now?" Blake wanted to know.

Magenta pondered the implications for a moment. "Well, what I see is a girl with a good heart but a less than ideal dice roll in the great game of life. But you don't have to let that define you. With all the skills you know, there's all kinds of careers you can work toward! Have you ever thought about being a Huntress?"

It wasn't hard to notice the way Blake winced. "I have, but that path isn't open to me anymore. Doubly so for anything in the military or private contractors. They'd sooner lock me in a cell if they found out who I used to work with."

Before Magenta could suggest another idea, Blake sighed loudly and pushed herself off the bed. She turned back to the girl and said, "Look, Magenta, I get what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it. But the fact of the matter is there really isn't much you can do to help me. You aren't going to have some grand realization that I haven't already thought of. More importantly, it isn't your job to worry some runaway Faunus."

"It's my job to worry about anyone who's in trouble," Magenta countered. "It should be everyone's problem! None of the problems we have today would have ever even gotten started if everyone just knew to respect one another and look out for each other."

"While you have quite the altruistic outlook on the world, it's a woefully naïve one that would never come to pass." The words stung and she knew it, but Blake had no other way to break the news to Magenta. "You and your siblings might have had exceptional parents who taught you the difference between right and wrong, but not everyone else had that as well. Some are born into poverty, and they grow up to hate the society pushing them down. Some are born into great wealth, but their fortune makes them callous and indifferent to the plights of other. And some are just like you, born into a loving family, but no amount of familial warmth can change the fact they're just cold inside."

Magenta gave her a sharp look, obviously wondering if Blake was talking about the sister she thought she was talking about.

"The how do we change that?" the girl asked seriously. "How do we teach the world to let go of its angers and begin moving past them?"

Despite how much she didn't want it to, a memory of Adam Taurus floated through her mind. She remembered the way he held himself, the way he always seemed to be coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. And she knew why. He always expected some human assassin to be waiting just around the corner, or hiding in the bushes. The paranoia led him to believe Atlas soldiers could always make a surprise attack at any time.

He never told her why he hated humans so much. Sure, he'd give the same kinds of spiels the White Fang recruiters did about how the humans repressed them, but Blake knew he never told her the full story. What it was they did to him that left him so deeply disturbed. What happened to him before they met so many years ago.

Adam didn't just hate the Schnees, or the Atlas military, or the governments of the cities. He hated humanity. He hated anyone and everyone who didn't have a second set of ears, or claws on their hands, or tails. If he saw a human, Adam could feel nothing but anger and resentment toward them for the sheer reason of even existing.

How could you fix someone like Adam? How could you tell someone whose anger was a part of their very being to simply put it aside and start making peace with the people they warred against for long? How did you explain to someone their goals and behaviors were inherently self-destructive, and the only way to save themselves was to… defy their very nature?

She's thought long and hard about these questions, before and after she left the Fang. And every time Blake thought she was close to an answer, she need only remember Adam and his anger.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. She doubted she could come up with an answer even if given a thousand years to contemplate the question.

Magenta's head hung low, mulling over the info-bomb Blake just dropped on her.

"I'm sorry," Blake offered. "I didn't mean to drag you into such a depressing conversation."

"No, please, you're fine." The girl flashed her a grin, albeit one that was a little forced. "I'm the one who asked you first. Besides, we got off topic anyway. The fact of the matter is you were in the White Fang but you left a long time before ever coming to our house. So there's nothing to worry about."

"Are you going to tell Jaune, or any of your sisters?"

"Only if they ask. It's not that big of a deal. My sisters are head over heels for you so I doubt they'd care. Jaune might worry, but he'd come around if you tell him what you told me."

Blake breathed a silent sigh of relief. No matter how long her stay might be, it would doubtless be so much more awkward if her hosts were constantly watching their backs while she was around.

If the conversation had anywhere else to go, they unfortunately never got to see it. Not with a young voice calling out, "Blaaa-aaaake!"

The two girls both huffed a small laugh, recognizing Coral's voice calling out for her new best friend. Obviously Napier's diversion tactics could only last for so long.

"I should probably go to her before she tears down the house looking for me," Blake suggested, earning another laugh from Magenta. "Look, I know I said some stuff you really don't agree with. If there's anything I can do or…"

"You don't have to worry about me." She watched as the girl sprawled herself over her bed, hands folded behind her head as she stared at the ceiling, a thoughtful expression on her face. "These problems have been around for a long time. It's like you said; a couple of teenage girls aren't going to suddenly come up with the answer to fix everything. I think I wanna just, ya'know, be alone and think for a while."

"Alright, but just remember I'll be around if you need anything."

Magenta hummed a noncommittal answer, so Blake took it as her cue to leave the girl alone. Stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door behind her, it only took a moment for Coral to spot the Faunus and hone in on her.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, skipping over to Blake. "Wow, you look really pretty when your clothes are all cleaned up."

"Well aren't you sweet," Blake said with a saccharine smile. If a little bit of a suck up.

Coral paused, practically mirroring her older sister from earlier as she gave Blake's attire an appraising look. "I think there's something missing."

"My bow?" Blake guessed.

"No, your bow looked dumb," Coral stated as if it were a cold hard fact. After a moment the little girl shrugged in indifference. "Eh, it's not that important. Come on, I want to show you my autograph book. It has all the signatures from our local council members!"

"Uh, okay?" She could do little more than agree and allow herself to be dragged through the house by a child only half her size.

As they went, Blake cast one more glance back at Magenta's room. She hoped she hadn't seriously bruised the pacifist's pride by telling her the truth. But something told Blake the girl was stronger than she looked, so she was confidant Magenta wouldn't let anything drag down her moral aspirations.


Monday Evening

The girl in the photo had olive toned skin, light blue eyes, and dark blue hair cut short at ear height. She looked tall for a woman, as well as being stacked with muscle.

She only wore armor in the sense that she had clothes covering the more sensitive areas of her body. Sandals adorned her feet, and brown leather pads were attached to her shins. The skirt she wore consisted of straps of blue cloth that flowed down from the waist band and a rounded triangular piece of navy dyed leather hanging down from her midriff. Blake guessed it served more to protect the girl's modesty than her person. Above that all she wore was a simple tube top covering her chest, adorned with some sort of faux animal fur. Despite the lack of physical protection, the outfit did wonders to show off her rippling abs and bulging biceps. And on her head she wore a tiara that had a single, tall, white with blue stripes feather pointing upward before curving back toward her head.

In her hands she held two pieces of gear. The right gripped an Iklwa style spear. Though mechanized, it was an older model devoid of any firearm capabilities. The handle frame consisted of blue and black parts, while the steel bladed parts at the end glinted in the sunlight. In the woman's left hand she held a small buckler shield, which followed the same color scheme as her weapon. Blake could see the shield was also mechanized, so she theorized it could actually expand its shape to cover more area.

"So this is Sapphire, huh?" Blake asked as she put the framed picture back on the living room shelf where she found it. The woman presented quite the intimidating figure, even if it was only through a camera lens.

"Yeah," Coral muttered offhandedly, who was crouched down as she perused the selection of videos on the lowest shelf. Apparently all the siblings had agreed Monday night would be Movie Night, so Coral and Blake were searching through the Arc's video collection for a suitable selection.

Coral glanced up at the picture before going back to her work. "That picture was taken earlier this year, while Sapphire was back home for summer break."

"It certainly looks like all that training has paid off for her," Blake commented. "I wouldn't want to face her on the battlefield." Guards and Atlas mechs were one thing, as they were usually rather simple to deal with. Trained Hunters were far more troublesome to simply escape from, much less actually fight.

"That would make two of us," a masculine voice responded, and Blake didn't have to turn around to know Jaune had joined them. He came up to the shelf and went on, "Find anything good yet?"

"I'm afraid I don't watch a lot of movies," Blake confessed. "They're usually too flashy for me, so I just tend to stick to books."

"Would you be open to one of those movies that's based off of a book?" Jaune offered. "Or are you one of those snobs who'll just complain about all the stuff they changed or cut out?"

The look he received was all Jaune needed as an answer.

"How about this one?" Coral asked, holding up one such video in its case.

Not turning away from the shelf, Jaune answered, "We are not watching The Four Kingdoms: Building a Global Economy documentary again."

"You didn't even look at what I picked!"

"Is it The Four Kingdoms: Building a Global Economy?"

"…no." The way she said the answer very clearly conveyed an opposite sentiment.

"Well just pick something!" Magenta complained as she entered the room, followed by Napier and Eerie, all of whom brought with them an assortment of snacks and drinks. "The popcorn's still warm and I don't want to waste time picking a movie."

Nice to see she's back to normal, Blake noted wryly.

"Don't worry, I had a plan for this," Jaune assured everyone. Judging from their collective looks, the sisters didn't look very reassured.

Tapping video cases as he search, Jaune rattled off, "There needs to be a minimum of violence so Magenta doesn't get cross. The humor needs to be more than fart jokes and puns because Napier's so sophisticated. It can't get any information about computers or machines wrong or else Eerie won't shut up about it for the entire movie. It can't be animated or else Coral will complain that we're trying to force childhish stereotypes onto her and threaten to bring in lawyers. Plus I'm assuming Blake doesn't want to watch flic where they use a Faunus as a bad guy."

"Sure, why not," Blake acquiesced. She actually didn't mind if Faunus characters were portrayed as being antagonists in some way, but only if it was done well. Which it usually wasn't.

"And I of course have my love my happy endings where the nice guy gets the cute girl," Jaune concluded. "Which essentially only leaves us with one option!" With far more flourish than what was necessary, Jaune whipped out a movie and presented it to them all.

"Mean Girls?" Blake read the title aloud.

"Of course! It's funny but in the kind of way that pokes fun at common stereotypes and sort of gets the audience to laugh at itself. But it's also relatable and provides several relevant lessons that the viewer can walk away with and apply to their own lives. All provided through a well written story with Grade A actors and actresses."

"You only like this movie because it had Lilac Lohan while she was still hot," Magenta accused.

"You won't see me denying it."

Several verbal slings and eye rolls later, everyone finally settled in to watch the movie as it began to play. Blake got one end of the couch, with Coral snuggled into her side while she munched on gummy bears. Magenta and Eerie joined them on the couch, both wrapped up in blankets. Jaune took the lounge chair, though he was forced to share it as Napier draped herself across his lap, using a pillow to prop herself up on the hand rest. Given the way Jaune squirmed and Napier grinned, the girl knew full well she was being a nuisance to her older brother and couldn't care in the slightest.

It was the quintessential familial scene. A gaggle of siblings and their house guest, wrapped up in covers, surrounded by unhealthy foods, all together watching a story where all of life's major problems could be wrapped up in a two hour time table. Blake hugged Coral closer, relishing the feeling of bliss and homely comfort.

Such a nice feeling, not having to constantly be on the run or agonizing over how much longer you could last on the money you have left.

Too bad she'd have to leave tomorrow.