This is test, I can tell...
'Time does not just make fools. It also makes geniuses.
'Time takes whatever there is and distills it to its base. Only the most fundamental aspects will survive this ultimate test. Desire, greed, hunger, lust, vengeance. A man will become what he most dreads because his fears are stronger than the things he holds dear.
'Any imperfection is exposed under the scrutiny of time. If there is a crack in the defense, it will eventually crumble. A mistake in weft will propagate outwards until the cloth is ruined. Thoughtless words will delude generations who misinterpret and misunderstand the intent.
'When all the pretense and uselessness is stripped away, this is true perfection. Time is the ultimate sculptor, removing everything that does not belong and leaving only the one, eternal masterpiece.'
The perfect crimson dipyramid sat there in testament to this immutability, unmoving and unblinking in the darkness of backstage. Chaos fomented just under the surface, just beyond the velvet curtain. But it might as well have been a world apart, one rapidly fading into obsolescence.
"Fascinating." At last Roman blinked, breaking whatever spell he'd been under. "I'm still not letting you turn me into your puppet. Not that I ain't one already…" There was no need to whisper as the cheering had become almost deafening, stained by an iron bloodlust that could be tasted in the stale air of the warehouse.
Besides, both of them already knew he was trapped.
"Hey, Torchwick, who the fuck you talkin' to?"
No doubt the brutish beast could see him clearly huddled in the back corner of the stage, but all Roman knew was the menacing silhouette with horns like the devil at his back.
"Just rehearsing some lines before the big debut. I'm sure even someone like you had to do some school plays back when you were a little calf- though maybe you never got any speaking roles. I never saw a school play with a speaking boulder."
Hot breath licked Roman's face from the man's snort, which also did little to oppose his bullish features.
"I doubt they'd let you anywhere near a school, Scum." The White Fang's Lieutenant's mask did nothing to hide his sneer.
"Probably for the best, eh?
There was no reason for Torchwick to hide his cocky smile because there was no one who could guess the irony. Not even Cinder knew of his scheme, and it would stay that way until it was too late.
'It is already too late. Your world is crumbling, and there is nothing you can do about it.'
"I'll take that under advisement…" Grumbling at the one person who did know, Roman pulled his bowler at a jaunty tilt at the same time he slipped the crystal into the hat band.
"Quit dragging, you're up!" The big Faunus practically pulled him into the spotlight with his gravity.
"Right now though, it's showtime!"
"Setting the stage, huh? Still… that's a lot of explosives… *Sniff*."
There was no need for Winter to acknowledge this remark, doing so would be to show weakness. She'd have to admit that she'd been otherwise unable to find him in his lodgings or elsewhere. Besides, there was no need. The obnoxious sniffle was all she needed to hear to picture that ruddy face partly shrouded by fragrant vapor.
"The upper soil is still frozen, and beneath that is nothing but pure granite. I suppose it would take a lot if they want to get started right away." Though it sounded like an idle comment, there was something at last to prompt a response from Winter.
"Dust is a critical part of our existence." She stated mechanically as she watched the pallets of plastic charge be lowered via a winch onto a waiting flatbed truck. "The thickness of the rock won't change in a matter of weeks, so there is no sense in wasting time."
"I guess not."
Even though she knew it was coming in the long pause leading up to it, the prolonged sip still grated on her nerves and she matched it with an equally long-suffering sigh.
"Alright. I'll bite. Why are you here? Surely this isn't the only interesting thing on this island."
She was only there because she was head of security, and there was enough non-dust propellant there to level a town like Patch. And despite his quirks, she didn't take this man Basayev as a pyromaniac.
"It's one of life's great mysteries, isn't it?" Instead of running for the hills, he took the low road. "Why are we here? I mean, are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is there really a God watching everything?"
Though he had been steadily becoming acclimated to the cold, the icy gaze Winter shot over her shoulder could have frozen the scalding drink in his hands. He really didn't want to offend the woman any more than he already had, so he answered as truthfully as he could.
"…*Sniff* I'm waiting. I was hoping that Dr. Ooblek would send me some supplies I requested. But so far all I see is piles of Hexogen."
"What kind of supplies?" Asking cautiously, as if she might scare him away after finally coaxing an answer out of the cracks.
"Books mainly. Have to do something while I'm waiting." Not wanting to seem guarded himself, Bruno shot back a quick gulp from his mug. After that, he once more had to fight his rebelling body as it tried to divert the awful stuff from his stomach to his lungs. "*Cough, Cough*-And maybe- *Cough* some coffee that doesn't try to kill me!"
Winter smirked at him, though not necessarily in a cruel way. It was the expression one gave a green recruit who was just beginning to appreciate 'the Suck' that everyone else had to go through. It was commiseration, and it was a start.
"Um, Mr. Basayev?" The call was almost lost amidst the shouts tossed back and forth from the docks to the deck of the ship. A box trundled towards them on two spindly legs, blindly weaving in and out of heavy machinery working all around. "I think this package is for you. It's -uh- it's from a Mr. Ozpin…"
Without a word but with a gleefulness she'd not seen on anyone since arriving, Basayev practically skipped towards the overwhelmed courier as if it were Christmas morn. The warning labels on the box declaring: "Fragile" were but festive decorations, and the two antlers on the boy's waiflike frame only added to the illusion.
"Here, here, let me help you with tha-"
Before he could reach the Faunus deckhand, before he could even complete the thought, there was a crack which pierced the busy din and the young lad spilled forward. As ancient as it was, the dock's rotten planks had given way under the strain and the boy's feet, and he crashed through the splinters.
It all happened quicker than anyone could react, the lad himself only having time for a plaintiff squeak. Faster than this, Bruno lunged at the precious cargo before it could hit the ground, as if the unassuming cardboard contained the real explosives and not the reinforced pallets stacked up behind.
Book spines cracked with a horribly dull thrum against the wooden docks as they spilled forth from the ruined cardboard. There was a moment when the whole world seemed to pause, and one could listen to the laments of a peaceful morning which sounded like pages flapping in the breeze.
"You alright?" Not a large man by any means, one of Basayev's arms almost fully encircled the boy's waist as he held him above the jagged pit. Even then, it was a little awkward with just how gangly the lad was and how Bruno had to spread his legs wide over the hole.
"Easy now," Carelessly tossing his mug to the side, he twisted around and scooped the now free arm underneath the Faunus' legs, maneuvering them around the wood fragmented like punji traps. He wanted to set the boy down on his own, but his shaking legs didn't seem to want to support him.
"I-I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" Grasping the nearby railing, the Faunus boy looked at the mess and felt the bottom drop out underneath him once again. There was no way he wasn't getting beaten for this mistake.
"Are you bleeding?" But Basayev seemed to ignore it, at least until he made sure there were no obvious gaffs or gashes on the boy's bare legs. Only when this was done did he dare assess the damage.
"Don't worry kid. They're only books," Even when saying this, he looked upon the scattered pile dejectedly. Gilded covers had been torn and velum pages bent at horrid angles in this death assemblage, and he grieved silently for these clearly ancient texts. "They're only books…"
The rest of the world picked up as Bruno shuffled over to do the same for the pile of texts, ignoring the stares and even the continued moaning from the Faunus boy. The box was patched up with a ruthless application of duct tape, but the books were placed back one by one with a certain reverence. It would clearly take a while, but Basayev wasn't about to move even as the dock workers swam around him in their haste.
Before she knew what she was doing, Winter was helping him. Maybe as penance for being too slow, though it could have also been an opportunity to see what the man considered so important.
It wasn't her eyes but her feelings which stopped upon a certain volume.
"This is a dead language," And that was all she knew about the tome in her hands. She had paused when she saw the sweeping pictograms embossed on the cover and spread throughout the entire text. "You know how to read it?"
"A little." He held out his arm expectantly, and she realized that it was the last one. "Just enough to be dangerous."
With both their hands on the volume she looked at him, seeing no trace of the teasing smile before.
"…No coffee?"
One corner of his mouth twisted wryly, and he traded her the book for a vacuum-sealed brown package which Winter found much more interesting and understandable.
"This is a Central Vacuo Blend." Winter stated almost astounded, as if she were holding something of equal value. "You can't use it in a regular machine, can you?"
"Nope,"
"I'm afraid it will do me little good then, seeing as we don't have anything else in the barracks."
"In that case," As Basayev squatted to pick up the repaired box, she tossed the package on top before he could fully stand. "Stop by some time and I'll show you how to brew it. I suppose I owe you a cup."
"You'd have to tell me where you've been staying, since no one's seen you at your lodgings since the first day."
"Traded it for one near the edge. I don't like big spaces, they make me feel uncomfortable." Where the conversation was headed did too, and he started to walk away.
"They're easier to defend as well." With her significantly longer legs, all it took was a few strides to catch up to his admittedly quick pace. "You'll have to show me which one it is on the ride back." He stopped, and though she couldn't see his face because of the cardboard, he was easy enough to read. "…Unless you prefer to walk all the way back with that box."
He almost did. Having paced it out on the way down, he knew he could probably do it, but…
"…I'm really hoping this doesn't become a routine. I don't like owing favors."
"You won't, depending on how good the coffee is." With one victory under her belt, Winter smugly headed to where she had parked earlier, leaving Bruno to stew.
And when mulling things over, he turned to look at the piles of boxes which were being moved almost as soon as they had been unloaded. Seeing the incident earlier, now no one trusted the dock's integrity and people scrambled to get them on shore or into the caravan of trucks which raced back and forth up the winding dirt road.
"…That's a lot of explosives." Despite their efforts, the pile hardly seemed to go down and the ship bobbed on the ocean in weightlessness.
"… I'm sure they won't miss a little bit."
There was a buzz in her pocket and she abruptly stopped in the middle of the hallway. Pulse on her thigh so much like the straining of muscles that she might have missed it, except that she had been expecting the message. She ducked under an archway to answer it, heedless of the students who eyed her questionably on their way to class. Her own would be waiting for her.
It was from Koharu. She was still locked in the tower, but could reach out anywhere there was a cellular signal.
'Update from Basayev. He writes: "I appreciate the books, they answered some of my questions. Though with all the fog, it is still difficult to see the forest through the trees. Tell the Doctor thanks for the coffee, not sure how much time I'll have to enjoy it."'
The message was meant for Ozpin, but she understood it well enough to pass on the distilled version. The headmaster was too busy preparing. It was going to be another long night.
She sent out a quick confirmation and looked up at the sun streaming through one of the windows high overhead. It had started as such a nice morning.
"Goodwitch!"
It never surprised her how quickly it could be turned.
"Mr. Winchester. You are supposed to be in class." If only this issue could also be dealt with remotely, or delegated, outsourced to a faraway land. But she was where the buck stopped. "A student is expected to demonstrate patience. I had to respond to an important message and will be there in just a minute."
"Patience?!" The redhead stormed, stomping up to the teacher but feeling the wind leave his sails halfway there, robbed by the emptiness of Glynda's stare. "I've been patient for months now! Every time I try to talk to either you or Ozpin I keep getting put off for 'something more important'. You wanna tell me that's what this is too?!"
"Yes." Glynda stated unwavering. "I'm sorry if I don't have much time for a teenager who got his feelings hurt."
"He stabbed me!"
"-And you healed. Both your punishments have been served. You are a huntsman in training. As far as the school is concerned, the matter is dropped. Grudges or vendettas, however, are not tolerated and are marked on the record for mental unsuitability."
"Me! The psycho?! I seem to be the only sane one here!"
"Do your teammates agree with this consensus?"
"No, but my father does!"
Where most professional huntsman would regard this threat and cower in fear of the infamous politician, Glynda was not so easily intimidated. Slight and fair as a child, she had grown into a fearsome woman who would never be bullied by man or beast. Though what made her indispensable and inescapable as Ozpin's right hand wasn't so much her prowess on the battlefield as it was the courtroom. Her nature to be direct was only outdone by her propensity for organization and regulation, a combination which made her a formidable political opponent. Ozpin confessed after an especially demoralizing defeat at poker that she could be running Beacon if she so desired.
That said, she really didn't want to deal with this.
"Fine. We're talking now. What is it you want? Make it quick, we both have class."
"Expel Jaune."
"No." Flat out in so blunt a voice that Cardin would have been knocked off his feet if he hadn't been leaning forward in earnest. "Unless there is an unignorable problem, only the Headmaster can make that decision and you will not bother him with this."
"There is a problem! Jaune's fucking nuts, always talking to himself when he thinks no one's looking. And he's out there every day killing himself with exercise- I've seen it! It's only a matter of time before he thinks to kill one of us."
"This is nonsense." Pretending they were talking about a different student made the declaration easier. Glynda held her own misgivings about the Headmaster's choice with the Arc boy but would stand by them, knowing the truth to the matter. "Mr. Arc has fought against all your teammates without issue. Your fears are unjustified, and you are wasting both our times."
"No-! I-"
"-If the next words out of your mouth are without merit, I will have you spend the next month with Dr. Ooblek learning how to cite your sources."
Cardin's mouth would not have clamped neither so firmly nor so fast if Glynda herself had closed it with her Semblance. His face twisted and contorted as it chewed through thoughts thick with vitriol, at last daring to open when he'd shoved most of the volatile emotions to the back of his throat.
"Let me fight him."
"Excuse me?"
"In class, with you proctoring. Let me fight him, and I'll prove it to you."
Doing well to hide it from his peers and even himself, never would Cardin admit that he was now slightly phobic of that weakling. But it wouldn't hurt to have someone like Glynda watching while he extracted some well-deserved justice, just in case.
"Fine."
"Fine?"
"Fine," Rolling her eyes, Glynda reminded her pupil that she was never under any pressure as she easily pushed past his hulking mass. "I was only keeping you two apart because you seemed so shaken up after the incident. If you want to spar against Jaune, all you had to do was ask."
Somehow this acceptance proved worse than further denial, an abrupt stop, flat against a wall of his own making. All he had to do was turn around and look at himself, but the only thing which shifted was lingering anger as it churned and roiled in his stomach, boiling his blood and hiding the truth behind a smokescreen of hate.
"Don't be late to class." Glynda called from down the hallway, already opening the door to the arena.
"Do we have any volunteers for the next round?"
A shallow nod acknowledged Cardin's bid, coming just shortly after his hand and before his body leapt out of the seat towards the locker room. Hardly anyone noticed his acceptance, let alone eagerness. The students were either busy gabbing amongst themselves or had their eyes glued up in expectant routine.
Glynda, meanwhile, kept glancing between her tablet and the stands in indecision. She was unsure if she should placate the captain of team CRDL or teach him a lesson in rank. This was an Ozpin type of issue, and one reason she had turned him down that drunken night.
It was Pyrrha who made the decision for her.
"Mr. Arc."
The hand which she had been raising quickly fell, dragging down a pall of silence in the room. Everyone was either looking at Jaune or trying to understand the catalyst for the sudden shift in atmosphere.
"Mr. Arc?" Everyone but Jaune himself who seemed blind to it all. "Jaune Arc!"
"Huh?" Jaune sat up, blinking the fog out of his eyes and instantly seemed to become aware of the situation as if it was happening to someone else. "Uh, right."
As Jaune passed on his way to the locker room, Glynda caught his arm, "Focus on your fight, Jaune. And nothing else."
He nodded stiffly but it did little to ease her conscience, not least because she had also managed to catch his partner's eye which continued to hold her as they waited for the combatants to return.
"Are the fighters ready?"
Clear that Jaune was not despite his polished armor, and that Cardin was much too antsy with the handle of his mace twisting in his grip. It was an imbalance, but the only way for things to move forward.
"Begin!"
There was no voice barking at Jaune to tell him to get out of the way of the fast approaching danger, so he would have to make do with his own which sounded feeble, more like a suggestion. It would soon be overcome by Cardin's quaking blow as it hammered into the ground next to his feet.
"Let's see… A one on one, direct fight. No chance for a sneak attack. He's bigger than me, but he's also sloppy." Thoughts plucked from somewhere else were transplanted into his head as he did like Glynda said and concentrated on nothing else but the fight. "You can still do this, Jaune. You must."
The second strike Cardin missed was his opportunity. Feeling no more afraid of the spiked weapon than the teeth of a Beowulf, he ducked and lunged at the gap in his opponent's armor exposed by the extended swing. A foreign voice whispered to him coldly, telling him to make his blow count. It guided his hand to that fleshy part under the arm leading directly to the heart.
*Clang!*
The thought came to him too slow. Cardin dropped his elbow and knocked the blow off course, forcing Jaune to skate back and throw up his shield against a hastily formed follow-on thrust. It still rattled his bones and settled him into the reality in which he hadn't practiced any with his shield. He needed to reset, to regain distance and thus his advantage, but Cardin wasn't going to let him.
It wasn't a Beowulf he was fighting, but it might as well be with the way the other team leader kept on with his berserk onslaught. Theoretically all it would take would be another wild attack- of which there seemed to be plenty. But first he had to get out of the corner he found himself in.
Weathering another blow uncomfortably on his shield, Jaune then used it to check past the older boy which only worked because Cardin was systematically unbalanced. Not dwelling on this depreciating thought or the back foot for long, Jaune spun and slashed at the other teen's lumbar and watched him stumble. Forced to curse himself, Jaune knew he should have aimed for the bared hamstring instead of the armored torso.
But neither were stopping much to think, which was probably for the best. If he did, Jaune might have realized he was still scared. No matter how common they were or weak they seemed, a Beowulf was a fearsome beast and would always be in his mind. Every step he took in this new life scared him, but he had learned to ignore this voice in favor of the one urging him onwards, commanding that next strike.
He danced out of the way of another sloppy strike but seemed unable to capitalize on it besides a quick peck at the other boy's armor. There was nothing driving his own attacks and they came out weak. He could see that Cardin was angry, and he tried to use that energy. Cardin was a bully, but not his bully. Just another person who wanted to hammer him down a peg or two.
Jaune's real bully was inside, as was the real fight.
"Come on! He's practically handing this fight to you, why can't you do anything?!"
The weight of his shield was holding back his full mobility with Crocea Mors, but he daren't drop it for being without something to put between him and the brute. He could practically hear the chants of cowardice but didn't care about them. Snickers of ineptitude however…
"Grraah!"
Guttural cry in place of derision as he heaved the blow once more against Jaune's shield. It was clear Cardin was becoming more frustrated with each passing moment, just as much as Jaune was. As if this match were not a simple spar, just as scared of losing.
When this comparison blinked through his head, Jaune paused- to his detriment as Cardin swung another heavy two-handed blow at his side, not even trying to avoid Jaune's shield but plowing through it. It worked, as his already numb arm wormed its way out of the leather strap without his notice. Jaune's attention was elsewhere on his opponent.
"He's… scared?"
Fighting most ferociously when there was no other option, human choice always came down to the dichotomy of fight or flight. Jaune and Cardin were the same in this respect, just two sides of the same, grimy coin.
"We're both pathetic."
Accepting this, moments before the metal wrecking ball splattered his brains, Jaune dropped under the mad swing and imbued his own rage into a horizontal slash. No one had expected the power behind the strike which bruised more than Cardin's ego as the blunt force reverberated under his armor. Quantified on the screen above them, Cardin's Aura dropped a few decimals beside Jaune's.
Both arms balanced in ache, Jaune collected his shield and charged at the other boy who was still trying to collect himself.
"Then… what's really the difference?"
From that point on the fight was visibly even. Jaune was faster than he had been- stronger too, no one would deny. There was still a sense that he was struggling to control his body as Cardin was struggling to control his emotions. That, and while the training had unequivocally paid off, Jaune was still less robust. He had more Aura, but Cardin just had more to give. So far, Cardin hadn't managed to get a solid blow on his opponent, but as it always did, it would come down to luck.
And the time came some time into the second half of the fight- no one could tell if it had been seconds or hours since they started, only that both were practically dead on their feet. Another voice was chiding Jaune to pay attention to his Aura and go on the defense, but it lost out easily to the biting tone telling him to finish it.
He leapt with this intent.
Scraping his mace against the ground as he lumbered at Jaune, Cardin probably realized this too even if he had forgotten everything else in between, about the time his Dust ran out. Relearning that Jaune was faster, he surmised that he had no way to heave his weapon up in time on his own without propellant.
He tried anyway- or it looked like that, the handle slipping through his grip as he swung. Letting go halfway through and grasping on to Jaune's shield, he wrenched the metal plate from the other boy's hand. Yanking Jaune forward in the process where he fell upon Cardin's fist.
Jaune buckled under the solid blow. Even before he hit the ground, he knew his Aura was gone. He had lost the match, if not his strength, and he could have continued to fight but didn't much see the point. The arm still holding Crocea Mors felt heavy, too much to lift.
Though that could have also been Cardin stepping on it.
"Smile, Pretty-boy."
Watching that spiked wrecking-ball be raised above him, Jaune wondered who Cardin was talking to. Until he realized that it didn't matter, and he didn't care.
"Enough!"
It took longer than expected for the outside world to break from their stupor. Less than a few seconds for the mace to fly out of Cardin's hands, nearly dragging him across the arena and to the foot of an unamused Glynda Goodwitch.
"You alright, Jaune?"
Whereas the battle and even the things before had happened to someone else, the firm yet slender hand reached out to him in that separate universe, letting in the blinding lights and pulling him back into his body.
"Yeah… uh, I think." Finding at last that he could, as well as process the feelings inhabiting this bag of flesh. The world of the living looked rosy.
"Jaune!" Others- what looked like everyone else rushed the stage and nearly bowled him over with their exuberance. The youngest of all burrowing her way to the forefront. "That was great!"
Thinking did not translate to speaking. If he had voiced his thoughts, he would have pointed out that from the very beginning he hadn't approached the match with anything other than a primitive exigence. However, that didn't happen.
"Um, okay?" A part of him was still obliged to decry, "But I lost."
"So?" Blake scoffed in the background, and to his surprise he could picture it. She did that often, didn't she? "You did a lot better than you used to."
"She's right." The monotone of Ren set off a plethora of echoes he could hardly remember. "It's certainly a personal best."
"That's our captain!" Carrying half the enthusiasm herself, Nora would have been elated with the fact he could stand on his own two feet. Ironically, Jaune found that he was, too.
'There's no reason to compare yourself to anyone else but yourself.' And this comment existed separately from all of them, yet somehow right in the heart of it too. 'You did good, kid.'
"You did fine, Jaune." The hand which lifted him up clapped him on his shoulder. And to his surprise, Jaune held his ground. Maybe he was making progress. "Although… you still need to learn how to use your shield properly." Even the criticism sounded… friendly. "I could show you, if you want."
Jaune blinked in the bright lights, but she was still talking to him. They all still were, even if it felt like he hadn't seen these people- his classmates, his friends, in centuries.
"Yeah… sure. I think I'd like that."
It was all coming back to him.
"It will have to wait until after Mr. Arc visits the infirmary." Plowing, rather than tiptoeing her way into his reality, Glynda reached out to manhandle his face and remind him that yes, he still felt pain.
"Ow." Complaining as the professor roughly rubbed a cloth over his face, only after she was done did Jaune realize he could see more than just red.
"Hold that there." Pressing the cloth against his lacerated forehead and forcing his hand against that, Glynda backed away and all but banished them from her classroom. "Ms. Nikos, Mr. Ren, Ms. Valkyrie, please escort your captain and do not leave his side until he is handed over to Ms. Schwarzkopf. Tell her it is possible that he has a concussion."
"But I feel fine," Not removing the cloth to earn her ire, Jaune did take a step forward to plead his case and almost spilled over Ruby who hadn't been quite so cowed by Goodwitch to take the requisite three steps back.
"Infirmary. Now. And as for you," Turning to observe a Cardin who had changed rolls with his adversary, watching the spectacle but not participating in it. "…The rest of you, on to your next class. I have third years coming in and I need to clear the arena. Get on, I don't want to see anyone dawdling. I won't be writing any excuses to your next instructor if you're late."
"Well, I guess we best get got." With only minutes left, the only ones willingly apart gathered around the supposed 'winner'. Cardin's partner Russel gave the taller boy a hearty slap on the back which only made him blink. "Good job, Big Guy."
"Fuck off," Trying to sound angry and jerk his shoulder away, Cardin found he could do neither as he watched the bright mob of color fade away from the light. There was no anger left, only dark emptiness.
"Yeah, alright. Let's go."
Well Kid, I guess this is it.
What? You were expecting something more? Danger, adventure, a chance to be that knight in shining armor? A job well done? Sorry Kid, life don't work like that, you gotta take what you can get. Though I guess you know by now.
And I am sorry. Maybe I could'a done something different, but that's just who I am. It's all in the past, anyway. 'Sides, you got some better people looking out for you now, and they've waited a long time for you to come back.
Thing is, I remember what I was here for. Why I couldn't let go.
I got somebody waiting for me too, and I'm no longer afraid of seeing them again.
Sayonara, Gaki.
'So long, you crazy bastard.'
Amidst the chatter and fervor of the hallways she almost missed the non-sequitur whispered behind their hasty herd.
"Something up, Naruto?"
'Maybe,' Her mood was infectious, he enjoyed the fact that she was cheerful and was cheerful because she could tell he was too. 'I think one of those stories I told you finally got its happy ending.'
Maybe it sounded more wistful than happy, because Ruby's pace was dragged slowly down by all that it entailed. But it was definitely the latter, and her smile, big enough for both of them, foretold this.
"I'm glad." Even as she desperately squeezed the necklace beneath her uniform.
"Ruby?" The others had noticed her falling behind.
"Team RWBY," They all stopped and waved on their compatriots, four of whom hobbled off down a different corridor than the one they were headed, and that the headmaster had appeared from. "I won't keep you long. I just wanted to let you know that I receive your proposal, and that everything is set for tonight. Try not to tire yourselves out too much today, alright?"
This was good news, yet like Naruto's, it did carry a certain burden of knowledge.
"Right." Grin condensed so that it was a nova of determination, the captain of team RWBY awkwardly saluted the headmaster. "You can count on us!"
"I can count, ya know?"
After the third time he'd been asked to identify the same number of fingers, Jaune was feeling a little silly- well, sillier than he would normally being the center of attention in such a crowded space.
"Yes, I think we've determined that." Nothing denying sarcasm, the new nurse checked a box off on her list, setting down the clipboard and replacing it with a small flashlight. "Hold still for me and follow the light with your eyes."
The tape which secured his forehead bandage strained at his eyelids, but he did as was told because he could actually understand the purpose of this test. Not to mention that he doubted if he'd have been able to refuse with the unnervingly strong way the nurse gripped his chin.
"Good. Perfect."
"So, he doesn't have a concussion?" Pyrrha asked with cheer surpassing the baseline already set.
"I never said that." Her face was one that contradicted itself with a smile so that no one could tell if she was serious. "…But yes, it seems that way."
Collectively JNPR sighed as they slowly became accustomed to this new personality. Ms. Schwarzkopf was vastly different than the scar-faced man previously who wanted nothing to do with them.
"I would like to conduct a few more tests, however."
"What kind of tests?" Seemingly more concerned than Jaune himself, Pyrrha regarded the admittedly attractive woman with an unease she wasn't entirely able to quantify.
"Just some questions." Clearly the other woman could see what it was though, and confronted the former Mystralian champion with all the armaments of femininity. "They are standard for any medical report. Though I believe a few of them Mr. Arc might be more comfortable answering… alone."
"Let's go." As the party with least interest- or perhaps because he had a distinct interest in getting out of there, Ren all but dragged his female teammates out of the examining room.
"Why, Ren?! What if it's a test and Jaune needs our help? He hasn't had a chance to study!"
From the sound of things, it was proving difficult.
"I think Jaune will be fine. We'll be waiting right outside, just in case."
Reassuring to some and not others, Jaune wasn't comfortable until he heard the heavy doors slam shut.
Afterwards, there was the other uncomfortableness to think about.
"Now then," Even with a name that completely belied her face, Schwarzkopf- Galya as she had introduced herself, was a beautiful woman and Jaune would have to be dead or out of his mind not to notice this. "Shall we get started?"
Although, with her silver hair bordering on blonde and manner in which she asserted complete control in her dominion, she reminded Jaune of his elder sisters. While 'that kind' of discussion would be uncomfortable, it would be bearable so long as he kept this comparison in mind.
"Would you like to tell me how many times per week you masturbate?" Turns out, it was nearly impossible to retain the image of his studious and nigh-celibate sisters when the woman in front of him flowed into her seat, draped herself over his eyeballs and quirked her lips just so. "…Or would you prefer to talk about what's really going on?"
"…Um, what?"
Jaune could be forgiven for not comprehending the question the first time around, and Galya resisted the urge to exacerbate his fluster by chuckling at him. Instead, a molecular shift occurred within her posture and her smile to level her seriousness on par with other aspects.
"While these are real questions, unless something relevant happens we don't need to ask them. I'm more concerned with other possible complications. Like: how many hours per day do you keep the Dust crystal on your person?"
The warm hand which touched his cheeks turned icy cold and wrapped itself around Jaune's neck as he realized that this woman was dangerous in more ways than one. His own hands betrayed him by going for his hiding spot instead of the weapon which he didn't have.
"Relax," Treating this overreaction just like his embarrassment, Galya calmed him down with just a smile and a subtle gesture. "Ozpin and select people on staff already know. We only wish to make sure that you are healthy and not having any issues."
Clearly, he was not in the best of sorts. His twisted instincts were the least sign of this, piled onto the fever dream his past few months had been. Something was definitely amiss, and it started with the fact that he hadn't sought any help.
"I'm fine."
"That's not the question I asked."
He stiffened as he once against recognized his body's rebelliousness.
"The only times I don't have it are when I shower."
Not even now when it was less a death-threat and more dead-weight did he dare remove the gem from his person. It was no longer the fear of that suffocating sensation which could be levied against him, but a morbid fear of the unknown, that something should go unaccountably wrong should he do so. But, maybe this was just his delusions of grandeur again.
"Do you have it on you now?"
"Yes."
"May I see it?"
Fighting himself the whole way, he slipped the stone free from a hidden pocket he had sewn into his new shirt which folded into the waist. Sitting there in his fingers, it looked no different than any other Dust he'd seen in his life- Little different from the whitewashed walls and frigid tile floor. And yet when her python-like fingers went to pick it up, he hesitated.
"This is…" Examining it against the fluorescent lamps, white on white making her face seem even more pale, breathless in extasy. "…Just a rock."
"What?" Now he was the one robbed of breath and color. "Are you sure? I mean, you don't- y'know, hear… anything?"
She shook her head with that same irreplaceable smile still incised.
"Nope." Popping the 'P' with a giggle at his hollow face, she shook gently it by her ear as if it were a lightbulb. "Not a peep. It's just plain Dust."
Reality reawaken in Jaune tried to tell him that this had been the case the entire time. That it had only been his grand hallucinations which entrapped him. He had created his own demon in order to spur his growth, and then, finally outgrown the need when he accepted both himself and his friends.
But there was something else. Something was different between now and then, and it wasn't just Jaune.
"Here, you can have it back." When offered he still reclaimed it greedily, only to discover that she was indeed correct and there was no spark of life beneath that frosty surface.
"Is it… safe?"
"Well, keeping any Dust on your person is a tad questionable, but I'm more concerned with your mental health. You're not hearing any more 'voices' are you?"
Staring at the speck in his palm, he waited expectantly. There was a creeping cold, befitting of ice Dust which burned his palm. But the fire of passion had long since gone out and taken up residence in his chest.
"No. No I'm not."
"Well, good then!" Once again straining the limits of her beauty, she beamed a smile and stood them both up. "Nothing else seems wrong and I'm perfectly confident discharging you to your team."
Before Jaune could protest this abrupt end to their visit, He was whisked away by hands which practically scooped him out of his seat and flung him down the hall. Apparently, there was a lot of time that needed to be made up.
Alone once again, Galya watched the doors which were once inward-facing wobble back and forth in the breeze as she smiled in amusement.
When at last things had settled and a ghostly quiet returned to the infirmary, the kindly expression fell from her face as she slumped into her seat. There was still a smile as she picked up her clipboard, but it was one which strained at the conscience rather than her face.
Her finger with sharpened nail like a fang ran down a short list buried beneath the boilerplate stack.
"Jaune Arc, huh?" Stopping at his name which was listed with nothing else, she scratched it off the page. "Pity."
Nothing was left unaccounted for; the headmaster had seen to that and each of their personalities had double-checked it. Plans A through D complete with their contingencies and escape routes had been tattooed into their minds. And if this hadn't been enough, each had another external memory to remind them, a safety net beneath it all.
Yet, were they not all fortune's favors in the end? Playthings in the grand scheme and baby-food for the time being, made to be chewed up and spit out-
'Oh, quit it. There's no need to be so dramatic, just keep focused and prepared for when things go wrong.'
When, not if. In the time that she had come to know him, Blake knew that Shikamaru never made a mistake. So she didn't question this, his wording or his righteousness. It was the nature of things to go wrong, which was why she had people to catch her when she fell.
Sticking close to the ground now, in the shadows of shadows she slunk and shimmied, pressing close against the familiar brick walls of the warehouse district which all looked the same except for those three slash-marks like breadcrumbs guiding the way.
No one noticed her. Even as the crowds thickened, she proved invisible to eyes that were supposed to be as sharp as the Fang which was their symbol. Maybe she could have bluffed her way in, blended with her people underneath the anonymity of those white masks- she still could, if worse cam to worse.
Until then, she was comfortable in the corner of the darkness, as comfortable as she could be given the situation. For these were no longer her people, and they were busy trying to spread their cancerous ideology to others. For now, she was powerless to stop them, relegated to being a watcher.
It was in no way easy though, and she doubted she could have done it alone.
'Speaking of, now that we're here we should check in. Everyone in place?'
The chorus came in softly and Blake strained to hear it above her thrumming heart. But it was clear enough to her partner, and best of all it was secure. Nothing could possibly give them away.
Therefore, she had to concern herself with the impossible.
'Don't worry, we're versed in the impossible as well. If it comes to that, they'll get us out of here.'
Nothing left to do then but sit back and watch the show.
The crowds were already agitated before anyone even hit the stage. Potential recruits and first-timers gleaned their energy from the uniformed members who knew something important lay in store and were just as eager to find out what. The stale air had become thick with dust and chatter and pheromones that Blake struggled to breath through her nose. When at last something happened, she was just as ready as anyone else.
"Brothers and sisters,"
The air that she had been struggling to inhale became stuck in her throat, for she recognized this voice even before its owner entered the limelight.
'You have some history with this guy.'
There was no question, for Shikamaru had been there at the very beginning- the supposed end to her and Adam's relationship. The comment was meant to stir her own thoughts, remind her to breathe again and constrain the pounding of her heart.
In the time it took her to do so, she missed most of Adam's speech. But it was clear enough from the tentative applause that he was just the host and not the entertainment.
"Hello, hello, hello! Thank you for having me," Though the main act really had no need of introduction. "Yes, it is I, Roman Torchwick, friend to all creatures great and small!"
Not even those experienced members had imagined a surprise like this, and it took everyone including Blake by surprise to see the redhead so blatantly parading about on stage. With undertones of bloodlust scattered about, their shock did not last for long as the indignation caught like wildfire.
Roman soaked up the animosity as he swaggered gaily up to the forefront, faithfully guarded by a few White Fang who must have known what to expect. Though they did little to quell the audience, and it was Roman's boisterous voice itself that caught the attention.
"Oh, don't let me stop you. I agree, humans are vile, disgusting creatures. The worst! -Case in point-" Relishing the attention, any was good attention as he talked his way into their hearts and minds. "And we just get worse as time goes by. Don't believe me? You think things are better now because they give you a little more 'freedom'? I think they're just placating you, giving you the crusts and scarps and telling you to enjoy it. You have a place- we all have a place, and it's always at the bottom! Just above the shit to keep you from drowning. I might be Scum but even I know this- I'm right there with you, human trash. You've got to take as much freedom as you can carry away!"
Such genuine passion was becoming infectious, communicable even to those who had not known what to expect. There was a universal feeling that demanded change of any sort, and this human was preaching to that, to those intransigent souls.
"Lucky for you all, I have quick hands…"
What was worse, he had substance to back up his philosophy. Ill-gotten gains he unveiled with a showman's flourish, the lights came on and illuminated his accomplishments. Voices mumbling agreement suddenly fell silent in disbelief bordering on horror- suddenly surging back up to a roar of approval when they saw what gifts he bore.
The Atlesian war machine stood there in all its menacing glory, lifelessly awaiting their spark.
"…But you know what's even worse than humans, the ones who jealously guard their position?" As the volume had shifted to the Faunus mob, Roman's soft-spoken words still cut through the din. "It's the ones you think you know, the ones you believe are on your side. They advocate peace and understanding, but the truth is that they want to keep everything as it is. The status quo benefits them, and they're happy so long as there are people beneath them who are worse off than they."
The clog in her windpipe was rudely shoved aside by her throbbing heart as Blake interpreted where he was leading. Though his intention was shrouded behind a shadow cast over his eyes, Blake could see his smirk from her spot near the back and could practically feel his mind searching her out.
"You know who these people are, the worst of offenders…"
-No, he was calling her out, looking straight at her through blinding light and binding shadow. She held her breath until the last word as panic constricted around that lump in her throat.
"-Case in point, Ms. Belladonna, why don't you step on up and give a bow!"
'Abort mission! Extraction, now!'
Screaming in her ear juxtaposed the quiet murmurs of confusion around her, the silent denial frozen on the face of Adam Taurus milling about in the shadow of the Atlesian Paladin. With a piercing note, Roman winked his flowery eyelashes at her.
Everything was hidden soon enough behind a buzzing shroud which also muted the panicked screams. Insects worming their way from the woodwork, from the invisible cracks and from the ceiling flew around in a black snowstorm, providing the perfect distraction for her to make her escape. Even then, she might not have moved if they hadn't carried her, if those shadows hadn't guided her like a puppet up to the roof where the rest of her team was waiting.
"Right, cover's blown, let's bail!"
"No, we can't!" Self-preservation took a back seat the minute she spied the stolen SDC property. There was no way Weiss could let that kind of machinery fall to the whims of men like Roman Torchwick or an organization like the White Fang- she honestly didn't know which was worse at this point. "We have to disable the Paladin!"
"Wait a second, Ms. By-the-Books, our task was just observation, quick in and out, with the emphasis on out."
"-Barring extenuating circumstances!" Weiss argued back. "I think this counts!"
"Guys, Yang's right," Trying to assert her responsibility against her meager height, Ruby stepped between her sister and partner. "We're not supposed to get involved unless there's really no choice!"
*Crash! Crunch! Screee….*
The roof groaned under the weight of irony and the Paladin which had boosted up through the ceiling unimpeded and now stood there patiently awaiting them to finish their discussion.
"Freezer-burn!"
No choice, no further argument between the two who rushed the monstrous machine which had already deployed a small caliber Gatling from its shoulder and swept the team with bullets. None of the 6,000 rounds fired per minute hit the scattered huntresses as Yang and Weiss took off on either side and Blake regained function in time to swap her and Ruby out for a couple of shadow clones.
Thrown forward by her gauntlets funneling fire Dust, Yang looked ready to reach the Paladin first and so it shifted its attention to her- or would have if Weiss hadn't already froze both its feet and its waist into position. All Yang had to deal with was the shoulder-mounted turret, which she did with a backhand almost delivered as an afterthought.
'Access port is between the shoulder hydraulics and the explosive screw for the cockpit.'
"How 'bout that, the pervert is actually right." Yang remarked as she blindly smashed in and ripped off the almost unseen panel.
'You better hope I'm more than right, Brat! Plug me in!'
"Just Yang on!"
"No time for jokes!" Weiss called from below. "Hurry up, this thing is already breaking loose!"
"Done!"
Almost as soon as she shoved the partly-chloritized crystal into the ten-prong auxiliary port, the entire machine come to a screeching stop. Servos protested the sudden abandonment of their duty and hydraulics decompressed with a forlorn hiss as the whole metal beast seemed to slump over.
'…And done here. Right, your turn. Finish it.'
"Can do!"
Having a harder time removing the jammed Jiraiya, Yang palmed the still-glowing gemstone and wound up a massive punch atop the mech's cockpit. That reinforced glass canopy was nothing under the veritable hammer of god as it came crashing down with all the might earthly forces could muster.
'Got to say, Tsunade might have been a better match, but it's been a pleasure working with you.'
Yang leapt from her self-made crater before the hulking scrap-metal could topple over the edge with her in it. Sashaying up to her team while dusting her palms.
"Oh, believe, me, the pleasure's all mine."
"There, are you satisfied?" Sounding distinctly less so, Blake obviously didn't want to hang around.
"Yes," Thinking for only a second, Weiss admitted this much easier than she would have before.
"Alright then-"
In a flash they were gone, poppy-red petals scattered in a spiral behind them.
"-Let's gooooh I feel sick."
Still not used to the sensation of her soul being hijacked, Yang dropped to a knee on an unknown rooftop, somewhere much brighter than they were before. The others weren't doing much better, with the exception that they were quieter about it.
Ruby herself was the best of all at hiding her discomfort. The sharp sensation stabbing through her arm wasn't the same affliction suffered by her teammates, but that didn't make it any more bearable. The pain made her almost as woozy as everyone else, and secretly she braced herself against a clothesline pole while keeping her wrist in a death-grip.
"Well… that went well." It was hard to tell if Blake was being sarcastic as she was turned away, covering a hand over her mouth. But neither she nor anyone else seemed to notice their captain's struggle.
'It did, actually.' Reluctantly, she and everyone else agreed.
"It could'a been a lot worse." Planting her hands on her hips after patting herself down, Yang stretched side to side, and in doing so took a look at where they had ended up. "Wow, you got us all the way to downtown. Not bad, Sis!"
Ruby nodded while still biting her lip, hoping the darkness hid it.
"So, we're in the clear?"
"Seems like it." Waiting a tick to see if she was contradicted, Yang excitedly broke the mounting expectation. "Hey! As long as we're downtown, let's celebrate! I know this great club-"
"No." Recovered enough to say this with an amount of commanding, Blake remained unflinching as Yang deflated. "Although… I do know a café that stays open late."
Hyped up from adrenaline and anticipating the crash once it wore off, a shot of caffeine and sugar sounded like just the ticket to get them through the night along with the rough morning which awaited them.
"Sounds good to me." Although not one to so easily dismiss the seriousness that they had gone through, Weiss could get on board with the unspoken logic.
"Aye!" Ruby might skip the coffee, but the implied promise of sweets sounded like the best thing to distract her from the lingering pain.
"I see I'm outvoted and overruled." Throwing up her hands with a smile, Yang was quick to add a condition to their extracurricular outing. "-But no sugar for Ruby, it's past midnight."
"Awe, come on!"
'Seriously? After all this you're going to say no to a treat?'
"Yeah, I agree with them on this one. Let'em eat cake." Blake pushed with a smirk. "She certainly earned it."
"Alright, alright." Seeing how quickly she was being outnumbered, Yang relinquished before it came to begging.
"Yay! C'mon, let's go!"
It was a little thing in the grand manifest of all things, perhaps even a foolish notion and elation which seized them. Yet it was important, that much they knew. A small victory that should be celebrated and an event that couldn't be swept under the rug.
Because even then, Ruby had the feeling- they all had the feeling that things had been just a smidge too easy.
"She couldn't have gone far, I want her found!"
Spitting mad, as well as the last of the flies from his mouth, Adam Taurus barked these orders at his subordinates. He all but tore them from trying to assist and reassure their fellow Faunus so they could work on this task. They had no choice but to scatter like the swarm of insects which had besieged them.
Soon there wasn't anyone left in the sickly yellow light but himself and his lieutenant who watched his superior with a controlled nervousness. All their potential recruits had fled the scene in a panic, and no one was sure whether some would be back.
"You go too."
"But sir-"
"Go!"
In his rage and frustration Adam could barely move, yet his subordinate knew better than to trust this petrified illusion for long. He might have been bigger and stronger, but there was a reason why Adam was their commander beyond the bloodthirsty sword straining in his grasp.
"Yessir."
With grace and speed one would not expect from such a big man, he charged out on the heels of the bloodhounds whom had already been sent on the hunt.
Then, Adam was alone with his rage.
-But not just rage, because there was something else there which still betrayed him, decried his true feelings. Blake had meant something to him once, and he had never been quite sure what it was. So now he was wracked with painful indecision. It felt like a sword stabbing into his spine and spreading numbness throughout the rest of his body while his mind suffered all the anguish. He had no idea what he would do when they had her.
"Boy, this place sure cleared out fast. Do I know how to bring down a house, or what?"
-And not just alone, because even then Adam was plagued by ghouls.
"What are you still doing here, Torchwick? I thought you were dead."
"Oh no, quite alive, but I thank you for your concern." Even though Adam couldn't seem to turn his head to face him, he could see the crook's smug visage. "There's also the little matter of services rendered. I couldn't rest easily knowing I was owed recompense."
"You don't work for us, you work for Cinder." Not wanting to deal with him or anything right now, Adam glared at the splintered stage lest he smite this annoying rat and earn the woman's ire. "Take it up with her."
"Oh, I will, don't you worry." It felt like he was being patted on the back with the man's cane, and Adam wanted to spin around and slap the man for his impudence- but he found that he really couldn't. "In fact, it's her who has yet to own up to certain promises. And I'd like your help holding her accountable."
It was a madman who thought that they could take on Cinder Fall and get away with it. And so, Adam wanted to ask exactly what the deranged man had meant by that, but now he found that he couldn't even speak. Did his anger really control him that much?
"What's the matter, Adam? Cat got your tongue?" In the flesh, Roman's smug smile was even more revolting. And though he wanted to turn or to blink it out of existence there was really nothing he could do but track the man's lazy pace across the empty stage. "I suppose I'll take your silence as acceptance. That alright?"
And of course, despite his mental protests and haranguing, Adam could do nothing but try and slay the man with his eyes as he practically danced with malicious glee in front of him.
"Great! Don't worry, it won't be that bad, really. -Or so I'm told."
This only succeeded in turning a smidgen of his anger into panic. But so far Roman had been true to his word and he didn't feel a thing- not anything as if his senses had been shut off from the neck down. It was probably even for the best that he held still in this paralysis as Neo delicately enlarged the puncture she had made in his spine, shifting aside bundles of raw nerves with all the expertise of a surgeon.
"From what I hear, it's just like falling asleep."
Still with her own Dust crystal dangling from a necklace, Neo took the one Roman had loaned her and did as she was instructed. The glowing scarlet gem stood out against the free-flowing blood and practically sparked in anticipation when it neared that autonomous highway.
Then it was done, the wound was patched up with duct-tape like a cardboard box. There was an emptiness behind Adam's mask to reinforce this analogy, tension in jaw having gone slack moments before.
"Wakey, wakey. Let him go, Neo."
The girl did so happily. Pinching the necklace and letting the gem guide her hand, she tapped it against invisible targets on the body to set it free from rigor mortis.
Bones dropping freely, Adam caught himself before he hit the ground. When he straightened, it was like he was being pulled up on strings.
"Testing, testing, we all there?" Adam did not answer at first, flexing every muscle from the toes up and saving the jaw for last. "Well, did you at least enjoy the show?"
"Tactless and short." A voice that was not Adam's came from his mouth, flat except for the hand which was massaging his jaw. "And this body… has way too much stress. It won't last another fifty fears. I doubt it will last until the end of this."
"We don't need it to." Roman tapped his cane, issuing a proclamation. "It will serve its purpose for now, and then we can work on getting a replacement when necessary."
"Yes, we will." A certainty which made Roman shiver and Neo surreptitiously move around to be by his side. "That machine wasn't too bad. Paladin, they called it? It has potential."
"Fine, be sure to add it to your Christmas list and I'm sure Santa will give you one."
"One? Oh no." Still testing out the new accommodations, 'Adam' tried a smile. "I will need an army."
"That too." Heedless of the fact that it creeped him out, Roman tried to mimic the expression. "And I'm sure general Ironwood would be happy to foot the bill."
'Adam' nodded and went back to staring at his hand. Bearing in mind he hadn't been in possession of a body in eons, even such a simple feature was cause for appraisal. A complexity and intricacy he could admire, but a frailness that revolted him.
"Fearful things, humans."
"Well, technically you're a Faunus…" Roman clammed up, for once not letting his mouth run its course. But 'Adam' didn't even seem to notice.
"Commander!" Nor did he pay much attention to the winded White Fang Lieutenant who returned while Roman had been busy keeping his eye on the pseudomorph. "A thousand apologies! The trail went cold just past the building and we can't find no other trace of her. It- it- it's like she up and disappeared."
"Hmm…" With that contemplative smile still drawn up on his face, 'Adam' was clearly of a different bearing than he was before. Though it went unnoticed under the layer of sweat dripping from the Lieutenant's brow. "Would you say that you are a competent man, Lt?"
Mortified, moreover disappointed in himself for failing his superior, the battle-hardened man nonetheless was predisposed to answer.
"Uh, yessir, well, I do my best."
Reflecting the sincerity in his acceptance of the answer, 'Adam' nodded.
And then in a swift stroke that was faster than Roman had ever seen him move in life, 'Adam' cut off the man's bowed head.
"Hmm…" Same expression, unchanged by what had just happened, the redhead examined the doubly crimson blade even as the headless body slumped over and began pooling blood at his feet. "Human. Faunus. There isn't much difference is there? Yes, this body will do for now. It already comes with so many useful puppets."
While 'Adam's attention was more affixed on examining the mechanism of his sword, Roman drew Neo closer in to himself with an arm protectively over her shoulder.
"The lesser of two evils, My Dear. The lesser of two evils…"