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*hears whip cracking*
*whimpers*
And onto tonight's wonderful tale…~Voltegeist
Ignore him, I haven't given him a sock yet ~ Twisted
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Brief Announcement :
had an incident at the end of last month involving people using fake cards and information, and trying to access other people's accounts and banks. They have sorted the issue but many cards across the site were declined. Everything ought be fine going forward. But please check with your banks to ensure nothing untowards has happened and when safe, check your pledge for any errors related to the incident.
No Supporter list changes will be made in response to these declinations due to this issue. I apologize for any inconveniences that result from it.
Now, Chapter Announcement
This chapter is not Jaune focused, it is Adam/Ansel focused. Please understand he is a terrorist, and view the actions, justifications for them written, and so on through the lens of 'Adam' rather than me. Thank you.
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Adam heard the flap of his tent open a few minutes later and, without turning and in a low and nearly pained voice, asked, "Were you correct about him after all, Yuma?"
"Yes." He answered, approaching slowly and throwing the upper half of Banesaw's mask onto the table in front of Adam. "His wounds were too great to face me in any real fight and he fell easily enough. Out of sight and with distance from the Human settlement."
"Of course they were, he was in reach of the explosion at Mountain Glenn." Adam sighed, shaking his head and turning to look at Yuma, the winged Faunus standing just inside the tent and at attention. He bore a couple small scratches from the fight, but in all likelihood the damage ended there. "How is the Grimm presence in the area? We can't withstand an attack on our rear by them, and the punishments last night may have drawn some in."
"Sparse, and of negligible strength and number, Adam." Yuma reported dutifully, "I have three of our best fighters in the area, dealing with any Grimm who might end up being a threat to our operation."
"Wise decision." Adam nodded, "And the jamming devices from Vacuo?"
"Being moved into position now, Adam." Yuma answered, moving past him and gesturing at the mountains surrounding Ansel with his finger, "Five of them, in a semi-circle on the lower peaks around the settlement, with a pair of guards to each. Five fighters in the forest and four more guarding the prisoners leave us with a ten man crew for your plan."
"Plenty." Adam nodded, smiling viciously at the map in front of him and leaning on the thin, shoddily made table. "By tomorrow, I want the Arc Manor to be rubble. Kill any who get in your way, but remember to brief everyone that this is a stealth raid. We aren't here for blood, only for fire. At least for today."
"I will ensure that they understand this fact, and assign roles, if you permit." He nodded, and Yuma turned to leave, pushing out the flap of Adam's tent and walking away to see to his duties.
When he was finally alone, Adam turned and made his way to the cot lying to the side of the small, spartan tent, and knelt by it. Under it was a simple, unornamented wooden box, and inside that simple container lay the shattered and blackened remains of Gambol shroud and a foot of Blake's ribbon. It was tattered on both ends, and singed with dark spots intermingled with a smattering of ash and soot. Absolutely filthy, and Blake would have hated to see it that way. She'd have set to scrubbing it clean, repaired it, trimmed the edges maybe so she could wear it over her ears.
So she could hide what she was, and who. Because that was the kind of world she lived in, and she couldn't stand what had to be done to change that. She was weak, a coward, a deserter and a traitor. Like Banesaw, and many others now, who had stabbed the White Fang in the back because of their own desires. Their own wishes outweighing everything else to them, everything that they had fought for up until that time and everything that others had sacrificed so much for. That some had died for.
And yet, he still had to fight back the emotions that threatened to overwhelmed him, clenching that ruined ribbon in his fist and growling, "No one will have to make the choices you did, Blake. Never again, after this last war is over. I swear to you. I will make it so that no Faunus needs to make the choice to fight, or accept being treated like some animal. Even if I have to die for it."
Standing, he tied the ribbon taut around the sheath of his sword, letting the length left over hang down its length in two short, flowing ribbons, and held the sword up, "But first, you have to be avenged, my love. And you will be. I will take from him everything he loves, starting with his home."
Finally, he laid the weapon aside and crawled onto the cot, closing his eyes and taking his mask off so he could rest.
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"How do you strike your own forehead with a training shortsword?" Pyrrha snorted, laughing genuinely as he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. The Mistralian champion snorted a laugh, teasing the young knight, "I have spent years sparring, and never seen someone manage such, Jaune, forgive me."
"Coral was a better fighter than me, Pyr, and probably still is. And she had two swords, too, which was kinda unfair. Here, lemme just..." He held up a knife and fork, pantomiming catching the knife between two of the forks and then jerking it back towards himself a couple times, "She kinda did that."
"Did she at least think to say the, oh, how does it go?" Salem waved her hand a few times in the air in a small circle, searching for the answer before sighing, "Something about… Slapping yourself, but I've only heard the phrase a couple times in the last century or so and these things run together."
"No." He sighed, dropping the silverware on the table with a groan because he knew how they'd react to the next part. "She did not tell me to stop hitting myself. She was, uh, too busy laughing at me, actually, so I don't think that she thought about it. Uh, look, Ruby, your turn to tell story, right?"
When Ruby began her story, Salem and Jaune both noticed Neo slip away from the table silently, almost invisible were it not for Salem's infinite amount of experience and resistance to the alcohol they were all dabbling in and Jaune's experience with Neo on a more personal level. Even had she used her Semblance, Jaune would have seen her, but since she only slid off her seat and backed away before she turned to walk from the room, it was all the easier to see her.
"Go. She needs her own consoling words and gestures, after what has happened to you and her both." Salem whispered when he looked to her, as much seeking advice as permission, trying not to be rude to the ancient woman after everything. He had to live with her now, and he was not going to start that off on a sour note.
"Can you make some excuses for me?" He murmured back, the ancient royal raising a thin eyebrow at him curiously, a clear enough question to him even without his Semblance to tell him everything. "Maybe a distraction, or something? I don't want everyone to worry, everything is going so well, you know?"
"Tyrian, my child, would you show Jaune where we keep the wine? He seems to enjoy it quite a bit, and has asked if he is allowed to have more later. I feel he doesn't understand how liberally he might make use of what we have here." She asked, the loyal servant - or worshipper, Jaune guessed was more accurate - nodding eagerly and standing quickly while she continued on, "And young Ruby, are you quite sure you won't try any? Mistral's finest drink, this."
He stood, laying a napkin over his plate when Weiss shot him a glare, and followed Tyrian from the room. The man was quick to speak, "You are going to see the little one, yes? Your woman?"
"I…" He hesitated, wary of opening up to Tyrian about something of all people he could talk to, but eventually he sighed. Tyrian was a psychotic cultist, or something like that at least, and worshipped Salem like his goddess, but that granted the man some loyalty to Jaune as well. If only because of Salem's respect and affection for him. "Yeah. She's still upset over Roman, I think, and I don't think what went down with Ironwood was to her liking either. She wanted to, uh, 'make him pay'. If you, uh, know what I mean."
"A sadistic, cruel little thing." Tyrian sing-songed brightly as they descended a staircase, Jaune nodding too himself and waiting to see if the scorpion meant that as an insult. "Like a flower, I think. Pretty to look at, and it smells sweet, but you had best keep your hands away from it, or it will dig its thorns into you with glee."
"Yeah. I don't think Neo would like being called a 'flower' though. She is the kind that would have thorns, though, if she was one." He pointed out as the Faunus pushed open a door at the bottom of the long stairs.
Inside were dozens of racks of bottles, and casks at the back, inside a cool room that Jaune would have sworn came right out of an old Raggy Doo cartoon episode. Tyrian showed him in, shutting the door behind them, and then led him through the rows of dark bottles filled with their red liquid, gently lit by cool lights above his head.
"If she is upset, that I would wager that you ought take some drink with you. Something more for taste that to lose yourself to it, and something that is appropriate to the person, if possible..." Tyrian suggested, running a finger over labels as they walked, looking for something. Finally, he clicked his tongue, and pulled a small bottle off a shelf with several others just like it, "Ah, Mistralian Brachetto d'Acqui. Sweet, not too hard, and comes in a small, decorative bottle."
"Would you be offended if I said I didn't think you'd be a wine guy?" Jaune asked, taking the bottle from him when he offered it. "My dad always said it was a drink for sissies, you know?"
"My boy, wine-drinkers conquered all of Mistral and Vacuo during the ancient days of the Old Empire." He chastised, smiling warmly to show he was at least mostly joking. Even if on Tyrian's face it seemed all the more sinister and cruel to smile in… Almost any situation. It always struck as over-eager, and not quite right. "Now shoo! You have a young flower to hold, and thorns to try your hand at dodging. And remember, pulsing your Aura in your nogging can help clear up drunkenness, at least somewhat."
He rolled his eyes again, but turned and left the wine-cellar without arguing. He could feel the ever-so-slight warmth in his head and did as Tyrian suggested, focusing his Aura into his head like he would any wound. He was only slightly surprised when Tyrian proved right, and the warmth faded a bit, that slight bit of fog and warmth that had been settled on his shoulders pulling away just a bit.
It hadn't bothered him, really, but he preferred a clearer head when he had important things to do. At least generally.
"Hey, Neo." He called when he entered his little apartment, or at least that was what he called it, and saw her laid across the back of his couch in her leotard, stretching boredly. She turned to blink owlishly at him, and he set the helmet on a small table by the door, asking, "Are you okay? I saw you slip away from the table."
"Just a bit upset, that's all. And not about Roman or Irondick. I'm… I'm good with that, I guess, or as good as I can be." She answered, turning to watch a movie playing on the screen. The same one they'd watched together way back when, he noticed. "So if you're, you know, whatever to Salem now, what does that make us now? Am I just your side-thing, or what?"
"No, you're not…" He sighed quietly, shaking his head. He'd guessed wrong, then, about what had bothered her. Walking over to the couch, he kicked off his boots and started unbuckling his armor, "You aren't my side-anything, Neo. I made very clear to Salem that you came first in all of that. But she plans to make me immortal, and so after… So later on, I guess, she wants us together."
"After I'm dead, you mean. After I die of old age or whatever else, she wants you to hop into bed with her." She pointed out, not actually putting any heat into the words. Neo was surprisingly not petty like that, simply preferring to argue facts of a situation, unless you really pissed her off. "Right?"
"That's the idea, I think." He agreed, tossing the upper half of his armor onto a chair and walking past the couch towards some dressers, fishing for a change of clothes. "Honestly? Not too thrilled by the idea, in a lot of ways. But that was her demand for helping us. We couldn't handle Atlas itself without her, Neo."
"I know." She responded, sounding more tired than anything else. "Just selfish of me, I guess. I don't want to be replaced like that. I mean, if you just fucked her now and again, that'd be one thing. But she wants you to trade my bed for hers, when I take a dirt nap, and that feels… I don't know, I just don't like it."
"I know, and neither do I." He agreed, joining her on the couch finally in a loose cotton shirt, laying his head against her stomach where she lay. "I'm sorry about it, Neo, but… I don't know what else I could have done."
"S'fine." She shrugged, rolling off the couch and then hopping over the back to lay on the couch itself, with her head in his lap. "I'll just have to get over it. Just how the situation it is. So can we just shush and cuddle on the couch for a bit?"
"Sure." He agreed, playing with her hair idly with a hand. "Never actually finished this movie anyways, and I'm kinda curious what happens."
"Everyone dies, and then I suck your dick." She answered frankly, Jaune snorting a laugh at the answer.
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"It's ab- -ime, -uma. -now, -ll come as- on as -our signal-" The flying Faunus heard the words crackling weakly in his ear, cut off and barely discernible through the static, choking on each other and sometimes delaying a moment before rushing forward. "-aiting on- -r signal, -ma. -n't waste -ime"
Yuma had already worked with these jammers before, and their paired radios. Small squares, about the size of a saucer and twice as thick, with a small antenna that stuck out of the top, which hung on the back of his waist and hanged their securely with the help of several thick, leather straps. A small, coiled cord wound from the bottom and around his waist, then up his stomach and the side of his chest, then up under the dark leather hunter's hood he wore and attached to the side of his pristine porcelain White Fang mask, made especially for him with a wider visor instead of just using simple eye-holes. His role was equal parts scout and saboteur, and both roles required the ability to see far better than the common combatant would ever expect to need.
He circled high above Ansel for another couple minutes, watching the settlement far below. None of the guards carried lights, though several braziers were lit at steady intervals just behind the wall, where guards sat and warmed themselves when it wasn't their turn to walk the fortified expanse. Several more, these ones carrying torches - likely for the Humans living there more than anything else - patrolled the roads among the homes and shops in groups of three. Too many for even Yuma himself to handle silently, one of them would either get away or cry out and alert others.
And he couldn't escape terribly easily, he was more of a glider than anything else. He could try and get away by flying up in small circles, but that wasn't fast enough to escape active guards hunting for him. And he knew what that would cause Adam to do, the man wouldn't be willing to risk someone as useful as him or the operation as a whole. He'd order what men they had to attack, and hope for the best, because after tonight they wouldn't have the element of surprise. Ansel would know they were under threat, and call for help. And then the jammers would be pointless completely, assuming they didn't realize they'd been jammed and find a countermeasure. And there would go their biggest advantage outside of him being able to fly so high above them.
He grunted behind his scarf when a bid fluttered by suddenly, and turned to watch it fly away while he glided along in a circle. Small, black, with… White feathers or something he couldn't make out, it soared away so quickly. But why would a bird like that, with its lithe shape and fluttery flying, be out in the middle of the night in the first place?
No matter, he decided after a moment, returning to searching for a suitable distraction. He'd brought a trio of small flame-grenades with him for the job. Thinking, he circled towards the manor itself, and then back towards the gate, before plucking them from his belt and pressing down the trigger as he descended. He let them fall on several small, clustered houses, one after another so they'd spread out in the arc he glided over them in. The fuses were short, only thirty seconds, and he pumped his wings until they ached to get range on them, headed towards one of the mountains around the settlement.
When he landed, he heard several muted thumps, and turned in time to see the settlement light up from the fire and the lights cast by homes and surprised people, all turning towards the fire and away from the gate. Many of the guards at the wall turned from it, some running towards the fire, some staying, but within a minute none were looking outside the settlement at all.
As all eyes were turned inward, and Yuma smiled as he reached around and switched on his end of the communicator, speaking three times for safety, "Go, go, go."
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Adam and his small force spread out wide, a dozen feet apart almost to the last, with Adam at the center. Behind them as they ran, rifles hanging on their backs and swords in their fists, sprinting through the crops. Every now and then, half their number would drop a small orb like the one Yuma had obviously used for their distraction among the crops, for their exit later.
When he reached the wall, Adam leapt high landing beside a guard and watching the Doe turn to him slowly, surprised. She blinked owlishly at him, eyes widening after a second, "You-"
His blade cut through her throat and threw her head over the wall, and he grabbed it by the front of her shirt to throw her body with it. All along the wall, his fellows did similar, the grunts and cut-off cries lost in the din the people of the settlement desperately flocking to fight the fires burning on the western side of the settlement. His fighters closed with him, and then as a group they headed to the eastern side of the settlement, to head in from there along one of the many roads.
Along the way, they cut down anyone who saw them without the slightest mercy or hesitation - guard or otherwise - and within less than a minute reached the Manor proper. Or one end of it, at least, the group massing under tall windows set into stone walls and regrouping there to catch their breath and find their way inside. The damn building's layout hadn't been on any records they could get, so they hadn't been able to plan out their way in.
Distantly, he could see blonde hair fighting the fires nearest to the building. Several mops of it, in fact, and mostly women. A family, it had to be, from the way the oldest woman was holding a couple of the smaller ones. The Arcs were the only family of that size, with that many girls in it.
Jaune's family, then.
"Sir," he turned, looking at one of the Grunts with him, and the young man reported, "We found a service entrance, Sir. It's the best we've found, and we can't stay out here for much longer. Not unless we want a much bigger fight on our hands, at least."
"Then use it." Adam ordered, catching movement in the corner of his eyes and spinning, drawing a thin knife from the other White Fang Grunt's waist, and hurling it without a thought.
A bird on a fence near him fluttered away, red eyes seeming to peer at him accusingly, and Adam's eyes narrowed, the Grunt asking, "Why is a bird out here? And what kind of bird has bright red eyes like that?"
"Get inside and plant the bombs. I will… Guard out exit." Adam ordered, the Grunt nodding and turning to run back to the others and relay his orders. He watched them until they disappeared down into into a small access-way, like something out of a movie.
He took a step to follow, and then looked back at the family, eyes narrowing as an idea came to mind and he fished a small detonator out of his jacket. One of two, one matched to the bombs his men were carrying and the other to the bombs in the fields. The Arcs were coordinating fire-fighting from here, only the patriarch of the family and an older daughter still her with the mother and the youngest. The others had to have run off, coordinating elsewhere, so if he blew the bombs in the field now…
The bombs went off without much fanfare, smoke simply starting to billow to the south of the settlement, and he smiled as the patriarch seemed to swear and moved off with the other Arc. Just a mother, a couple children, and a single young man guarding them, barely a dozen feet away from him. And none were paying him any attention at all as he closed with them, unnoticed in the chaos in front of them.
"Excuse me, but you're Jaune's mother, correct?" He asked quietly, standing just behind her.
"Yes, I-" She turned, a confused face until her eyes fell to his blade, the red edge gleaming menacingly in the firelight, and her eyes widened. "No, Guar-" Before the guardsman in front of her even turned, her head was falling and he was leaping over it.
"Missus Arc!" The young man cried, staggered away as his shield took the first strike from Adam's sword. Barely even a swing, by his standards, but he'd buckled under it. "No, no, no, damnit no! You son of a bitch!"
The man snarled another insult at him, but Adam lost in the children behind him screaming and the fire roaring, and brought his spear back to thrust towards him. He batted it aside with the flat of his blide, raising it and cutting down in the same motion to shatter the weapon and then tuning, slamming his foot into the man's chest to push him back and bringing the blade whistling around again, up and then down at the shoulder where his shield arm attached to the rest of him.
He cried as his arm fell away, stumbling and then collapsing, the broken shaft of the spear rolling away as Adam moved towards him. His foot slammed down on the young guard's chest and he hoisted the blade high, point held down towards him, intent to finish the young man.
"Hey!" He turned, a rock bouncing off his mask, smiling at the small child glaring at him, "L-Leave him alone, you big bully!"
"No, don't help me, run away before-" His blade flicked out, the body under him stiffening before going still once again, and Adam stepped off the body and towards the kids.
One glared at him while the other hugged her dead mother, and he smiled even more widely when she saw the broken spear point and dove for it. His foot slammed down on her back and forced her into the ground, his sword burying itself in her heart inside a second. Quick, clean, painless.
The least he could do for someone whose only crime was her relation to that Arc bastard. He cost Adam loved ones, so his were what he would lose as well.
Seeing him draw his blade from the girl finally had the other twin scream, the kind of shrill sound only a child produced, as he moved towards her. He drew his blade back to strike, grimacing, and she looked at him and screamed. No, she wasn't looking at him-
He leapt to the side, rolling across the dirt and coming up a foot away, glaring in shock at a Gryphon. The beast snapped its jaws at him and then lunged to the side, between himself and the girl. The girl curled up next to her mother, barely a few inches from its front claws, and Adam saw the Gryphon register her presence. So why…
Why did it seem to be protecting her?
Looking up, another three circled low, snarling at him and ignoring practically everything else. Past the one in front of him, he saw his fighters emerge from the service entrance once again, and made a sour face. The Arcs themselves could wait, and he'd already killed two or three - based on the guardsman's appearance, at least - of them. And he could hear guards coming, and a bass voice bellowing in rage.
Turning, he saw the Arc patriarch barreling towards him with half-a-dozen fighters around him, and sighed. Between them and the suddenly helpful Grimm, he wouldn't be able to win. And he was no good too anyone dead. The cause of the White Fang, and justice for Blake, would all fall to dust without him.
Time for a retreat, then.
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"It's the White Fang." Salem answered, standing outside the building Jaune had once more taken residence in. The young man, bare of anything but his helmet and some pants, snarled a swear and she elaborated, "I can make out scarcely more than the child's blonde mop, and have directed the Gryphons I sent to attack only those wearing the mask of the White Fang. But questions will come when the child talks about a Grimm coming to her rescue."
"Is my other sister alright?" He asked, voice low as much in shock at his mother's sudden death as anything else. "A-And my other sister, you said Adam kicked her, but-"
"I can't see much, through the Grimm. Not without a Seer present to strengthen the connection. I can hear, if I sit with a Seer and focus, and even see somewhat but it is too dark for that." Salem answered, "The only way to find out, and deal with this new crisis, is to be there yourself."
"What do you want to do, then?" Jaune asked quietly, forcing himself to remain calm regardless of how much anger he felt, stepping out of the door fully and letting it shut behind him. "We don't have a way to get everyone down there fast enough, and we don't have time to wait for one."
"No, to both counts." She responded, the sound of something heavy landing behind her as a Giant Nevermore crouched low, meeting her eyes and chirping lowly at her gaze. "We could, however, make good time with this. Though it can only carry two."
"I'll get Neo up, then, and we can-"
"No." Salem interrupted, smiling pleasantly at him and cocking a hip, her hand laid on it like a mother might when speaking to her child, "No, Neo will not be necessary for this. Especially given our particular arrangement, now. I've an idea I quite like, though I don't think you will feel quite as enthusiastic as I do."
"Then what is this idea you say I won't like?" He demanded hotly, waving a hand around himself in some vague and weal attempt to dispel his frustration and hours ago, he'd been laughing, eating, and telling stories, and now his mother was dead, and maybe more. "We can't stand here playing word games, Salem. Just say what you want to do, alright?"
"Now, I think it is time I met your family, and returned knowledge of my presence to the world." Salem smiled widely, excited and vicious all at the same time, "And this time, I will bring my personal power to bear against those who would strike at your family. My family too, now."
"Alright." Jaune nodded, turning and reaching for the door, "I'll grab a coat, and my sword. I don't have time for my armor right now."
"And I shall have a message left for your friends." She said happily, enough to almost upset Jaune with the news she'd brought, turning to one of her Grimm as he forced himself to forgive it, She'd not gone off the continent for centuries, probably, so she had to be excited. "Send for Tyrian immediately. I need to have words with him."
Inside ten minutes, Tyrian had arrived to take the message, and they were mounted on the massive Grimm. With three great flaps of its wings they were in the air and off, Jaune clinging to Salem's back like it was his only lifeline. A fact she seemed over-joyed by, and a fact that was frankly true, given that he had no idea how to get a grip on the feathers under him, and how she leaned into him when he wrapped his arms around her stomach.
No matter, really. He had to get to Ansel, because no one could just leave him or his loved ones alone.
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Flametusk :
I am certainly glad that you are enjoying my story so much. Truly, means the world to me.
Blaseing Fire :
Or perhaps neither are. The stories take place at different times. Ozpins later, hers at the beginning. Essentially, you have the end and the beginning, and nothing else. Assuming, of course, either is being honest.
Also, I do have a Discord for theories and talking to me. Not that all the Reviews don't pad my ego out, though. XD
Gizmo Gear :
I need my socks. And my Volte.
Nightshade Dawn :
Glad you're enjoying it.
Smokey Panda :
About that whole Adam being a monster thing… Yeah…
Xealchim :
I mean, not all of them…
Wolfpackrwby88 :
Neither. XD
The Impossible Muffin :
Topping it isn't the point, it's the sharing.
My Spl33n :
I hid a lot actually. If you fine-tooth comb it and compare to Oz's and hers stories on the matter, you can find some. Not all, but some.