Identities

Obaz had never been to a formal dance. He had taken to street dancing after finding that all you needed was a flattened cardboard box and your limbs, as it caught enough attention to be a step up from begging for change –but that was a long time ago. He knew how to perform most polite forms of dance, the slow dancing such as waltzing that was taking place here, from having read guides to them. Otherwise, dancing seemed pointless to him, as did many things. However, he would do a great many pointless things if it would take his mind elsewhere right now.

As it turned out, yes, they had chosen to have him serve the punch at the Dance, so he stood at the ready next to a pristine white table offering the juice to anyone who wanted a glass, along with small cubes of cheese and other assorted snacks often found at these types of social gatherings Weiss just had to have. The majority of the doilies she wanted were also at this table in specific, where Yang could hide them but still have them present. Obaz' problem right now was that he had too little to do... and Yang was at the welcome and sign-in position not far from him. His eyes kept getting dragged that way, seeing her outside her uniform or brusque combat setup with a tasteful, yet simple white dress. He just kept looking at her, tearing his vision away, and eventually coming back; and he had absolutely no idea why.

He had considered the possibility of finding her attractive, but told that thought to go back into the box it sprang from and re-engage the lock, as that couldn't possibly be it. He didn't find people attractive, he found them one of two things; tolerable, or not... It must have been the dynamic of seeing her in something so unlike the norm; not the appearance being so stunningly gorgeous, but so greatly different. She caught him looking and winked at one point, and he scowled with an over-emphasis that she seemed amused by. They hadn't spoken yet tonight, as their tasks were to wait for anyone who may arrive at their station for their service. Obaz drank some punch and ate a cheese cube.

So far the dance had been uneventful, but seeing Blake enter with Sun and looking much healthier than before gave him a smirk. After finding out from Sun later that she had in fact done exactly as he foresaw, Obaz would be even more content, as he oh so enjoyed being right. For the first time in a while, his attention was drawn from the entrance as Ruby wound up near his refreshments table, looking at the many dancers shortly after having a short conversation with the Headmaster. Her dress for the dance was her token red hue, and she looked irritated, perhaps a little disappointed... Obaz was tempted to cheer her up.

Could he do that?

"Would you like some punch? Shaken, not stirred." Ruby looked over her shoulder seeing Obaz, and dropped a warm laugh. Apparently, he was on the right track.

"I'd love some, Agent Obaz." He poured her a glass and handed it to her. They watched Yang and Blake take a dance now, among others.

"For a girl attending a dance, you are not dancing much."

Ruby faced him a bit more now, ready to start complaining about her problem all night. "It's these stupid heels. I can hardly walk straight in them; how Weiss actually fight things in these can't be natural."

"Her lifestyle had her learn to wear them at a young age. If you wore clogs, you still would now. If Weiss were to borrow your hood and cape, she would find it gets in the way." She still looked annoyed, like there should be a simple solution to this. Obaz thought for a second, and then stood from his seat, preparing a few glasses near the punch bowl. "The next one is starting soon. Dance with me, if no one else."

Ruby looked shocked almost out of the shoes she hated so much. "W-what? You don't –you don't want to do that, I'll just step on your feet and ruin it."

Obaz shook his head. "I can keep you in line, and in the event that I do not, it will not matter." He raised a hand, looking down at it for words. "I am not sure you realize this, but you have done me a service. You have a knack for seeing the discord in others, and help to uplift their moods from such dire straits. I have managed to learn a little bit of that from you... So, a dance is the least I could offer, even if you might crush my toes."

She was trying to find some other way out, eventually showcasing the table. "You can't leave your post! You're the drink guy!"

"Weiss may be cross with me about it later, but I can leave my position for one dance... You are trying to avoid this. If you do not want to, simply say no, rather than make up excuses. Otherwise, take my hand." He offered his right hand, the one that could still feel contact, palm up. She drew back for a second, but soon set hers in his, and he led her into the midst of the other students, guiding them both into the proper position like a machine built for this purpose.

They made progress between the other couples, Obaz somehow tapping her ankles with his own feet in a way that straightened out her posture and kept her from stumbling. A few times he had to tell her to relax, just go through these motions, ease her grip, but nothing severe. She stepped on his feet four times overall, as she expected, but every time she looked at him apologetically she found that he hadn't even reacted; it paid to have a pain tolerance well above average. After getting her accustomed to the activity, he started to branch out and give her a twirl, drawing her back in, dipping her back or leaning a bit more to the sides when they were meant to mind their space. A smile plastered her face after they managed to get through the dance mostly unscathed, and those together had the choice of either staying with the same partner or dispersing to find others. Obaz let go of his friend, taking a second to commit her to memory as she was right now, enjoying a night she should remember as well as he would. Without really knowing why, he set a hand on her head and ruffled her hair, not overly so.

"If this is what it is like to have a younger sister, I am envious of your elder sibling." Ruby smirked, batting his hand away. They went with smalltalk for a moment, and he knew in the back of his head that this might be her only dance, since as soon as he left her confidence would fade with the first awkward step she took.

"You guys made it just in time!"

Obaz heard Yang say, glancing over to find Mercury and Emerald at the door. Another gut feeling that had paid off, it seemed. Mercury flashed a smirk. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

On polite society auto-pilot, Obaz took Ruby's hand one last time; "I have to work, as you know. Enjoy the rest of your night, Ruby." He kissed the back of her hand and let it go, watching her light up before turning his back on the girl. He had come here for a reason, and that reason had just arrived fashionably late.

Unfortunately, Yang had no care whatsoever for any reasons Obaz may have had.

Right now, Yang's list of guests had been populated in full, and she now had free reign to do as she pleased. She made an exception to her duties in order to give Blake the dance she had promised her, but next in her line of recipients was Obaz, as he had never said exactly what his secret mission was she had no way to know she were hindering it. Soon his arm was swept up by hers, and he was forced away from his outpost, stepping to right himself before he fell. Ruby was standing solemnly at the empty table in his absence, keeping a low profile now that she once again failed to walk. Jaune was beside her soon, but Obaz was turned away from the scene, face to face with Yang.

Like he had with Ruby, she found them a spot and took the lead. His expression was stoic, but a strained one; it was apparent that he was forcing it. "You could have simply requested a dance."

"You would've just said no." Yang rebutted, swaying in tune. "I knew I'd be turning heads tonight, but I didn't think I'd turn yours so much..." She gave him a knowing smirk and half-moon eyes, and his impenetrable poker face cracked a little, just a tiny twitch and a bit of color.

Obaz attempted to find Emerald or her teammates as he slowly spun with the blonde, but navigating the many students in sight was difficult, primarily because his vision kept coming back to the eyes of his current partner, that violet-lilac color he could never quite place. Every synapse in his brain was telling him to let go and retreat, avoid Yang for the rest of the night, but every muscle in his body seemed devoted to this activity he still found meaningless.

"You're not a bad dancer. What can't you do?"

Obaz shrugged. "I cannot sing well. Weiss would be appalled if she ever heard me try."

Yang laughed a little under her breath. "Oh really?"

"That is not an invitation, either. I will not sing for you to mock me, now or ever." The response only seemed to amuse her more.

"That sounds a little more like the Obaz I know... So what've you been up to?" Performing inane duties and activities, while the object of his attention did who knew what nearby.

"Punch and dancing." Was his short and sweet version of that. She seemed to think it was funny.

He caught sight of Mercury and Emerald engaged in the same business he and Yang were, and Emerald was mumbling something. The two were gone just as soon as they entered the space, two pairs now getting further from each other among the many. He frowned.

"Good work, talking sense into Blake." Yang gave him a surprised look, but with a smile.

"How did you know it was me?"

Obaz applied the same spin to Yang as he had with Ruby, only Yang performed it twice before allowing herself to be drawn back in. "Only you are headstrong enough to convince some of your teammates of their worse habits, even if this case may have been aided by a personal experience of yours. Ruby would have cheered her up, but without changing her mindset, and Weiss would have changed her mindset but without an attitude improvement." He was referring to the time she injured her knuckles overdoing her training, but that remark had hit even closer to home than he realized.

Yang gave him a sad expression. "How can you know so much about other people, and so little about yourself?"

"I know plenty about myself."

Yang gave him a challenging lift of the chin. "Fine then, tell me about it."

"I give a rather poor first impression. I come across as uncompromising and machine like, though I am in fact neither of these. I work as a... automotive engineer... infrastructure... analyst... huntsman. I... I like pancakes, they are my favorite food. My name is..." He had progressively paused more between points, as information in his head began to clash. "My name is..."

He stopped dancing, and Yang let him, dropping the stance of this engagement to put a hand on his shoulder, trying to get a better look at his face. He had gone from the slight blush he'd had since this started to sheet white. "Obaz, are you okay?"

They had stopped their slow circles, but the room kept spinning and tilting. He felt weightless, and had to fight a nauseous sensation from climbing to his throat. A chill gripped him so hard and so suddenly he had to wrap his arms around himself, shivering uncontrollably. His vision was swimming with black dots, threatening unconsciousness but never letting him have it.

"Obaz, look at me! Do you need to go to the infirmary?" Obaz looked up to Yang, and his face went from grim, slowly, to bewildered beyond words. After a moment, she saw that he was looking at something behind her, so she turned around. There, in the middle of the room, Team Juniper were dancing in perfect harmony, Jaune at the helm of this little routine –wearing a white dress, a blue sash, and sneakers.

Obaz stood agape for just a bit longer before he stated with the utmost certainty; "I have never slept, never dreamt... but I can only fathom this is a nightmare. Please, wake me up."

Yang nearly died laughing, and Obaz still looked as serious as ever, though he was clearly recovering from whatever illness had come of trying to describe himself. His mind still battled with itself, but the severity of it had died down with the event he was still having a hard time trying to process.

Glynda watched as Ironwood left the dance from the entrance, not surprised that his stay had been short. However, he passed by someone else on the way in, someone she had been waiting for; upon seeing one another, the two had an awkward exchange with the recognition. The remainder of Ironwood's departure looked even more irritated... Soon, Glynda offered greetings to the guest she had personally invited;

"Thank you for taking the time to come, Professor A'Reyons. I realize you are a busy man."

He was the exact same height as she was, as it turned out, though her heels were currently putting her a bit higher. "An invitation to a school dance from one of the esteemed teachers was hardly expected, but not something I would want to pass up. Still, I'm sure you haven't asked me here for lack of a date. You can call me Alastor if you like, though –I hear 'Professor' about as often as you do, probably."

Alastor seemed minutely wary, but prepared to enjoy the occasion out of his lab. His attire was much the same as work, dress clothes and sweatervest, but with a blue blazer overtop. He presented himself well, she thought idly. "You guess right. I have been primarily in charge of Beacon's take on the Khiver case, and though we aren't directly involving ourselves, I prefer to be prepared."

"I couldn't blame you. Most people would want to be prepared for a possible attack by an immortal basket-case..." Immortal? Already it seemed Alastor had something to share... She invited him deeper into dance territory, and on the way she asked him to explain the comment; the man's description of Khiver's semblance, Infinitum, was a shocking one.

"I'm honestly surprised you didn't know. Sliverhang had all resources at hand when it came to Khiver Lybel's potential for danger –they had to, as they were in charge of containment as much as rehabilitation." The mention of Sliverhang Asylum brought her back to the matter she originally had him come here for, and now that she had hooked him and reeled some of the line, it was time to tug.

First, she made sure that she was between he and the exit. "While Khiver is the main topic for discussion, I wanted to ask about something related. Something I was told to ask you about, specifically."

Alastor adjusted his collar. "You're making me sweat here, but go on."

"The Lorelei Incident." The transformation was immediate; Alastor went from slightly anxious to full-blown agitation.

"And who told you about that?"

Glynda paused, thinking of the best way to put this. The truth was ludicrous, but the full truth may mean something to him. "A man I met who was incarcerated with Khiver. For someone committed to an insane asylum, he seemed rather sane." She paused. "Nothing I find is adding up, and there are enough problems in Vale as it is. If you can tell me anything, please..."

Alastor looked around, in search of prying eyes. "How long ago was this dance prepared, and how many were involved?" She gave him a look, but answered him no less. He deliberated on his choices for a bit, but ultimately gave her a nod. "I am only going to say any of this once. What I am about to tell you, you didn't hear from me. Are we clear?"

"... Alright." Glynda said.

"I need you to promise me. This is something that was exeunt from public records." She gave him another look.

"You have my word."

In preparation, Alastor took a deep breath. He was certainly making this out to be as big a deal as she hoped. "Lorelei Noccio, simply put, is the name of Khiver Lybel's madness."

Ms. Goodwitch blinked several times before inquiring just what that was supposed to mean. He gave her the full picture now; "The night three years ago, the one where Khiver attacked the CEO and was found criminally insane? It wasn't because he destroyed his lab, research records, or the assault on Mr. DeCello. It was because the attack itself was over Lorelei Noccio, a researcher Khiver was convinced the CEO suddenly murdered in front of him just to enrage him. He could not explain why; in his words, the CEO had killed her 'just because'." That was obviously going to be difficult to believe as a court defense, but wouldn't be written off as psychosis. If anything, she found it strange that a murder –or blame for one –had ever been laid on Almorté's feet like this.

Alastor went on; "The problem here is that there is no such person as Professor Lorelei Noccio; there are no records at all of a person with this name or likeness working for Omeghis, nor ever living in Vale. Therefore, Khiver attempted to take Mr. DeCello's life over a fictitious researcher. He believed so much that this woman existed that he went into vast detail of his knowledge of and encounters with her, but even then, no records. No body. No witnesses, no statements backing him. Mr. DeCello's hands were clean, and someone other than Khiver should have at least been able to say they'd seen her walking down the hall one day... There was just no proof that this person was ever there. The verdict quickly went to insanity, and for the image of the company as well as Khiver's reputation, the reasons for the verdict weren't made public."

This, without a doubt, was not what she had been expecting. With the inclusion of this, Khiver's incarceration was almost as fishy as that of the two cops, and the fact that they'd formed together trapped in the looney bin no longer seemed like a coincidence. She just wanted to know one thing; "Is there any proof that Lorelei Noccio didn't exist?"

"Well, don't you think anyone would accept the lack of proof that she did as such?"

Now sitting by the punch bowl, Obaz drank a bit of the juice, Yang off to have her fun after making sure that he was fine. Reflecting on the event, much less the fact that he'd worried her in his weakness, forced yet another scowl onto his features. He'd hardly seen or heard anything from or about the Haven students here, and the highlight of the evening to everyone was definitely going to be Juniper.

He was earning nothing by being here, and if there was anything suspicious about Emerald it would have become more obvious, or worse yet a crisis by now. Perhaps it was time to get some air... Obaz aimed for the entrance, but again his arm was stolen for a dance. "Yang, not now. I –!?"

"Not who you expected, I take it?" Emerald was in his hands now, her previous partner now dancing with the black-haired girl of their trio. She hadn't been there before... Obaz' attention was torn from them as the two disappeared, returning him to the possible killer he had come here to watch over. "You've been eyeing me all night, so maybe this'll cool your jets." She had noticed, as he figured she would, even if he hoped she may not.

He managed to get reoriented to the same dance he had led two girls through tonight, though Emerald was apparently bent on making this one a little more interesting. "Who is the other girl from Haven with you?"

"Haven't you ever heard 'one girl at a time'?" She teased. Obaz sighed.

"Do not play games with me. You know what I mean." She pressed a hand to his chest, making it appear she needed him for balance, while searching his breast pocket. She found nothing, as he had come nearly empty-handed, but he took her hand back to its proper location anyway to keep her guessing.

Emerald pouted at him like he was a bartender refusing her another shot. "All work and no play makes Obaz a dull boy... you'll know what you need, when you need to know." She looked proud of that vaguest of lines.

"I do know that you cut Tukson's life short for the White Fang, whether by extension or not." He wanted to say something about her friend analyzing Beacon students, but that could have been chocked up to the approaching tournament. For now, he would play the cards he knew he had, or at least make sure they were the right suit.

She squinted at him. "I thought you said we had no problem?"

"We do not... but I had to be certain. Taking a person's words at face value rarely is wise. While I do not care much for the majority of the students here, or anyone else you might plan to victimize, there are a handful I would need to be sure you had no ill will toward. So, here I am, serving drinks and keeping you in sight." They parted, bowed, and came back together. She searched his back pocket, making him uncomfortable for that half a second.

Emerald's red eyes showed a glint of intrigue, her other hand now holding his left. "Well, well. Who wears armor to a dance? Were you expecting something to go wrong?"

"Check again." She did, and her surprise doubled. "You now know a little more about me. Do you have anything to share?"

She laughed, letting him go after the dance was done. "Nice try, but you'll have to be patient." She waved his scroll in her hand; "No one said I have to, but you do."

Obaz bowed to her again, the arm curled at his chest holding her scroll. She smirked at him, and they both tossed the belongings back to each other. "I say you have to, unfortunately. It may be discourteous to make a lady wait, but fair is fair."

Emerald pocketed her device, mirroring his actions. Mercury and the dark-haired one looked about finished as well, mingling with those around them to some extent –though it was mainly Mercury doing this. "Alright then, Obaz. Better get back to that punch." She waved and took her leave, joining her two comrades. Obaz himself turned back toward the punch table, and saw Yang sitting in the chair he had occupied earlier.

Her legs were crossed, and for the first time tonight, she looked displeased. Only now did it occur to him that, while the other dancers were off in their own little worlds, the off person who was merely watching might have seen the subtle exchange he and Emerald had... and that subtle exchange could easily be mistaken for her getting a little too touchy, with little to no struggle on his part.

Obaz really wished someone would wake him from this nightmare already.