footprints in the carpet
Qrow shifts in his seat, poking at the leafy greens upon his plate. He knows that he needs to brighten up; James has invited him to this dinner to celebrate, not to pout.
How can he smile or engage, however, when Clover has been seated right in front of him?
It is no longer discomfort or anger which Qrow feels when looking at the younger, but fear. If Clover finds out what had happened at Brunswick Farms- hell, if James found out through Clover- then would he still be welcome here? Would he still be given a seat at the table, when he had almost allowed the table to crumble to ash before he had even arrived?
He does not trust James. Ruby has always had good instincts, and something in her heart insists that they cannot tell James the truth about Jinn and the lamp; therefore, Qrow will not trust him, either. It's an easy enough task, for he had only ever worked alongside James thanks to Ozpin's orders at the end of the day. The two of them have always been like oil and water, only promising pain the more heat they added to the fire. The fact that he has never even tried to fight James openly is only thanks to their former leader.
As it turns out, however, Ozpin was never like Ruby. He's clearly terrible at picking who to put his faith into, Qrow thinks as he sips his water, grimacing at the flatness of it. Look at Leonardo Lionheart- look at Cinder in her disguise as a student-
Look at Qrow himself. He never should have trusted me. Fat lot of good I've done.
So, Qrow sits there, trying his best to maintain a neutral smile whilst James chatters across the table to the members of the Ace Operatives and the few faculty from Atlas Academy who are helping with logistical management of the Amity Project behind the scenes. The air is lively and bright, words of encouragement and pride flying across salad plates while they wait for the mess hall to finish the next dish.
To his surprise, Clover also does not engage very much with the others. His expression of perfect, personable tranquility rests, just as pristine and poised as ever to the untrained eye; after having spent so much time with him, however, Qrow can tell that something is sincerely, deeply wrong with the younger, his discomfort visible in the slight, quick downward turn of one corner of his mouth, the lack of luster in his eyes, the slightly-hunched shoulders betraying a fatigue that not even Atlesian training can help him hide. What exactly is going on with the younger, though, Qrow does not know.
That is, until the Ace Ops begin discussing their missions.
"I hate to say it, but it's been a real lifesaver to have the rookies around," Harriet says frankly, a grateful smile on her face. "Before we were always scraping by on the skin of our teeth- not enough manpower to go around."
"We were always fine at the end of the day," Vine replies, cutting into his food with movements so robotic Qrow wonders just how much of him is natural. "We have never failed a mission."
Elm's grin would be infectious to anyone other than Qrow. The woman happily says, "Why would we fail? We had Clover on our side, after all."
"I'm sure you all would've been capable of handling it on your own," Clover retorts smoothly, his mask so pleasant that Qrow feels his own slipping away on instinct.
This smug bastard, he thinks as the other members refute these words, praising Clover without hesitation; the response is slight, but Qrow can see the way Clover preens, his shoulders straightening out, grin growing just a little more genuine.
And then, Marrow laughs, "And no matter what, if all else fails, we have Clover's luck, too!"
James laughs heartily, along with the other members of the Ace Ops. The faculty chuckle as well, the air lighthearted and bright as Marrow begins recounting with all the puppy-eyed excitement in the world how their last mission went thanks to their teamwork and Clover's good luck. More stories spring up, one after another, with each Huntsman at the table always ready to give praise to the leader of the Ace Ops whose Semblance has rendered them practically invulnerable.
Qrow's fingers tense, the handles of his cutlery cutting into his palms; of course people would praise Clover, of course his luck makes him so much better-
But any semblance of Clover's joy has fallen away. No longer does he even pretend to smile, his expression as stoic as what they would see on a mission. Qrow has to take in a sharp breath when he sees it, clearing his head of the annoyance and frustration that had been slowly bubbling in his veins. There is no reason to be upset- not when Clover looks as if someone has sucked the soul right out of him. Hell, he looks more comfortable being with me on missions…
But why does he look like he has just been told that he has failed his mission?
Suddenly, James turns to Qrow, the general adding jovially, "Speaking of good Huntsman- thank you, Qrow. For everything. No matter what, I'm glad you're on our side. You're an excellent Huntsman." He pauses, then chides, "You know, if you had been this agreeable in Beacon…"
Qrow blinks for a moment, then chuckles, trying to be as natural as possible; however, those words of praise truly sound foreign coming from James' lips. He quickly tosses back a retort, one which causes James to splutter and the Ace Ops to gawk, the group quickly focusing their attention away from Clover to the older Huntsman at the table. Harriet begins asking about Harbinger, and Marrow asks about his training regime; Elm wants to know how he has managed to maintain his strength despite his lanky frame, and Vine is curious to see how he managed to quell the undeniably-tense emotions of the children during their trip across Anima in order to avoid the Grimm.
Qrow responds to each speaker in kind, giving up on eating his limp salad. The main course is brought out, which he nibbles on with a little more success; his appetite is still sorely lacking, so he is grateful to get the chance to hide his feeble figure by chatting. He rarely gets a chance to speak to the other members of the Ace Ops, after all; after being stuck on missions with Clover almost every day since their arrival, it is refreshing to actually get to know the kinds of people who are training Team RWBY and JNOR. They're not terrible people at all, and soon, Qrow finds himself actually feeling comfortable with the group gathered together that day.
James smiles, putting down his glass after he finishes his meal. "Qrow… Oz would say we're doing the right thing, right?"
Qrow freezes, his ease falling apart at the seams. He does not want to think about Ozpin; he has not dedicated any time to his former mentor's presence since he had promised to Ruby that he would stop drinking, that he would stop drowning his sorrows- that he would stop needing to drown his sorrows. After all, that habit had only kicked in after Ozpin had told him about the war against Salem. He hadn't known what else to do back then- he hadn't been able to handle the truth.
No, not the truth, he thinks wearily, swallowing down emotions which threaten to rise up like vomit. Oz was just as bad as the rest of us. Never said what mattered most.
With these thoughts swirling around in his mind, his smile is shaky at best, although James does not seem to notice. "Either way, we've got to do what we think is right," Qrow replies noncommittally.
Thankfully, that seems to be enough for James, the general smiling gently before turning towards one of the professors at Atlas. As he does so, Qrow finally looks across the table-
Only to realize with a start that Clover is gone.
The meal is drawing to a close anyways, and people have begun standing as they chatter and pile up their dishes. Qrow quickly drops off what he needs to with the kitchen staff, then makes his way around the edge of the hall, trying to catch a glimpse of brunet hair. Why he is looking for Clover, he does not know- the sinking feeling in his gut cannot be ignored, however.
It is on the veranda at one end of the mess hall that Qrow finally finds Clover at last. The younger's face is stoic, mouth set in a grim line as he grips the railing tightly, fingers a stark white peeking out from his black, fingerless gloves. Qrow leans against the wall, crossing his arms and watching Clover for a moment; at his lack of a reaction, however, he finally says, "You're the one who always called me a liability. Why'd the golden boy leave?"
"You are a liability," Clover says, voice just as deadened as his lightless, glazed stare.
Qrow raising a brow, his discomfort steadily rising. "So what's your issue? Dinner didn't sit well with you?"
Clover sighs, hanging his head low beneath his shoulders. Then, he straightens up, sucking in a deep breath as he turns to face Qrow properly again, his expression once again controlled, neutral. "So why doesn't anyone say anything about it?"
What bullshit is he-? "Because most people have more tact than to talk about Semblances constantly," he growls, feeling his own annoyance being replaced slowly but surely by pure anger. "Besides, it doesn't mean I'm a lesser Huntsman."
To his surprise, Clover's mouth twists into a snarl- however, there is no malice there, only fatigue. Defeat. Shame. "Yeah. I guess so." And with those words curling uncomfortably in Qrow's ear, Clover leaves the balcony, giving no one in the room a second glance. All Qrow can focus upon as he leaves is the way the brooch on his lapel shines in the lights of campus, the lucky clover and horseshoe glinting green and silver brilliantly, yet seeming just as utterly lifeless as its wearer.
What's got him so uptight? Everyone's giving him more than enough praise tonight-
And then, he realizes it. Everyone had indeed praised Clover over and over again throughout the night- praised his Semblance, that is. Qrow leans forward onto the railing, head hanging low as he tries to recall every single thing said about Clover that entire evening.
Not a single compliment had been directed towards Clover Ebi as a human being- as a Huntsman. Everything had focused solely upon his Semblance. That's…
His stomach roils in his gut at the mere thought of it, and for the first time, he almost feels empathy for Clover; for the first time, he understands why Clover refuses to look at Qrow as anything but a bad luck charm, if Clover will never be anything but the pin on his lapel.