Author's Notes: Backstreets Back, Alright~
Music Choices: Femme Fatale by Coyote Kid, Devil Is Fine by Zeal and Ardor, Unself Portrait by Artificial Language
Eclipse
Chapter 38
Touchstones
The past week or so on campus had been weird to say the least. Not that most of the freshmen knew any better, of course; but most of the older students were all very much aware that something was definitely afoot. However, the rumor mill of Beacon was unusually silent, almost sparse really, of details. What was even stranger, was that the people who would typically be peddling information and gossip to interested parties were totally silent on the topics that everyone wanted to talk about.
Everyone knew that STRQ had gotten into the shit again. This, in itself, was perfectly natural. It would almost be weirder if that particular team had managed to go any length of time without getting into the shit. What was not normal was Professor Arc taking STRQ out for a training session in the wilderness - in, where, Burhhurst? Who and what the fuck lives out in Burhhurst? - and staying gone for over a week.
The younger students were mostly relieved that the Huntress was off grounds currently; because that meant less work for them and less terror over all. The older students, in contrast, were deeply troubled by this absence.
What could possibly keep Professor Arc's attention for so long? What kind of Grimm were they hunting, that would keep them all occupied for over a week? After the trouble with Mountain Glenn, all the surviving upperclassmen were keeping their fingers on the pulse of Grimm related news and hunts surrounding Vale. A collective degree of paranoia had infiltrated the minds of the young Hunters to be; none of them wanted to be surprised like that ever, ever again.
So they paid attention.
A few had even researched the hunts listed in Burhhurst and turned up that STRQ and Professor Arc had taken up a billet for Wurdalaks of all things. Some people accepted this as Arc giving the troublemakers a run around to teach them a lesson, but a few knew better. Most of those who did had all been subject to the little paladin's 'teachings' themselves.
Professor Arc doesn't discipline students by running them around by the nose looking for imaginary Grimm. She kicks your ass directly, tells you how to improve, and then does it again and again, until you get better or until you learn that she is not the one you fuck with.
Professor Arc does not play games. Because she knows that being a Hunter is not a game, and she wants her students to take it deadly serious, too. However, those who were aware of this instinctively knew that they should say nothing about it. So? They kept it to themselves.
That was just the most obvious aspect of the really weird week, too; it got stranger.
People kept showing up on campus. Really...bizarre people.
Now fully grown Hunter's are an admittedly colorful, strange bunch at the best of times. People who willingly sign up to fight bloodthirsty monsters and risk being devoured as a profession are going to be a little bit eccentric. But these guys? Who were showing up, ominously speaking at length and shadowing various Professors, and even following Professor Ozpin up to his office in clusters of twos and threes?
They weren't Hunters, and everyone knew it.
They wore plains-clothes, and might have passed as cops or the like if they hadn't moved a little differently than your average detective. There was something in their eyes too, in the way their fingers ghosted over their holsters, in the thin line of their lips as they glared with flinty eyed contempt at the students that didn't say 'street cop'. These people were as hungry and mean as street cops perhaps, but far and away more disciplined in their movements and mannerisms.
They weren't Hunters, no, but they weren't thugs with guns and badges either; and those students who were a bit more streetwise themselves were well aware of the difference. They were deadlier than the police and they seemed to have full run of the campus.
Rumors about them were surprisingly subdued, at least at first glance. People weren't talking about them in the open. Those that did were quickly encouraged to let it go or were distracted by something convenient. Behind closed doors, though, was an entirely different story.
The teams were talking , and those who were a little faster on the ball than most had drawn a parallel between Professor Arc and team STRQ's oddball mission, and the appearance of these unwelcome creeps on campus. Those who were faster still had decided the best team to interrogate on this subject was ARSN - discretely of course.
But ARSN was having none of it.
Sigyn and Reinhardt especially were known to be incorrigible rumormongers and collectors of information. If you wanted to find out what was going on, or the latest drama, one of them could fill you in for the right price - which was typically an energy drink of their choosing.
However, no matter how many energy drinks, bottles of whiskey, vodka, orange juice or sour gummies were offered at the altar of ARSN? They said not a word in regards to STRQ or Arc, and only the gentlest whifflings about the 'not-cops'; any further badgering was quickly met with Natalia removing one from the premises in her favorite manner. Which, as was tradition, a smidge violent.
So it was, that the students of Beacon were left in the dark, watching the unfamiliar figures coming and going and wondering what it all meant behind closed doors, until Monday rolled around once again; and with neither pomp nor circumstance, Professor Arc and team STRQ returned once again.
…
A loud, rapid pounding on the door. After a few minutes, Natalia's dark head peered out into the hall, a scowl plastered on her face. It was early, and ARSN had not gone to bed until the dawn, as they had stayed up working on one of their various 'projects'.
"Good morning," smiled Rihanna. The leader of the freshman team RAZR was one of the very few people on campus who had made the connection between Professor Arc and STRQ's extended mission and the King's Service personnel poking around on campus; and made a pest of herself ever since.
Natalia did not respond to this greeting, and glared at the blue haired freshmen stoically.
"I'd like to speak to Reinhardt, if that's alright," Rihanna continued calmly. It was not a question. Soothing waves of confidence rolled off of her aura. Natalia's lip twitched in anger.
"Turn your Semblance off, before I fry your serotonin centers," Natalia droned flatly.
Rihanna blinked in surprise, apparently unaware of the extent of Natalia's own abilities and sensitivity to other emotion based Semblances. She tried to recover.
"Oh, sorry! I forgot it was running honestly-"
Sure you did...
"You don't come to our house and think to pull that garbage to get your way," Natalia continued without affect, slowly sizing the freshman up. " Never, try that again . Do you understand?"
Rihanna did not wince, but her face had slipped from assured to cautious as she took measure of Natalia. She nodded once. Natalia huffed softly through her nostrils, unimpressed.
"We told you to buzz off once already. Leave, before I assist you."
Rihanna held her palms up in another attempt to placate, but at least had the sense to turn off her Semblance.
"That was my fault. I was talking to a teacher earlier and haha, left it up without thinking," the freshman backpedalled. "I'm sorry."
"Cool story, Sorry. Now go away," Natalia shut the door in her face without further ado.
"I've got some news you guys might want to hear, actually-"
"No, you don't," Nat grumbled her way back into the dorm room.
"STRQ is back!"
Natalia paused, glancing towards the beds where her teammates were still asleep and snoring. Sigyn wasn't even in her bed, having curled up in the bean bag pile at some point; all that could be seen was a tuft of wild, pink hair.
I leave her out there, she's going to shout this garbage for the whole school to hear, isn't she?
And that was the last thing they needed.
Nat exhaled, her shoulders sagging like a stone.
"And Professor Arc-"
The door flung back open. Rihanna's eyes widened in surprise as Nat grabbed her shoulder and yanked her inside with a quiet yelp.
"Hey-"
"Shut up," Nat groused firmly. "They're sleeping. We talk in there."
She steered the freshman into the kitchenette, which was a wild explosion of dirty dishes, pizza boxes and empty liquor bottles. Rihanna's eyes ghosted over the mess, but she kept any opinions on the chaos to herself; so she had some sense of tact, at least.
Natalia shut the door to the dorm, and poured herself some coffee; they always had coffee in the pot, at all hours. Running out was not an option, as all of their team were voracious caffeine addicts with insane sleep schedules. Nat drank her's black, as always.
She sipped from the chipped mug, glaring flatly at the newcomer. Rihanna had recovered her composure, and looked completely at ease as she leaned casually against the refrigerator. Nat, however, was not fooled by this.
"What do you want?" Natalia prompted after a moment.
Rihanna smiled warmly, slipping into her natural charisma instinctively in an attempt to charm her.
"I want a lot of things, to be honest-"
"Cut the shit," Nat said, sipping further.
Rihanna floundered briefly once again, clearly off-put by Nat's inability to be charmed or affected by her. Natalia could immediately sense that the younger girl wasn't malicious or narcissistic, but she was used to people being disarmed by her charisma, good looks, and in extreme cases, Semblance; and she was aware of the effect she had on people, and knew how to use that to get information if necessary.
"Ok," the freshman tossed blue locs out of her eyes. "I want to know why the King's Service is running around on campus. And what that has to do with Professor Arc and STRQ being gone for so long."
"A coincidence, as far as we know," Natalia shrugged without blinking. "Just because these things happen around the same time, doesn't make them connected."
Nat didn't bother to ask how the other girl knew the agency the people in plains-clothes were a part of. ARSN had only figured that out recently for themselves, and they had inside information. Nat released the chokehold she had on her Semblance, allowing it to ghost over the other girl's aura gently, studying her surface emotions further without intruding.
If Rihanna was aware of this, again, she didn't comment.
"Uh huh, see I get that," Rihanna smirked a little, letting her eyes roam around the kitchen. "And you know, normally, I'd shrug it off. But I also heard these people asking some of the Professors about STRQ, specifically. It doesn't take much to put two and two together, you know?"
Natalia shrugged blithely.
"Cool. So what?"
Rihanna's gaze pulled back around as she tried to study her further. After a moment, she laughed, a little bewildered.
"What do you mean, so what?" she asked.
"What does that have to do with us?" Natalia asked, sounding bored.
She's here for a handful of weeks and is 'listening in' on teacher conversations with the King's Service?
Rihanna sighed a little, pushing her locs behind her ear.
"Well, I heard you guys were the ones in the know . I thought you might be interested to hear some things. But maybe I misunderstood?"
"Maybe you did," Natalia droned. "So are you going to ask for whatever it is you actually want before my drink gets cold?"
Rihanna stared at her briefly, eyes genuinely amused.
"Man, I'm really going to have to get used to this!" Rihanna laughed, her brown eyes glittering. "Sorry, I'm still trying to adjust to other people being so direct - it's considered a little rude where I'm from actually? I was always in trouble for it, but here ha, I'm behind the curve! I'm still adapting to Valish ah...forthrightness. It's refreshing, though, honestly. You're my kind of people."
Natalia blinked apathetically, unimpressed. However she took note that the freshmen was not from Vale. Yet, she did not have a noticeable accent from one of the other Kingdoms.
Perhaps a Settler? Mm. No, not quite.
"Well, I'll try to get to the point then! I heard about mentorships being a thing," Rihanna grinned easily, still maintaining an air of relaxed confidence as she folded her arms. Nat could sense that, for the most part, said confidence was sincere. "And I wanted to pick STRQ out to be my team's mentors - but I can't exactly do that if the King's Service wants to nip them up, can I?"
Natalia's only response to this was a slowly curving brow.
"So yea, I just want to know why the Service is interested in them," Rihanna shrugged after a moment. "Since it really puts a wet blanket on my own plans."
Nat took a slow breath, before nearly draining her coffee.
"First," Natalia set her cup down on the counter. "You can't pick who your mentors are going to be. That's up to Professors. Also, mentors are always third years. Even if the Service wasn't….allegedly interested in them. They couldn't be your mentors. Second years' schedules are too fast paced to fill that role."
Rihanna frowned lightly, glancing away in thought.
"None of the um, remaining, third year teams are suited for guiding my team, though," Rihanna muttered. "I already checked."
Natalia took that moment to pour herself more coffee.
"Checked how?" Nat asked stonily.
Rihanna smiled innocently.
"I might have read their profiles."
Nat nodded, unsurprised by this point.
"Student profiles are supposed to be encrypted and stored on a terminal that is not connected to any outside networks," Natalia observed, sipping. "It took Reinhardt a long time to find a way to get into them. How did you manage it so fast?"
Rihanna beamed further.
"I examined the physical copies," she grinned cheekily. "No hacking, no fuss. Well...no computer fuss, anyways. That's not my forte anyways."
"And those copies are where?" Natalia asked, impressed despite herself.
"Ozpin's desk."
What the fuck?
A brief silence fell between them as Natalia tried to get further read on the other girl, before snorting in droll amusement.
"Wow," Natalia said drolly. "That's crazy."
"It was pretty stressful, I won't lie," Rihanna chuckled, running her fingers through her hair. "That guy gives me the willies, too, you know? Brrr! But it was worth it, because I know everything I need to know about the other teams. And I also know that STRQ would be the best for RAZR in terms of mentorship."
Need to know? She didn't just break into the Headmasters office because she's hunting mentors. What is this girl up to, hm?
"Why are you telling me this much?" Natalia asked.
"Because, Natalia! I want to know why the King's Service is interested in STRQ. And I am being forthright with you, as is Valish tradition! So that you will be forthright with me," Rihanna slapped her knee. "Annnd I am also hoping you will not rat me out to the teachers."
"We need to verify a few...leads first," she admitted. "But if they are back on campus, why not simply go ask them yourself?"
I'm sure they would not react poorly to that at all.
"Look, Natty-"
"Try again"
"-Natalia," Rihanna scooted closer, folding her hands. "I am begging you. I have given you so much ammo, sell it all, don't care, but I gotta know! I am on my hands and knees here-"
"I don't recommend that. We need to clean."
"Please, Natalia, come on!" Rihanna threw her head back. "What else do you want!"
"Who the butt-noodling fuck is shouting in there?" Reinhardt groaned from his bed in the other room.
"The tv. It's off now. Go back to sleep," Natalia sighed.
"Nyehhhh," Reinhardt groaned.
Rihanna grinned sheepishly for all of five seconds.
"Look. I don't know you. So? I don't trust you," Natalia shrugged. "I don't sell to people I don't trust, and neither do the others. It's not personal. It's just business."
It is personal, though. These are my friends, whom I will be informing all about your interest for free.
"I see you are trying to be forthright. But you've got an agenda, and could be trying to harm them," Natalia sipped quietly. "Which - if you value your teeth staying in your head - you will not attempt. It won't work out well."
Rihanna sighed in chagrin, though her self assuredness did not waver.
"Ok. Fair enough. What do I need to do then, to earn said trust? You and I both know I can't just waltz up and ask them, especially with the Service buzzing around."
Natalia drummed her fingers on the chipped mug thoughtfully, before smiling languidly.
"You could run an errand for us," Natalia offered.
Rihanna squinted cautiously, but her smile did not fade.
"Uh huh. What kind of errand?"
"Nothing someone who breaks into the Headmaster's office on a whim will be worried about," Natalia droned, setting the mug down on the counter behind her. "You do this, and I will share what we learn. But ."
"Buuuut?"
"If we don't discover what you want to know, or tell you something you don't want to hear? And you try to use anything we do tell you against us, or STRQ?" Natalia leaned forward, her face grim. "I will kill you. Understand?"
Rihanna blinked again, before chuckling and holding her hand out.
"Perhaps we aren't from such different places afterall, Natalia," Rihanna winked, shaking her hand warmly. "It's a deal."
"Mm. Deal."
Little one gotta heed my warning
Devil is kind
They'd been waiting for them at the landing strip. Plains clothes officers, identified only by their gold and green badges that they barely flicked their way as they'd closed in around them. They didn't get a chance to speak, before Professor Arc brushed past and led the way back towards Beacon, STRQ on her heels. The Service members had no choice but to rally and follow after them, acting as if they were their escorts and not just along for the ride. Despite a few officer's trying to pepper them with questions, none of them said a word in reply.
It had still been early when they had arrived, but a few early bird students had immediately noted their arrival; and their entourage. STRQ and Joan said nothing, seemingly focused only on reaching Beacon tower
The ride up in the elevator to one of the off limits floors in Beacon tower had been crowded, a little smelly, and full of angry glares from the ragged looking plains-clothes who were not used to being treated as petty nuisances and already had big chips on their shoulders considering the circumstances.
Joan had led the way out of the elevator, marching towards the recognizable figures of Regalia, Verdant, and Ozpin who had been speaking at the end of the hall by one of the rooms used for interrogation. Why Beacon had any interrogation rooms at all was a question perhaps for another day, as STRQ did not comment on it.
They didn't comment on anything, and in fact, collectively stared with bored disinterest at the people who had summoned them up for questioning. Arc had folded her arms, glaring with open challenge at Verdant and Regalia.
"Well then!" she'd clipped out before they could say anything. "Let's get this over with, shall we? My students are tired, and the sooner this ends, the faster we can all get a shower and a meal."
"My apologies for the...inconvenience, Professor," Verdant had tipped his head a little. "But I agree! Sooner we get this on, the better for everyone, eh?"
Ozpin's eyes had glittered a little dangerously at that. Only those who had been looking had caught it, before the veil had dropped once again.
"Indeed."
Nobody gonna show you the way now
Nobody gonna hold your hand, no
Raven glared with droll disinterest at the egg-white brick of the wall in front of her. She wasn't really present, to be honest. She was thinking about the future.
She was alone, currently. Arc and STRQ had been split up into the different rooms, in an attempt to interrogate them one by one and get them talking. They did not have lawyers, and Raven seriously doubted they would get lawyers. Something something the Service can hold you for twenty four hours without representation something something Ozpin's presence counts as blah blah blah.
She hadn't really been listening. The only thing that would keep them safe right now, was their unified dedication to silence. They didn't have to talk to the King's Service. Or to Ozpin. No one.
The only evidence these idiots had was a hunch and a shit ton of conjecture. Suspicion. Nothing factual, nothing concrete.
All they had to do was hold out. She was a little concerned about the others, namely her brother. She knew Verdant would stress Qrow out, and there was nothing she could do to protect him at the moment. However, she also knew he wouldn't break either.
Can't lose the game if you refuse to play.
Time passed. Maybe an hour or two. Maybe longer. Raven was busy in her head, and lost track. If they expected her to sit there sweating anxiously, then they had another thing coming. She could feel her teammates' bonds, and the emotions flickering over them in an intricate concert. She let herself brush over her teammate's bonds like touchstones, keeping her grounded in reality.
Empathy. Pride. Love. Defiance.
Love. Comradery. Patience. Humor.
Love. Confidence. Kindness. Joy.
No one was cracking. No one was sweating it out. No one believed that the others were giving up the ghost, or flipping, either.
Raven had to resist the powerful urge to smirk, especially as the door opened.
Welcome to my parlor, bitch.
Regalia strode in, trying to exude the same authoritarian confidence she'd possessed during their first encounter barely two weeks ago. Raven glanced at her fingernails in boredom, leaning back in her chair; another figure followed after the woman. Raven didn't bother to look his way.
She focused coolly on her breathing. In. And out.
Regalia pulled a chair out across from her and took a seat quickly, setting a fat, manila folder on the table between them. She paused momentarily, pretending to be fishing in her pocket, before pulling out a recorder and setting it down firmly next to the folder, pressing a button to record.
"State your name for the record," Regalia said. Her tone lacked it's previous contempt and righteousness, and was cold. Angry.
Aww, someone's not getting her way, is she?
Raven stared at the brick wall over Regalia's shoulder, checking out for a bit. She did not have to state her name for the record. She did not have to say anything at all.
Regalia snorted in irritation, ticking something down on a clipboard. It didn't matter.
"Raven Branwen," Verdant walked around, passing behind Regalia's chair. Trying to enter her field of vision. She didn't even blink. "That your given name, Rae?"
In.
Love. Confidence. Kindness. Joy.
Out.
Regalia ticked something else off. Raven highly suspected the paper on her little clipboard was blank, and she was trying to psych her out. A pathetic attempt, really.
"Let the record show that the subject has refused to identify herself."
Raven glanced dryly at her student id in the pile of paperwork that Regalia was deliberately shuffling through.
Sure, sweetie.
Verdant took a seat next to Regalia, and slapped his palm on the table between them. Raven didn't even flinch, or glance at the hand, while Regalia gave her boss an irritated look. Verdant grinned his wolfy grin, pointing a scared, pale finger her way.
"Didn't even look! Damn. She's not worried at all, Reggie!"
If she didn't know better, she would think the fool sounded proud of her.
"Or she has lots of experience being questioned by the police," Regalia muttered, some contempt finally bleeding into her voice.
Raven yawned lightly, settling in for the long haul. Verdant grinned further, while Regalia's irritation mounted.
"We have some questions regarding your location and activities for the past-"
Raven tuned out. Regalia talked at her for a good five minutes before she finally realized that Raven was not currently present, and was not engaged in her questioning at all. The poor little Lieutenant was growing visibly angry, but Raven let her thoughts wander.
-Fingers snapping in front of her face. Whistling.
"Heyo, come on back, chica! We're just gettin started," Verdant beamed.
Again, Raven didn't flinch. She wasn't worried about them trying to lay hands on her. She knew that Arc would be through that wall so fast, Regalia and Verdant would think their necks had wrung themselves. Not to mention, Ozpin would likely be displeased - but who could say for sure with him.
"Watcha know about magic, Raven?" Verdant asked suddenly, trying to get a reaction out of her. Regalia glanced his way in surprise, before refocusing on her.
Raven considered what she and Taiyang would do that weekend, considering she had won their bet and got to choose where they would go. He had so many random interests, sometimes it was hard to keep track - he did like space. Astronomy. Maybe the big astronomy center Vale had?
"Come on, you don't have any questions about magic at all?" Verdant cocked his head, a disturbingly familiar gesture that made her stomach drop a little. "I know Nwyfre doesn't tell you a damn thing half the time, does she? Or any of the others she's runnin around with - they always act like they know more than what they do, and hold information over you to feel powerful. Don't they?"
No. They try to hold things back out of fear for our safety, because they love us. Misguided perhaps, but not malicious.
Cunning. Ferocity. Love. Resilience.
Raven inhaled and exhaled in slow rhythm, as if practicing a kata.
His inability to empathize is an exploitable weakness. He'll make assumptions about my motivations.
She could use that later. Hells, she could use that right now.
He isn't realistically that powerful of a magic user, and overestimates his own knowledge due to his hubris. He's a powerful skinchanger, yes; but he doesn't know about the aetheri or anything else, like the jiani or Maidens. He thinks that because he knows things others don't, that means he knows everything there is to know. If I let him think I'm interested in his knowledge, he will fuck up eventually. He can't help himself.
Raven glanced at Verdant coolly. He smirked, nodding a little. As if he knew what she was thinking. As if he could ever possibly fucking empathize with anything she thought or felt.
Suddenly, she didn't know whether to hate him or to pity him; after a moment, she stuffed the unwelcome emotions down. Apparently, Taiyang had been right. She would need to keep that in mind, going forwards.
She raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue.
"Uh uh," he wagged his index finger. There was a scar there, one that she suddenly remembered. He'd cut himself to the bone while fishing one day, and had had to wrap the digit, keeping the flap of skin pressed to the digit - he hadn't had aura to heal it, yet.
He'd gone his entire adult life without power: without a Semblance, without aura, without magic. All while living outside a Kingdom, with a tribe who had been on the ropes and had isolated all potential allies.
Things were….beginning to add up.
Raven felt a sudden bubble of concern, as she realized that the longer she sat here, the more she would remember. Whether she wanted to or not. She also knew that this was what he wanted. Which indicated that, perhaps, he could empathize with her just a little.
She honestly didn't know what was worse.
"You gotta work with us first, Rae," he leaned back, smacking the table again. "I got questions, Regalia has questions, the bloody King has questions - and I know you got the answers! You can give them to us- or? We can make your life pretty damn miserable until you do. But I promise you: if you work with me? All this shit goes away, and I will teach you everything I know about skinchanging."
Just going to throw it all out there, huh? Pretense be damned.
Going off the look on Regalia's face, Raven knew that this offer was not exactly true. Or Regalia did not want it to be true, anyways. The falcon woman jumped back into the conversation, driving to go on the offensive.
"Who was it that broke into the castle and attacked Adria, ingrate?" Regalia asked, golden eyes dark with fury. "How did they do it?
Good cop, bad cop. Are they fucking serious?
Raven glanced away and went back to staring with bored fixation at the wall behind Regalia. Regalia leaned forwards, eyes dangerous.
"You think I can't wait? I can. You degenerates kill my people, leave a trail of destruction all over Vale - you think I can't out last you?"
Raven didn't answer.
"Because I can. I'll make sure someone pays for this. You made it personal when you killed my people, and terrorized Valish citizens-"
Oh yea, like you care about Valish citizens, you smarmy, slave-catching cunt.
"Who wiped out two of my convoys? Was it that bitch you call a mother? How did she do it?"
Bet you wouldn't call her a bitch to her face, little piggie.
"Reg-"
"You think she's going to get away with this?" Regalia hissed, leaning into her personal bubble. Trying to get a rise out of her. "She's done, Branwen. You're all done. All of this is going to catch up to Nwyfre as soon as we leave campus. We know she's still in the region, and we are going to find her and every one of the prisoners she's running wild with. We also know she can't get home without your help. They're trapped."
MMmmm. Wrong. Try again.
"While you sit here, doing nothing? The noose is tightening around her neck," Regalia glowered, trying to menace her.
Raven's lip twitched as she fought to keep from laughing.
They're already in the wind, idiot.
"Reggie-"
"Sir, respectfully, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't keep trying to undercut us here," Regalia swung around, glaring at Verdant.
"Respectfully, you can watch your fuckin attitude, Lieutenant," Verdant drawled. "Cuz I am right up to here with your catty bullshit today."
Raven didn't buy into the theatrics. There was no division. There was only her vs the King's Service.
She dipped out mentally once again, refusing to pay attention to their fake-ass argument. Good cop, bad cop was basic, but it could be very convincing if you made the mistake of thinking there was any division between the establishment peons trying to shake you down. Human and faunus psychology often drove one to seek allies, especially when one's 'survival' or safety was in question. The secret was to remember that one had no allies in a room full of bacon.
After a few minutes, she checked back in. Regalia was fuming at her, because Raven had not answered any question or reacted to her fake drama with Verdant; and Verdant was studying her, his eyes full of cunning.
Raven yawned. Regalia looked ready to have an aneurism and she almost snickered aloud. Verdant dipped in before Regalia could start up asking her same questions over and over again.
"Take a break, Reggie!" Verdant suddenly clapped Regalia's shoulder. "Go check on Summer again, huh? Ya'll were getting along earlier."
Pfft. Liar. What a cheap shot.
Raven didn't flinch, staring at the wall as Regalia scooted back and stalked angrily out of the room. Verdant shuffled over until he was seated in front of her, and turned the recorder off.
The room fell into stiff silence. The silver of the one way mirror reflected their images coldly; and Raven knew they were being watched currently. Though by just who, or what, she couldn't say for certain anymore, could she?
That was the thing about Knowledge. It flung open new doors along the endless corridor, but never shut them even after you passed them by; and sometimes, dark nameless things crept through the archways and followed after you when you weren't looking.
"How's the leg doin, Raven?"
She inhaled quietly, gently.
One, two, three, four.
Hold.
Exhale, two, three, four.
"Seriously," he waved a hand in front of her face.
Gods, you're so fucking entitled-
"I really wasn't trying to wing you the other night. You know that right?"
I don't care what you were trying to do, you goddamn loser. Your motivations are not fucking relevant to me, and never will be .
In for one, two, three, four.
Hold.
Exhale, two, three, four.
"...Are you seriously doing breathing exercises right now?" he chuckled after a moment, squinting at her perceptively. His laugh sounded far too close to Qrow's for comfort. "Is that what you've been doing the whole time? Just straight meditating?"
He was unfortunately insightful like Qrow too, in his own way; but something fundamental was missing. It was like the man was a hollow, more vicious version of her brother. Capable of perceiving, but sometimes struggling to empathize with certain elements of humanity. All cunning and teeth and savagery, hidden behind a convenient, shifting mask that always matched the occasion. Or whatever he wanted other people to see.
A fact that also was starting to hit a little closer to home.
Oh no. He's not like Qrow at all , is he?
She glanced at their reflections in the one-way mirror briefly. And in that moment, she could see the resemblance. In their faces, in their eyes, in the brief glints of hunger and cunning and calculation-
Stop giving him space in your head. He is like fucking Grimm matter . The more space he has access too, the more he corrodes.
She reached out to her 'touchstones' once again.
Empathy. Pride. Love. Defiance.
Love. Comradery. Patience. Humor.
Love. Confidence. Kindness. Joy.
She started to relax again, and refocused on the wall.
Be the wall.
Embody the wall.
Manifest the motherfucking wall.
It didn't matter if they had similarities in character, because he didn't matter. He gave up the right to call himself her father years and years ago. He didn't get to come back like this and act like she and Qrow owed him anything. She was her own person, no thanks to him.
However, considering her long term strategy was to kill him, perhaps she could show vulnerability here and sow the seeds needed to achieve victory-
But wouldn't that mean you're just like him?
No. Everything I learned, I learned from my true family. The Branwen and the Crom Cruach are different animals.
But...that's not entirely true, is it? Look at him.
Raven glanced at the reflection again. He was glancing at the reflection, too, following her gaze.
Memories were swarming to the surface once again, things she had snipped away from the branches of her soul to save herself. Things she didn't want to invite back into her heart, because if she did, she would see that the Crom Cruach had been victims of the same forces set against every other tribe on Remnant and had fallen prey to those same forces; not because they were weak, but because they were tired and alone, and overwhelmed and alone, and struggling and alone-
"I know that this is all...probably very overwhelming," he said, watching her reflection. "And I am sorry. Even if you don't believe that yet, I want you to know that I am sorry. And I am trying to fix this shit."
Anger. Boiling, overwhelming, all consuming anger. Anger she hasn't felt in years, the kind that drives all other functions from your brain, shuts down everything else, eats you alive, black as night-
FURY.
"...You're sorry ?" she whispered, looking away from the mirror and meeting his gaze with needle-sharp fury.
He paused, maroon irises squinting slightly as he met her own crimson.
"What exactly," she asked softly, her voice nearly alien with menace. "Are you sorry for ?"
Gods' help her, she could see it. The calculations running behind his eyes, as he tried to empathize with and deduce what she was feeling, so he could respond appropriately. It was such a familiar thing, that permanently struggling mechanism striving forever to understand another human being's emotions - to make other people's motivations make fucking SENSE for once - that it made bile rise in her throat.
It was like looking in a mirror turned on its head. She wanted to punch him.
She wanted to kill him.
"You know."
I have never hated like this. I have never raged like this. It is eating me alive. It is turning me into fire.
I am burning .
Verdant folded his hands on the table, meeting her gaze directly.
"Everything. I'm sorry for everything-"
"You don't even know, do you?" she whispered, a portrait of violence painting her tongue and mind. "You're just saying what you think I want to hear."
His hesitation turned into a matching glare. Tit for tat. Fur mirroring feathers, ruffling up. However he didn't interrupt her or snap. He was still trying to study her - he hadn't made the connection yet.
He hadn't realized yet that they ran at nearly identical frequencies.
That's not true, though. It isn't that simple-
How did this happen? She hadn't seen this fool in years, how did she turn out remotely similar to him, it wasn't fucking fair-
Stop being melodramatic. You aren't the same person, but of course you're going to have similarities. That doesn't mean it's the end of the world. Get over it! If you let him under your skin, you'll never win!
Raven forced herself to breathe, honing in on her bonds once again. Finding her touchstones, the things that reminded her not only of the people she loved and cared about, but herself also. Because, as she was slowly coming to realize, we are not only the sum of ourselves; we are the sum of the people we love and care for as well.
Ferocity. Cunning. Love. Resilience.
...Right. There I am.
There you fucking are. There we ALL are. You can win, but you have to fucking HOLD ON! If he drags anything else from you, then it is his victory! Manifest that motherfucking wall! Right here, right now!
For a brief moment, Raven imagined that she could see herself wearing the helm of the Morrigan in the mirror.
Do it! You are more than the sum of your suffering! DO IT! NOW! DON'T GIVE HIM AN INCH!
The doorways in the eternal corridor were slamming open in rapid succession, and nameless things were flooding out as she stared into the mirror.
This was all more than just Raven's imagination, but she didn't have the language to describe what was happening yet. There was magic here, running rampant and wild in her mind and emotions; but it was a magic that was too internalized at this moment for her to be able to recognize it and name it outright.
Because mantles choose those who will ultimately wear them next; and the line of succession is determined by the ripples and threads of wyrd. And these threads had begun to latch on to Raven's orlog - her overarching spiritual fate - years and years ago; from the moment she had followed that little dead boy into the woods and entered the Hedge on one of Hecate's nights.
They had chosen her, specifically, as they had chosen nearly every successor of the Morrigan; since the first person who would bear the mantle, to the last.
Since that night years ago, these threads had hibernated within the fabric of her soul, plucking gently. Not causing disruption or destruction, no, but pulling her ever closer and closer despite the storms and obstacles; navigating to the moment where she would ultimately get to choose whether or not she would pick it up or not.
All tribe leaders come to this Knowledge in the end, one way or another. The Knowledge that one is mostly chosen by their mantle, and guided throughout their individual life, to that moment where they get to choose to pick it up or not. Save with certain exceptions.
One day? Raven would know that, too. But today was not that day.
All she knew was that, in this moment, she had to hold on and not give this motherfucker another inch.
"Listen, you can hold shit against me for as long as you like," he held his palms up. "I get it-"
Raven focused on the wall, breathing slowly, quietly.
"-but if any of this is going to go away? Then Raven, you need to talk to me."
Hmm. No. I don't think I will.
And she didn't.
Raven didn't say another thing for the rest of the day.
They held her in that room and questioned her for twenty-four hours.
Little one where you going with that knife?
The Devil is kind
