Hello. I moved. I took another job. More money. More work. Yes, even more work. Cy thinks there might be something wrong with me. Wolfe knows there is definitely something wrong with me. Honestly, I am getting old enough that I know I can't stay in field construction indefinitely. So I jumped all over an opportunity to start making money without breaking my back.

Want to really make fun of me? When I took the job, my new co-worker was watching me muddle through some spreadsheets and asked, "When was the last time you worked with spread sheets?"

I answered, "Well you may or may not remember something called Lotus…"

Yeah I'm an old man trying to retrain himself. I'm more than a little scared I might mess up what could very well be my last chance at significant professional advancement. Because of this… well I've been in maximum effort mode, so I haven't progressed much with writing.

But now, well Wolfe has been patient, but the outline was approved back in January. So time to get back at it.

Guess what though? There is some good news. Some very good news!

Beta Paulternative has arrived!

Yeppers. A new poor bastard has joined the team.

Let's do this.

Qrow wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting out of this conversation, but this wasn't it.

"What?"

Goodwitch glared, she never liked repeating herself. "I will be returning to Vale."

Qrow blinked slowly but was too confused to be wary, "When?"

Glynda closed her eyes. Her face looked positively… something. Hard to describe actually. Bitter with a hint of constipation? When she opened her eyes, Qrow was pretty sure she wasn't quite looking him in the eye. "I will attend Ghira Belladonna's event, then I'll go home to reclaim Beacon."

Qrow tried to process, and while processing, started to feel his temper rise. Maybe Glynda's unusual, well her unusual everything, emboldened him, but Qrow started to become legitimately angry. "So you are going to hang out for a couple of weeks, just for some fancy shindig, then leave? Just like that?" Glynda, ever so subtly, winced. "This has gotten way bigger than Beacon now!"

"Yes, but not bigger than Vale." Qrow almost jumped out of his own skin when Ozpin, and it was Ozpin, stepped forward. "Qrow. Vale needs to be stabilized. Reclaiming Beacon will instantly lessen the tension and negativity for the entire Kingdom."

Qrow, tried to tamp down his temper, but fear and frustration made that difficult. "Oz…"

Ozpin lifted a hand to stop him. "Vale is in crisis. Right now the kingdom is suffering both from a distinct lack of trained Hunters and distinctly low morale. The school needs to be saved."

Qrow folded his arms. "Okay then, have her go save the school. We'll wait. Be more productive than some stuffy party."

Ozpin smiled sadly. "It's not that simple. Glynda is highly respected and even lauded by both Vale and Atlas. Her soothing presence at Chieftain Belladonna's gala is Vale's next best chance for making successful diplomatic inroads with Atlas. A solid chance to stabilize diplomatic relations before the political chaos worsens."

Qrow rolled his eyes, and his tone remained doubtful, "I guess, I kind of get that. Kind of." Qrow forced fire into his voice, "But having her bail completely?!"

Ozpin sighed, gave a distinctly odd look to Glynda, "Glynda is the most gifted combatant—"

Qrow snapped, "I know! Which is why we need her now!" Qrow pointed at the Relic on Ozpin's belt, "Salem hasn't exactly gotten what she wants, you know! What happened to all that, 'Takin the long view' stuff yer always spoutin!"

Ozpin smiled sadly, "I am taking the long view. I always take the long view." Qrow winced a bit. "Right now, Vale is in the midst of the largest political crisis since the Great War. A crisis that rather prominently features a Dust embargo, fiscal instability, and a terrified populace. Protests are mounting. Thankfully, nothing violent yet, but this is still an explosively dangerous situation. Vale, more than ever, needs Beacon." Qrow opened his mouth, but Ozpin stalled him by waving his hand. "Qrow, you know Beacon is more than a building. It needs people. People with a pedigree that both students and faculty will respect and follow. Otherwise we may as well wait until the Grimm come for all of Vale."

Qrow swallowed. Slowly, he nodded. It was hard to argue with that kind of logic.

Ozpin smiled indulgently, "You should also remember something important, Qrow. For now, this Relic is inert. And while it is inert, we would be foolish to not take advantage of the limited freedom this fact grants us. The fact that should Salem magically gain possession of the Relic even at this very moment, it would still be another age before she could use it." Qrow looked at Oz, but couldn't help but notice Glynda. She was obviously furious, her stance was beyond stiff and her face looked almost nauseated. Qrow also realized Oz was deliberately choosing not to notice.

There was a whole story in that one expression, that much was obvious. In spite of his nature, Qrow was glad he'd missed that meeting. There must have been some serious fireworks.

Oz coughed to get Qrow's undivided attention. He smiled, "So Qrow, should push come to shove, and if the worst happens, I am more than willing to trade the Relic to keep your nieces, their friends, indeed all of my students, safe."

Qrow felt his outrage vanish as shame entered his heart. Of course Oz had seen right through him. Qrow closed his eyes to gather himself before looking Remnant's guiding hope in the eyes, "I'm sorry Oz. I wasn't thinking."

Ozpin offered a sympathetic smile, "It's not as if Salem knows the name of the Spirit anyways. There are safeguards, Qrow. I promise you that."

Qrow nodded and then looked into Glynda's face for confirmation. He could literally see her seething rage. That made it worse. Much worse. Glynda loved her students. She loved Beacon. This mission is something she should be craving, but right now she obviously hated the thought of abandoning Ruby, Firecracker, and their friends. Yet, she too bent to Ozpin's insight, all the while hating the fact he was right.

Qrow tried to cheer her up, "I'll watch them. I promise."

Glynda's eyes narrowed on Qrow, "You will do so sober."

Qrow offered a sheepish smile, "Hey…"

The words fell from her lips as something in Glynda's façade seemed to crack. Her voice even had a discernible waver to it. "Qrow, please, if ever I needed you at your best..."

Qrow saw through Goodwitch's armor for the first time in decades. He saw the pain she always hid so well. The pain and loneliness of someone who had lived their life for others at the cost of something fundamental to themselves. Before Ruby, Summer had that expression. Qrow guessed that he himself sometimes had worn that face. The expression of someone who always got to watch others be happy, until something buried deep inside you began to resent it.

Endlessly standing in the cold, watching flowers bloom through a warmly lit window, all the while knowing this was a home that would never be yours.

Qrow unhooked his flask, undid the cap, and held it upside down until it was no longer even dripping. "We'll send word every chance we get. No matter how much General Roboprick complains. I promise."

Glynda smiled. A real smile. For a moment, Qrow was convinced she might hug him. Instead she told him, "If James complains, even in the slightest, just remind him of what happened to the water miners under the Oasis."

Qrow barked a laugh. Giant water crystals, each worth tens of millions of lien, were the source of the Great Oasis in Vacuo. Touching those under any circumstances was basically an act of war against the nation of Vacuo. Hadn't stopped some Atlas mining company, probably funded by the SDC although nothing was ever proven, from sneaking and nabbing a few. Dorothy and Glynda's warpath to reclaim those crystals and the resulting aftermath were pretty damned legendary.

"I doubt even Jimmy has forgotten that."

Glynda's smile faded. "Anything goes wrong. Anything goes bad…."

Ozpin sighed, "Glynda—"

Glynda turned. The very air seemed to quiver with rage and Ozpin's jaw shut with a click. Glynda fixed Oz with a glare so dark it made Qrow flinch. A look that somehow seemed to dim the stars. With clipped, angry words Glynda informed Oz, "You will not interrupt me again." Qrow swallowed, as unease descended between the three of them. He glanced at Oz, but his look was unreadable. Almost alien. After a moment of pained awkward silence, Glynda finished her original thought. "Anything at all Qrow. You find me. You tell me. Understood?" Qrow nodded, more than a bit intimidated by the dark gleam in her eyes.

There was another long silence. Finally Ozpin spoke, "May I speak now?" Glynda basically ignored Ozpin. Qrow thought she was, perhaps, taking being sidelined too personally. Way, way too personally.

Qrow sighed, "Yeah Oz. What's the plan?"

Oz sighed, and turned to address Qrow fully, all but excluding Glynda from the conversation. "As previously mentioned, Glynda is going to Vale. Tai, Peter, and Bart are already planning how to reclaim the school."

Qrow nodded. "Well, with that much firepower and no civilians in the way, should be simple enough. Well, so long as Glynda can somehow nullify that dragon thing, that is."

"I agree."

Qrow thought a moment, "Should we ask Bart or Tai to head this way if and when they clear the school?"

Oz shook his head. "As powerful as Tai is in the daylight, at night or even indoors, he is extremely limited. No, new Hunters need to be trained. Tai can be much more useful fulfilling that need." Qrow shrugged. It was true, it wasn't like his Semblance was the only one with some negative repercussions. "Bart too is… somewhat prone to excess when the mood strikes him. His Semblance and weapon are not for the faint of heart."

"Port wouldn't be the worst person bring in." Goodwitch said the words. Qrow, couldn't quite hide a wince. Goodwitch's eyes narrowed. "You have an objection?"

Qrow thought of Peter Port and sighed, "Not so much an objection. It's just that Peter Port can be… well Peter Port-ish."

Glynda's eyes narrowed, "Really. You two would turn down the help of arguably the greatest Huntsman in living memory?"

Qrow flashed her a somewhat embarrassed look, "Well, it's frankly unmanning."

Glynda's eyes narrowed.

Barely audible, Qrow still heard Ozpin mutter, "It really is."

/\

Jaune drowsed lazily in his bed. For the first time since he'd started sharing a room with Weiss, her snoring hadn't interrupted his sleep. Not even once. That, in and of itself, was a miracle and undoubtedly further proof of his exhaustion last night. He cracked one sleepy eye, managed to notice his roommate was already awake and gone, and promptly started to drowse again.

Not that a certain question didn't immediately loom in Jaune's hazy mind. Where were all the little Grimm that had served as his morning wake-up call for the better part of a month? Half in dreams, his mind briefly wondered why his roommate had finally decided to relent. He imagined Weiss dressed in black, like the picture of her pre-teen self, but it was raining and she was very, very still. Jaune felt a spike of near infinite loss—

His scroll began vibrating on the table. Jaune rubbed his eyes to mask his unease. Why on Remnant did he set an alarm?

The Palace… Damn it.

Already somewhat unsettled, and now justifiably irritated, Jaune slowly rose to a sitting position. Nothing like starting the day with a weird dream. Having some difficulty shrugging it off, Jaune managed to stand. Damn, his muscles were stiff this morning. He stretched, and there was a moment where he was pretty sure every vertebra in his back popped simultaneously. Jaune unevenly stumped his way to his closet, only to wind up staring at the sparse selections blankly. Eventually, he realized last night he had passed out without doing any laundry. Jaune groaned. Why did procrastination always have to come back and bite him at the worst moment possible?

With a sigh Jaune took stock of his limited choices. He had a decent enough pair of pants. The black T-Shirt he had worn on his date with Winter was admittedly snug, but he accepted it looked nice and he was pretty low on options. He scored one last clean pair of underwear… so that was good. Unfortunately, he struck out with socks. He couldn't even borrow any since Jaune far and away had the biggest shoe size of his friends. Even Yang was nowhere close, which meant barring doing laundry this morning, he would have to settle. A possibility came to mind. Luckily enough, in the corner of his rucksack were a small roll of random socks that had long lost their mates. No sock remotely resembled another, but he quickly settled for a charcoal mated with a white sock and hoped his boots and pants would keep them more or less hidden.

Mini crisis averted and now, grumbling a bit, he at least beat any of his housemates to the shower. Of course he forgot to check the water heater's fire Dust ration. This day was just off to a terrific start now wasn't it?

He thought of Winter, and before he knew it, he smiled and shrugged.

The day wasn't going to wait for him forever, and there was work that needed to get done. After all, things that were far from life threatening and would only lead to more time with an amazing new friend who, for some reason, was undeniably interested in him. Complaining about such good fortune was pretty damned ungrateful, wasn't it?

And with that attitude adjustment, Jaune's morning turned right around.

Firstly, the cold water did wonders in waking him up. Coming across more brisk than something arduous or unpleasant, Jaune was smiling when he hopped out. One warm, fluffy towel later, he was feeling better and better. By the time he shaved off yesterday's stubble, Jaune was in a pretty good mood. He smiled and thought of his dad. Lance Arc always had one monster of a beard, and given just how rapidly Jaune's own facial hair wanted to grow, Jaune thought part of the reason for that beard might have been his dad just throwing in the towel.

As soon as he got back tonight, he was going to write that letter home. It was time to be an adult.

Teeth brushed and stubble shaved, Jaune pulled on his clothes and looked in the mirror. He sighed a bit about the skintight shirt Yang would undoubtedly harangue him about, but decided he didn't look half bad for his morning meeting with Palace Security.

He was whistling as he went back to his room. He gathered his wallet, now complete with his Hunter's license, and Scroll, but had a sincere moment of hesitation. There was one last thing to complete the image. Honestly there was a big question on whether or not it was appropriate, but Jaune slowly picked up Winter's sabre, turning it over in his hands.

It didn't quite feel right.

This wasn't simply because the sabre wasn't Crocea Mors. Holding Winter's weapon without her explicit permission felt like a small violation of her person, like walking into a friend's apartment when they weren't home. Nevertheless, Jaune slowly shrugged away the disquiet, and buckled the weapon to his side. He justified the sabre's inclusion by telling himself that he needed to look the part for his meeting with Mistral Security.

He wondered if Weiss was going to be mad at him... a shiver ran down Jaune's spine and he frowned. Trying to remember that hazy and only half-remembered dream, Jaune pulled out his Scroll. In a few seconds he had already pulled up Weiss's contact information. His finger hovered over the call button, but he held off for a moment, resolving to ask anyone awake if they knew where she was before he jumped the gun.

It took him only fifteen seconds for him to be glad he held back.

Half-way down the stairs he spotted an admittedly disheveled Weiss speaking with Ruby. One mystery solved. Jaune smiled at them to mask his relief as it seemed Weiss was only in need of a hot shower and a good nap. He did warn her, "Before you hop in the shower, the water heater is out of fire Dust."

Weiss glanced up at him, smiled in thanks for the warning, but promptly went back to speaking to Ruby. Only this time Weiss was speaking at an even lower volume. Understanding this was a private conversation, Jaune bypassed them without further comment, deliberately tuning out any stray words that reached his ears.

He went into the kitchen where he noticed a somewhat skittish Blake. Hard not to with how she jerked straight as soon as he opened the door. Both of them tense, they offered each other a tepid smile with Jaune rapidly deciding breakfast could be limited to a glass of orange juice this morning. It didn't exactly go with freshly brushed teeth, but he figured Blake and Team RWBY needed the kitchen more and had some firm guesses as to why. Guesses that were confirmed the moment he left the front door of the house.

The moment he saw Yang.

RWBY's Blonde Bruiser seemed to be attempting to simultaneously psyche herself up and tamp herself down. She also looked like she was failing spectacularly in both directions.

They caught each other's eye. Both felt awkward. Jaune briefly thought of all Yang had done for him over the last couple of weeks. Starting, typically enough by Yang standards, with her beating him up right after he asked Winter on that first date. Not that she didn't mean it kindly. Yang meant almost everything kindly. Jaune was only now coming to a point of understanding on how much his private misery blinded him to the worries and concerns of those around him. Like how Yang was in the midst of her own pain.

Maybe it wasn't the same. A selfish part of Jaune still wanted to validate his pain over that of all others. Still, there was no denying he had let the horror of Pyrrha's death blind him to all the people trying to help. People like Yang. People who were in pain too. People who were still in pain. People who still reached for others even in the midst of their own suffering. Truly awesome people. Like Yang.

It was time to reach out. To be a friend. To give back. To be as awesome as those he had been blessed enough to walk beside.

Okay that last bit was melodramatic, but Jaune still meant it. He then had an absurd impulse seize him. Or perhaps he seized it? Did it matter? Either way, Yang totally deserved what was coming! Yang liked to taunt and tease. Well two can play at that right?

Jaune coughed loudly. Making sure he had his friend's undivided attention, he slowly lifted his arms. He then, with a discernable lack of caring just how silly this looked, locked his fingers behind his head and flexed his abdominals. The pose revealed most of his midriff in the process. Okay, he obviously wasn't Sun, but it all worked out well enough given her gaping expression. Now, Jaune had seen a few bodybuilder exhibitions over the years. Granted this was usually late at night while surfing on his Scroll, but he had seen them. He might not remember the poses exactly… but for this particular audience, Jaune had a solid enough grasp on what needed to be done.

Yang's expression was priceless.

Yeah, he knew he looked ridiculous. Jaune also knew he didn't really have the build for this. Who cares? It wasn't about looking ridiculous, it was about helping a person. No, helping a friend. A friend whose mortified gaze Jaune ate right up. Okay, maybe it was about looking ridiculous.

The routine probably didn't last even a full minute, and in that time Jaune used all but one pose he knew about three times. All but one. Jaune finished by flexing his biceps, curling his arms and bulging his shirt to the tearing point. He slowly lifted one arm, winked at Yang, and kissed his bicep ever so gently, and in doing so, claimed total victory!

Yang Xiao Long was then utterly undone.

She collapsed to the ground and started howling with laughter. Jaune smiled and offered a wink he was pretty sure she didn't see. Not with those tears rolling down her cheeks as she lay in a totally helpless state on the ground. Jaune walked away, wondering briefly if he had just discovered a way to defeat his nemesis in the sparring ring, but Yang, if anything, was resilient.

Right as he turned the corner, he heard Yang let loose one of her patented wolf whistles followed by her shouting, "Lookin' good Vomit Boy!"

Jaune chuckled to himself, glad his brief bout of silliness had helped his friend a bit. He glanced at his Scroll. Jaune had a little more than an hour, more than enough time, before he needed to be at his appointment with Mistral Security. He was pretty sure his license would be identification enough, but was admittedly concerned with what he and Nora had accidentally done to the Imperial Palace. He was starting to run through mental scenarios on how he could hope to explain what had happened with him, Nora, and the boulder, when something unforgivable happened.

Goodwitch. Jaune hadn't told Goodwitch about Nora staying home. Jaune had given Nora his word. He dialed. Thankfully it went through.

"Hello? Mr. Arc? This isn't a good time—"

Daring all, Jaune interrupted her. "Sorry to bother you professor. I was just calling about the thing with the Imperial Palace—"

This time his professor interrupted him, "Yes, yes your meeting to appropriately apologize to palace personnel. I am sorry Mr. Arc but more important matters have arisen and I am unavailable—"

Hardly believing he would dare interrupt her twice, and in only a handful of seconds, Jaune nonetheless did so. "That's okay. I have a meeting with Mistral Security anyways, you needn't…" Jaune trailed off at his teacher's expression.

Jaune could somehow actually feel Glynda Goodwitch tenseness over the call. Not hear it. Not see it. Feel it. "Why is that Mr. Arc?"

Jaune became justifiably cautious, "Winter Schnee invited me to an event at the Palace. There is some kind of security screening I need to go through to go."

Glynda Goodwitch focused in with laser-like precision. "You're not carrying Crocea Mors to the Palace, are you?"

Jaune frowned and dodged the question. "No, Winter still has it."

Goodwitch seemed to rapidly relax, "Very well Mr. Arc. Sorry, I have been somewhat distracted and had indeed forgotten you loaned the weapon to her." Jaune nodded even though he knew he was missing something important.

"Ms. Goodwitch, can you tell me what's going on? Why is where I take Crocea Mors so important?"

Glynda Goodwitch hesitated, then smiled and gently shook her head. Not in negation, more like she was clearing her mind. "The name General Alabastos Arc, even after seventy years, is still very loaded in Mistral. You bringing Crocea Mors into the home of the ruler that ultimately ordered his execution would be seen as a colossally pointed gesture in today's political climate."

Jaune swallowed. "Even though the Imperial Family has been gone for, like, forever?"

Goodwitch nodded. "Even so, yes." Her face relaxed a bit. "Mr. Arc, some ramifications, for good or for ill, echo. Long after all who had any personal stake in the event itself are but dust, people will still cling to moments and decisions as though they happened but yesterday. Sometimes as a beacon of hope and light, but all too often, as a source of moral outrage."

Jaune wondered at Goodwitch's dismissive tone at the end, even bristling a bit, but let it pass. Either way, she was probably right that taking Crocea Mors into the Imperial Palace would be all kinds of loaded. That, Jaune believed, was the most important point, even if he still felt the need to argue. Mentally, he resolved to ask Winter for advice as soon as he could.

"I promised you I wouldn't be careless. Thank you for telling me I was still being so."

Goodwitch paused. Then she smiled, "Thank you Mr. Arc. I expect nothing less from what is easily my most improved student."

Jaune smiled and accepted the compliment. He then got down to business and covered for his friend. "Okay, I'm going to tell Nora that I'll take care of everything then."

Professor Goodwitch's expression became knowing, "I think you may as well not wake her up. Sorry Mr. Arc, but I've distinctly seen more than a few landmarks in your scroll's background. Given Miss Valkyrie's inability to hold off on interjecting herself into a conversation…" the professor's voice trailed off.

Jaune knew when he was caught, but still put some iron into his voice. "I'll still handle it."

Ms. Goodwitch paused, nodded but once, and offered only, "I believe you will," before winking out. Jaune paused himself to take a breath and straighten to his full height. He then slowly let that breath escape him. It was time to game plan. Shaking his head to clear it, he pulled up his contacts, prepared to dial Winter Schnee as he stepped around a corner…

And straight into trouble.

/\

"Give us a few minutes." Weiss nodded once and left. Ruby was slower. Yang smiled at her sister, a smile she meant while still being unyielding. "Sorry sis. This meeting's between us. Partners only."

Ruby looked at her carefully before nodding slowly. Rubes then deliberately walked past Blake to give the Faunus's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Yang wished that part of her didn't find that annoying, but wish in one hand, et cetera, et cetera. When Ruby finally left, Yang breathed in deep and walked over to sit across from where Blake was staring blankly at the tabletop between them.

There was a solid minute of silence between them, but Blake finally dragged her gaze from the gleaming wooden surface, took a steadying breath, and was promptly interrupted by Yang.

"First off Blake. I want to apologize to you." Blake blinked, but Yang was insistent and sincere in her words. "I've been dealing with a lot of personal stuff, stuff you had no hand in causing, and I've taken my fear and anger out on you. That's a bitch move. Whatever happened between us doesn't give me the right to pull that kind of dishonest crap. So, Blake? I'm sorry. Truly sorry."

Blake briefly closed her eyes, tried a tentative smile, but was again interrupted by her partner, "Second I need to thank you. Blake, thank you for saving my life back at Beacon. Blake, thank you for making sure I got home safe. The fact I still haven't once, even once, shown the tiniest bit of gratitude for you saving my life is worse than a bitch move. It's a C-Word's move. So, thank you, Blake. Thank you for making sure I got to see my family and friends again."

Blake smiled a fairly broad smile, at least by Blake's standards, before she was again interrupted by Yang. "All that being said, I'm still royally pissed off at you." Blake flinched back, but Yang was not prepared to be merciful yet. With brutal direct honesty, Yang let her frustrations be known. "Blake, I'm pissed about your dishonesty. I'm pissed about you standing apart and offering nothing in the way of support. I'm pissed about how you so casually and easily judge us. And, most of all, you can bet your ass I'm pissed about you running off and leaving every one of your friends high and dry without a single damned word. So pissed, that no matter what you say or do right now, I'm not going to be able to forgive you."

And like that, Blake folded in on herself and resumed staring at the table. Yang slowly nodded. The darkest part of Yang wanted to leave it there. Yang had finally said how she honestly saw the situation, and in doing so, the hardest and most broken pieces of her heart wanted to walk out and leave it up to Blake to become worthy of her friendship again.

Of course those hard and broken pieces were a ridiculously small percentage of Yang Xiao Long's heart. Yang reached across the table to clasp both her hands around one of Blake's.

Blake looked up and Yang smiled.

"Yet."

Slowly Yang's smile changed into one of her best ever smirky smirks. One of the truly irritating classics Yang took so much pride in. She smirked with all the love she had been blessed with throughout a life that, for all of its tragedy, was far more wonderful than terrible.

Blake blinked again and Yang chuckled at her expression. Yang used her thumb to stroke Blake's hand, but did not sugar coat a damned thing. "Make no mistake, I'm not exaggerating. I'm plenty pissed off. But I am done being a bitch and punishing you over old stuff." Yang again stroked her partner's hand with her thumb while leveling a gaze that held zero mercy. "From here on, we're partners. That means halfway. I ain't gonna do all the work anymore, trust me on that, but that doesn't mean I won't hold up my end. Understand?"

Blake looked at her. Yang relaxed her hardened expression into a softer smile. Finally Blake nodded. Yang's smile went away in an instant. A nod was nowhere near good enough.

To her credit, Blake got the hint. With a voice soft, but firm, Blake responded, "I understand."

Yang nodded, and relaxed her shoulders, but she did not offer her partner another smile. "Good. Meeting's adjourned then." Then to more the universe at large than her partner Yang announced, "Damn, I need a shower and a nap."

To Yang's surprise, when she started to rise, Blake didn't let go of her hand. Softly, but clearly Blake said, "I'm sorry Yang. So very sorry."

Yang didn't wrest her hand away, instead she sat back down across from her partner and nodded. Yang wasn't ready to forgive Blake yet, that wasn't a lie, but Yang wanted no part in punishing someone who wanted to be her friend.

So Yang offered what acknowledgement she could to a person she believed would one day become a true friend.

"I know Blake. I know."

\/

Dee was only half listening to Dudley. Dudley was bragging about just how fine some girl, one Dee guessed was largely fictional, was all over him at the club last night. It was almost a morning routine at this point. That didn't mean Dee didn't pick out a few important details. Details that would make certain things, like going up a full cup size, important but easy. He had in fact seen the perfect girl to model his own responding encounter off of.

Dee told his own story. A story that if pressed, he might admit wasn't wholly accurate. Of course the only reason for those inaccuracies is that Dee just hadn't quite had time to follow up on Blondie's come hither look.

Dee was just getting to the good part when Dudley crossed his arms, "I'm calling bullshit."

Calling bullshit this early in the morning was bullshit in-and-of itself. So Dee felt entitled to get a little pissed, "Dude, I'm telling you!"

"Yeah, while I don't doubt you're trolling the freak ward for one-armed tail, there ain't no girl on Remnant like that one." Dudley said derisively as he rolled his eyes.

Dee rushed forward so he could turn around and address Dudley fully to his face. "Brothers as my witness! Not only that, she had an absurd amount of blonde hair with tits—"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Dee was getting angrier and angrier at Dudley's unbelieving face when he seemed to collide with something. Something with almost zero yield. Whatever he hit, Dee basically bounced off of it. Stumbling forward, Dee had his foot unexpectedly slip off the curb, had his feet cross as he tried to turn, and wound up landing hard on his ass in the gutter. The damp gutter. Dudley took one look at him, and immediately exploded into laughter.

Dee, red faced, glared at whatever the hell he had collided with. That something was some big kid decked out in a t-shirt that made sure every muscle was on full display. What was worse, bastard had a Hunter's weapon on his hip.

Some shithead from Haven. Dee felt the red film descend.

"Hey asshole! What the actual hell?"

The kid blinked at him and smiled some false dopey smile. "Sorry my brain was a million miles away." He offered a huge hand. Dee glared at it a moment before slapping it away. Unlike an Academy Brat, Dee had long learned how to stand on his own.

There was a long silence. Subconsciously, Dee squeezed one fist until a knuckle popped. Dee assessed his chances.

Kid had an inch or two of height on him, and probably twenty plus pounds in mass. A few weeks ago, Dee would have just slunk off grumbling threats he knew he really couldn't follow through on. Things had changed since then though. Both he and Dudley had finally passed their exams a month ago and had even found their first job escorting trains to Argus. Dee wasn't just some rich twit who probably slept through the entirety of their very school getting invaded.

Dee was a damned Hunter of Grimm!

The Kid did take a couple of additional steps back when Dee smacked his hand away, but otherwise didn't react all that much. He did look more than a little wary though. Dudley was looking at the kid too. He stroked his goatee and half-smirked at Dee. Obviously Dudley agreed with Dee on the subject of Academy Brats. Dee half-smirked and nodded to partner.

Dee growled and forced his advantage. "What kind of half-assed apology is that?" The kid's eyes showed a distinct lack of confidence. Dee felt his faith in himself swell. "Do you even realize who you're talking to, brat?"

The Brat put his hands up, "I'm not looking for trouble. I was simply distracted and somewhat in a hurry. I just got off the phone with my Professor—"

Dudley flanked the kid, "That doesn't sound like an apology, does it Dee?"

Dee smiled a hard smile, "It sure as hell doesn't."

The Academy brat put his back against the wall but obviously couldn't help being flanked on either side. The kid's nervous expression was priceless. "I'm sorry. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going."

Dee nodded, "Yeah you should." This time with intent, Dee cracked his knuckles.

Dudley half-stepped between Dee and the kid like he was trying to play mediator and intervene. "Hey Dee, the kid is obviously sorry. Right, kid?"

Kid seemed to stiffen, "My name is Jaune, but yeah, I'm sorry. I never meant to knock your friend down."

Dee felt his eyes narrow and noted Dudley's do the same. Like Dee, Dudley probably didn't like the Academy brat's tone or how he phrased his words. Dudley still managed to give his tone a somewhat reasonable edge though when he told the Brat, "Well then, I think a nice formal apology will make sure there are no more hard feelings and then everyone can go their merry way."

The Academy Brat paused. He didn't argue. He must have known he was outclassed. Putting on a brave face, The Kid offered his hand as he addressed Dee fully, "I apologize for bumping into you. It was rude and I was careless, and I am sorry."

Dudley looked at Dee and asked, "How was that?"

Dee pretended to consider. "That should work," he waited until the kid relaxed a bit, "if he does it from his knees."

Dudley smiled an ugly smile. "You heard him kid."

Kid's eyes narrowed. "Really, you two have nothing better to do?"

Dee smiled, "Nope." Dee thought of the Blonde Bombshell with her 'come-hither' eyes. "Right now you getting down and apologizing sounds just about as divine as what any blonde could hope to accomplish from their knees."

Now the kid rolled his eyes, and Dee felt his anger rise when the Brat muttered, "Classy."

Dee squared up. He was in charge here. He leveled a pointed finger and demanded, "Knees. Now."

Kid gave him no warning. He grabbed hold of Dee's wrist and yanked the surprised Hunter full off his feet, slamming him hard enough against the wall for stars to explode in Dee's vision as he stumbled back. A fist he never saw clipped him in the cheek, but thankfully it wasn't quite flush. Dee wobbled back even further but used a surge of Aura to help shake the cobwebs out. Okay then, if that was how the Brat was going to be!

Dee looked and was immediately surprised. He had expected Dudley to already be wailing on the Brat. Especially given that there must have been a huge opening for Dudley when the Brat unloaded on Dee. However, Dudley wasn't wailing on the Brat. In fact, the kid had somehow already tied Dudley up, and, even now, seemed to be pushing Dee's partner's face not so much into the wall, but through it.

The kid was growling, "Just stop now. It was an accident. Let's all just walk away."

Dudley's growl of defiance became a shout of pain as this kid's hold tightened and Dee got to see just how much pressure was being placed on his friend's shoulder. Dee shouted his challenge and charged.

Brat saw him coming. He smashed Dudley's head against the wall hard enough to cause his legs to buckle. Dee circled and unloaded an overhand right the Brat still somehow batted away with his left. The Brat then countered with a straight right that snapped Dee's head straight back. Aura or no Aura, Dee's head was sent swimming yet again. Kid hit like a truck.

Dudley got back in the game by wrapping the Academy Brat around the waist, trying to wrestle him off his feet. Kid swayed, but was never in jeopardy of going down. Whether through some kooky Semblance or if the kid was simply a monster of muscle, Dudley looked like he would have more success wrestling an oak tree to the ground. Still, the kid had to lower his hands in order to counter Dudley's grip, and Dee had no intention to let the golden opportunity slip pass. Circling rapidly to the Kid's right, Dee unloaded a left hook the Brat had no hope of stopping.

The blow landed flush on the Brat's jaw with explosive force.

"MOTHERFUCKER THAT HURTS!" Dee's hand felt like he'd tried cracking a boulder with it. He looked down on it in horror, he had actually somehow broken a knuckle on the guy's face!

Kid glanced at Dee, there was a moment of concentration on his face. Dudley somehow lost his grip, and with a shrug the Brat was free. Dudley tried to come back in, but instantly took a knee to the ribs that was followed by elbow to the jaw and heavy punch to the chest. Dudley stepped back, stumbling and gasping. Space created, the Brat then hit Dudley with an uppercut that was absolutely devastating. A vicious right cross followed. Dudley's aura shattered, blood splattered the wall and Dudley spun on his heels before crashing against the wall, obviously unconscious. It got worse. The Kid snatched Dudley before he fell completely. Face red with anger, the kid raised a right hand that was now glowing. Kid took a not unsubtle look at his glowing fist…

Kid was channeling for an Aura strike!

Dee did the only thing he could. Not knowing how things ended up here, he freed his Macil, activated the spikes, and ran forward to put an end to this right now. All the while pretending he feared the dark look in the Brat's eyes not-at-all.

Jaune was in a state of shock. He had barely done anything to the guy, and his aura was already down. He looked at his glowing right hand.

If I followed up that cross, I would have killed him.

It was a sobering realization. One that made Jaune's stomach drop and had his hands shaking. At least he caught the guy before he broke his face on the sidewalk. Jaune saw the man's badly shattered nose and winced. Further broke his face. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the other one charging. He looked the man in the eye as he brought down his spiked club. Jaune let him. Things have gone way too far already and JNPR's leader was determined to end this right now. Aura flared, but this wasn't Nora. This wasn't Yang. This wasn't even Ren when he landed a clean kick that sent Jaune flying straight off his feet. This was something else, and Jaune was done with it.

The blow moved Jaune a bare few inches, driving his head to the side, but in all honesty, Jaune hardly felt it. The man looked at Jaune utterly dumbfounded, and he stood there gaping. About what Jaune figured in all honestly. Jaune snatched the weapon before the guy decided he needed another swing and more people wound up getting hurt.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" Jaune froze. Slowly he turned to see a pair of Mistral Security officers running at them.

"DROP THAT WEAPON!" Jaune looked down, and understood how it looked in an instant. Jaune dropped the spikey club where it clattered noisily on the ground. The officer's eyes followed the club, and when they broke contact, Jaune ever so slightly adjusted his grip on the unconscious guy his left hand was still holding onto.

The officer, thin red-faced, and older, had the distinct wheeze of a long time smoker. "Alright son, now gently set the guy on the ground and back away."

Jaune was extremely slow to comply, and made absolutely sure neither officer could see his left hand. "I'm sorry officer. This is just a scuffle that got a little out of hand."

The other security officer, a younger and plumper one, pulled out an Aura Stick. It honestly was just about the most effective weapon any normal police officer could hope to use on a Hunter. The gravity dust in the prongs helped it briefly pierce Aura so it could deliver a massive payload of electrical dust in the hopes of rendering a rogue Hunter immobile. Helped being the operative word, any Hunter seeing it deployed would flex Aura or bat it aside and get little more than a nasty shock. Probably pissing them off to boot.

Jaune started to understand just how explosive the situation was when looking through the lens of someone without Aura to protect them.

The first officer, the older one who looked like he really should be past the age of doing foot patrols, loosened his own Aura Stick, but didn't point it at Jaune. He was trying to hide it, but he looked scared. Jaune was a protector of these people, they should never be afraid of him, but in spite of that Jaune still needed to hold his unconscious assailant just a bit longer. He needed another twenty seconds or so, just to be sure.

The officer licked his lips, but didn't back down. Jaune respected him for that. The officer's voice was hard, but remained reasonable. "I saw your hands. You were going to hit that man with an aura strike." Jaune sighed and seemed to consider. To consider for another full twenty seconds.

That should be enough.

Satisfied, Jaune slowly laid the man who attacked him on the ground and stepped back. He raised his hands high enough to make tazing him seem possible and that act of surrender deflated much of the tension out of the air. Jaune answered the officer more or less honestly. "I was mad, but I wasn't going to follow through. Not when I saw he was out."

The officer relaxed, and for his own part, took his hand off his weapon. His partner did not though. Still, now that Jaune had made himself vulnerable, the Security Officer took control of the situation. "So you say, but what I saw was a defenseless person with no aura left. A person you were so angry at you were damned slow to let him go."

Now Jaune kind of did stretch the truth. "Like I said, I was mad, I wasn't even sure he was out until he went limp in my hands." The cop looked at the blood on the unconscious man's face and gave Jaune a disbelieving look. Jaune swallowed, but that didn't stop him from going for broke. "Anyways, I am pretty sure he has Aura left. I definitely didn't see it break."

"Sure, whatever you say." The officer pulled what looked like and old school aura reader from his belt. "Yeah, I'm sure there was no way…" The officer trailed off and was soon frowning a very confused type of frown. He then repeatedly hit the Aura reader with his palm as if that would somehow change the reading. He even fully reset it once. The officer glanced at his partner, "Mayhew, what's your reader have on sleeping beauty over here?"

Jaune looked at the younger of the two. The guy was much heavier, not obese, but definitely gone soft in the middle. He also smelled like he forgot to put on deodorant this morning. Officer Mayhew pointed his reader, "Uh. Eighty three percent, Sarge." Jaune swallowed. Did a rough calculation in his mind. Nora and Ruby both were Aura monsters compared to this guy.

Sarge glared at Jaune. Jaune continued tap dancing around the truth, "I saw he was out. Sometimes lucky shots can slip past Aura."

Sarge obviously didn't fully believe him. He pointed a reader at Jaune. His disbelieving expression became an out and out glare. He pointed at the guy Jaune had first bumped into. The one who started the whole fiasco in the first place.

"You pull your swing when you saw him standing down?"

Dumbfounded, the guy just kind of nodded. In a tone that was completely flat, the instigator just kind of mumbled, "I think so."

Sarge sighed, and just like that ninety-nine percent of the tension drained out of the scene. This did not mean Mistral Security was amused.

Irritated, the officer told them, "Okay let me remove your doubt. Given blondie and sleeping beauty are both well over eighty percent I am reasonably confident that you did." He looked at Jaune, "What was that flash of light though?"

Jaune knew what it was, or at least had guesses. Back at Beacon he had discovered his aura was dense enough to be visible under the right circumstances. Like when he flexed it against a je— a person swinging their weapon in a desperate attempt to save their partner. Jaune couldn't help but think about what might have been if he had been in that tower with Pyrrha.

In the end Jaune only offered, "Dust in the guy's weapon?"

Sarge glared at Jaune as something obviously occurred to him, "What's your Semblance?"

Jaune replied honestly, "Amping."

Sarge looked confused, "Never heard of it. You attend Haven?"

Jaune shook his head, "No. I have a full license."

Sarge looked a bit surprised. His voice hardened. "That changes things. Hand it over. Now." Jaune pulled his identification from his wallet. Sarge took some time looking it over. Bemused, he obviously needed to ask, "Really? You've had this thing for less than two days, and you're already picking fights?"

Jaune remembered Glynda Goodwitch stating what she expected of him. Jaune thought of Pyrrha Nikos. He thought of Ren and Nora, and while doing so, Jaune was ashamed. Jaune Arc had come very close to killing a man over something incredibly stupid. Something that would have not only ended someone's life, but would have put a torch to the efforts of so many amazing people that had put their trust in him. The people who helped give him his dream.

Jaune bowed his head. "I'm sorry. This won't happen again. You have my word." He would have added that an Arc never going back on his word, but somehow remembered Goodwitch's warning at the last moment.

Sarge looked at him and sighed. "Yeah I can tell you feel bad." He side-eyed Jaune as he read the name on the license, "You any relation to General Alabastos Arc?"

The guy that started the mess flinched, but Jaune was ready for this question and easily deflected. "If I am, my parents never really saw fit to talk about it."

Sarge paused, then shrugged and handed Jaune his license back. "How about you two jokers?"

Jaune saw the reluctance the guy handed over his license. "Hmm. Dee Tweed. Wow another newbie. Unlike blondie you already have a warning against your license. Only a month, and you've already had to stand in front of the review board?"

Dee tried to stall, "Listen—"

Sarge would have none of it. "No, you listen! Both of you! And when this conversation is over, you wake up your friend and explain it to him as well! Right now Mistral needs Hunters. I know this. You know this. I can accept that you three morons are young and want to prove just how tough you are, but at least have the courtesy to do it in the ring!" Sarge paused to catch his breath, "No, better yet! Do it by killing Grimm!" He glared at Jaune and Dee. "I honestly could have both your licenses suspended, and Brothers help me, I am sorely tempted." Jaune winced and hung his head, the Dee guy was much the same. Finally Sarge finished his thought, "However, just this once, I will let this go with a warning." Jaune looked the officer in the eyes, "I am doing this for two reasons. Because Mistral needs you and because both of you at least showed good sense at the end." Both Jaune and Dee let loose the breaths they had been holding. "However, if anything, and I mean anything, gets back to me concerning any of you clowns, so help me I'll sit in on your review myself. Understood?"

"Huh-wha?"

Sarge rolled his eyes. "And sleeping beauty finally awakens." He shoved Dee's license in the man's chest. "Explain it to him, because he's on the same short leash."

The guy lying on the sidewalk mumbled as he rubbed his eyes, "Did we get him?"

Sarge sighed, "Mayhew, shut him up before he says something incriminating." Mayhew shrugged, and absently covered the guy's mouth as he started speaking. "You are under inquiry. You have the right to withhold from speaking. Anything said can be used against you in a legal proceeding. You have the right to a solicitor. If you cannot afford a solicitor, you can entreat the court to appoint one for your defense. Do you understand your rights as I have listed them to you?"

And like all wise citizens under inquiry, the guy immediately clamped his mouth shut of his own accord.

\/

Winter sat across from General Ironwood. There was an inward indulgent sigh. He really had wandering eyes today.

She coughed pointedly to, once again, drag his gaze all the way up to meet hers. This was just silly at this point. He smiled somewhat abashedly, but that didn't mean he was able to hold her gaze for a protracted length of time.

Winter really should have checked out a sidearm from the armory.

"Sir, we really do need to decide the best approach with Chieftain Belladonna." Winter honestly should be feeling nothing but shame at this moment, but the way General Ironwood kept staring holes at where Crocea Mors was leaning was just too much of a distraction for her to feel the adequate amount of mollification.

"Did you know the day after Mantle surrendered, Ozymandias surrendered it to General Arc's only surviving child?"

Winter really wanted to roll her eyes, but didn't. "Of course, sir. Now with Chieftain Belladonna—"

"Job done. No fanfare. No joy. Just one final task completed."

Winter, growing frustrated, "I wish I could relate, sir."

General Ironwood's eyes were far away. He smiled and then said something rather odd. "I wonder if I shall ever understand such accomplishment. Such completeness of purpose."

Winter froze, having never quite thought of it that way. To her, Crocea Mors was a shaper of the world that came next, not the ender of what came first. Still, her analytical mind informed her that the General's comment warranted a response, "I am sure that legacy would have proven comforting to the Warrior King even though his was a life cut tragically short."

General Ironwood blinked. The faraway look in his eyes melded into something more disconcerting. Winter had trouble placing it. There was a long moment of fairly awkward silence. One the General ultimately broke.

"I'm sure you're right, Specialist." There was another pause, although time the pause was much shorter. The General's face though did not grown more comforting. "Specialist, I haven't formalized my speech completely, but I have decided to begin with a full admission of our violation of Menagerie's laws and airspace." Winter actually felt herself blink. Ironwood forged right on ahead though, "I do, however, believe broaching the subject of our people's safe return should be done less publically."

Winter sucked in a breath. The reason for Gareth Morgause not being in attendance became glaring. Winter dared respond, "Is this wise?"

Ironwood's eyes again wandered to Crocea Mors, but when he began speaking, he looked at Winter directly. "Politically? No, I believe it is, in fact, a grave mistake. One I believe will rapidly force my relinquishment of the overall command of Atlas's armed forces."

Winter swallowed. She mentally imagined the likely candidates for Ironwood's replacement, then did the math. The numbers were not kind. "Councilor Orkney will decide, won't he?" General Ironwood did not lie to her.

"Undoubtedly, and I think that is gravely unfortunate. That man only sees what is behind him, but despite his blindness, Councilor Morgause will back him. Caledon, if anything, is too hidebound to do anything but follow their lead."

Winter nodded, "And with only a single vote and a blow to reputation…"

Ironwood nodded, "Yes. Even should the election go completely my way and someone like Hill wins, there is little I can do."

Winter breathed deep and took her best shot at dissuading Ironwood. "He's going to choose Haig. That's his man. You know that, General."

Ironwood flinched, but again didn't lie. "That is my belief as well."

Winter took one more steading breath, "Haig was Lagune's right hand."

Ironwood's face changed. He was not amused. He took his own deep breath to calm himself, but when he spoke there was steel in his voice. "It would be wise of you to not lecture me about the battle of Fort Castle."

There was a long pause, and Winter almost dared to push further. The only reason she didn't was her overwhelming faith in the man in front of her. When Ironwood spoke, his tone brokered no argument. "For reasons you are undoubtedly able to deduce, my time holding two seats on High Council has come to an end." General Ironwood took a long pause to marshal his thoughts, "I have made too many mistakes in my dual role. Beacon and the embargo are only the worst of them. I might be able to hold control of the Atlas Military for a while longer, but certainly not past the elections. Not without worthy allies. Before that time comes, before I succumb to domestic pressure, I need to do something, anything, to regain international prestige and repair our Nation's tattered reputation."

Winter stated the obvious, "Then step down from the Acad—"

Ironwood's response was curt and immediate. "That is not an option."

Winter almost pressed, saw the General's face, and like that, all her will to fight the General evaporated. "There's a reason for that, isn't there, sir?"

Ironwood nodded once, and only once.

Frustrated, Winter asked, "How long can you give me once I arrive in Argus?"

The General considered, "Six weeks. That's firm. No longer."

Winter nodded herself. She hated hard deadlines like these. They made failure an all too real possibility, and Winter did not handle failure well. The Specialist assessed. She had no real idea what General Ironwood's end game was, and that scared her. What she did have was a direction to start digging. Winter though, as much as anything, believed in herself. This would just need to be enough. "Well then Sir, it's going to be an eventful six weeks isn't it?"

Ironwood smiled, and the confidence in that smile firmed Winter's already solid resolve. "Good then, Specialist, I think we can call this meeting formally adjourned then. I'll forward my notes to you as soon as I finalize my speech."

Winter paused. Belief in one's self didn't prevent Winter from becoming irritated. It certainly didn't mean that the General was undeserving of a small amount of payback for the mystery task he had presented her with.

"There is one more thing, sir."

Ironwood's face became somewhat confused at her expression. "There is?"

Winter's smile hinted at her fangs, "Yes, sir." She handed him a paper. "I believe these figures you submitted are quite..." Winter trailed off meaningfully, "Optimistic." Ironwood took the proffered piece of paper and frowned hard. "At least from the accounts and recommendations of your tailor back in Atlas."

Ironwood, ever so slowly, had red creep up his neck as he looked at the measurements for the dress uniform he had just ordered.

Winter was not merciful, "I believe this is confirmation that the cheese is winning, sir."

\/

Dudley waited until security was around the corner and way out of ear shot.

The Arc guy was examining himself in the reflection of the window, all but ignoring both Dee and Dudley. Completely unconcerned. Why would he be concerned? Lucky shot or not, he had utterly flattened Dudley inside fifteen seconds, and as much as Dee might not like to admit it, Dudley was easily the better of the two.

At least Mistral Security had let them off with nothing but a warning.

Dudley was ready to leave and forget the last half hour had ever happened when Dee surprised him by speaking. "Okay, just what the hell happened?"

The Arc guy looked at Dee and shrugged. "I guess you're referring to their Aura readers?"

Dee nodded, "That wasn't just some lucky shot," Dee paused for breath, "and I hit you full."

The guy looked at him, then shrugged. "Maybe. Listen I don't want to argue, and I certainly don't want to fight with you. I'm already late for a meeting. So, if you want an explanation, could we at least walk and talk?"

Dudley wasn't very interested, but Dee seemed unwilling to let it go. The two started walking off towards the city heights. After a moment, Dudley decided to follow them. Might as well see whatever mansion this Arc Guy lived in.

The Arc Guy started out, obviously, by bragging, "I have a lot of Aura. More than twice any of my friends, and trust me, Yang has a lot of Aura by normal comparisons." Dudley rolled his eyes. Yeah. Sure.

Dee though seemed to at least somewhat believe, "You're saying you have so much aura that my full on attack couldn't even take twenty percent off?"

The Arc guy shrugged, "Basically. Of course, I also used a bit of aura to brick your punch."

Dee looked at his hand, "Yeah, that's nasty trick." A bit of an awkward pause, "Thanks again for fixing my hand though."

The Arc guy shrugged, "You're welcome." That Dudley thought was actually a pretty cool Semblance. The Arc guy could amp someone's Aura into overdrive. Dudley himself had seen it work on Dee's broken hand. It had been the gesture that finally got Security to stop lecturing them and leave.

The Arc guy continued, "Anyways so yeah. Lots of Aura helped the officer convince himself you were holding back. I just kind of rolled with it. That's pretty much the whole story."

Dudley doubted, but whatever. Dee kept right on going though, "Okay, what about Dudley then?"

Dudley sighed, "What's to tell? Just a lucky shot and I went out."

Dee shook his head, "I saw your aura crack."

Dudley paused, then shrugged it off. "Hey, Security said I was over eighty percent. You saw wrong."

The Arc guy kind of winced. "Yeah sorry about that." He looked at Dudley kind of closely, "How's the nose?"

Dudley reached up to touch his face. Yeah there had been blood but… "What are you saying?"

The Arc Guy winced again, "Yeah I kind of broke it. I'm sorry." He examined Dudley, or more accurately, Dudley's nose for a few seconds before finishing with, "At least it looks like it healed straight." Dudley reached up to touch his face and wished he had a mirror. There was another pause and then finally the Arc guy answered the question. "I can also share Aura. I don't always like to, but I panicked when the Officers started barking orders."

There was a long pause in the conversation. There were a lot of questions both Dee and Duncan wanted answers to, but neither quite had the nerve. Ten minutes passed in which no one uttered a word. During which time this Arc guy's stride ate up distance at one hell of a clip. It was like the guy had spent half his life hiking. Even Dee, who could run miles, started breathing heavier. This Jaune Arc, cool, quiet, and a damned mystery felt no need to do anything about the lack of conversation either, more than content to push forward.

It was all just kind of vaguely irritating. Especially since Dudley was getting winded. Finally, panting heavily, he just had to ask, "Where are we headed?"

The Arc guy didn't even glance his way. "The Palace. I have to pass some kind of security screening."

Dee and Dudley looked at each other. Was this guy for real? Dee asked, "What, are you? Long lost royalty or something?"

This time the Arc Kid did look at Dee, kind of confused, then shrugged the question away. "Not that I've been made aware of. The screening is for a special event next weekend, and I need to be vetted."

Dudley relaxed and picked up what Dee was obviously missing, "Oh, you have a job interview for that Faunus thing then?" Dudley was more than a bit envious, but this Arc dude was probably legit enough to work that level of security. Especially since he had a famous name, even if it was only a coincidence.

The Arc Guy didn't respond for nearly a minute. Dudley was pretty sure he wasn't going to, especially since the gates to Palace compound were now clearly in sight. Then his face changed as something finally broke through his cool reserve. "Gods-damn it."

Dee looked at him confused. "What?"

The Arc guy didn't turn, and seemed to addressing Mistral as a whole instead of Dudley as an individual. "I didn't realize the damage was that bad. They are going to be so pissed off at me."

Now Dudley was confused, "Why?"

The Arc guy didn't seem to really hear him, but he did kind of respond. "A friend and I were doing a little training and we accidentally damaged the Palace."

Dudley looked at the building… No he didn't mean the thing on the news last week. He glanced at Jaune Arc, and sure enough, he was staring daggers at the huge hole in the East Wing's roof. With a sigh, Jaune Arc started striding forward with intent. Dee saw it too, and even reached forward. Dudley grabbed his friend's arm before it even got close to Arc, and shook his head emphatically.

Arc paid neither of them any mind. Soon enough he was talking to what looked like rather irritated guards. Before long, a full Watch Commander came forward to talk to him… then almost inexplicably the Commander shook Arc's hand. There was a familiar laugh, with Arc following along with his fake sheepish expression.

Dee started to inch forward, but Dudley's grip on his friend's arm remained absolute. Looking directly at Dee, Dudley asked his friend, "We don't need to know. Understand?"

Dee hesitated, then shook it off. With a bit of added haste, the two friends headed towards the train depot, wanting to put this whole sorry morning behind them.

It was more than an hour before Dee finally resumed his story about Miss One-Armed-Blonde-That-Obviously-Didn't-Exist.

/\

Tyrian Callows skipped his merry way through her Majesty's hallowed halls. It was a beautiful morning, and though he would prefer if the Goddess had time to dote on him, or he on her, it was not a matter worth being mournful about. It was a matter completely worth killing Cinder Fall an inch at a time over, obviously, but that time would undoubtedly come soon enough.

He giggled. With so many Grimm parts, when the Goddess took away her Blessed Gifts, there may only be an inch or so left of Cinder to kill anyways!

Tyrian quickly sobered though.

More work needed to be done by all. After the little brat's spectacular failure at Haven, the Goddess had come to him. Raising him from his despair over his own… incident, Tyrian was given the chance to redeem himself. If Tyrian was lucky, he might yet even happen across the little cruel child with the silver eyes. Salem seemed to think there was a chance, anyways.

Ah such pretty, pretty eyes.

So very pretty.

Eyes so pretty he planned to hand them to the Goddess that he might see just how pretty they truly were. He'd need a jar… No. No! NO! What was he thinking? He couldn't give the Goddess, His Goddess, something so simple… What to do? What to do!

Hopefully Watts knew a good way to display them. He was, after all, very clever. And he was going to see him even now! Her will truly worked in mysterious ways, did it not? Especially since Tyrian had finally remembered something very important.

With a giggle and a flourish for an audience that wasn't there, although she was always watching, Tyrian Callows knocked on the door of one Dr. Arthur Watts.

"Enter." Laughing softly, after all the world was truly worth laughing at, Tyrian opened the door into Watt's medical ward.

Oh happy day! He was working!

Tyrian looked at one of the meat sacks… and found only disappointment.

"This one is already dead." Tyrian's voice was sad, he had, after all, missed the fun. Watts could be SOOOOOO selfish sometimes!

Watts looked up from his table full of schematics. Beautiful, beautiful schematics of wonderful toys. Watts was forgiven instantly. The man worked hard for the Goddess, His Goddess, and deserved to be forgiven. Tyrian thumbed one of his blades until it pierced his aura and he briefly bled. He wondered if Salem would one day give him Watts. There would be such lovely irony in Tyrian strapping the man to the table before—

Watts irritated Tyrian by breaking into his thoughts, "Yes. I had forgotten. Would you mind having that Mercury fellow dispose of it for me?" Watts waved distractedly and resumed pouring over his latest, and undoubtedly greatest, project.

Tyrian frowned, he wasn't some errand boy… then he remembered his lovely new tail. So shiny and pretty. Tyrian smiled, "Of course! Just tell me what you were doing since you were being cruel and didn't allow me to watch!"

Watts yawned into the back of his hand, but didn't look back up. "Nothing much. That," Watt half-heartedly indicated the lifeless sack, "was little more than bait to keep the Grimm interested so I wouldn't have to bother Her Highness with trivialities."

Tyrian frowned, smiled, frowned, and then smiled again. He was disappointed that the experiment wasn't more entertaining, though pleased that he hadn't missed out on very much, upset that Watts still did not refer to the Goddess as such, and ultimately happy that Watts was considerate of His Goddess's time.

"Ooooooo. This is the older one, isn't it! The younger—"

"Is off limits according to Her Highness." Watts's voice was immediate and stern.

While orders from His Goddess were absolute, Tyrian was still livid. "Hazel!" he hissed.

Watts nodded wearily, then turned to grab the sphere behind him. "Undoubtedly." It took a second for Tyrian to realize, but what Watts' sphere contained a Geist. Granted a Geist devoid of most of the things that made it dangerous for people like the dead meat sack in front of him, but still a Geist.

Softly, now more curious about Watt's pet grim, Tyrian still finished his thought about Hazel. "That man is no fun whatsoever."

Watts shrugged, "He has his uses. After all, he found Cinder inside a week and tailed her unnoticed for days according to her Highness's account."

Tyrian stopped. Now he had absolutely no respect for Cinder Fall, but even she could not be so incompetent. "How?"

Watts shrugged, "Hazel stumbled across Torchwick's little helper, or, perhaps more likely, she stumbled across him." Yawning, yet again, Tyrian himself was immune to such things, Watts did something to the Sphere and immediately the Geist started screeching in pain. Somewhat distracted Watts, his accent changing subtly, finished his thought, "Evidently the two of them have come to some sort of arrangement." The Sphere sparked again. There was another scream, and slowly the Geist within turned to ash.

That was too bad. Geists really were loads of fun.

Still, Tyrian had to tease, "Another failure."

Watts snapped to. "Hardly. You've seen the prototype. Learning the limits is nothing short of prudent." Watts began waving his hands with deliberate affectation as he launched into a lecture about his shiny new toy's full capabilities. Tyrian didn't much listen. This wasn't jealousy! Even if Watts wasn't going to let him pilot it even once, Tyrian was dedicated and thus above such things!

Gradually, Tyrian refocused his attention as Watts finally began to wind down, even pausing to twist the end of his moustache at the very end of his little speech. Tyrian knew most of this was an act. Tyrian wasn't a psychologist, but he had known more than a few during his life. Tyrian wondered why Watts kept up the act. Especially when the man's native Mantle accent crept through every time he got tired. Especially since he had long ago professed his true name to the Goddess.

Tyrian then started giggling to himself. Then his chaotic mind stumbled back to that fool Torchwick's little helper! Excitedly, he started clapping his hands. "Such a pretty little toy. She will be so much fun to play with!"

Watts blinked. Then slowly let go of his act and turned back to his table of wonderful toys. He did respond after a moment though. "Do as you will, Salem said nothing on the matter, but I would argue against picking such a fight."

Tyrian pouted, "You doubt?" That hurt so very much!

Watts shook his head in denial as he yawned yet again. "Not like that, I meant only as a safeguard. Ms. Sustrai, after all, owes her allegiance to Cinder, not Salem." Tyrian nodded in understanding. Always looking out for the Goddess's best interests. Showing he had already forgiven Watts, Tyrian patted the man on his shoulder. Watts, for his part, tried to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. Poor man. Poor, poor man. Watts really did work too hard. Then and there, Tyrian decided when Salem gave Watts to him, he'd make it quick. No more than a few hours. Tops!

Oh wait, he'd become distracted and almost forgotten!

"The Goddess wanted me to thank you properly for your good work with my beautiful new tail!" Watts looked at Tyrian, obviously somewhat confused. Tyrian giggled at his confusion. Then he grew enraged! Not with Watts, but because of that Bad Bird and the cruel girl with the pretty eyes. They had made him despair, and in that despair, made Tyrian forget something very interesting!

Yes, yes. With them, it would be much longer than a few hours. Tyrian would make sure it lasted a week! Maybe two! Tyrian would take his time. Almost as much time as he planned to use when Salem finally gave him Cinder… where was he?

Oh right, the thing he had forgotten!

Tyrian looked at Watts who waited patiently. Such a good man. A good, good, good man! "Well I just wanted to apologize to you. I may," Tyrian added loads of emphasis to the word, "have forgotten something interesting…" Tyrian swallowed, "Because of the incident."

Watts smiled at Tyrian encouragingly, even patting him on his shoulder. When Watts did, Tyrian nearly cried. Such a good, good man. An hour! It would be done in an hour! Just one more way to show gratitude for a good man who worked so diligently! With a laugh that was part despair, part radiant joy, Tyrian finally told Watts the very interesting thing.

"I met a young man traveling with that cruel child with the pretty eyes!" Watts raised an inquiring eyebrow. Tyrian smiled triumphantly, "That young man was carrying Crocea Mors!" Watts's eyes went wide and the expression that spread across his face warmed Tyrian Callows's heart. "It seems your old colleague Eric had another son!" Though it was cruel, Tyrian couldn't quite resist adding one other fact. "A son with eyes just like Gwen's."

A man who was certainly not named Arthur Watts when he was born, sat down with a thud. Not in a chair, but straight to the ground. Tyrian smiled with glee. A moment of hesitation, but finally Watts asked, "Do you know where this… where Eric's son is right now?"

Tyrian shrugged teasingly, "I would guess somewhere near Mistral. Far, far away from Eric. Far, far away from the man who killed everything you so dearly loved."

Watts started breathing heavily. "Does her Highness think he might, perhaps, make his way to Atlas?

Tyrian laughed delightedly and nearly pranced around the room. Finally though he answered Watt's question. "Why else would the Goddess direct me here and now to tell you? She is very proud of how far you have come. So very proud! And so would not be so cruel as to deny you!"

Watts, for his part, stared at the ground for a good long while. Tyrian smiled like a cat while he did. Finally, after more than five minutes, Watts started to laugh. A laugh of rage. A laugh of pain. A laugh of regret.

A laugh of pure madness and blackest hate.

Tyrian would have liked to join in, but that just seemed rude.

You know if you want to be a hero, well you're going to face some villains. Right? Yes, I have my own plans for Neo, and while I toyed with it being a reveal, I kind of prefer this.

Regardless, thank you, all of you, for your time. This story has officially surpassed 100,000 views around the world and nearly 1% of you thought it was worth keeping updated with it!

Seriously, that a thousand people think it's worth sticking around reading my shenanigans almost makes up for Wolfe's suffering. Poor Sainted Soul that he is.

Special thanks to Paulternative who I pawned all the terrible grammar off on. Incidentally, if you misremember a prominent character's name throughout a twenty plus page chapter and only have it pointed out by your Beta reader, do you have any idea how long that takes to correct? Neither do I! Thanks Paulternative!

And seriously, thank you all for helping an aging dude decompress after work. Thank you very much.

As a final aside, Paulternative wanted me to add that a macil is in fact a type of mace. Basically a steel wrapped club with spikes.

Have a good, safe day.