Chapter 3: Vibe in the Lift with the Francette

"Life is like a dick; it's the women that make it hard."

— 9 —

Pyrrha Nikos found the letter more than a little quaint. Handed out to the team leaders after the combat class this afternoon, it was an invitation to meet with the headmaster about the upcoming missions of the semester. Unlike the interviews conducted over the past week in a one-on-one session to gauge how the teams were doing, this seemed to be slightly more group-oriented. Maybe some kind of briefing on the tasks that would be given out to students, for everyone to learn upcoming assignments. It could have just as easily been communicated as a text, as was the case with changes to the lesson plan or to cancel classes. She remembered waking up from that weird microwave burst incident with a text on her scroll about how classes were canceled for the day, not that she had been feeling well enough for them in any case.

She held the letter in her hand as she looked up at the CCTS Tower to the heart of school. Where the most important radio equipment of the kingdom was, and where the headmaster made his office for some reason. She wondered if that was just part of his style, much like the hard copy letter. Texts and electronic communication were far more common here in Vale than Argus, where a good third of the population didn't even have scrolls. She'd only bought one after her first bout of tournament prize money. They had been a bit of a luxury before that for her. And that made holding this hard copy letter feel somehow nostalgic in an old-fashioned way. Reminded her of the old country instead of her newly adopted home.

She looked over to the side and saw Jaune Arc standing there, taking a drag on a cigarette as he looked up at the tower. All she could do was frown and move on into the building. Maybe it was the strongly anti-tobacco influence of Atlas, but cigarettes weren't very common in northern Mistral. It wasn't something she minded. She had a generally pretty low opinion of anyone who smoked, purposely ruining their lungs and cardio just for a vague high that didn't even do anything for you. But Vale was a strange kingdom like that. She half thought everyone in the country smoked. It made going out to cafés in the city uncomfortable, like she couldn't breathe. People here just seemed comfortable poisoning their bodies with what were illegal or highly regulated substances back home. Pyrrha was pretty sure the only drug they actually banned in this country was cocaine and street cut tetrameth, itself a military grade cousin of the common amphetamines that for whatever reason were in a lot of the popular energy drinks here. To say nothing of the completely pointless nicotine.

On an abstract level, she could at least understand drinking; though she personally didn't enjoy the feeling, she knew plenty of people did. Like Jaune, for example. But drugs of all sorts were just suicide of a different nature, from the amphetamines in energy drinks to the anabolic steroids many of her competitors took in secret. Even if she knew plenty of students used them here in a perfectly legal context, she still couldn't help but think less of those who did.

The elevator door opened and she stepped inside, all alone. The headmaster's office wasn't quite the top floor, but it was close enough. A good minute or so of just standing there in place, watching the world go by through the windows. She imagined it would be a therapeutic ride, watching the world shrink beneath her. Once upon a time, it almost gave her vertigo. She still didn't entirely like riding airships for that reason. Mistral had been a country of trains and public transport, instead of airships and massive towers. The only high she liked being was high in the tournament rankings.

A hand grabbed the elevator doors right as they were closing. They jerked to a halt and opened up, letting Jaune into the little vertical coffin with her. Pyrrha gave him a weird expression as he stepped in and stood beside her. After seeing that they were going to the same floor, he exchanged a glance with her, which she returned in kind. It wasn't an even, unemotional look. If anything, he almost looked angry. On edge. Determined to do something with more force than was needed.

"Team leaders meet?" he asked.

Pyrrha nodded. "Yes. I didn't really expect you to be here."

He shot her an expression that was almost annoyed, before he sighed and let it go. Folding his arms, he just leaned against the wall. "Same."

The silence that followed as the elevator slowly made its way up made her feel anxious. She had been hoping to enjoy the ride on her own, but with him here, somehow that felt weird. Looking out the windows felt like she was trying too hard to avoid him for whatever reason. Probably because he would do something and stick her with the cleanup, like that time in the gym with the combat mechs. She still hadn't really forgiven him for that.

So Pyrrha found herself looking Jaune over as he leaned there, ignoring her. He was wearing some outfit of green, looking a bit like two sleeves that had just been tied together and that was all that was holding them to his chest. The only thing holding the halves of the jacket together was a little chain with this oddly gorgeous white feather serving as a broach over his heart. It was lined up beside that cross that Ruby had given him for some reason. She recalled Ruby saying something about working with the boy to build a kind of cape over in the Fishery. She had to wonder if this was it. Pyrrha had to admit, it did look good and just flashy enough to draw the eye without being untasteful. It did a lot to expose his chest and stomach, which was a point against him, even if he was wearing his armor.

She felt that part turned what would have been stylish into garish. She looked down at her own outfit, which was now little more than the school uniform. It was an outfit with a skirt that was just a little too short for her own comfort. She hadn't had time to change after class. The bare chest and abs of his were a little too much. Visible abs, the kind that cut deeply, were a male privilege she would never get to enjoy. She estimated Jaune to probably have a single digit body fat percentage, ten percent at most. A good deal less than last time she had interacted with him. Once upon a time, she had tried cutting extremely lean for a tournament, spending hours in the gym and barely eating anything to get into the kind of obsessive physical shape that really didn't make any sense.

What would be an athletic body percentage for a boy was almost dangerous for a girl. She had learned first hand that when a girl got just a little bit too lean, got close to having visible abs that popped, she became too skinny to menstruate. And while on the surface it was pretty cool not to be dragged down to that monthly low all girls had to deal with as a condition of the sex, it meant you were unhealthily thin. It wasn't sustainable; her family physician had recommended she stop it and actually eat food again. She could look good and be healthy, even have some abdominal muscles showing, without being over the line in ways that boys could get away with easily.

Pyrrha looked up and Oh god he's staring right at me and he knows where I was looking. She jerked her head to the side, cheeks flushed. She expected some kind of witty remark or something. This was the irresponsible boy who just did whatever and that Nora still wanted to kill for her own reasons. Yang too, most of the time, even if her sister Ruby seemed to really like the boy. There had been some incident involving the two girls' father that Pyrrha couldn't really figure out. She suspected she probably didn't want to know in any case.

Instead, all Jaune said was, "Weiss says she talked to you."

Pyrrha blinked. "I… yes, she did. Or maybe I talked to her. It was kind of a strange conversation. I wasn't really sure I was supposed to say anything. I think she was just venting and I happened to be there by mistake." She tried to smile.

The boy nodded. "Thanks."

"For?"

"Whatever it was, it seemed to help her," he said. "She mentioned it in the context of helping her figure things out. Not my bidness to pry, but I appreciate that if nothing else, you've got a level head on your shoulders. I can see why they made you team leader instead of my obvious pick, Ruby."

"Oh, I…" She found her lips contorting as she let out a little laugh. "That's a little offensive, but I'm going to ignore it."

"Ignoring me is part of my six-step guide to better living," he said, smiling back at her. "Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back."

"Mm. And what are the other five steps?"

Counting off his fingers, he said, "Don't do drugs unless they're the cool ones. Go to the gym everyday. And no matter what society tells you, jail isn't real."

"I think that's only four steps."

He gave an over-the-top shrug, a little theatrical. "Maybe. But I signed up to be a Huntsman because I couldn't do math. Miss me with them numbers shit."

Despite herself, Pyrrha laughed. "I'll be honest with you, this isn't how I pictured this conversation going. I'm a little off my game right now."

Jaune pretended to look sheepish. "I didn't read the script. Remind me what my lines were supposed to be?"

She grimaced. "Something about uncomfortably trying to hit on me before sticking me with your latest mess. I think that's where you should be."

"Maybe. But I should be a lot of things. I aim to disappoint."

"I think I like it better when you're a disappointment."

He rolled his eyes. "Ugh, thanks, Mom. Way to really rub it in."

Another laugh, but she was trying to frown. "Is that really how your mother talked to you?"

"Father, actually." He made a gesture like grabbing something and throwing it out the window. "But no, none of that talk. Finna take me a page from Ruby's book and choose to ignore the unfortunate implication of my self deprecation."

"Ooh, that rhymed!"

"I'm in the lift with the francette," he said. "My inner rapper is coming out. Lil d'Arc finna holla atcha straight outta Tampa."

"Wait, what did you call me?" Pyrrha asked, eyes narrowing slightly. It wasn't a term she knew, but knowing him as little as she did, it sounded like it would be some kind of irreverent insult.

Jaune put his hands into his pocket and looked up at the ceiling. "One of my many rap words to refer to a girl."

"So it's not demeaning?"

"No, of course not," he said, and gods forgive her but she actually believed him. "I save the demeaning pet names for my friends."

"I take it that means you have a very long list of nicknames to come up with?"

"I don't know. Probably not. There's only Blake, Weiss, Shamrock, Ruby. Cardin too, I guess." He paused. "Coco too, if you know her."

"Who doesn't?" Pyrrha shook her head. "But that's still a sad list. It's a bit small, isn't it?"

He gave her a flat look. "I've already mentally associated you with my mother, please don't start quoting my ex-girlfriend."

Pyrrha couldn't help herself. She actually snorted. Which prompted her to cover her face and turn her head, still laughing. "I'm sorry, Jaune, I shouldn't be laughing."

He waved his hand at her. "No, please, continue. Making an ass of myself in front of girls is one of my top three favorite things to do."

"And the other two?" she prompted, leaning her head in his direction.

Jaune gave her a scathing look. "What did I tell you about my inability to count! You have the memory of a goldfish."

"Goldfish can actually be trained and can remember things pretty well."

"What?"

Pyrrha clasped her arms behind her back. "It's a common misconception. They're actually pretty smart and can remember people's faces. I had the school project back at Sanctum where I taught them to swim through rings."

"Huh. That's pretty freaking weird. I guess it's true what they say about Sanctum."

Pyrrha gave him a serious look. "Yes, all of it is. Even the unsavory rumors. We are required to complete a year-long course in racketeering in order to graduate."

Jaune stared at her for a very long moment. She watched with naked fascination as he processed everything she said, trying to interpret it. His face made all kinds of funny movements. Before he finally cracked up into a laugh. He seemed to find it way funnier than it should have been.

"Holy shit, was that a joke, girl? I don't think I've ever heard you make a joke before."

She leaned forward slightly. "I know. No one ever sees it coming. It's like my secret ace in the hole."

"Like your Semblance."

"It gets them every time. And unlike a joke, I'm not telling that one." She winked.

He held up his hands. "Wasn't prying. Them's your secrets for me to ferret out through observation. My team's gotta beat your team one day, after all."

"I'd like to see you try. I'd prefer to see you fail, but details, details." Pyrrha shook her head. "My point is, I've met people who are worse with names than goldfish are."

It took him a moment to realize what she was getting at. "Oh, yeah, that. Your name."

"Feels like you've been avoiding it this entire conversation."

Jaune shook his head. "You're Pyrrha Nikos."

She gave him the barest hint of a smug smile. It was pure Nora energy. "You got it in one. I'm almost proud of you."

"How can I forget you? Your legs are as long as Professor Port's class."

"Aaand now we're back to uncomfortable flirting."

Jaune didn't seem bothered by that. He didn't apologize or recant or act flustered like most boys probably would. "Don't take it as a compliment. His classes are too long. Uncomfortably long. Like one of those movies whose run time exceeds how long you can hold in a piss, but you can't really leave because by the time you have to go, you're getting to the good part. Except his classes have no good part. That's you."

Pyrrha suppressed a scoff. "I don't think I've ever been described like that before. I guess I'll take that into consideration going forward?"

"Yeah, well, I have a knack for the language. Ain't nobody know the cow better than the butcher do. I—"

The elevator stopped and beeped. Headmaster's office. Pyrrha flashed Jaune one last smile before leaving, feeling like she had one of the best and yet worst conversations in recent memory.

— 10 —

Coco spun around in the headmaster's chair right as the last elevator reached the floor. Steepling her fingers, she looked out across the gathered team leaders to see Pyrrha and Coco's own adopted little brother Jaune walk in side-by-side. With their arrival, that meant every leader in the freshman class was here. Good.

To be honest, Coco only knew a handful of them. Which meant two, Pyrrha and Jaune. But in her defense, they made up the majority of her interest in lowerclassmen. Jaune because Jaune, and Pyrrha because her team was the hottest shit this entire year, and she'd be dumb not to get to know the brightest stars of the year in Team VYPR. She supposed that technically she knew a third one, Cardin, but he was someone she preferred not to know. He was only still alive because the people around her refused to let her kill him. It always sucked when the people around you kept moralizing about stuff like that. A couple of the other kids here she was paying attention to in a more abstract way.

Take Indigo Jack, for example. And she only knew that was his name because someone had yelled at him. But already, she could kind of like him. Like almost everyone else, he must have been here for the second semester of freshman interviews, figuring out how the teams were working. Which meant he had been subjected to the chair. It was a kind of hazing ritual, Coco supposed. You needed an ass of iron to make that chair work for you. That was the hilarious point. Given how she didn't particularly pay attention to many boys' asses, that pretty much just left Pyrrha in her mind. So this guy, Indigo Jack, nearly six and a half feet tall and built like a swimmer, had apparently just stolen one of the chairs down in the first floor lobby, dragged it into the elevator, and was now casually lounging around on a sofa while everyone else in the room was standing around awkwardly.

She had to respect that kind of can-do attitude. She legitimately never would have thought of that.

But speaking of respect.

Coco cleared her throat. "Ah, so everyone's here. My name is Headmistress Coco Adel, the bombastic new principal of this school, and—"

"No, you're not," Cardin called out.

He couldn't have seen it because of her sunglasses, but she was trying to shoot lasers out of her eyes at him. She couldn't do that, but maybe if she hated him hard enough, her dream would come true.

"I don't really mean to be that guy," he continued, "but why are we just standing around here? And why are you in that chair?"

"I second that," Jaune said, coming up from behind Cardin. The two boys glanced at each other before grabbing hands and doing a bro-ish movement halfway between a hug and a chest bump.

"You're only alive because Jaune says murdering you is wrong," Coco said evenly. "Stop talking or I'm going to forget that."

Cardin made a face. "Wait, I am? What did I do?"

"Velvet," Jaune said.

"Who?"

"Ligma."

Cardin let out a soft, "Oh." That buff giant had the gall to look uncomfortable. "I thought I apologized for that?"

"You apologized to an entirely different bunny girl," Pyrrha said, her hands behind her back. She gave an awkward smile. "I thought you were just going down the list of people you were rude to. I'm guessing that was my mistake for assuming."

Cardin stared ahead. Coco swore she could see the gears in his head cranking. "In my defense," he said, "I am now so blind to race I can't even tell faunus apart."

"I think that's worse, you fucking lunk," Jaune said helpfully.

"You said you wouldn't use that word anymore!" Cardin whined.

Coco felt a vein in her forehead bulge. She was so glad for her sunglasses. Putting her hand over her mouth, she said, "Everyone please shut up. I'm pretty sure the headmaster was just waiting for us all to get together so he could show up fashionably late and surprise us. He did this last year." She rolled her eyes. "Way to ruin my dramatic moment. And for the record, the only reason I'm here is because I'm pretty sure there's an extra dangerous mission they want a sophomore team to go with you on. They also did that last year. So, yeah!"

"How long did le vieux take last year to show up?" Jack asked, continuing to lounge on his stolen couch, the only person here actually comfortable.

Coco hopped the desk and stuck the landing. "Honestly, I think we just have to keep talking and acting confused and he'll just show up when we're mid-sentence at some point."

She considered. "Or maybe he's running late. The man is mysterious."

"Mysterious, my ass," Jaune said.

As the assembled team leaders grouped up into vague associations, and started just idly chatting or just standing around waiting for this thing to get over, Coco seized on Jaune.

"Your ass isn't very mysterious," she told him, heading on up to him. "I've seen you showering, remember?"

Cardin looked between the two of them, confused. "Wait, are you two together?"

Jaune snorted. "Please. I would be way less subtle if we were together. I'd be like, Damn, girl, is that a cake in your jeans, or are you just happy to see me? Because I'm pretty sure I can see that thing from space. It just don't quit." He paused for effect. "I'm pretty sure that's how boys and girls are supposed to talk. Or is that too much?"

"Boy, you keep going on. I know what I got," Coco said with a wink. "You just do you—because we both know I'm not doing you."

"Well, there you have it," Jaune said, waving a hand.

Cardin didn't look like that helped him. "Wait, how come when I say that stuff, it's sexual harassment, but when he says it—"

She lowered her sunglasses to him, staring down the boy who was still a head taller than her. "What did I tell you about talking?"

"Look, I get it, I was a dick," he said, changing tracks towards her and away from his deplorable attitude towards women. "But if it pissed you off so much, why didn't you do anything?"

Jaune grabbed Cardin's shoulder and pushed him away. "Really not the time right now, bro."

"But—"

"Walk away from her right now and keep living, or I'm going to purposely give you the wrong weights next time I spot you at the bench press."

Cardin tried to gasp, and then paused. "Extra heavy or extra light?"

"Extra light."

Cardin resumed gasping. "Alright, alright, I'll have my heroic redemption arc on my own!"

Coco watched him leave. And then kept staring at him when he glanced backwards at them. Just to make sure he was really gone and off to bother someone else.

"God, he is retarded," Coco said, adjusting her beret. Her eyes went to Jaune, sizing up that outfit he was wearing. She had heard from Ruby that the two of them were working on some clothing, and she had to commend this choice of fashion. It just screamed incredibly fit Huntsman who was proud of it, and liked to look good doing it. The colors might need some work; she thought it was a little bit too bright. And the back of his little shoulder jacket thing looked a little bit too close to a cape for her preference. But that feather brooch was oddly… it was nice to look at. She didn't know why.

"Only in that he has absolutely no cardio," Jaune said mildly. "Just start chasing him and he'll eventually drop dead."

"I'm sure the girls in his life are thrilled," she said with a chuckle. When she was sure they were alone, she punched Jaune in the shoulder. "And where the hell have you been, kid? Feels like I haven't seen you in ever. What happened to your beard?"

He held up his hands, laughing. "I decided I wasn't aerodynamic enough, so I shaved off all of my body hair."

"Bullshit. You still have eyebrows!"

He waggled them. "They're tattooed on. The artist in the city you showed me threw them in for free last time I visited her. See?" The boy held up his arm.

Coco leaned forward, rubbing her chin, making a show of examining his tattoos. They were a little more filled in the last time she saw him. She looked at the words on his arm and read them aloud, "Thou art my battle ax and weapon of war?" She gave a so-so gesture. "I still think you should have gone with some cool song, but whatever this is works. Old poetry is a classic. Sounds really dramatic and murdery. You still doing that thing where you claim to be really funny in your own head but are really depressing out loud?"

"Trying. But the man in the mirror says I should give up my dreams of stand up comedy. What about you?"

Coco gave him a blank look. There were no thoughts in her head. It was kind of weird doing it, just sort of letting the wind rustle in her ears. It felt oddly hollow, not being introspective or whatever it was that Jaune tried to do.

That scar on his cheek is new, she thought, and frowned. Curse you, intrusive observations!

So she nodded. "Yeah. They happen occasionally. I think I finally achieved entry-level consciousness."

"Damn," Jaune swore. "I wish I were that cool."

"Who doesn't wish they were as cool as me?" she said, winking.

"Speaking of cool, is that a new beret?"

Coco blinked, her hands going to her hat in an unusually self-conscious motion. "I—yeah. Lost my old one on a mission towards the end of last semester. But it's the same color and design; how'd you notice?"

He made a gesture like running a straight razor over his cheek. "You didn't shave it enough. It's still a little fuzzier than your old beret."

"How the hell do you know how berets work?"

Jaune shrugged. "I know a thing or two. Like how you're supposed to shave them, but if you do it too much, they get too thin and it won't work. How you're supposed to tie it off in the back and then burn off the loose strings. And how you're supposed to shower with it on, spending like an hour just petting it over your head until it fits."

She mimed petting her own head, and it just felt weird. "Is that why this thing keeps looking like a chef's hat? I thought it was just because it's from a different brand; can't find the one I like outside of the town near Pharos. Old one was a custom order."

With a twinkle in his eye, he said, "Hit me up next time I'm showering. I can teach you how it's done."

She cocked a brow. "Only if you promise to help me wash my back."

"No homo, right?"

Coco poked him square in the chest. "None," she singsonged. "In fact—"

The elevator at the back of the room opened up. And there he was, pressed in his finest suit, leaning just slightly on his cane. Professor Ozpin, headmaster of Beacon. A lot of people just called him the headmaster, even though he was technically a professor, although Coco had absolutely zero idea what he was a professor of. All the same, he was the youngest headmaster in the school's history, and if rumors were to be believed, absolutely fucking terrifying in a fight.

More to the point, the incredibly intimidating and stylish Professor Goodwitch respected him to a fault. And if that wasn't a ringing endorsement of his character and ability, Coco didn't know what was.

Professor Ozpin stepped casually into the room, carrying a manila folder under his arm. "I do believe I've reached my dramatic tension quota for the day," he said easily. "Miss Adel, I appreciate you keeping the students in line for me while we—"

His eyes were scanning the room. Individually meeting every student in the eyes, and letting them know he was in charge, that this was all part of the plan. But that stopped as soon as he looked at Jaune. It was a fractional thing, but she caught it; this pause in the mouth, a slight straining of the lips, and a narrowing of the eyes. It gave her a momentary wave of goosebumps.

No one but her seemed to really notice. Not even Jaune. He just looked unusually intense, listening to the headmaster talk.

"—finished up our mission dossiers," Professor Ozpin said, setting the envelope on his desk. He squinted vaguely towards Indigo Jack and his stolen couch, before completely ignoring it. If anything, it seemed to amuse him. The kind of subtle yet flippant attitude that she knew him for. And not that weird little pause.

It just stood out to her in some way. Unconsciously, she found herself folding her arms, and taking what she almost thought was a defensive step towards Jaune.

She recalled Jaune talking about having some trouble with the headmaster. It sounded more like tough disciplinary love than anything else. The same kind of way Professor Goodwitch handled misbehaving students. But that look—it was almost hostile, yet surprised. Had she misread the situation? Did Professor Ozpin not like Jaune? That was some bullshit.

Jaune glanced at her, and she quickly stuck her tongue out at him before anyone could see. He put his hand to his chest in mock offense; for just a moment, he lost that hard look in his eyes.

Professor Ozpin opened the folder and spread little dossiers over his desk. "As most of you should be aware, field exercises are an important element to becoming Huntsmen. Most all of them you've had so far have been freshman class activities out into the forests surrounding campus. You have all been together, typically under close supervision by multiple professional Huntsmen. Given that all of you made it this far and no one has died—" He spread his hands magnanimously. "I believe I'm well within my rights to trust you to leave for proper missions. Supervised by a professor, you will be going out into the field otherwise alone. These tasks can range from the seemingly mundane, such as assisting local police work—"

Once again, Professor Ozpin stole a glance towards Jaune. Was that a slight dig about the way Team BASS had jumped the gun and got involved against the White Fang earlier last semester? In an abstract way, it almost felt like a slap in the face. She'd been putting in time with Jaune, mostly bullshiting and just hanging out, but trying to nudge him in the right direction as the team leader. Casting shade on his team was indirectly casting shade on her, since, by proxy, it meant she was doing a pretty shitty job as a mentor figure. Even if nine times out of ten she was a bad influence, the tenth time was where she made it count. Like the way he had told her that her almost joking advice to pick up a hobby had wound up helping him connect with Weiss. Her advice in action making them a better team. It almost made her proud; and that casual slight put a bad taste in her mouth.

Whatever it was, the expression on the man's face didn't seem nearly as… off, this time.

"To the more extreme," he continued, "such as an expedition to the ruins of Mountain Glenn to retrieve technical documents from the remains of Merlot Industries."

That got a murmur of excitement among the gathered team leaders.

Professor Ozpin held up his hand. Everyone quieted. "Not all of these missions will be immediate. Some of them are soon, and some of them are later than others, depending on time constraints. All of them have been graded on approximate danger and difficulty by our professors. The reason this matters is because you have a choice. You are all team leaders. Out there in the real world, there won't inherently be some organization dictating what you can and cannot do like an academy would. It will be up to you to figure that out. To judge a task by its merits and the abilities of your team. Some of you may think you are better fighters, and some of you think you are better investigators. All of these are tools in the Huntsman's arsenal. Just because we have a mission here asking you to help bring supplies to build a water purification device in a settlement out on the frontier, does not make it any more or less important than a mission chasing down sightings of the Shrike."

Coco made a grave face, but she knew her sunglasses hid most of it. They let her look even and in complete control. "Wait, is that the super dangerous mission you want my team to go on with?" she asked. "Someone actually saw the Shrike?"

Professor Ozpin gave her a knowing, almost fatherly look. "I want you to excel, not get you all killed. That was just an example. None of these missions should involve any sort of legendary Grimm. But I appreciate you allowing me to segue to the final part." He tapped one of the pieces of paper on his desk. "Coco is the leader of Team CFVY, the highest ranked team in the sophomore class. As per tradition, they are given the opportunity to lead a freshman team on a more dangerous mission. While they will have the radio support of a professor, they will be acting as the overseers; partially to train them to help others, especially considering this mission may require extra hands on deck."

He tapped his cane to the floor twice. "Naturally, the details of this mission are to be kept on the down low. It's best that information like this doesn't accidentally leak to HuntsHub or the press. Social media has rapidly become my newest cancer." Professor Ozpin flashed just the smallest smile. "But rest assured, it will be difficult, and I encourage you to take your strongest pick to assist and guide."

"I thought we got to choose our missions?" Cardin said, raising a hand.

"Very good, you're paying attention," he said, holding up one finger. "But in this instance, as the leader of Team CFVY, Coco has volunteered by being here, and she gets to voluntell one of you to bring your team along. It would be rather unfair if a team with unsuitable specialties chose to go along with them." His eyes went to Jaune, and there was something dismissive in that look that Coco didn't like. "This is not a game of favorites; this is as much a test of her judgment as it will be for you all with your own assignments. Beacon affords its students degrees of trust and leeway because we expect nothing but the best. And this is why, as team leaders, this is your unilateral decision. If things go wrong, this is on your head. And if it goes right, then you are just a piece of the successful puzzle."

"I know who I'm bringing," Coco said quickly, apparently so soon that Professor Ozpin gave her a curious look.

"Do you now?" he asked with all the slowness of a cat that had recently been fed. His eyes went to Pyrrha.

Honestly, it was pretty obvious what he was doing, what he was insinuating. So obvious that Coco couldn't help but doubt she was reading things correctly. He was making it so easy. Of course he was implying that she should invite Pyrrha and Team VYPR to go with them on whatever this mission was. They were the best team of the freshman year, bar none. Between the invincible Pyrrha, the uncatchable Ruby, the impossibly destructive Yang, and the never gets fat despite how many pancakes she eats Nora, any task you set them to would probably get destroyed with effortless ease. They were the second coming of Team CFVY. And Coco was pretty good friends with Ruby, so she had that personal attachment to bring the girl and her team along.

But that was just the thing. They were almost too good. There was this feeling like if she brought them along, then there was nothing for Team CFVY to do. There were no lessons to really teach them. Nothing that they weren't already on the fast track to getting. It would be like bringing the cavalry to a cavalry fight. Double cavalry. Or maybe, like, the Royal Valean Air Cavalry to a horse cavalry fight.

Way too many cavalries involved, was what she was getting at.

In her mind's eye, she saw that look again. That oddly chilling look Ozpin gave Jaune. The way he had looked at him when he mentioned unsuitable teams. Jaune had spoken of almost hating the old man; the way he felt like Ozpin's bitch, as he put it. The way he claimed to always be screwing things up. And the way that team BASS had slowly been rising through the ranks since Coco got involved. They weren't the best team by far. Perhaps in the top five, but there weren't altogether too, too many teams this freshman year. No one expected miracles from the team, but they always did expect a spectacle.

Jaune wanted a chance to do right. To show his team he could be a leader. And, hopefully, to take Coco's personal lessons to heart.

What was the point in bringing along perfection?

What you really wanted to bring was receptive.

And to make sure Professor Ozpin never gives you that look again because I've made you so good, she added mentally.

Coco grabbed Jaune by the wrist and raised his hand. "This one. Team BASS," she said with a cool, almost detached air. "I've had my eye on them for a while. I think we can show them a thing or two."

Jaune stared at her, just kind of letting her hold his wrist. Before he eventually slithered out of her grasp. "Well, if I don't got a choice in the matter," he said reluctantly.

"When have you ever had a choice around me?"

"Touché," he said, and then shrugged. "Alright, screw it, we're in for a penny, in for a pound. Do I have to sign some kind of paperwork, some kind of liability agreement, or do I just go in there and hope I don't die?"

Professor Ozpin was silent. He glanced again at Pyrrha, before his eyes fell upon Coco and Jaune. He seemed to want to say something, but bit it back. An altogether alien bit of body language from the man.

So at length, he simply shrugged. "And there we have it. The tradition of the best sophomore team picking a freshman team to assist them," he said, like nothing was wrong. Like this was all part of his plan. "Everyone else, please gather around and decide upon which dossier you would like to take up this semester."

— 11 —

He heard it again as soon as he was alone, that fucking song. It wasn't real; he knew it was all in his head. But it was like the sound of the ocean when you put your ear up to a seashell. All that was, strictly speaking, was the sound of your own blood going through your ears. Cupped alone in a vacuum, you could hear the individual pulses of your heart sending blood through your veins and capillaries. In the infant silence, blood sounded like the roar of the tide.

Like that fucking song.

He couldn't help himself. A slumped forwards at his desk, resting his head in his hands.

The idea had been pretty simple. It hadn't even been particularly complicated or malicious manipulation. He had intended for the best sophomore team to take the best freshman team with them on a mission out to Montluçon. It had been a special request from someone high in the government, the infamous Kieran LaChance. A team of professional Huntsmen had gone missing during a fairly routine mission to the city, and he wanted someone to find out where they were. An almost entirely mundane task, but you could never trust anything to be merely mundane when it involved the Monster of Montluçon. Nevertheless, this request had come through official, if somewhat secretive, government channels. They wanted to make sure the taxpayers' money going to this academy was being put to good use.

So he had intended for Team CFVY to take along team VYPR, and try to play it off like it was their decision the entire time. VYPR was the team he had his eye on most, primarily because it included Ruby Rose, who had the same silver eyes as her mother. In the end it had quite literally come up to a coin toss over whom to give leadership on the team, Ruby or Pyrrha. He had naturally wanted the silver-eyed girl to be in charge much like he had done with Summer. But the rest of the teachers on staff had liked Pyrrha more, and it wasn't like he could reveal why he was particularly interested in one incredibly precocious but otherwise normal enough girl. So he had settled it with a coin toss, and lost.

Definitely should have used Oobleck's trick coin.

He knew that Coco Adel was on good terms with Ruby. That had come out during the interview with the girl. The same interview where he learned the uncomfortable fact that apparently she was close friends with Jaune, which in hindsight should have been obvious given the way she had given him a ride back home. Whatever the case, he had suspected that, given the chance for an extra dangerous special assignment like this, Coco would jump at the chance to bring her friend along, especially the friend on the best team of the year. It just made perfect sense. Almost like a kind of specialized training for both of these teams.

It would perfectly further his goals of honing his sharpest tools for the future together like a pair of knives.

What he hadn't expected, what hadn't come out in any interview, was Coco being close with Jaune. A boy he had only officially reinstated as team leader due to an air of impartiality, having to pretend like he wasn't terribly interested in the kid, and working within the confines of the official paper trail and recommendations of the therapist he assigned Jaune. The only reason the boy had ever been made team leader in the first place was because of his record setting pace at getting to the relic during initiation, and broadly gathering up the rest of his team to the finish line in an injured state, something he hadn't even seemed to remember doing. If not for his habit of weird behavior, he probably would have been nothing remarkable, and just another blip in this year's roster.

The way Coco had jumped to take him along almost didn't make sense, though. She had done it so quickly, without thinking it over. Barely even considering the person he thought she was friends with, and instead settling for that boy. Like she had complete and utter faith in him, his abilities, and those of his team.

He keeps worming himself into the hearts of my most promising students.

But truth be told, none of that really mattered. If that were all that had happened, it would just be a minor annoyance. While he liked to stay in control of things, Ozpin wasn't omnipotent. He wasn't the Great King or the Final Emperor anymore, just an old man who knew how people worked a little bit too well.

What bothered him was why he kept hearing that fucking song in his head.

The thing on Jaune Arc's chest. All it was was a feather. A simple, pristine, large white feather made into a kind of broach to hold his jacket together. But as soon as he saw it, he knew exactly what it was, and it was a force of effort to remain standing.

That white feather was a magical artifact. He could sense it at the edges of perception. In the fringes of his nose like a memory of a long dead mother's cooking. It was impossible to look away when you saw it. And the closer he got to it, the louder the music got.

Ozpin could tell the moment Jaune left the CCTS tower when he stopped hearing the song in his head. That haunting, once romantic noise like the ocean in a shell.

Jaune was in possession of a magical artifact. He didn't think it was particularly powerful, but it was imbued with something unnatural. More like a beacon than some kind of ancient magical staff or artifact. The mystical equivalent of a chip in your dog's neck, he estimated. But without any particular point or ability inherent to the feather, it must have been some kind of message.

It was an item of magical feeling without any ability. It was a warning. Jaune was openly flaunting what he was doing, and what he was. And Ozpin had absolutely no idea what to make of that. Except for the worst possible conclusion. The feather was something only two people could create or imbue with such abilities.

One of them was himself.

The other was her.

Except even that didn't properly make sense. This wasn't how she operated. And creatures as old as she was weren't prone to switching up their methods like this at the drop of a hat. In any case, if he were one of her agents, Jaune wouldn't have been this cautious, wouldn't have been this easy to manipulate just by threatening the happiness of his friends and teammates, as if he had motives entirely of his own, irrespective of anyone else.

Which left one possibility. A possibility he thought he'd always known of, but had been continuously dancing around, praying that it wasn't true, praying that there was some more obvious solution he was just missing. A possibility he had been staring in the face since the first entrance exams when he chose to let a descendant of one of his former lives into the school despite his better judgment. The boy knew far more than he should; even people like his teammate Weiss seem to be aware of that, just not to the extent. The soldiers in the tower claimed Jaune was an unusually helpful asset, which a boy of his age shouldn't have any right to be. He kept worming his way into all Ozpin's most important future assets as if he were always one step ahead of Ozpin and planning his own little coup. And now he was openly flaunting what he was. Just like the words on the tattoo on his arm. Thou art my battle ax and weapon of war: with thee will I tear to pieces the nations, and with thee will I destroy kingdoms.

The boy was getting more bold.

Ozpin knew the truth, even if it didn't make any sense, even if he couldn't explain it, and even if he suspected that knowing would only make it worse.

The Danse Macabre wearing human flesh.

Jaune was a third player in this game.