Chapter 5: Stargazing with Murderous Intent

"I put the fun in dysfunctional."

— 13 —

Shamrock couldn't help but stare at the boy with the incredibly unlikely name of Fox Alistair. He was kind of where they looked towards by default, since they sat across from each other on the bullhead. Calling it a bullhead really missed the point. It was as close to a luxury private airship as you could get at this size. It actually came equipped with chairs. Chairs. Some of them even got window seats to lean back and then fall asleep in.

Coco and Jaune were sitting together in the back. She had this almost sinister smile as she looked out across the bullhead, swirling around sparkling grape juice in a wine glass. Jaune just pretended to be asleep, leaning against the window, and occasionally mumbling to Coco when she talked to him.

It seemed like everybody had fallen in line on the same side of the ship as their team leader. Team CFVY had the left, and BASS had the right. Weiss sat beside Shamrock, idly listening to her headphones. Blake looked somehow hilariously alone, just sitting in a comfy chair by herself next to an empty one. She had tried filling the spot that would have held Jaune with his duffel bag in a way that Shamrock couldn't help but find sad yet funny.

There was Velvet near the window seat on the other end, the rabbit girl with a camera. Those ears were like a foot long. Her partner was the seven-foot Mistrali giant who did not at all fit into that suit he was trying to wear; the whole thing looked kind of like an oversized baby bib on him.

But Fox?

Shamrock couldn't help but stare at the red headed boy with the deep tan skin. Skin that reminded Shamrock of the flesh that they were born with. He had the kind of lean build of the boys back home who used to go plunging into the ruins in the sand, the desert equivalent of a swimmer's build. Assuming they lived long enough not to get eaten alive by the giant ticks or other monsters that made their home in the dunes. Just looking at the boy, they felt this uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. They were looking at a kinsman in a way. Not of the same tribe they were from. Maybe not even from the same part of the continent. Likely not even the same deserts. People looked at Vacuo and just saw one big desert, but the different regions were unique. Some of them were shifting tides of golden sand, others were hardpan, others were like cactus forests, and a couple of them were even like dune swamps. The animals and threats were different from region to region.

But what Shamrock kept looking at was the boy's eyes. That sort of milky texture. Back in their home kabile, a child born blind would have just been left to the dunes. It was the same way with any kind of deformity. A risk you couldn't take. There weren't any wounds around the eyes to imply he had been hurt later in life; Fox must have been born like that. Shamrock almost felt vaguely jealous in a way. They wondered what their life would have been like had they grown up in a tribe more forgiving and accepting. Maybe they wouldn't have this damn Semblance of theirs.

He kept fidgeting. Rubbing his knuckles over his dead eyes. Biting his fingernails. At one point he tore off a bit of skin and spent a good moment sucking on his finger to prevent himself from bleeding all over his outfit. He had all the look of someone coming down from a tetrameth high. But Shamrock knew that drug was no worse than any other poison. Some of the worst side effects of tetrameth were visual effects, provided it was cut correctly and not just some street trash. He just looked agitated. When he did stop, it was to look over his shoulder and stare at Jaune. He would do this for a good minute or two before resuming fidgeting with himself.

The weirdest part was how everyone else on the team seemed to react to it in subtle ways. Fox would make some kind of slight gesture, not even visible to any of them through the chair, and someone like Coco would make a face. She would get distracted from trying to bother the half-asleep Jaune and look a little distant. Or Velvet would go from looking out the window to one of her ears sticking up like she was listening to something. She would occasionally look thoughtful or amused at absolutely nothing. The giant Yatsuhashi sitting beside her was the most stoic. He seemed lost in his own head most of the time, and would only occasionally surface to look… kind of tired and sarcastic. But he wasn't saying anything. At best, he would give a knowing look over his shoulder towards Coco.

Shamrock kept staring and watching in silence. They didn't see a need to talk. They had their suit unbuttoned and folded in their lap, their hat atop it. No one paid them any attention. It was like no one could see them here, especially not the blind boy.

Until he did.

The boy looked up, his eyes going directly to Shamrock. They didn't adjust or focus or do anything. They were completely dead, completely inert.

"Can I help you?" he asked, alone in his little two-chair aisle.

Shamrock played with the hat in their hands. "You're blind." They didn't know what else to say but the obvious.

Fox gave them this blank look as he reached his hand up to his eyes. He felt around them with his look of concern, before gasping. "Holy crap, I can't see anything!"

Velvet stood up, poking her head over the chairs. "Oh no, Fox!"

"Why did no one tell me I was blind before today?" Fox demanded, throwing his hands up. "Now I'll never accomplish my dream of being a pianist!"

The giant Yatsuhashi sitting behind him made a face. "I thought you said you always wanted to be a concert violinist."

Fox gave him a look. "Pianist sounds funnier so I decided to go with that."

Yatsuhashi looked thoughtful. "Hmm. Pianist. Penis. I see."

"Well, that makes one of us!" Fox said.

Shamrock tilted their head. "So I guess you're just afraid of flying?"

They expected Fox to make a face at them. But it turned out that apparently when you were born blind like that, your sense of expressions weren't quite right. Sure, he did look confused, but there was something almost comically theatrical about it that at the same time felt kind of raw. Like he didn't know he shouldn't be pulling those muscles back quite that far.

"Why would you say that?" he asked.

"Or maybe it's all of you?" Shamrock continued.

Next to them, Weiss took off their headphones. After shaking her hair loose and trying to get out the dent from the earphones, she said, "What's going on?"

Shamrock twitched their head towards the aisle at Team CFVY. "Them. They're acting kind of weird. Are you guys nervous?"

"I don't think we really do nervous anymore," Velvet said, one of her ears cocking slightly. It was a bit more like how Blake used her ears. Shamrock had to wonder where that accent was from. "I can imagine you guys might be; I know I got jitters on my first mission. But after being on a few, you get used to it. It's kind of comforting to go out into the field. Honest!"

"So, then how come all of you are so weirdly silent?"

Shamrock saw Blake looking at them through the gap in the chair.

"We're not really saying anything either," Blake said. "Coco and Jaune are the loudest ones here."

"Then why are all of you fidgeting like that?" Shamrock asked, refusing to let up on the topic.

Coco laughed. "There's no in-flight coffee and I'm coming down from a pretty bad caffeine crash. About the only one I have for entertainment back here is Jaune." She gave him a playful push, saying through gritted teeth, "Who keeps trying to fall asleep before we land at the hotel. At least save that for bed. We have to find Team CCHS."

Jaune opened his eyes, looking tired. "Are you gonna leave me to staring out across the dark water tonight or do I actually gotta contribute?"

"You have been a bit tight-lipped about this," Blake said, poking her tongue into her cheek. She was staring at Coco.

"I have?" Jaune asked. "Shit. Sorry. I was up all last night. I thought I told y'all but maybe I was just rambling. I guess I just forgot to explain everything properly?"

"So that's why you were up so early making breakfast; you didn't go to bed at all," Blake accused.

"And I've been staying awake with amphetamine cola all day," he sighed. "I be this close to passin' out."

"Why?" Blake asked.

"Because we were going over the plan last night. It took a while to figure it out," Weiss said primly. If those two have been up all night, then she had found some unholy dark secret to being able to look well rested despite it all. Shamrock was envious.

Blake turned that same expression she was giving Coco towards Weiss, saying nothing.

Looking almost a little giddy, Weiss said, "We're here to study under Team CFVY on a mission to Montluçon. We will arrive at a lovely hotel, with the first night provided to us by the leader of the city, Councilman Kieran LaChance. All of this is in the service of figuring out what happened to the lost team of Huntsmen called CCHS. Which I'm pretty sure is pronounced Cochise."

"And I'm still not really sure what colour that is," Velvet said. "I usually think our team name was a stretch. It kind of makes me feel better seeing other teams with even worse names."

Coco snorted. "CFVY is a perfectly understandable name. Are you telling me you don't start the day with a cup of cuff-vee?"

"Coffee," Velvet said flatly.

"That's what I said. Cuff-vee. Just like how it's spelled. Our perfectly normal, run of the mill, not peculiar team name." She lowered her sunglasses and winked.

Jaune groaned, taking his eyes from the window. "It's an old Apache word. Last place I was before Beacon was a place called Cochise, right next to Tombstone. I saw the O.K. Corral where they had that famous gunfight. Cochise means oak or sommat. He was, uh, was one of their famous chiefs the army couldn't nail down and kill."

"What's an Apache?" Velvet asked.

He gave her a mild look. "Warrior horse tribe the government fought."

"So Cochise was a faunus?" she asked.

Jaune studied Velvet for a long moment. "I think this is the first time you and I have ever actually talked, and it's about something as stupid as a name. I feel like this should be more dramatic somehow, you and I. Blake too, since she's involved."

Velvet looked like she had half a mind to say something nasty, but just couldn't find it in her. She shrugged. "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know. I heard you got annoyed I punched Cardin in the face. That could be fun to work out between us."

With an exaggerated, sarcastic slowness, Velvet raised her hands and shook them. "Oh no, it's that jerk who tried to stand up for me but instead wound up in a bromantic relationship with my former bully." She shrugged it off. "I don't really do grudges. And aside from your… new gym partner, I guess, you and Blake had your hearts in the right place. It was stupid and I never asked for help, but your hearts work, I mean. I'm not going to stay mad over something like that."

Blake's ears were at attention; Shamrock could tell. "So you also think it's pretty weird he's best friends with that boy now, right?"

Velvet rubbed her arms uncomfortably. "Can we… not do this right now?"

"Do what?" Blake asked.

"I'm really not feeling like a philosophical heart to heart about morality or whatever." Velvet tried to smile. "Can we just focus on moving forward and getting room service? I've never been on a mission that actually offered full hotel room service. Usually the best luxuries we get are an outhouse instead of having to dig pits for ourselves."

Shamrock watched the VTOL filled with people just talking and bantering and basically saying absolutely nothing. They didn't have anything to contribute. All they did was find themselves staring at Fox again. He was the least talkative one here, but he was making expressions. What would have been a minor facial tick on him looked more exaggerated. Shamrock watched as occasionally a member of Team CFVY would almost react to it without seeing his face. At one point, Shamrock watched as Velvet blatantly was paying attention to the boy, and was talking like she was repeating something from a headset coaching her on to make a joke.

And then there were the moments when Fox looked bothered and in pain again. Usually whenever he paused to pay attention to Jaune. He grit his teeth at one point, and Coco just shrugged. She wasn't talking and no one was talking to her. She just shrugged and elbowed Jaune, who didn't seem to understand why he was the current victim of a physical abuse

There was no way to explain it. But there was no way it wasn't happening either. It made Shamrock's arms feel itchy for some reason. Something really weird was going on they couldn't explain. And they couldn't just let it drop.

"Why do you all react like that when Fox makes faces?" Shamrock said.

Fox gave Shamrock a dull look. "We're just in tune. Once you've been around a couple of life or death situations with a bunch of people, you kind of key in like that."

"That makes sense," Shamrock said, folding their arms. "Except how that doesn't explain anything. It's all just so—" Shamrock waved their hands around, trying to slap the right words out from thin air, and they couldn't.

"Chill," Coco said from the back, pouring herself another wine glass of sparkling white grape juice. "But he's right; we're pretty in tune with each other. One day, you'll be like us I hope. At least that's what I'm trying to teach blondie here." She reached over to ruffle Jaune's hair, and sighed sadly. "It's not quite as demeaning with your beard gone."

Jaune sat up, rolling his eyes. "It's his Semblance. Fox is a telepath."

"What?!" Coco, Fox, and Velvet all set at once.

Yatsuhashi looked around nervously, before saying, "Uh, what?"

Velvet elbowed her partner.

"Hey! I just wanted to be in on the team moment of surprise too," he said, sulking.

Team CFVY all exchanged looks in silence for an uncomfortable moment. Shamrock didn't know what to make of it. But if Jaune was telling the truth, a lot of things were starting to make a lot of sense.

Whatever internal dialogue they were having, Fox in the end just sighed. "Okay, Jaune. How the hell did you figure that out?"

Jaune sat up fully, looking more awake and aware that all eyes were on him. "Was… I not supposed to know that? Everybody doesn't know this?"

"No!" Fox said. "It's our ace in the hole. The fact that no one knows what I can do is a pretty big advantage for our team. How did you just figure it out?"

"Because you just told me," Jaune said.

Coco laughed. "Yeah, no. That line only works in the movies. Fess up. I'm actually pretty curious."

To Shamrock's surprise, Weiss actually replied on his behalf. "He just kind of does this, Jaune. He's weirdly observant about the strangest things. You leave him alone and he'll, y'know. Yeah." Weiss rubbed her arms, evidently feeling just a little weird and dirty for actually having defended Jaune.

Shamrock was nodding slowly, however. "I guess that makes sense. I picked up on it but couldn't figure what. Jaune, you're just a better guesser, maybe?"

"I know everyone's Semblance," Jaune said. He seemed confused at his own revelation, like his own factual statement was a surprise to him. Jaune sniffed and rubbed his nose like he expected blood.

Fox visibly looked ill. One moment he was watching Jaune, and the next he was screwing his eyes shut and pressing his back into his comfortable chair. Just breathing.

Shamrock expected Team CFVY to do it again. To all come together as one and act surprised and ask what and how Jaune knew. Maybe to test him in case he was just bluffing. But all of them looked too bothered to say anything.

"Stop. That. Fox," Yatsuhashi said, teeth grit.

Fox clicked his tongue. And it felt like a weight had been taken out of the air. Team CFVY all let out collective breaths. Had Fox severed the telepathic connection?

"Was he doing something with his Semblance?" Shamrock asked, pointing at Fox

"No," Fox said. "Blondie is doing something with his. Look, I know I'm the blind guy here, but I can't be the only one who sees it, right?"

"Sees what?" Blake asked, sitting backwards, arm draped over the top of the chair. She was frowning badly.

"You're with him everyday and you don't see that freaky Aura?" Fox asked, and laughed disbelievingly. "I—I'm blind, you know? I have a really good sense of Auras. His just freaks me out. You really can't see it with your actual working eyeballs? He just did a thing right now. It hurts to look at. Or to sense. Or whatever verb you want to use for how I see the world. I don't care. It just makes me uncomfortable."

Jaune rubbed his nose on his sleeve and sniffed. "I haven't figured out my Semblance yet, man. I just kind of focus on fighting good, having the best cardio in the world, and being our tank."

"Yeah," Blake said, sitting back down properly. "It must just be a you thing. I don't know what you're talking about."

Blake was lying. Shamrock knew it for a fact. You could sometimes see it in Jaune's eyes, that constant background burn of Aura. When he looked at you like that, you couldn't help but want to look away. It was freaky in a way you couldn't really put to words in this language. Blake was the girl who activated that Aura; she had a physical contact with it directly, soul to soul. Not to mention the way it made sparring with Jaune vaguely uncomfortable, like you didn't want to get near him to hit him, and you didn't want him near you to hit either. Not when his impossibly no-color Aura was in full force.

Shamrock looked at Weiss.

Weiss looked placid, completely in control. "Agreed," she said, covering for both of them. "The only thing uncomfortable about him is his sense of humor."

"I thought you said we were past that!" Jaune snapped.

With this almost smug little smile, Weiss turned to him and said, "I said that you had gotten better. But better doesn't mean success. I still said you weren't funny or charming."

Jaune hissed. "Shamrock, back me up! I'm funny and not at all uncomfortable, right?"

Everyone's eyes were on Shamrock, exactly where they didn't belong. It was bad enough forcing themselves to talk just to try to figure out what was going on with Fox. But now everyone was looking at them. More importantly, Blake and Weiss seem to be imploring them. They were lying to Team CFVY's faces. They couldn't have known what they were lying about, just some kind of intrinsic, reflex desire to protect their teammate and pretend everything was fine. Now they were all pointing it back onto Shamrock, asking them to join in.

To pretend like there wasn't anything wrong with Jaune's Aura. That nothing about it made anyone feel weird. That he could just stare at you and look through you and know everything about you and that was perfectly normal.

Shamrock could tell the truth. Or Shamrock could blend into the shadows and go along with their team. Refuse to rock the boat and just be a part of the greater whole.

There's always a choice. But sometimes peer pressure and circumstances mean there really isn't one outside of wishful thinking.

So Shamrock put on their red top hat and shrugged. "I don't know. You told me the only reason you never tried to sexually harass me was because, and I quote, you sexually confuse me enough as is, you Brendon Urie looking ass fuck. I don't even know who Brendon Urie is."

"He's hot," Jaune called out "It's a compliment. I'm not gay."

Shamrock cocked an eyebrow at him. "I choose not to be offended. You're the same jackass as always. Nothing weird about you that way."

Fox just made a face. "Oh, c'mon. I'm not crazy here! I'm not—"

Everyone felt the sudden shake of the airship. The bullhead was losing altitude in a controlled fall. A little intercom buzzed to life.

"Yo," the intercom said, uncomfortably casual and informal. "This would be your captain speaking, but this ship isn't big enough for a captain. So I guess I'm more like a warrant officer? Anyhow, we're coming down now in Montluçon atop the Pavot Rouge. Please fasten your seatbelts and stay seated. Or maybe sit down and then fasten your seatbelts. I don't know; I'm not your mother."

— 14 —

Did you know you know sleep is the first thing to go when you're hungry? Really, truly hungry. Days without food kind of hungry. The body kicks into survival mode. An adrenaline-adjacent chemical called norepinephrine, a chemical so biologically powerful that heightened levels are considered a form of doping in the Olympics, kicks into production overdrive. By the time Weiss made bagels, I was up to my eyes in the stuff, wide awake and able to kill a man and feel nothing.

See, the human body is built for nothing short of survival in the face of a world trying to kill it. Nothing short of domination in adversity. Your body biologically presupposes that food is rare and the most important thing in the world. Even the altered gravity and anime physics of Remnant didn't change that. Within hours of burning your last carbohydrates and glycogen for energy, the body stops feeling hungry, discarding that as useless. The same way it begins to shut down all functions non-essential for hunting down and killing. The stomach compresses. The intestines hibernate. The liver begins to use fat for what it's meant for, cannibalizing it for energy, and routing full power to muscles and the chemicals you need to stay in the hunt. Hell, even your sex drives vanishes. Bitches ain't nothing when you gotta find real food.

Faced with the biological worst case scenario, you adapt. Your body alters every conceivable function so you can chase down that motherfucking gazelle on the African savannah and bash its brains in. Tools and intelligence just make getting to that next screen all the easier.

And within moments of eating, you can feel everything return. From the verge of death to moving on like there's nothing wrong. That's what the human form is meant for. If you eat after a fast and then tune in to your body, you can feel it turning back on organ by organ. The stomach roars to work. The intestines fill with signals to resurrect. You can physically feel and hear your guts carving up nutrients and shunting them into the GI tract.

That's just food. Know what you're doing, and that's how you handle every other problem in life. Stress becomes the new baseline. Infantry combat just another moment. Starvation just a phase.

Being team leader of Huntsmen, merely how the world of tomorrow is gonna be.

This is the new normal. Don't overthink it.

As the bullhead touched down, Coco stood beside me by the rear cargo door. We hit the rooftop and watched the hydraulic doors open to a cityscape bathed in winter's laziest. The cold I'd long since accepted as 'tis the season buffeted us. Coco shielded her sunglasses, a curiously out-of-season accessory for the fashionista.

"Hate that we're coming here this time of year," Coco shouted over the dying roar of the engines. "Montluçon should be the obligatory beach episode!"

"Still could try," I said. "I can see the waterfront down yonder. Ever hear of the Polar Bear Club?"

"How do you know about some obscure Solitas holiday?" Weiss asked, hefting her suitcase.

I shrugged. "This is why you can't beat me in Trivial Pursuit, girl."

"I didn't bring a bathing suit," Coco said, lowering her shades to glance at Weiss all the better.

With a dismissive gesture, I said, "Skinny dipping into the ice water and coming back up be the name of the game, girl."

Coco laughed. "You trying to get me naked in this weather?"

"I do it all the time. Ask my teammates," I said, waving my arm into the bullhead.

Blake was making a face. "Trying to get girls naked or being naked?"

"He does have a shirt allergy," Shamrock said, lugging his backpack.

Folding her arms, Blake made an unhappy noise. She kept eying Coco for some reason.

Outside on the rooftop helipad, a figure in white moved. I hadn't seen her in the snow, but in the neon light of the massive Pavot Rouge hotel sign, she was hard to miss. In the red light of the sign, her white bridal gown looked bloodied, with the oversized hips of something from pre-revolutionary France. She had the right makings of a proper outfit beneath it for a warrior, but the extravagant style of a Huntress on the outside with that gown. I couldn't see a visible weapon on her, but instead she was carrying a bird cage. Mechanical apparati in a construction led me to believe it probably transformed into something. But for the moment, all it held were a small number of rather vicious looking birds with metal on their talons and beaks.

She walked halfway up the helipad, and then just stood there, smiling at us. Her free hand was behind her back almost in a facsimile of parade rest. No one outside of the military seemed to really do the posture correctly, and it always vaguely distressed some drilled part of my psychology to see it. The birds in her cage seemed well behaved, just staring at us.

I recalled the details from the dossier and gestured. "Looks like our contact. C'mon. Let's get this trainwreck started."

I took the first step onto the landing pad, with Coco right beside me. We were the team leaders. Technically this was her mission and we were tagging along to learn and act as backup. No sooner had everyone gotten off the ship with our luggage then did the bullhead wind back up and take to the skies. The hum of the engines dimmed slightly before the new hum of the generators atop the roof took over.

It took me a moment to realize it wasn't just the generators. The woman standing in front of us was humming herself.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Coco talked first.

"Yo. I'm Coco Adel, Team CFVY."

I waved. "And we're her backup dancers."

The woman's expression remained this kind of happy little blank. I would have almost thought she was blind with the way she didn't really react. "Monsieur LaChance is expecting you," she hummed. It was a vaguely eerie noise. She kind of just spoke along with her rhythm, like she was singing to herself and couldn't be bothered to stop.

Behind us, our teams gathered, split down the middle behind us. Blake, Shamrock, and Weiss took to my side, and the same was true for Coco's team. It gave me this feeling of them having my back. The same kind of way everyone had lied and covered for me when Fox had asked after my Aura. They were locked step teammates behind their leader. It gave me this sense of expectation on my shoulders. I couldn't fuck this up. Not that I really knew how to fuck it up, but that hadn't stopped me in the past.

"Cool," Coco said. But before she could continue, the humming woman turned and walked off the helipad. We all exchanged glances before following after her through a rooftop doorway into a much warmer room resembling a kind of cocktail lounge currently empty of all patrons.

She kept humming. "I regret to inform you I can't answer any of your questions, because I don't care," she said without preamble. "Le Monsieur asked me to ensure you arrived and knew where to go tomorrow. I made it a point to not ask questions after that. It makes my job easier."

"Oh," I said. "So you're going for that jaded veteran thing who doesn't trust the newcomers? Is that the angle you're going for?"

She looked over her shoulder at me, giving me that same blank eyed little smile. "If my boss had wanted me to interact with you, he would have told me to. I'm just wasting time when I could be on patrol."

Coco made a sour face, hidden behind her sunglasses. It might have been easy to miss if I hadn't become so familiar with trying to read her. "Alright. So you're a Huntress. Where's your team?"

"What did I say about questions?" she hummed. The word choice sounded condescending and almost upset, but her tone was just that pleasant little hum.

One of the birds in her cage made a noise that almost sounded like a snicker.

For the briefest of moments, she looked annoyed, her attention going to the animal. It got quiet real quick.

"You have four rooms already picked out for you," she hummed to a different rhythm this time. She gestured her cage towards the cocktail bar, upon which set four envelopes doubtlessly containing room keys. "Tomorrow during the Midwinter Gala at seven o'clock, you are expected to meet with Monsieur LaChance before proceeding to your mission. A rental vehicle has been requisitioned and is outside."

"Only one?" Coco asked, eyes to her shades. "There's eight of us."

"And only seven who look like they can actually fit inside a motor carriage," she hummed dryly, looking at Yatsuhashi. "The key is in one of the rooms; I don't care which one. But I'm presuming at least one of you can drive a vehicle. Otherwise, make use of that weird public infrastructure pet project the boss has been working on. If you have any questions or can't make the appointment, feel free to disappoint everyone counting on you. I have done my part and need to ensure nothing has gotten through the tunnels."

With an almost sarcastic wave, she vanished into the elevator and that was it.

Everyone just stood around staring. Slowly, we all just looked around at each other, as if trying to confirm we had indeed just experienced the same thing. Unfortunately we had.

"Wow," Velvet said, breaking the silence. "She was rude."

Coco was looking at Fox. She gave him a little go on gesture, and the boy sighed.

"Just so we're all on the same page," Fox said, "I'm pretty sure her Semblance has something to do with her birds. I don't really know how it relates to anything. I just thought it was neat."

"You really do rely on that telepathy thing, don't you?" Shamrock asked. "Since we're working with you, maybe try talking up a bit more? Fill us in so we're on the same page together. It'd be stupid if you had all the info and we were just lost."

Fox shrugged. "It's my one and only gimmick. Don't take that away from me. I'm just some generic blind kid otherwise."

Yatsuhashi seemed to make it a point to just stand there in the background, menacingly. It looked like he wanted to say something, but just gave up halfway through.

Coco gave him a knowing look. "It's true. We already have the one strong, silent type. Anymore without a gimmick and we'd be running out of archetypes."

I glanced at Weiss. She met my eyes and shrugged. Nothing to add. I had that distinct feeling I had had back during the family reunion on the island. Too many people. Not enough of us getting anything in edgewise. In a crowd like this, it was hard to talk. As much as I liked Coco, I kind of wanted to get away from them all. Actually get a chance to say something interesting instead of just progressing the plot of whatever mission we were on.

Blake was already up by the cocktail counter, opening the envelopes. "Room keys. Four rooms as advertised. They're all next to each other on the floor below, judging by the numbers of the card sleeves."

"Team leaders in one room, sidekicks in the other?" Coco suggested.

"I'm not a sidekick," Fox said, examining the elevator panel and all of the floor button options.

"I think the politically correct term is support combatant," Velvet suggested. "But I'm pretty sure that dividing up who gets what room based on how we fight is stupid. All in favor?"

Blake put her hand on my shoulder pad. "Don't make this weird. Partners together. If the rooms are connected, we keep teams like that."

Something about that made me vaguely bristle. It wasn't that was a bad idea. It was what I was going to suggest. It was just that that was the kind of thing a team leader should say, and Blake had beaten me to it. I closed my eyes to let out a breath. My old sergeant had once told me that you should always listen to people beneath you. No, not beneath you, those you were leading. Even if you think you know better than them, give them attention and listen to them. You might learn something new, or a better perspective. Still, letting Blake make the call left me wondering if I wasn't being proactive enough as a leader.

"Coco, you have my number," I said. "If you need me, you know how to reach me. Forward all booty calls to my secretary for immediate ignoral."

Blake gave me a sharp look but said nothing.

Coco just rolled her eyes. "Will do, hotshot."

"And if anyone wants to order room service," I continued, "we're putting them all on Weiss' card; pretty sure she's the only one of us who actually has money."

"Wait, what?" Weiss demanded.

I gave her my best pair of finger guns. The 45 caliber ones. "Quickly, everyone run to your rooms before she can say no!"

— 15 —

I closed the door behind me with my boot. "Wow, your cardio sucks," I said, breathing easily through my nose.

Blake threw her stuff down on the nearest bed and collapsed face first into it. "I thought you were going for the elevator. I had to sprint to follow you down the stairs. Do you know how heavy this bag is?"

I set my rucksack beside the door. "I could have carried it for you. I thought about offering, but decided against it because I'm lazy. But I still gave myself a mental pat on the back for thinking about doing a good thing. And really, isn't that all that matters?"

Blake rolled onto her back and removed her bow. "My hero."

Over in the adjacent room, I heard Weiss and Shamrock entering. There was indeed a door connecting the rooms from within. Aside from that quick little thing, it was actually a really nice room. Two beds, a flat screen TV, walk-in closet with provided bathrobes, and a pretty swanky bathroom.

"Y'know," I said, sitting down on the bed closest to the balcony and removing my boots, "this reminds me of this luxury hotel I stayed in once in a place called Memphis. I think it was called the Peabody. There was some local plague outbreak that meant staying the night was dirt cheap. I had a fateful encounter there with a man known only as the Duck Master in his Duck Palace."

"What the hell kind of life did you live before Beacon where you were meeting people called Duck Master?" she asked.

"On the edge," I said simply. "A life of guts and danger. And corkscrew duck penises."

"What?"

"Ducks. They dicks is like corkscrews."

"Why do you know that?"

I shrugged.

"Wait, wait, don't answer that. Did the Duck Master teach you this? And if so, dear god, why?" she asked, crawling backwards towards the headrest.

"Dunno. But he led a march of ducks into an elevator and that was pretty cool to watch."

She eyed me skeptically. "Is this some kind of weird faunus thing or…?"

"No. Just some random trivia. Feels like I haven't got enough chances to talk with all these people around."

Putting her head on the pillow, which according to her face seemed to be surprisedly comfortable, she let out a breath. "Tell me about it. It felt really awkward. I kept thinking I wanted to say something, but I didn't really want to be the first person to talk. I mean, you know Coco, but I don't know no one else there. Except that apparently that one Fox guy can see Auras. I think he's kind of creepy."

"You used to think I was creepy too," I said. "Remember that time I was trying to ask you for help, and you were convinced I was trying to ask you out, and you were like Yeah, even thinking about dating you is the worst fucking thing in the world, please don't ever put that idea near me again even on accident."

Blake looked away, her ears flat. She gave this kind of awkward little laugh. "Yeah, I—that was different. You were different. Fox is more like, I don't know, the kind of psychopath that would actually use the hotel dressers to store his clothes." She pointed at the drawers by the wall. "People like that, you just have to keep looking over your shoulder in case they try to stab you in the back. That's just unnatural levels of weird."

"I can promise you that even I wouldn't think with that level of depravity," I said.

"Thanks. That means a lot," she said dryly.

"Reminds me of a joke. Wanna hear?"

Her face was grave. "No. Please don't."

"Okay, okay," I said, holding up a hand. "So get this. A man goes to a funeral and tells the dead guy's widow, 'I'd like to say a word.'"

"Jaune!" she said with a shred of sheer mortal terror.

I held up a finger. "And so, he gets up in front of the funeral and goes, 'Plethora.'"

"Please, please stop!" she said, waving her hands at me. "I'm begging!"

"And so the widow goes, 'Thanks. That means a lot.'"

Blake sputtered out a noise and threw her shoe at me. I ducked and it hit the wall. "You're the fucking worst. Did you just knock a girl up?"

I blinked. "What?"

"My goddamn dad told me that joke once," she said, trying so hard not to laugh. And failing. "Did you get a girl pregnant to unlock his secret dad-like joke powers?"

"No, of course not. I'm just trying to say it's not hard to do or say something that means a lot."

"I hate you with every fiber of my being," she growled, glowering at me.

"And I do my best to mean things to the people I care about." I shrugged. "So, yeah, when it comes to Fox, I know he don't say or do much that means a lot, but I bet he's an okay guy. He just found me unsettling like pretty much everyone else I've ever met. No reason to hold it against him."

She sat up a little more straight. "Maybe. I—" Blake inhaled sharply, realizing what she had just done. Stabbing a finger at me, she said, "Goddamnit, Jaune, so help me god!"

"But he's a baby who always says yes!"

Blake grabbed her pillow and threw it at me. This projectile hit me square in the face. She stuck her tongue at me and said, "Next time you try saying that, I'm stabbing you."

"Why are all the girls in my life threatening to stab me all of a sudden?" I asked, hands-on hips. "That's supposed to be my job!"

One of her ears stood up. "Who's threatening you now?"

"Weiss the other night."

"Oh," she said, calming down a little bit. "And did she?"

I snorted. "Nah. She just got weirdly domestic and insisted on feeding me bagels. Made me wonder about some weird alternate world where we were partners instead and she just focused on making me fat."

Blake laughed, shaking her head. "Oh no, domestic Weiss! How am I ever going to compete with that?"

"Start going to the gym with me," I said, removing the armor off my body and setting it in a neat pile by the foot of the bed. "We can both wear our tightest, most revealing outfits and show off our gains to the world. I'm pretty sure this hotel has a gym like any good hotel does. Let's start tonight!"

She made an uncomfortable noise, running her hand through her hair. Her fingers caressed her cat ears. "It's a little more awkward than that. I don't really do weight lifting or anything. And it would be pretty uncomfortable to get that sweaty wearing this bow. What if it fell off and everyone realized I was faunus?"

I stood up and stretched my arms over my head. "I think of it as a way to make new friends."

"Excuse me?"

I nodded. "Anyone gives you shit over being faunus, I'll pull a Cardin and seduce them in order to defend your honor."

Her lips were a thin line; her expression hard to read. "Is that how you met Coco?"

"What?"

"You and her just seem pretty chummy, I guess." She shrugged, looking away towards the wall and a generic painting thereupon.

"She wanted to thank me for handling the thing with Velvet. Velvet really isn't the kind of girl to thank anybody for helping her out even indirectly. Apparently she's a bit self-conscious about being seen as weak. One thing led to another and…" I made a circular gesture with my hand.

"And…?" Blake prompted, shifting her legs so that they hung over the side of the bed. She was facing me with her whole body.

"And then she convinced me to get some tattoos," I said.

"That's all?"

I shrugged. "I think she may have adopted me as her little brother or something. But I'm not into that incest fetish shit."

The sudden shift in her expression made me laugh. She laughed too.

"Okay," Blake said. "TMI, but cool."

"Speaking of cool, I think we have an outdoor balcony. I'm gonna go stare dramatically into the nightscape for no particular reason until I'm tired enough that I can actually go to bed."

Blake pushed herself off the bed. "Ooh, count me in. I've always wanted to pose dramatically for an invisible camera."

"Ruby tells me it's part and parcel of being a good Huntsman. You just have to pretend to be cool and you will."

Another laugh. "You are the farthest thing from cool I know in the entire world, boy." She walked past me and poked me square in the chest with a wink.

"Cool enough I convinced you to jump off a roof with me because all your friends were doing it. I am all your friends, by the way. That's just how cool I am."

Blake and I stepped outside the sliding glass door onto the balcony. Covered with an angled roof, the snow didn't quite reach here except for the railings. The city of Montluçon and all the lights thereof winked at us from across the little bay. It reminded me of South Tampa in a way, just covered in snow in a way that Florida never was. Or perhaps Miami during a new ice age. The lights of the city extended from the more developed area around the hotel towards residential and factory districts, even going part way up against the mountain the city was set against. Looking out across the bay and the huge ships anchored in the water, I almost thought I could see light pollution and the very far edge of the horizon from Vale itself.

Not exactly dressed in particularly warm clothing, just her standard fairly revealing field Huntress outfit, Blake took to a light burn of her Aura to stay warm in the way that I liked to do everywhere I went. Both of us were doing it now. It wasn't cold enough to be actively buffeting us and causing any significant drain. More like just a colorful weave of a semi transparent veil around us both.

I leaned against the railing, my arms crossed. Blake gave me a look, before shrugging, and hopping the railing. For a moment I thought she was going to try to flex on me by jumping. But instead, she just delicately sat her butt on the railing beside me. It gave me the sudden, irrational urge to reach out and put my arm on her waist to make sure she wouldn't actually fall. But that would be needless touching; we had proven we could survive any fall together.

"And I regret not strangling you to death when we landed," she said with a sigh, her breath misting in the cold air.

"You came close," I said mildly.

She side-eyed me, looking like she were trying to pull a Fox and talk telepathically to me, to no avail. "Thanks. I learned how to strangle a girl from you."

I laughed. "It's a perfectly legitimate grappling tactic. Very effective. I do it every chance I get."

"Mm. I know. It's like we can't keep our hands off each other."

I thought about it for an evil moment, and then decided, fuck it. I reached out and gave her a hard poke on the butt. Blake made a yelping noise, holding onto the bars of the railing with an iron grip. She was never in any real danger of being pushed.

That didn't stop her from glaring murder at me and trying to swat my face away. I ducked back, laughing.

"Touch me again and you're dead," she hissed.

"Babe," I said, "I was born dead. You need to up your threat game."

She cocked an eyebrow. But she just sighed and shook her head before making any kind of counter remark. Hands on her lap, we just stared out together towards the city. Taking in the sights and the lights together.

"So. We just kind of stare?" Blake asked.

"I like to consider it quality alone time with my favorite partner in the world," I said with just the slightest smile.

She gnawed at the bottom of her lip.

"Normally this is the part where I bust out a cigarette and start thinking about life. Have one of those really deep, introspective moments that have been creeping up on my life these past couple months."

"You're still smoking?" she asked with a heavy frown.

"Yeah. Infrequently, but yeah. A man needs his vices. For some people it's women, for others it's alcohol. For me, it's the occasional burst of nicotine and the dopamine rush from lifting a heavy object, putting it right back down, and then standing there and thinking about what I've done. Since you're not into lifting, care to share the other with me?"

"Do I look stupid to you?"

I made a so-so gesture. "You like spending time with me. So I guess…"

"Shit," she said with a laugh. "You're right. I've gone off the deep end. Hand me a cigarette and let's see who can get cancer and die fastest."

"Babe," I said with this sudden, eerie sense of déjà vu, "I'm Jaune Arc. I am cancer incarnate."

"Great. I can't win anything with you." She leaned forward slightly, and on some paranoid reflex I put my hand on top of hers to keep her from falling. It was completely unnecessary.

All Blake did was look at me. She didn't take her hand away. Didn't really remark on anything. Just kind of looked at me as if expecting me to do something. I made an exaggerated face back at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Alright. And now I'm bored again."

"This is the part where you think about life and other whatevers. I like to take a smoke break thinking about what's going on, what's fucked up, and how I can help. There's got to be something bothering you. Something you're working on. It might help to have an outside opinion."

She left her hand where it was, underneath mine on the stone railing. "I don't know. I kind of feel like things are, I guess, they're actually kind of alright for once. It's like I don't really need to do anything particular. Just be a good Huntress. Focus on the reason why I was here in the first place. I guess sometimes that makes me feel like I'm not doing anything. Like I'm just living the generic life here."

"How so do you mean?"

Blake looked around. I imagine she could see far more at night with her cat eyes than I could. "Weiss is working on herself," Blake said. "Cooking, cleaning, all that normal domestic stuff that makes her so happy I almost want to get jealous. Shamrock is too, playing cards, training, and fitting in. Even you, with your weird obsessions, seem to be going somewhere. I don't really know what I want anymore."

She side-eyed me. "I mean, beside the obvious. Being a Huntress is one thing. But it's almost a means to an end, a way to get something else. Make up for who I was. In a way it's like I finally achieved my dream, but now I'm just wondering, What now? Everyone around me is living their own dream, that exact same dream, but they've still got their habits and their little pet projects, and here I am, just, I don't know."

I took my hand away from hers to rub at my chin. She made a nearly imperceptible noise, putting her hands in her lap together.

"I know what you mean," I said. "All I got is this right here. I just want to be someone y'all can respect and rely on."

"Don't we already?" she asked. "We all formed ranks and lied for you in front of Team CFVY. You know your Aura is weird. We all do. Been that way ever since I turned you on."

I flicked her shoulder. "First and last time you ever turned me on, girl."

Blake gave me this flat expression. "Jaune, I'm serious. I'm trying to do that serious thinking stuff you told me to do. Stop making it weird."

I held up my hands. "And I'm making it a careful balancing act between thinking about what you want and not getting too sad and mopey. No one likes a girl who gets too mopey."

She shook her head. "You always have my back in the weirdest, least productive ways."

"It's no different than when you were backing me up when Fox was pointing out that I'm weird."

"Yeah. Fox. Team CFVY." Blake shrugged. "This mission is cool. Working all together as a team is a dream. But, I don't know. What now? I keep coming back to that. I feel like I should have an answer, but I don't have anything. Just keep going on with my day and being myself? It feels like stagnation. A stronger version of my exact same self doesn't feel like I'm going anywhere as a person."

"That's not all that bad," I said. "Maybe just focus on you and the near future." I reached into my pocket and withdrew a coin. I balanced it on my thumb before flicking it off the edge of the balcony, watching it sail several stories down into a frozen pool on the ground side. Blake watched it go with me, her attention rapt.

"If that's a metaphor, you can shove it, boy," Blake said sternly. "You, me, falling together, that was a one-time thing. I'm not jumping with you again."

I snorted. "No, no, I mean, like, just want to do a good job. Wherever I go as a person, you said you'd be there. And wherever you go as a person, I promised I'd do the same. Simple as. And right now, where we're going together as partners is some wacky little mission I managed to accidentally get us involved with because I made friends with the wrong people."

"I just love getting dragged along with whatever stupid idea you have," she said wistfully.

"Don't you take that tone with me, young lady," I said, cocking an eyebrow. "I swear I'll do, I don't know, something even dumber."

"Is that the best you've got?" she asked, unimpressed.

"I'd like to see you threaten me better."

"I was on the Sanus frontier for a year. I can come up with some pretty imaginative stuff."

"Yeah, imaginative, but not creative. Here, here, watch me." I held up my hands to her, clearing my throat. With a sharp stab of my finger towards her, I gritted my teeth and growled, "I swear to fucking God, you better apologize and never do that shit ever again, or else my therapist is going to know who you are on a first name basis!"

Her eyes fluttered, and she broke out laughing. "Okay, you got me. That was legitimately unsettling. And a little depressing. And here I thought I would be all you talked about in therapy." She winked.

"Nah, I use creative nicknames for all of my friends in order to keep you anonymous."

Her ears perked up. "So you finally figured out a nickname for me that isn't Mittens? This I gotta hear; you promised me a good one months ago and I never heard it."

"Nope. I told the doctor your name was Mittens," I said, sticking my tongue out to her. I caught a snowflake on it and smiled.

Blake made a noise of sheer disgust as she rolled her eyes hard enough that her body moved with her. Suddenly she squinted at me with this impish look. "Boy, you better come up with a real good nickname real fast or else I'm going to, uh, I'm going to replace all of your artificial sweeteners with real sugar!"

I gasped, slapping my hand to my cheeks. "My God, not my gains! Anything but my gains!"

She laughed. "You're stupid. This is stupid. Remind me again why I like you?"

"Stossmark syndrome," I said simply, shrugging one arm. It was this world's shorthand version of Stockholm syndrome. "Being forced into close proximity with me for so long has led you to convincing yourself you don't hate me purely for your own sanity. It's mutual."

"Oh no, we like each other," she said, waving her hands in mock surprise. "Say sike right now."

"I love it when you use my slang."

"Oh no, it's awful. You've corrupted me. I'm used goods now." She tossed her hair back. "You'll need to pay my dowry now or else the Bushido code means Daddy's gonna have to cut your balls off."

"Dig the threat, though; you're learning."

She smiled. "That's one point for Blake, one point for Jaune. How are we going to break this threat tie?"

I leaned forward on the railing, looking out again at the city. We were a long way up. Nowhere near as high as places in Beacon or the towers in Vale, but respectable for a town like this. "Hmm. I got it! You better start to unironically like my company or so help me God I'm going to forget your birthday on purpose."

Blake merely looked amused. "You don't even know my birthday."

"January the 18th," I said simply, shifting my hands to wipe snow off the stone railing. "We've got a week and some change before your surprise party."

The girl flustered. "You—bu—how? I never told you my birthday! That's, I mean, it's almost kind of, uh." Her smile was all nervous energy, her cheeks a little flushed. She looked away and rubbed her hands together.

"Don't be like that," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She didn't try to slap it away. "Weiss showed me this thread on HuntsHub last night where a bunch of creeps were tracking the eighteenth birthdays of all the girls in our freshman class."

She curled the top of her lip. "Wow. And just like that, you made this go from sweet to deeply disturbing. Thanks for ruining the mood."

"Tell me about it."

One of her ears twitched. "So, what about you?"

"Hmm?"

"When do you turn eighteen?"

The question caught me more off-guard than I had realized. I supposed it was an obvious line of discussion, but I didn't have an answer. I highly doubted it would turn out like when I was Greg, and we had the same approximate birthday. During the Christmas family reunion, no one had remarked that I was a legal adult, so that probably meant my birthday was before the school semester? As opposed to Ruby, whose birthday was during the Autumn semester.

All I could do was stare ahead towards the harbor. "I… it's not for a while. Don't think about it."

She poked her tongue into her cheek. "Which means my birthday comes first. Which means I'm older than you. Hmm!"

"Blake, don't," I warned.

"I get to be the team adult first, Jaune!" She sat up, grinning this evil little smile. "I'm an adult and you're a kid, little man. I'm going to send you to your room and make you eat your vegetables and do the dishes. Look at me, I'm practically a freaking cradle robber!"

Yeah, no, not happening. Which is why I reached forward to flick her butt again with an overly exaggerated motion, and she lunged towards my hands.

"Oh no you don't!" she cried out, laughing.

I snatched her hand before she could stop me. I hauled her off the balcony when she tried to use her other hand. Using the artful bit of dodging and grappling we had trained together for months, I managed to take both of her hands together and pin her to the wall of the balcony.

Blake made a series of rapid, inarticulate noises in her throat. Instead of trying to fight me off like I expected, she just kind of stood there, letting me keep her and her hands pinned. Her ears twitched, her eyes fluttered. She opened her mouth and couldn't really speak. Just kind of licked her lips and stared at me with, mouth open.

"Careful trying to play that adult card too hard, girl," I said with a tsk of the tongue. "I know where you live."

She had to swallow three times before she was able to get her voice. "Uh, I—I mean, yeah, same. Y'know? Knowing where you sleep. Sometimes I wake up and see you sleeping." Blake gave me the weirdest smile I'd ever seen.

I cocked a brow. "Sometimes I wake up and stare back at you."

She got a little more spine as she said, "Yeah! And sometimes I wake up and watch you watch me."

"This is a part where I ask for an adult."

She winked. "Give me about a week to work on that."

I rolled my eyes and pushed her away. Blake slouched slightly, rubbing her hands.

"Screw you and your strangler's grip strength," she said, but without any heat.

I flexed my hands at her threateningly. "Hey, the best way to get a cool serial killer name is to be a strangler."

"Or, maybe, like some kind of weird sex murderer," she retorted.

"Those usually go hand in hand."

Blake considered, but didn't immediately reply.

I blew out a stream of air, watching my breath mist in the cold. "But alright. Enough fucking around. I think that got the last bit of fight out of me for the night. Reckon I'm ready to just collapse into bed. How about you?"

She continued to rub her wrists, slowly nodding. "I… I guess. How long have you been awake for?"

"Literally anybody's guess. Now c'mon. I'm going to strip me down to my drawers and tucker in. And unless you just want to stand there and get the world's worst striptease, let's head in. We got us a whole adventure city filled with danger and stupidity to tackle head on tomorrow. I'll need you at your best if you're going to have my back."