"Sorry." "I'm Sorry."
Unbelievable: Cinder was late.
Possibly more unbelievable: Cinder cared that she was late. When did that happen?
As she recovered from her brush with the absolute buffoon who had just bumped into her, Cinder found herself hating the Valish architecture just a little more than she normally did. It wasn't so much that she disliked the grandiose castle-like constructions; all brick and similar stacked stone with grand windows that proclaimed a grand view while retaining an almost bullseye-esque statement of defensible position. It was just that compared to her time in the other kingdoms, the entire Vale system was honestly the worst.
Vacuo liked to keep things rather simple. Mostly single or double-room homes with a windowed dividing wall made up the residence. While public spaces resembled the Valish arched ceilings, it was a practical form to allow for airflow from tube-like vents in the dome ceilings and smaller square vents along which ran along the floor for crossbreeze. What should have been akin to a massive brick oven, instead took the state of a sort of unnatural cavern with a constant summer breeze and a surprising amount of natural light redirected with the clever use of bright cloth. The entire kingdom seemed infused with the same idea if the bright flowing garments which had been popular, at the time of her last visit, were any indication.
Atlas was a stark contrast to both, boxy shapes and harsh lines. Artificial dust lighting was rampant as well; a sad side effect of the longer nights up north. The attire was similarly rigid, though far more intricate in the details than the broad strokes of Vacuo. The atlesian got one thing right in regards to their architecture: they didn't waste space. Unless you could afford the space to waste that is, then you wasted as much as you could just to show off.
Mistral, at least, had sense. Their colors weren't overly vibrant, or their space usage obscene in either direction. They did fall a bit short on the first impressions though. Theirs was a more… subtle form. Entire walls could slide open to reveal mountain vistas or living paintings of forests. Most seasons were spent with as little in the way of unneeded coverage as possible; the intense humidity made for sticky cloth and sweltering shade anyway. At least in the less northern reaches visitors might be lucky to see a local with a covered navel at any time of year.
Vale though… Cinder had so many issues with the labyrinthine too-narrow too-tall hallways, run through with odd intersections and underutilized double doors. The spires and raised walkway bridges were impressive, and served a quite clever purpose. Everything was built around the precipitation that dominated so much of the year, transforming the rain and snow runoff into a part of the design. During the drier seasons however, Vale just seemed intent to be too many things at once.
She had to admit she enjoyed the tea-and-blanket weather; and the fashion it brought. Good waterproof accessories were a distinctly Valish tradition, to the point even feathers held up in the otherwise ruinous climate. Even if Emerald made fun of Cinder "showing her inner villainess" she had to appreciate the craftsmanship if nothing else.
Still, Cinder was late. And she couldn't even blame Ruby for this one; it was Thursday after all. The woman was meticulous about Cinder's schedule when she was around; but on the two days she didn't demand just shy of perfection, she let Cinder completely unguided except for the occasional note left on her desk with vague directions like ' Restock 14' or 'Jaune. 9. Thurs.' and one time just 'Jumping Jacks, 10:30.' Cinder had discovered the second of which after arriving slightly behind schedule today, and given Ruby's complete lack of attendance on the day in question panicked a bit as the clock read 8:50 when she looked up.
So here she was, bumping into dumb redheads in the hallways that made no sense, about to be late for a meeting she didn't know she had until it was almost too late. To make matters worse, of course, there was a particular ex-subordinate of hers also in the area.
Unfortunately, it wasn't Emerald. She at least often seemed happy to see Cinder. Unlike Mercury who either hadn't grown out of his grousing stage, or maybe didn't like Cinder to begin with.
Hard to tell with some people.
Mercury had changed a bit over the years, but that wasn't so surprising. He had a beard these days, bushy but relatively short and well kept. A few extra scars had been added to his collection as well. He looked part and parcel like he had spent time surviving in the wilderness for a bit too long, except for his eyes which still were as cold and calculating as ever. His style too, had changed. No long, baggy pants hid his prosthetic like they once had; instead he maintained the "baggy" but regulated it to zip-off cargo shorts. Which fashion-wise maybe wasn't exactly an improvement , but he had never much cared for fitting in to trends.
Case in point: he was currently walking around inside barefoot while carrying a pair of boots by their laces strung across his shoulder. His legs were certainly more streamlined and lifelike than they had once been, but knowing just what had changed at a glance wasn't her strong suit. They mostly just looked more like regular feet than they once had, instead of the giant hydraulic pistons with shoe-shaped platforms. There was still plenty of Function over Fashion, but they at least looked like the doctor who had built and installed them hadn't been doing so under threat of his family's life.
Funny how that had a specific style, really it was.
As Mercury made his way towards Cinder, she half expected him to stop and say some witty comment, or act like a protective older brother for Emerald. Maybe Cinder expected him to at least glance at her and scoff before walking away to leave her feeling dejected or remorseful. As it was he just hummed a tune reminiscent of a children's movie, and went on his merry way into a recently-arrived elevator. He had made eye contact, even offered a small nod of recognition, but not much else.
Cinder didn't know how she felt about the near complete lack of reaction to her.
They had come across one another on a few occasions. Usually in the presence of others, but occasionally they would both be alone after a meeting or find themselves both waiting for coffee in the teacher's lounge. Cinder certainly wasn't avoiding the man, and for all appearances he didn't go out of his way to not talk to her, they just didn't really have anything to talk about . Which was a bit ironic given how for the past several months it seemed Cinder had talked to, and learned the life story, of nearly everyone she met.
Checking her scroll for the time, Cinder noted that she was well within the acceptable range of late, it was two minutes past nine, and only those with the largest sticks should have been bothered by that fact. Suffice to say Cinder was her own worst enemy today.
As she opened the door to Jaune's office, she took in the rather simple decor that the man surrounded himself with. With fame like his, and connections to boot, he could probably have had an entire wing dedicated to a cavernous workplace. Or even an office which gazed out towards the city and accompanying bay. Instead he had a cozy little place on the third floor of a building which overlooked the Forever Fall though a distinctly Mistrali window; a single, large pane of glass which took up the majority of the wall, ending at roughly thigh-height to make space for an efficient lounging area. The rest of the room was uncluttered and uncramped, but made smaller by the addition of large bookshelves and a beautifully crafted wooden desk. Three comfortable looking chairs were spaced around the left end of the room, in front of the desk but beside the window, while behind the desk only one rather standard-looking office chair sat with its owner looking through a collection of files and papers.
Jaune didn't react to her entrance, but also didn't jump when she knocked on the door after a moment waiting. His brow did furrow a bit at the sight of her, but it passed quickly and his face lit up with a welcoming smile.
"Cinder" he greeted her as he stood "I wasn't expecting you here for another twenty minutes or so. What brings you down early?"
"Oh? Ruby left me a note for nine" Cinder held up the small square of paper in support "Though I can't imagine it taking that long to make the trip." at least in any situation where I'm not practically sprinting because I think I'm late .
Jaune gave a small dismissive shrug as he offered her a seat in front of the desk. "Maybe she just figured something would come up on the way. Errand or something."
"Yes, well," Cinder sighed in outward annoyance but inward relief "I suppose that means I'm just here early instead. What did you need me for? The staff meeting isn't for another hour or so, and it's Thursday anyway."
"Nothing really, at least officially." his broad shoulders and strong face didn't show a hint of nervousness "I mostly just wanted to ask you to dinner soon, and it's easier to schedule small meetings like this than try to track down anyone not tied to a classroom in this place. Bring them to me, you know?"
Cinder faked a gasp "Mister Arc, fraternizing with a subordinate? For shame sir! What would the children think?" she stifled the oncoming giggle.
Did I really just giggle? Not even a dry laugh. That was straight out of a schoolgirl gossip circle.
"Well, I did mean a coworkers, Miss Fall . But, you're also not my subordinate." the man seemed unfazed by the statement, but grinned almost predatorily at the un-Cinderlike sound afterwards "You don't even work in my department after all. If Ruby were to start making moves on you… well she has much scarier things to worry about than some misconduct paperwork in that case. Three things, to be exact."
"Not that I've ever been one for sticking it to the man, but yes. Dinner sounds good. I can't say I know very many places to eat in the area-" Cinder had somehow just not eaten out in the last several months. At least nothing that wasn't takeout or delivery. She preferred to cook for her own tastes anyway.
"Oh, no. My place. Bit hard to talk over other patrons besides. Plus, I've been wanting to try my new atlesian smoker, and it seems a waste to not share."
Cinder could feel her mouth watering already. The Atlesians were known for their dust mines and engineering of course, but their smoked meats were practically a national treasure to those with the pallette for such things. Easily within the same realm of speciality as Valish wines and, as a recent addition to Cinder's Hall of Fame, Menagerian fish.
"I don't suppose you mean tonight?" Please mean tonight. Please mean tonight. "Because at this point, you're just teasing me with the promise of being stuffed with meat I can't have. And that, dear Jaune, is a rude thing to do to a woman."
He leaned back in his chair, and considered. "Hmmm. Now that you mention it. I did start a brisket this morning. And I'm pretty sure Nora's on a diet right now, so no hope of help from her or Ren…" Jaune gave a wink "I think it may be more than we can take, at least without making leftovers for a while. And that, as I'm sure you're aware, is just criminal ."
"Now. Where could you find someone with such a background in avoiding such extreme charges?" Cinder jokingly tapped her chin as she waited a beat. "Oh wait. That's me. Tonight then? Sounds like you're in a rush to get me to taste such succulent meat. Really get a taste of that juicy cut. It almost sounds romantic; just you, me, and several pounds between us." Cinder let the words roll out, though she wasn't quite sure if she was doing so teasingly, or authentically after a point.
"Oh, not just us." Oh. Well that put a small damper on Cinder's more… primal plans for tonight. "I do live with my partner, like most every non-solo Huntsmen, Miss Fall. And she'll probably want some too. We do share most everything with each other." and the deranged plans became downright degenerate .
"I'll be there." Cinder stood from her seat. "Will I have time to make a stop at home? It feels wrong sharing a meal without bringing my own offering to the table." Old habits die hard, and that was one family tradition Cinder appreciated keeping around. Plus she was not dressed for red meat today; Valish waterproof engineering only did so much against stains unfortunately.
"Of course." Jaune accompanied her to the door. "The smoke won't be done until later, seven or eight. Plenty of space on the table too."
"Seven-thirty it is."
And with that Cinder made her way out of the office, and back towards her own little slice of campus. She had to maintain a watch over the workbenches and Catalogue usage today, since Ruby was unavailable to do so. At least she usually had some nice quiet time, even when students came to work.
A few upperclassmen had come by to try getting help over the past several weeks, and she had even managed to assist a few of them. Mostly structural issues for those who had to build each weapon from scratch. A few were more about technique, those were much easier to discover but harder to actually help fix. Each student who left her desk with a smile did help Cinder see just why someone might want to teach as a career. Maybe not in a full lecture hall, but the idea of tutoring one-on-one wasn't terrible to her at least.
As Cinder rounded the last corner, she unfortunately wasn't paying enough attention to notice a man carting a large desk past her. Or rather she noticed he was moving something large and heavy, and merely stepped out of the way without really looking at what it was.
Upon entering the classroom, she noticed something wasn't quite right. It wasn't obvious until she went over to her desk and attempted to sit that the sense of incorrectness really hit her. She had to climb into her chair, instead of plopping down onto it like normal. Then she had to adjust the chair to get the desk at the right height to lean over it.
That was about the point she noticed that her desk was no longer a standard teacher's desk from the stockroom, but a significantly larger piece. So large, in fact, that she could probably have sold the space it took up as a sleeping-pod apartment in Atlas proper. Appearance wise, it was a startlingly good recreation of her normal desk, just scaled up. It even had a sticky lower drawer rail. And all of her files, papers, and other assorted items right where they should be.
As she pondered just how someone had recreated her desk three times it's normal size, she tapped her pen- That doesn't sound quite right . In fact, it sounded completely unlike plastic striking the wood of a desk should sound. So much so that Cinder brought it up to her face and tried to bend the offending writing tool. It broke with minimal effort and revealed itself to be chocolate throughout. Delicious, slightly bitter dark chocolate to be exact.
Cinder wished she could claim this was strange; finding miscellaneous items replaced with foodstuffs really should have been outside the realm of normalcy after all. Fortune, much like Mercury's taste in pranks, was rarely to Cinder's liking. This had all the tell-tale signs of that inventive, but ultimately fairly uncreative, buffoon's handiwork. With Ruby out of contact, it also removed her from the equation almost completely.
However, for the sake of not being sent back to the small town of Misir, a name she had spent decades of her life specifically not remembering, Cinder had to remain at the least easily reachable in case a student needed access to the workbenches and, as of recently, the dust mixer (heavily monitored of course).
So, here she sat at her too-large desk in a too-empty room, wanting to lightly strangle a certain too-smug face. Cinder figured she may as well figure out what she could bring for dinner later, at least she planned to do that but somehow ended up in a back and forth with Emerald over their scrolls. She was apparently interested in the dull day-to-day which had pervaded the small farming village of Cinder's hell. Asking what Cinder remembered of her routine, and foods she had attempted (hopefully in order to avoid them during future meals together.)
Cinder found her hours passing quickly as she traded stories with the green-haired woman, built her plans for revenge, lusted over promised brisket, and assisted a student who had somehow managed to get the hem of their skirt trapped in a manual-tighten vice.
She spent the entire time not wondering how she had come care about these events. Cinder instead found herself looking forward to the coming hours and days in a way she had never quite managed since her childhood.
Life was funny like that.