Important warning: this chapter contains very minor RWBY: After the Fall spoilers (to the point you probably won't realize it is one). if you want to completely avoid them, wait on this chapter until you've read it. otherwise, read on.
"Thank you Miss Emerald. If you would please wait in the waiting area, an elevator will be available shortly."
With that, the holographic receptionist blinked out of existence, leaving Emerald alone in the rebuilt Beacon Tower ground floor. As always, she took a moment to appreciate the comfortable atmosphere of the tower's lobby.. If Emerald's memory served, rebuilding the tower had also involved an entirely new interior design strategy.
Once—far back in Emerald's sometimes all-too detailed memory—the space had been decorated with cold matte colors and once-contemporary—now 'Modern Luminal'—glowing strips along the floor and walls, the cavernous space made deeper by the dark colors of unpainted metal. The new tower was wider and the interiors had all been thankfully updated to something much more inviting. Bright holographic murals of locale from across Remnant cycled on four of the eight walls: this one a Vacuan canyon, that one a rendering of the Forever Fall, another a candid picture of a now-famous snowy mainstreet belonging to the small Atlesian village of Armitage. The walls behind were painted a deep Vale green, but nearly every inch not covered by the holograms was dominated by numerous, wide, clear elevator shafts to accommodate the massive daily traffic from employees and guests. The glass tunnels served as windows to the sleek solid-orange cars, and to the outside beyond. Overall, the color scheme was oddly contrasting, much like the four kingdoms the CCT connected, but worked well together all the same.
Like the kingdoms, and the color choices, very rarely did art historians and pulviologists cross paths, and even more rarely did something come up that required both sides to work together. This week, however, Emerald's unique set of skills were coming into the spotlight; she'd received two emails regarding the same project from two very separate sources. Professor Persimmon, board head for the Anima Art Association—previously Dean of Historical Studies at Vacuo/Vale Academic Collegiate University, Upper Mandate—had been the first to reach out. Followed closely by Doctor Legna Gepetto, one of Emerald's favorite pulviologists of the professors she had interned for.
Both had, probably without realizing the other had done the same, asked Emerald for input on a recently uncovered tapestry from eastern Solitas of all places. It wasn't that Emerald was an expert on Solitan art or even knew more about ancient references to Dust than Doctor Gepetto, but she held a reputation for connecting previously unconnected traditions or people to a historical record like she had been there when it was happening.
In reality, she just happened to know someone who remembered being present at the creation of the Aka Nishin scrolls.
The tapestry in question had apparently referenced something almost, but not quite, entirely unlike Dust. Or a form of Dust the modern era had no record of. No matter the outcome of her findings, Emerald was promised credit on the final paper and a pleasant stipend for her work. Not that she was hurting for money, but a larger savings never hurt. Not to mention that with midterms in full swing, she didn't have much else to do but a small list of mundane chores.
Luckily, Emerald didn't have much longer to wait. Another holographic receptionist beckoned her over to a waiting elevator. "The Headmaster will see you now. Have a pleasant visit Miss Emerald."
The elevator ride was quick given Emerald was only traveling to the sixteenth floor instead of all the way to the top where the Headmistress' office was located. Emerald may have had a preference for confident, domineering women, but she didn't hate herself that much.
The elevator car slid to a smooth, almost imperceptible stop and gave a not-unpleasant but still informative ding as the doors slid open. On the other side was the smiling face of a man who had seen far too much but had come out at least trying to be optimistic. He was dressed well but comfortably, like someone with a management role in an outdoor profession; all he was missing was a clipboard and a hard hat, and he could walk into almost anywhere without question. Resting at his waist was a silver hilt so well cared for that it was unlikely anyone would ever guess it predated the Kingdoms by several centuries.
"Miss Sus—sorry—Emerald. Good to see you again," Professor Oscar Pine greeted with as much joviality as he could muster. "To what do I—dammit—how've you been?"
Moving in to give the younger man a friendly hug, Emerald couldn't help a small frown of concern crossing her features. "I feel like I should be asking you that. You're not sounding… you today."
That semi-innocent comment caused a dam to burst, and Oscar's hug turned from friendly-hello to hanging-on-for-dear-life. "We've had a tough week," he said. His breaths shuddering and shallow.
"Hey. It's okay." Emerald patted Oscar's back as they continued to stand just outside the now-closed elevator doors. "Do you need to sit down? Should I come back later? I'm not in any rush with this."
"No. Yeah. I should…" he mumbled, before forcing himself to release Emerald and take a step back. Breathing deeply, Oscar composed himself to a state of 'not about to break down crying' which was a massive relief to Emerald. She had seen the man in front of her completely break down at least once before, but this time his usual emotional supports were nowhere nearby to help. "Okay. Right. Let's go to my office. At least to make sure we're not blocking the elevator."
Emerald bobbed her head just slightly sarcastically. "Right. Can't forget about fire codes just because of a little panic attack."
With Oscar leading the way, the two of them made their way around the perimeter of the octagonal building. A large window stretched to their right, granting a beautiful view of Beacon's roads and foot bridges as they spiderwebbed away from the tower in neatly-planned organization. Emerald's eyes didn't linger too long on the school grounds, however; they were drawn to her left, to a mostly white wall occasionally contrasted by two-tone colored diagonal stripes and doors the same orange as the elevator cars. Between every door, there was at least one work of art displayed. Each and every one sent shivers up Emerald's spine, her memory doing nothing to stop her from slipping back into her time spent within the walls of Castle Evernight. Everything from sculptures and canvas paintings to videos and playable games were displayed with tasteful lighting and their artist's information alongside a not cheap but at least reasonable price. The range of mediums was wide, but the subject was always the same: Grimm.
"I never get used to these. I don't want to even imagine what this hallway looks like at night."
Oscar slowed to a stop in front of a carved driftwood sculpture of a Grimm Emerald had seen before, crawling from their spawning pools, but never learned the name of. With razor-sharp leg plates and three long, tree-trunk thick necks topped with horned heads, she didn't exactly feel the need to ask at the time. "We leave the lights on, mostly," Oscar said with a single humorless chuckle. "People often find my showcase—heh—grim. And I'll admit, it can be unnerving at times to turn around and find a King Taijitu or Manticore staring at you. But I think it's important to remind myself of the dangers all our students will one day have to meet."
Emerald had heard the explanation before, but she didn't mind. The repetition seemed to ground Oscar a bit, helping him recover some of the confidence that'd fled him earlier. She wondered if her presence was helping too. It was strange to imagine herself as a source of stability for someone else.
Emerald utterly failed to suppress a shiver as her attention drifted back to the sculpture. "Doesn't mean I don't get flashbacks to watching them claw their way out of the pits every time I see those eyes, fake or otherwise. There's a reason I didn't take my Huntress exams."
"I— We— …"
"Ozpin?" Emerald offered.
"Ozpin really hated the look of them too. Maybe this is just me trying to make sure he's really gone, as childish as that sounds."
"Using the monsters under your bed to guard against the kind old man upstairs?" the mental image elicited a laugh from Emerald. "If that's not irony…."
The thought was ridiculous enough to cause Oscar to first crack a real smile, and then join Emerald in her outburst; A reaction few could claim to have ever elicited from the normally reserved professor.
After calming down, the two of them continued their walk before Oscar slowed in front of another display. "I think this one might fit in your apartment rather nicely, hm?"
"What?" Emerald questioned, unsure she had heard correctly. Taking a look at the piece, another thought came to mind as she stared into the empty red eyes. "Oh, no. I don't want that thing staring at me every time I make a pot of coffee. Besides, I think I know a much better home for it…"
"Right, now that we've got all that settled — you didn't come by just to say hello and help us—me through a rough day and to go shopping for display art, I'm sure." Oscar said from behind his large desk.
Getting out her scroll, Emerald pulled up a series of files on the tapestry she'd been analyzing. Before placing her scroll on the desk's contact surface, she waited for Oscar to draw a bounding circle to place it inside; Emerald could appreciate that digital security was no joke in Beacon Tower these days.
As the quarantine did its job, opening prompts for Oscar to allow her scroll access to the needed systems, Emerald glanced around the office.
It was, for lack of a better word, respectable. It held a window overlooking Vale across the bay, and had all the trappings one might expect from upper management, while lacking all the ornamentation and extravagance. There were several sturdy bookcases containing collections of personal photos and decorations alongside their namesake, a few comfortable chairs for guests, a plush carpet emblazoned with the sigil of Vale, and just a general lack of fashion over function. She'd never asked, but Emerald was fairly certain Oscar had been responsible for all of the woodwork himself. The only pieces that seemed entirely not Oscar original were the interactive desk and a silver clock with three faces: one which read local time and the other two matching one another four hours ahead.
The room darkened as the projectors began their work, displaying panels and renderings of the files Emerald had pulled up: an archeological map, a 3D scan of the tapestry in question, and several excerpts and academic papers on the region and time period. Oscar was Emerald's main source for this research — not her first and certainly not her only.
Emerald began her outline of the known information, utilizing a map and several pictures of the site for visual aid. "This tapestry was recently uncovered in eastern Solitas, during a dig at a pre-Mantle settlement. Beyond that, I'm not entirely sure who or what was present, but this—" she zoomed in on a section of the tapestry itself which showed a group of people, each holding what appeared to be blank faces over their heads. "—is where the questions start. Mostly things for other disciplines, anthropologists and the like."
Oscar considered the image in front of him. "Hmm… I don't think I was present for this, specifically. But the gathering with the faces I do remember from several similar events."
"The Umbrologists think that's Grimm somehow, and they might be right, but I'm more focused on—" Emerald zoomed in again on the crowd. Specifically a single member who wasn't raising a blank face, and was the only one adorned with what could have been skin markings or jewelry instead. "—this."
The conversation that followed was dry but informative. Research was rarely exciting and full of breakthroughs, mostly it was filled with reading and seemingly innocuous questions towards people who only had a slightly better chance of having even an idea as to the answer. Nearly all lines of questioning ended inconclusively, and those that didn't usually just sprouted more research topics and more questions.
There was a reason Doctor Sustrai preferred guarding a room from a tireless, creative, ultimately harmless intruder.
As the sun rotated longer along its great celestial gears, the questions eventually began directing away from the places Oscar's additional memories could help. Mostly to libraries and experts in other, more specific, fields. Two of the three faces on Oscar's silver clock told Emerald they had been talking for nearly four hours, which was about what she expected the conversation to take given her past experiences.
As Emerald began to wrap up, collapsing the projections and collecting her scroll from Oscar's desk, she shot another glance at the three matching clock faces.
Wait…
"Oscar, is your clock broken?" she asked.
Looking up to see for himself, Oscar's brow furrowed in confusion at the synchronized ticking. "It was working this morning, and I just cleaned it last month. What makes you ask?"
"One face is local time, but others haven't moved since I got here." Emerald replied.
"Not quite, each one is linked to a scroll, mine—" Oscar stood up to take a closer look, before pulling his head back in surprise. "—and the other two should be in Mistral right now. How in the—"
Oscar was interrupted by his biometrically locked office door swinging open, and a platinum-headed ten-year-old nearly hanging off the glowing blue doorknob as his face split with a smile. "Daddy!"
"Kalt!?" Oscar exclaimed, dumbstruck. "You're supposed to be with—"
"Hmm. It's simply cute you think he could get away from me so easily," a well-cultured voice sounded from the doorway beyond. "Newly-found semblance, or not."
Trying to wrap her head the rapidly unfolding situation in front of her, Emerald peered out into the windowed hallway and found there wasn't a hallway at all anymore, but an exquisitely decorated—and in Emerald's opinion, incredibly gaudy—study. Standing just in front of a desk which was almost an exact clone of Oscar's own, hands elegantly held behind his back, stood a man in full Schnee colors—eyes and all.
"Ah, Emerald, apologies for intruding on your appointment, but it seems it's just gotten much easier to schedule our visits to Vale," Whitley Schnee said with a smile. "Join us for lunch?"
A/N:
Ohey. it's that thing I first teased back in like, chapter 6. (Poor Oscar though. being two minds and now only one must be hard to come back from)
Kalt's semblance, much like Jei's, is the classic Schnee with a twist: he "summons" places that he's familiar with/have defined him, but he needs something doorway-like to do it (hence the doorknob)
YellHead and Mellowyelloww made this chapter what it is, couldn't do it without them
Feedback is always appreciated, even if it's negative
your ears are especially pretty today, keep doing what you're doing